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The Girls' Revenge

Page 7

by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor


  “Well, just Beth's,” said Wally uncomfortably.

  “Do you boys mean to tell me that you were sitting up in the Bensons' garage after dark, looking in Beth Malloy's bedroom through a pair of binoculars like some low-down, sneaky Peeping Tom?” Mother cried.

  Wally, Josh, and Jake stood like statues.

  “We were just holding a club meeting!” Wally squeaked finally.

  “A club meeting at nine o'clock in the evening? In twenty-degree weather? You and a pair of binoculars?” said their father. “I'm ashamed of you boys.”

  Somehow that was the very worst thing Dad could say, Wally decided. That was worse than being whopped on the seat of the pants.

  “But—but they know we meet up there!” said Josh. “They know we could have been watching. If they didn't want us to see something, they could have pulled down their shades.”

  “That is disgusting!” said Mother. “I don't want you boys over in that garage again. Do you understand?”

  “Don't you think the Buckman police have better things to do than respond to false reports?” asked Dad. “What if there had been a real emergency and they were out wasting their time? This'll be all over the sheriff's office next time I go in.”

  “Dad, we thought it was real! Honest!” Wally cried.

  “Well, either you guys are more gullible than I thought or those girls are terrific actresses,” said Dad.

  It was really embarrassing. The boys didn't want to admit to either one.

  “How did the police know it was us?” asked Wally finally in a small voice.

  “The officers called headquarters on their car phone and asked them to trace the call. In case you didn't know, boys, they can trace your call right down to the phone number and the time of day.”

  “Wow!” said Peter.

  Thirteen

  Hot, Hot Chocolate

  “What we have to do,” Eddie told her sisters, “is pretend that absolutely nothing happened. The guys are going to be dying to know if we got in trouble, and if they even mention it to us, we don't know what they're talking about. Right?”

  “Right,” said Caroline.

  “And then,” said Eddie, her eyes beginning to glow, “we wait until they meet in the garage again, and then we trap them.”

  Caroline had no idea how they were supposed to do that, but she didn't care. They hadn't got in trouble, because their parents believed that the Hatford boys were just playing a trick. It was great to have Beth and Eddie back again, thinking of ways to torment the guys, even though Eddie really wanted to make the softball team and Beth was sweet on Josh. The thing about the Hatford boys, they were a ready audience. Boys fell for so many things you wouldn't think they'd believe. It was really incredible. None of her friends back home had been quite so stupid.

  Well, stupid wasn't exactly the right word, because the Hatfords came up with some pretty good tricks themselves. Fun was more like it. And then she put into words something none of them had really said before: “At least the boys are fun.”

  “And cute,” added Beth. “Josh is, anyway. And Peter.”

  Eddie wrinkled her nose. “Spare me,” she said. “I can live without cute. Tell me that Jake or Josh or Wally has anything on his mind besides acting silly, and maybe I'll get interested.”

  Caroline had never heard her sisters talk like this before.

  “Why can't people stay the same, Mother?” she asked later, as they were putting the Christmas bells and holly on the mantel and getting out the holiday candles.

  “And whom would we be talking about, I wonder?” said Mother. “Your sisters?”

  “Yes. Sometimes they act like they always were, and sometimes they just… just act different. Growing weird, is what they are.”

  “Or maybe just growing up?” Mother suggested.

  “Whatever,” said Caroline.

  When the girls left for school the next morning, West Virginia was having its first big snow of the season. The river had frozen over, and snow was beginning to collect on top of the ice. When the Malloy sisters crossed the swinging bridge, they slid their feet along, rather than risk slipping and falling on the frozen boards. All around them the leafless branches and twigs had taken on a soft furry appearance, and the snow on the roads muted the sound of traffic.

  It would have been a perfect morning, Caroline was thinking, if the Hatford boys had not been waiting for them on the other side of the bridge.

  “Don't even think it,” Eddie said, as she eyed Jake tossing a snowball from one hand to the other.

  “Hey, Whomper, Weirdo, and Crazie!” said Jake. “What was all the excitement over at your place last night? We saw a police car pull up. Somebody get murdered or something?”

  “They had the wrong address,” Beth retorted. “They were looking for your place. We sent them back across the river. What was happening at your house, anyway?”

  Caroline had to admire her sisters. Nobody could think of an answer faster than Beth or Eddie. They'd make good actresses if they wanted to, because they'd be able to cover up when something went wrong. She remembered reading once about a great actress who was onstage during a play with a young, beginning actress, and the phone rang when it wasn't supposed to. As the famous actress lifted the phone and said hello, the young actress was eager to see how she would handle the situation. The great actress handed the phone to her and said, “It's for you.”

  Caroline thought about that story a lot. If she had been the young actress, what would she have said? What would she have done? All she could think of to say was, “Wrong number.”

  “Nothing happened,” said Wally.

  “It did so!” said Peter. “Wally and Jake and Josh saw Caroline hit Beth over the head with the hammer!”

  “Shut up, Peter!” muttered Wally.

  Eddie and Beth burst into laughter as they turned and started up the street toward school. “Boy, you guys sure have big imaginations!” she said.

  Caroline was trotting happily between her sisters when suddenly, Pow! Pow! Pow!

  One snowball hit Beth on the shoulder, another hit Caroline on the leg, and a third landed squarely on the back of Eddie's neck.

  Instantly Eddie's book bag was on the ground and her hands were a blur as she packed a snowball. Beth was next, then Caroline, and soon the air was thick with flying snowballs. Peter simply covered his head with his arms and ran on to school while the battle raged.

  Eddie didn't just throw, Eddie attacked. She went charging up to Jake and stuffed a snowball right in his mouth. Pow! Biff ! Bam! Poof !

  No telling where the battle would have ended if a teacher hadn't been driving by and honked.

  As they picked up their book bags again and headed for school, filling the air with catcalls and hoots, Eddie whispered to Caroline and Beth, “The very next time they come over, we'll be ready.”

  But the next time the boys came over, they were accompanied by their parents, because Mrs. Malloy invited the Hatfords one Sunday afternoon for cookies and hot chocolate—coffee for the adults.

  “Moth-er!” Eddie had wailed when she found out the Hatfords were coming.

  “It's the least we can do after that lovely Thanksgiving dinner they made for us,” Mrs. Malloy had said. “Ellen and I checked our calendars, and this was absolutely the only free time we both had. Tom Hatford works such long hours at Christmas.”

  “But… but what will we talk about? We can't just sit here staring at each other and stuffing cookies in our mouths!” Beth had protested, and Caroline noticed that her cheeks were strangely pink.

  “Why, Beth, we'll talk about whatever comes to mind. With eleven people in a room, it shouldn't be hard to think of something to say. This is our first Christmas in Buckman, and we certainly want to be friendly.”

  “Our first Christmas?” Caroline had asked. “Does this mean there will be a second and a third?”

  “We haven't made any decision one way or another, except that we plan to enjoy having the Hatfords over this
afternoon,” said Coach Malloy.

  And so it was that at two minutes to three the doorbell rang, and there were the twins, Jake and Josh, and Wally and Peter, along with their parents. Only the parents and Peter were smiling.

  Caroline fully expected Jake and Josh to stuff snowballs down her sisters' necks as they came inside, but as Father welcomed them and took their jackets, she saw that they were empty-handed.

  “Welcome!” said the coach, shaking Tom Hatford's hand, then Mrs. Hatford's. “So glad we could find an afternoon to get together.”

  “Do we get to eat the cookies I helped make?” asked Peter.

  “Indeed you do, and more besides,” said Mrs. Malloy. “Please come into the living room and sit down, everybody. Boys, do you like marshmallow or whipped cream in your hot chocolate?” She sent Caroline around the room to take orders—regular coffee, decaf, cream, sugar, whipped cream, marshmallow…

  The parents immediately began talking about the Christmas rush at the post office, interested in Tom Hatford's account of packages that were poorly wrapped and came apart on the conveyor belt. But the Hatford boys seemed interested in making their hot chocolate orders as complicated as possible.

  “I'll take whipped cream and marshmallow both, plus a little cinnamon,” said Josh, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

  “Make that two,” said Jake, “but hold the cinnamon and give me chocolate sprinkles instead.”

  “I want the sprinkles and the cinnamon,” said Wally.

  “I don't want any whipped cream, just marshmallow,” said Peter.

  Caroline's head swam. Sprinkles? No sprinkles? Cinnamon? Marshmallow? Who gets what?

  “I'll help,” Eddie said quickly, going out into the kitchen with her.

  “Me too,” said Beth.

  As soon as the girls were in the kitchen, Beth and Eddie started to giggle.

  “What?” asked Caroline.

  “Do you know what looks like cinnamon?” said Eddie. “Chili powder.”

  Caroline gave a little squeak of delight.

  “And do you know what looks like chocolate sprinkles?” asked Beth.

  “What?” Caroline asked again.

  “I don't know,” said Beth. “What does?”

  The sisters looked through Mother's cupboards. The closest thing they could find to chocolate sprinkles was cracked pepper.

  “Now here's the thing—we've got to mix them so the guys won't get suspicious. Caroline, you mix a little cinnamon and chili powder together, Beth, you do the chocolate sprinkles and cracked pepper, and I'll get the coffee for Mr. and Mrs. Hatford.”

  “Ha! Wally wanted both the chocolate and cinnamon. He's going to get a double dose!” laughed Caroline. Was this a good party or what?

  At last the tray was ready. Beth carried it in, followed by Eddie with the coffee. Mother and Dad were sitting with the Hatfords around the coffee table, which had been covered with a holiday tablecloth that reached to the floor, embroidered with poinsettias and holly.

  “One plain with marshmallow,” Caroline said politely, handing the first cup to Peter.

  She picked up the next one. “One whipped cream and marshmallow with cinnamon,” she said, and handed it to Josh. “One whipped cream and marshmallow with chocolate sprinkles.” She handed that one to Jake.

  Then she turned to Wally: “And one cup with everything.”

  Eddie carefully poured the coffee and the decaf into the appropriate cups and passed them to the grown-ups, setting the sugar and the creamer on the coffee table beside the huge platter of Christmas cookies of every design—round and square, frosted and plain, decorated and drizzled—roll-ups, sandwich style, bars, drop cookies, and cutouts.

  Then she and Beth and Caroline sat down demurely on the big sofa across from the four boys, while the parents seemed to prefer the armchairs.

  “Ummm! This is good! It's the best hot chocolate I ever tasted,” said Peter, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and reaching for the largest Santa cookie on the platter.

  Mrs. Malloy smiled. “I was hoping you'd take that one, Peter. I made it especially for you.”

  “You did?” Peter said.

  But his words were drowned out by sudden coughing from Wally, whose face was quickly turning red. Wally's eyes watered.

  “Gracious!” said his mother.

  Jake was next; he sneezed.

  “I certainly hope it's not the cocoa,” said Mrs. Malloy, looking puzzled.

  “Oh, no,” said Jake, patting his chest. “It's delicious. Just went down the wrong way, I guess.”

  Josh took a drink of his, and blinked as his eyes too began to smart. “Good cocoa,” he said.

  Caroline, Beth, and Eddie stared. They were actually going to drink it! The boys were really going to sit there and pretend they didn't notice a thing. Caroline couldn't help admiring Wally. She doubted she could have pretended it was okay, and she was supposed to be an actress!

  The grown-ups went on talking about all sorts of boring things.

  “So there you have it!” Mrs. Hatford was saying. “The county and the college both want the three acres, and I suppose the voters will have to decide …”

  Caroline watched as Wally took another small sip of hot chocolate and fought off another coughing fit.

  Suddenly her eyes went from Wally to the big ceramic platter of cookies, for as Jake reached for another cookie, the platter suddenly jiggled up and down. Jake pulled back his hand and stared. Then he reached out once more, and again the platter began bouncing.

  “Josh…,” he said, and nudged his brother.

  Caroline was already nudging Beth and Eddie.

  “The cookies!” she whispered.

  Peter was over by the window, running his new Matchbox double-decker along the sill, leaving his three brothers and the three Malloy sisters staring silently at the cookie platter.

  “What?” murmured Beth when Caroline poked her.

  “The… the cookies! They moved!” Caroline whispered back.

  They all focused on the platter. Nothing happened.

  “You're out of your mind,” said Eddie.

  “No, they did!” Caroline insisted.

  “I saw them too,” said Jake. “You take one, Josh.”

  Josh put out his hand and just as he did so, the platter began dancing again.

  Josh quickly withdrew his hand.

  “It's some kind of trick the girls are pulling on us,” he said.

  “No, honestly!” said Beth, who had seen it now. “I don't know what's causing that.”

  “Well, take one anyway!” said Wally, and he reached for a pinwheel cookie in the middle of the assortment. This time the platter leaped so violently that two of the cookies on one end slid off.

  Wally dropped the pinwheel and gaped.

  “Boys?” said Mrs. Hatford.

  Wally turned sheepishly. “It's… the platter. It keeps moving.”

  “It what?” asked his father.

  “See?” said Wally. He stretched out his hand for another cookie. Nothing happened.

  Josh reached for a cookie. Then Jake. Nothing happened.

  Peter came over to look, and as soon as he put out his hand, the platter again leaped and danced.

  “Yipes!” cried Peter, and backed away.

  “Now, George, what are you up to?” Mrs. Malloy laughed, and at that, Coach Malloy revealed a narrow green rubber tube stretching from the palm of his hand down the side of his chair, under the throw rug, up under the cloth on the coffee table, to a spot right beneath the cookie platter. Whenever he pressed on the rubber bulb in the palm of his hand, it sent air through the tube into a little pouch at the other end, which made the platter jump.

  “Heck, with all the pranks our kids have been playing lately, I decided they shouldn't have all the fun!” Mr. Malloy said, and the other grown-ups laughed with him.

  “Absolutely not,” said Mr. Hatford. “Why, I remember that trick when I was young. We used to get the turkey rising and fall
ing on Thanksgiving.”

  Everyone laughed then, and of course each of the Hatford boys had to try it. When the party ended at four-thirty and the Hatfords prepared to leave, Wally was in the hallway in his jacket, ready to go, when he looked up to see that he was standing under a sprig of mistletoe. He shot out of the house like a cannonball, and Caroline, Eddie, and Beth were still laughing when they cleared the coffee table later and took the cups to the kitchen.

  Fourteen

  Letter to Georgia

  Dear Bill and Danny, Steve, Tony, and Doug:

  Thought you'd like to know that the police were over at your house the other night. Caroline Malloy, the Crazie, went after her sister with a hammer. Missed, but I can imagine what the hammer did to the floor. They are really weirdos.

  I'm going to pass fourth grade by the skin of my teeth. Crazy Caroline chose me for her partner for Miss Applebaum's December project. We had to interview each other. Then we had to pretend we were each other for a day, and write a report to read aloud in front of the class. I'll bet your Georgia-peach teacher doesn't come up with anything that dumb, Danny.

  What I'd like about now is to change places with one of you guys and be you for a day. I'd gladly go down there for a week if one of you wants to come here and see what life with the Malloys is really like.

  See what you got us into by moving down to Georgia?

  Wally (and Jake and Josh and Peter)

  Fifteen

  Trapped

  The Malloy sisters were surprised to see the Hatfords heading for the garage again on Monday, going across the swinging bridge just ahead of them. They had supposed that after the fiasco with the police, Mr. and Mrs. Hatford might have forbidden them to go up in the loft again, and knew they were right when Peter, tagging along behind his brothers, looked back over his shoulder and called, “We're not supposed to go up in the loft again, but we came back to get our binoculars.”

  “Peter! Shut up!” they heard Jake mutter.

  There was a certain swagger to their walk that irritated Eddie, it seemed. A certain grin on their faces that made Caroline herself frown. The girls could only watch as the boys loped across the clearing as though they owned the place and marched right into the garage. It didn't take four boys to retrieve a pair of binoculars.

 

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