“They’d never seen anything like it before,” Iz told her. “They wanted to keep Olivia there for a few days to run some tests—”
“But Iz didn’t like the way the staff were eyeing her, uh, output,” my father added. “So we brought her home.”
“Well, what did you expect me to think after that lab assistant slipped a diamond into his pocket?” Iz replied indignantly. “I don’t think he would have given it back if I hadn’t said anything.”
“I’m sure it was just an oversight,” replied my father.
My stepmother snorted. “Timothy Starr, you can be so naive sometimes!”
I couldn’t help wondering what the specialists at the research hospital would make of me. Somehow I couldn’t picture anybody wanting to pocket my toads.
“Look on the bright side,” said Dr. Douglass. “At least you know you’ll be able to pay for Olivia’s treatment.”
My father laughed uneasily.
I pondered Iz’s point as I pulled on my jeans and T-shirt. It hadn’t occurred to me that other people might try and take advantage of Olivia’s weird talent, but what Iz was saying made a lot of sense.
“I just thought maybe a few people were a little more interested in the gems than they were in Olivia,” my stepmother continued, sounding defensive.
“It’s only natural that you want to protect her until this all gets sorted out,” Dr. Douglass said soothingly. “If Olivia were my child, I’d have brought her home too. As for Cat, I recommend that you continue to treat her as you always have, and give her lots of reassurance. She’s a normal, healthy young lady who simply has a lot going on in her life at the moment.”
You have no idea, I thought. Selective mute! I could show Dr. Douglass in two seconds flat just how mute I was, but I didn’t think toads would be very welcome in her office.
“If the condition persists, I’ll give you a referral to a therapist,” Dr. Douglass continued, “but my guess is she’ll be right as rain in a few days.”
“And the talent show?” asked my father.
I held my breath. I really didn’t want to let the Hawkwinds down.
“I don’t see any reason she can’t participate. Olivia, either, although I would stress the importance of not broadcasting her current situation.”
“So we’ll be sending two mutes onstage tonight?” said Iz. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“How about I write a note excusing them both from speaking?” Dr. Douglass offered. “Given the unusual circumstances, I don’t mind stretching the truth a bit.” I heard her scribbling. “There you go — Olivia and Cat are now officially afflicted with a rare form of laryngitis.”
I heard the three of them getting up from their chairs and raced back across the room. I hopped up onto the examination table and pasted an innocent look on my face just as Dr. Douglass entered the room.
She gave me a big smile. “So, young lady, I understand you’re scheduled to play a little Bach tonight?”
I nodded.
“I wish I could be there to hear it. What’s the piece you’re playing?”
I took my notebook and pen from my rain jacket pocket. The Fugue in G Minor, I wrote.
Dr. Douglass’s eyebrows shot up. “Ambitious for a middle school quartet.”
Iz put her arm around my shoulders. “My stepdaughter plays with the Houston Youth Symphony,” she said proudly, giving me a squeeze.
I almost told them everything right then and there. Almost.
The ride home was quiet. Dad and Iz both seemed lost in thought, and I was determined not to give in to the temptation to spill the beans. Toads. Whatever. It didn’t matter how nice my stepmother was—my stepsister wasn’t, and that was the problem.
We stopped to pick up a pizza for dinner. Nobody was in the mood to cook. Back at the house we found Geoffrey all by himself in the living room, happily building a LEGO castle. At first I thought he was humming something by Mozart—the Twelve Variations—then realized it was the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”
“Where’s your sister?” Iz asked, glancing around. Olivia was supposed to be babysitting. She’d obviously been there, because the rug was strewn with flowers. Plus, a line of diamonds glittered at us from atop my little brother’s fortress walls.
Geoffrey pulled his finger out of his mouth and pointed upstairs. Iz marched over to the foot of the stairwell. Dad and I were right behind her. A laugh rang out, and then we heard Olivia squeal, “No way, Piper! You really said that to him?”
My stepsister was on the phone.
Iz drew herself up into the full mad-mom pose, hands on hips and mouth in a thin, flat line. My mother uses the exact same one when she’s ticked off at me. They must teach it at mom school.
“Olivia Jean Haggerty!” she hollered.
“Um, I’ll get dinner on the table,” said my father, backing away with the pizza boxes and disappearing into the kitchen. It was no fun being around when Iz got mad.
“Yes, Mom?” Olivia called back, her voice dripping sweetness and light and who knew what else.
“Come down here this minute, young lady!”
My stepsister appeared at the top of the stairs.
Busted, I thought, suppressing a grin. It might be stupid and childish, but I still get a kick out of it when she gets in trouble.
Iz held out her hand. Olivia slumped down the stairs and handed over her cell phone.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your dresser drawer,” Olivia replied in a low voice.
“You promised!” Iz said grimly, looking hurt and disappointed.
As usual my stepsister tried to weasel out of it. “I know I did, Mom, but I had to check with Piper about my math homework.”
Right. As if the two of them had ever discussed math in their entire lives.
Olivia’s brown eyes filled with tears. “You can’t expect me not to have any friends at all just because of this,” she said, pointing to the bouquet of wilted-looking lupine that now lay on the floor at her feet.
“What I expect is for you to keep your word when you give it,” Iz replied.
I felt a flicker of guilt. I’d broken my promise too.
My stepmother sighed. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Olivia. We need to keep this completely quiet until we find a remedy for you.”
“I am keeping it quiet! The only person I’ve told is Piper.”
I almost laughed out loud. Piper Philbin is the biggest blabbermouth at Hawk Creek Middle School. If she knew Olivia’s secret, all of Portland would know it within the hour.
Iz shook her head. “What’s done is done,” she said. “I guess I’ll have to call Piper’s mother. Help me clean up this mess first.”
The three of us started gathering flowers off the rug. Geoffrey protested as my stepmother stripped his LEGO castle of its glittering ornaments.
“Sweetie, your castle is beautiful,” Iz told him, “but these twinkle stars belong to Olivia. Why don’t you and Cat go help Daddy set the table? One of the pizzas is Hawaiian—your favorite.”
My little brother brightened at this, but his was the only smiling face at the table. Dinner was nearly as silent as the car ride home had been. Olivia picked at her pizza, scowling, obviously still peeved about the loss of her cell phone.
“Dr. Douglass cleared you girls for the talent show tonight,” my father told her, and she perked up at this.
“Hold on, Tim,” said Iz. “After what Olivia pulled this afternoon, I’m not sure she deserves to participate.”
Olivia’s face fell.
Serves you right, I thought. Blabbermouth. My conscience prickled again as I thought about my video chat with A.J., but I pushed the guilty feeling away. That was different.
“I say we let her attend on one condition, and one condition only,” my father replied. He passed Dr. Douglass’s note across the table to her. “Absolutely no talking! To anyone, understand? Until we tell you otherwise, Olivia, you and Cat
are in the same boat.”
Great, I thought. All aboard the USS Laryngitis.
Olivia shot me a look. One that clearly said, I don’t want to be in any boat with you, anyplace, anytime, ever.
She pushed back from the table and stood up. “I’m going upstairs to get my costume on,” she said icily, littering the table with milk-white snowdrops.
As I watched her leave the room, I started to worry. Dr. Douglass might have cleared us for takeoff, but Houston, we definitely had a problem. My stepsister was ready for the talent show, but was the talent show ready for her?
CHAPTER 10
Backstage at Hawk Creek Middle School swarmed with activity.
Using my bassoon case as a wedge, I inched my way through the knots of excited students. Olivia was right behind me, dressed in a sequin-spangled sailor costume.
How appropriate for the USS Laryngitis, I thought bitterly.
My stepsister spotted Piper and peeled off toward her. Half a dozen other tap dancers in identical costumes joined them, and a minute later the sound of their shoes tapping on the wooden floor rose above the hubbub of the crowd as the Hawk Creek Tappers began warming up.
I passed two magicians, a flock of ballerinas, a comedy act (at least, I assumed it was a comedy act, since it consisted of three football players in helmets, pink leotards, and matching tutus), a baton twirler, a juggler, and a skinny kid with two fluffy little dogs on leashes and a big sign that said STUPID PET TRICKS R US.
Finally I made it to where my friends were standing.
“There you are,” said Rajit. “We were starting to get worried about you.”
Rani held out a copy of the program. “We’re on right after your stepsister and her friends,” she told me. “We’ll be closing the show.”
“That’s because they’re saving the best for last,” Juliet said with a smile.
I looked around, wishing there were someplace we could go to warm up. With all the excitement at home this evening, I hadn’t even had time to tune my instrument.
“People!” said Mrs. Bonneville, lifting her voice to be heard above the buzz of excitement backstage. “Listen up! Is everyone in their assigned places?” She marched down the checklist on her clipboard, calling out the acts and checking them off when someone replied. I felt sorry for anyone who didn’t answer “Present.” Mrs. Bonneville didn’t take any guff even from kids who weren’t her students.
“Five minutes to showtime!” she said when she was done. “Mrs. Bonneville suggests you visit the girls’ and boys’ rooms now, because there won’t be time later.”
“Good idea,” said Rani. “I’m getting nervous, how about you?”
I nodded vigorously. I always get nervous before concerts.
Juliet joined us, and the three of us left our instrument cases with Rajit, then headed out the stage’s exit door and down the hallway. There was a line inside the bathroom. I spotted Olivia at the sink, adjusting her sailor hat. Piper was standing next to her, clutching a fistful of pink tulips. I caught her eye in the mirror and she gave a start, then elbowed Olivia and nodded in my direction.
Olivia turned around and I scowled at her. I know exactly what you’re up to, I thought, with a significant glance at the flowers. My stepsister hadn’t been at school five minutes and she’d already broken her promise to Dad and Iz.
My first instinct was to go and find them and tell on her. I knew it wouldn’t work, though. By the time I tracked them down and wrote out an explanation, the flowers would be long gone.
Olivia gave me the stink eye, then flounced out. A few minutes later, when Rani and Juliet and I emerged back into the hallway, she was waiting for me, along with the rest of the Hawk Creek Tappers.
My stepsister pinched her nose with her fingers.
“Catbox!” cried Piper, right on cue.
Their friends laughed and held their noses too, backing away from me as if they smelled something horrible. Dissolving into giggles, they tapped away down the hall toward the backstage door.
I had no choice but to stand there in silence, stifling the urge to tell Olivia off in front of everyone. I couldn’t, of course. I couldn’t say a word. I might as well have been wearing a gag. Hot tears of rage welled up in my eyes.
“Don’t pay any attention to them, Cat,” said Rani, with a glance at my burning face. “Sometimes they still call me Curry Head Kumar. Especially if there aren’t any teachers around.”
We made our way back to where Rajit was waiting for us, careful to keep our distance from my stepsister and her friends. Olivia thought she was so smart, getting all her friends to gang up on me like that. It would serve her right if I did tell my father and Iz about the tulips in the bathroom.
But there wasn’t time now. The curtain was going up.
The first act was the baton twirler. As she went onstage, I stood in the wings, watching Olivia. My stepsister made me so mad I could just spit. Suddenly I realized that I could do better than spit. I could toad.
Emboldened, I considered the idea. Maybe it was time to unleash the weapon that would allow me to even up the score. Maybe it was time for a little guerrilla toad-fare. I was Cat Starr, Toad Huntress, after all.
Olivia had no idea who she was dealing with.
I bided my time as act after act went out onstage. Some of them, like the juggler and the kid with the fluffy dogs, were awful. The juggler dropped everything he flung into the air, and the dogs wouldn’t do anything except sit, and kept scratching themselves and wandering off the stage. The audience thought this was funny, but the skinny kid was practically in tears by the time he was finished. A few of the other acts were pretty good, though, especially the football players in the tutus. They’d worked up a ballet routine, and they were really funny.
Finally it was time for the Hawk Creek Tappers. I crept forward as my stepsister and her friends ran onstage and took their places, concealing myself in the folds of the heavy velvet curtain. As their music started, I bent down, pretending to tie my shoe as I quietly whispered, “Olivia stinks.”
Out popped a toad. I caught it and held its squirming body to my chest. Good thing I’m not squeamish. Then I did the same thing two more times, figuring a trio of toads was enough to do the trick.
By this time the dance routine was well under way. I placed the toads on the floor and lifted the hem of the curtain. The toads blinked in the spotlights. I gave them each a nudge with my foot, and as they hopped off toward the line of dancers, I casually walked back to rejoin my friends.
A minute later I heard squeals and shrieks from the stage, followed by laughter from the audience. The dancing stopped abruptly, replaced by the rat-a-tat-tat of a dozen pairs of tap shoes as the Hawk Creek Tappers scattered.
Take that, Miss Prissy Pants, I thought smugly. You don’t mess with the Stealth Toader.
Everyone waiting backstage crowded forward to see what was going on. When they spotted the toads and the shrieking girls, they started laughing too.
My homeroom teacher clutched her clipboard to her chest and sent in the football players, still in their tutus, for toad control, causing another wave of laughter to sweep through the audience.
“Oh man, that was hilarious!” said Rajit after everything finally calmed down.
People were still giggling as he and Rani and Juliet and I took our seats. We set our music on our stands, and Rajit took out his electronic tuner. Flute, check. Clarinet, check. Oboe, check. Then it was my turn. I closed my eyes as I always did when I tuned up, shutting out the world and listening intently for the pitch. As I played the note and adjusted my bassoon to match it, I heard a gasp from the audience, then a giggle. When I opened my eyes to see what was so funny, though, the only thing I saw was Rajit’s nod, signaling us to begin.
The audience stilled as the first haunting notes of the fugue echoed across the stage. I sat back, counting the measures and waiting for my cue. The bassoon was the last voice to join in. Finally it was my turn. As soon as I lifted my instrument
to my mouth and began to play, though, the giggles started again. I frowned, concentrating on the music. The snickers grew into guffaws, then belly laughs.
The fugue limped to a finish, drowned out by howls of delight from the audience.
My friends were looking at me strangely.
“Cat!” whispered Juliet, pointing urgently at my feet.
I looked down at the floor and gasped. I was surrounded by a sea of toads. They could only have come from one place—me. I played a tentative note, just to check, and sure enough, a toad popped out the end of my bassoon.
My face went scarlet. No wonder everyone was laughing! Only Mr. Morgan looked unhappy. He was standing in the wings with his face buried in his hands.
“How was that for a grand finale?” cried Mr. Randolph, our principal, bounding up the steps onto the stage and facing the delighted audience. He shook his head and chuckled. “What a showstopper! I don’t know how you kids did it—or what you’re planning to do with all these, uh, frogs, are they? I’m sure the Biology Department can find a use for them. At any rate, congratulations!”
He beckoned to Mrs. Bonneville, who minced carefully across the stage to join him. She let out a squeak as one of the toads sprang onto her shoe, which set the audience off again.
“If you’d all care to join us in the cafeteria,” she said stiffly, flicking it off, “we’ll be serving refreshments in just a few minutes.” She turned to head for the stairs, and as she passed me and my fellow Hawkwinds, she whispered, “Mrs. Bonneville expects you to clean this mess up!”
The tutu-wearing football players came back onstage as the auditorium started clearing out. While they gleefully herded toads, my friends and I packed up our instruments. Rani, Rajit, and Juliet were strangely quiet. None of them would meet my gaze.
I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say—not that I could say anything. I had no intention of opening my mouth ever again.
“Thanks a lot, Cat,” said Rani bitterly, as she stood up to go. “That toad in the locker room was funny, but this? I thought you were my friend. I don’t know how you did it, or why, but way to ruin everything for us.”