Ten Kids, No Pets

  Jan was counting the days to Christmas, and there weren’t too many left. Just eleven. Not bad, considering she’d started with fifty-eight. Jan wasn’t sure what that meant, but she did know that the farmhouse was full of secrets. Her father was working away at Project X in the basement. Jan often heard hammering and tapping and sawing and the rasping sound of the plane as it smoothed rough edges. Everywhere she went, someone cried, “Don’t look!” or “Close your eyes!” or “Don’t come in!” There were closets labeled Do Not Enter and No Peeking!

  Jan had secrets of her own. Some were homemade, as her mother wanted, and some were store-bought. She was very proud that she had presents, or ideas for presents, for every member of her family. Eleven presents were a lot. And she had made very special Christmas cards for her grandparents and Mr. Heppler.

  Jan’s best homemade present was for her mother. She had found some stencils and painted fruit designs onto jar lids to make beautiful coasters for when company came. Her best store-bought present was for Abbie. Abbie liked jewelry, so Jan had bought her a pair of earrings with long blue feathers on them. They were gorgeous. And they had cost almost two dollars. Jan had wrapped them and put them under her bed with her other presents.

  Jan noticed that year that the closer Christmas came, the harder it was to sleep. She never knew when Santa Claus might be out making a trial run. It would be so exciting to see him! One night Jan awoke with a start. She thought she had heard something. Sleigh bells jingling? Rudolph pawing at the eaves? Jan leaped out of bed. She ran to the window. She saw only the moon shining on another feeble dusting of snow, and heard only … rap, rap, rap. It was her father in his workshop.

  Jan knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the house was silent. She tiptoed into the hall. Since she couldn’t tell time, she had no idea how late it was. The doors to the bedrooms of her brothers and sisters were closed, although a light was on in the big girls’ room. But the door to her parents’ room was open, and their bed was still made.

  Jan crept downstairs. The hammering grew louder. She reached the door to the basement and saw the Project X sign. Well, that was that. She couldn’t go any farther. She knew better than to intrude on Project X. As Jan stood there, the hammering stopped, and she heard voices. Her mother was in the basement, too.

  Jan couldn’t help listening for a few moments. She’d been so good about not going in closets or lifting the Project X sheet.

  “… kids …” she heard her mother say. And then something about Christmas.

  Her father’s voice was louder. “… never guess it’s a doghouse.”

  Jan’s heart began to pound as loudly as her father’s hammer. A doghouse! If her father was building a doghouse, it could mean only one thing. Mrs. Rosso had changed her mind about a pet, and Jan and her brothers and sisters were being given a dog — probably a puppy — for Christmas. That truly was a surprise! It would be the best surprise of their lives. No wonder Jan’s father had made such a big deal about Project X.

  Jan ran back up the stairs and down the hall and jumped into her bed. She wished Ira or Hannah were awake because she was bursting with her news. Then she remembered that Project X was a secret, and that she shouldn’t tell what she had found out. With great difficulty Jan managed to fall asleep again, and she dreamed about puppies all night.

  The next morning Jan kept the amazing secret while she got ready for school. She kept it during breakfast. She kept it while Mrs. Rosso shooed the ten children out the door in alphabetical order. But the secret didn’t last much longer. By the time Jan reached the bus stop, she truly thought she was going to explode. She wriggled around like a puppy, and hopped from one foot to the other.

  “Guys?” Jan said, addressing all of her brothers and sisters.

  No one was paying attention.

  “Guys? … Guys? … I found out what Project X is!”

  Woody and Hardy stopped punching each other. Hannah stopped teasing the twins.

  “I have to tell you!” exclaimed Jan. “I just have to. It is so good! I accidentally heard Mommy and Daddy talking last night, and Project X is … a doghouse!”

  “A doghouse? Are you sure?” cried Hannah.

  “It is shaped like a doghouse,” said Hardy slowly, thinking of the sheet-covered form he’d seen in the basement.

  “I’m very sure,” said Jan. “So that means we’re probably getting a puppy for Christmas.”

  The Rosso kids looked at each other excitedly.

  “I wonder what made Mom change her mind,” mused Abbie.

  “Who cares? Don’t knock it,” said Woody. “Maybe Dad made her change her mind. He’s never said ten kids is enough.”

  “We can’t let Mom and Dad know that we know about Project X, though,” Bainbridge reminded the others. “Okay? That’s our secret.”

  “Okay,” agreed his brothers and sisters.

  “Oh, let’s buy the puppy some presents!” said Candy. “We could get it a leash and a collar and a food dish. Then we’ll be ready for it. Our puppy should have some presents on Christmas, too.”

  The Rosso kids were very busy the next few days. When Mrs. Rosso drove into town, Bainbridge and Candy went with her. They had collected money from all of the kids, and they secretly bought some puppy supplies. Abbie began knitting a blanket for the puppy. Jan and Ira wrapped the puppy’s presents. The presents would have to stay hidden, though, until after the puppy had made his appearance.

  “We better choose a name for our puppy,” Jan told Ira and Hannah as they were getting ready for bed one chilly night.

  “Right,” said Hannah. “Let’s talk to the others.”

  The kids met in the twins’ room.

  “We need a boy’s name and a girl’s name,” said Jan.

  “But we are not going to look in What Shall We Name the Baby?” said Abbie. “I’ll never forget when Mom found out she was going to have twins, and she opened that awful book and saw that the girls’ names would be Faustine and Gardenia.”

  “What were the boys’ names?” asked Dinnie curiously.

  “Farley and Galen.” Abbie made a gagging sound.

  “You mean I could have been named Farley?” shrieked Faustine.

  “It’s not as bad as Dagwood,” said Woody.

  “Well, anyway,” said Abbie, “we’ll decide on nice, normal names for the puppy. And we won’t even think about Name the Baby.”

  “I like Sally,” said Jan.

  “Mary,” said Abbie.

  “Tom,” said Ira.

  “John,” said Woody.

  “A puppy named John?” asked Bainbridge.

  The Rossos decided to name the puppy after they had seen it.

  * * *

  Christmas Eve that year was a crystal-clear, starry night.

  “No snow for Christmas,” said Ira, sounding disappointed.

  “But this is better,” said Jan. “Santa won’t get lost. He and Rudolph will be able to see where they’re going.” And I’ll be able to see them, she thought.

  Abbie and Bainbridge hid smiles. It had been a long time since they’d believed in Santa.

  Jan was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all on Christmas Eve. The day had already been exciting, and so many more exciting things would happen while she was in bed. The tree had been trimmed several days earlier, but on Christmas Eve Mr. Rosso had turned on its lights for the first time. Jan had looked at her little tree standing in the corner of the living room in a haze of soft, glowing color and thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  Then Jan and the rest of the kids had brought all of their presents out of secret hiding places and arranged them under the tree. They’d sung Christmas carols and had eggnog (Jan had spit hers out), and then Jan had set out a plate of cookies for Santa Claus.

  Finally, Mrs. Rosso had said, “Time for bed, kids!” and Jan hadn’t objected. Santa would come only after she’d gone to sleep. Then he’d slide down the chimney and fill the twelve stockings and pile more pres
ents under the tree. Before he left he’d stop to eat Jan’s snack. Oh, it was so exciting! How could Jan possibly fall asleep?

  But she did. And when she awoke in the gray dawn of Christmas, she realized she’d slept very soundly. She didn’t remember hearing sleigh bells or hooves pawing the roof or a jolly voice calling out, “Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

  But who cared? It was Christmas!

  “Merry Christmas!” cried Jan. “Merry Christmas!”

  Hannah and Ira were up in a flash. “Come on!” said Hannah.

  The three youngest Rosso children ran through the second floor hallway, knocking on bedroom doors. “It’s Christmas!” they shouted.

  Everyone woke up quickly, even Abbie, who had said she was too old to get excited about Christmas anymore. But Mr. Rosso wouldn’t allow anyone downstairs until he’d lit their Christmas morning fire and made a pot of coffee.

  After what seemed like days to Jan, her father called, “Okay, everybody!”

  The kids were lined up on the steps in reverse alphabetical order — Jan first, Abbie last. They ran downstairs. Jan was greeted by stuffed stockings and mounds of gifts. She was glad there were twelve people in her family because she liked the sight of lots and lots of presents.

  For the next couple of hours Jan and her brothers and sisters untied ribbons and ripped through wrapping paper. Jan got her very own microphone so she could pretend she was singing on a stage, a sweater knitted by Mrs. Rosso, a doctor’s kit and uniform, and a jigsaw puzzle specially made by Hardy. The living room of the Rosso’s house was filled with oohs and aahs. But when the last gift had been opened, no doghouse (or puppy) was in sight.

  “What do you know?” Mr. Rosso said suddenly to Mrs. Rosso. “I believe there’s one more gift. We forgot something.”

  Jan watched her father disappear into the basement. A few minutes later he returned with Project X in his arms. It was still covered with the sheet. He set it in front of Jan. “This is for you, sweetie,” he said. “Merry Christmas!”

  “For me?” Jan couldn’t believe it. The puppy was going to be hers! She wondered where it was hidden.

  Jan pulled the sheet up carefully.

  Underneath was a spectacular … dollhouse.

  “A dollhouse?” exclaimed Jan. What had happened? She had misunderstood something.

  A moment of stunned silence followed. Abbie broke it. “Oh, Dad, it’s beautiful!” she cried. “Isn’t it, Jan?”

  “Yes … beautiful,” Jan managed to say. And it was. It was the dollhouse of Jan’s dreams. It’s just that it wasn’t a doghouse. But Jan tried to look thrilled anyway.

  Christmas Day was so full of new toys and phone calls and visitors that Jan and her brothers and sisters were able to cover up their disappointment easily. That night they put the puppy’s Christmas presents in the attic. Christmas was over, and Jan had a dollhouse, but the Rossos were still without a pet.

  Eberhard Rosso’s heart was racing. A blizzard! Had he heard right? The weather forecaster had just predicted a blizzard.

  It was a Tuesday in January, three weeks after Christmas, and Hardy and his brothers had come home from school.

  “We’ve hardly had any snow since we moved here,” Hardy remarked. “Just little dustings. Look outside. Not a flake in sight.”

  Woody shrugged. He reached across Hardy to change the station on the radio.

  “Hey! Leave it alone!” cried Hardy. “I want to hear the next weather report.”

  “You can hear it later. If there’s going to be a blizzard, we’ll know about it. But this station is really boring.”

  “Don’t touch it!”

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “Hey, you guys,” said Bainbridge. “Be quiet. I have to start my homework.”

  Woody shot both of his brothers a murderous look, then raised his hand to karate-chop the radio. Bainbridge caught his hand on its way down.

  “If you break that, little brother, I’ll break —”

  “Shh!” hissed Hardy. “Listen!”

  “… winter storm warnings are in effect,” the newscaster on the radio was saying. “We might see as much as two feet of snow. And high winds will cause drifting of up to five feet. We’re really going to get it this time, folks!” he added. “Please stay tuned for further details.”

  Hardy stared at his brothers in awe. “Whoa” was all he could say.

  But the next morning didn’t seem very promising, blizzard-wise.

  “Will you look at that,” said Hardy in disgust, peering out of the boys’ bedroom window at the thermometer on the side of the house. “Forty-three degrees. How’s it supposed to snow at that temperature? And look at the sky. It’s gray, all right, but I’ve seen worse. I know what’s going to happen. They’re going to get us all psyched up for a blizzard, and then we’ll have about two inches of snow — maybe less — and they won’t even have to close school.”

  “Would you chill out?” said Bainbridge. “Finish getting dressed. We’re going to be late for breakfast.”

  “I want to hear the weather again first,” Hardy replied, reaching for the radio. But before he could turn it on, a shriek came from Abbie and Candy’s room.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Woody, Hardy, and Bainbridge dashed into their sisters’ room.

  “A blizzard! We’re going to get a blizzard!” cried Candy. “Isn’t that romantic?”

  “You mean they’re still predicting the blizzard?” asked Hardy. Excitement shot through him. “What did they say?”

  “They said the temperature’s supposed to drop all day, accompanied by thickening clouds and rising winds,” Candy replied.

  “What’d you do?” Woody interrupted. “Memorize the report?”

  “Ignore him, Candy,” said Abbie. “Go on.”

  “Snow is supposed to start falling by midnight tonight and go on for who knows how long.”

  “All right!” whooped Hardy. “All right!”

  Sure enough, the temperature did drop that day. It was well into the twenties by the time Hardy and the other elementary school kids got off their bus and started up the drive to the Rossos’ farmhouse.

  “It’s going to snow for sure,” said Faustine, sniffing the air. “I can smell it.”

  “And I can feel it,” added Dinnie, rubbing her wrist. Dinnie had once broken her wrist badly, and now it let her know with a dull ache whenever rain or snow was on the way.

  “Wind’s picking up, too,” said Hardy, looking at the lashing treetops.

  “Poor birds,” said Faustine. “I always feel sorry for the birds and wild animals when it snows. They have such a hard time finding food.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Hannah.

  “And they have to sleep in the snow,” Jan pointed out. “Yuck.”

  A gust of wind blew a dirty paper cup against Ira’s foot. “Litterbugs,” he muttered. He picked up the cup gingerly and held it away from him as he and the others hurried toward the house, heads bent into the wind.

  Mrs. Rosso greeted them with hugs and hot chocolate. “Snow’s on the way,” she said. “We’ll have to batten down the hatches tonight.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Hardy.

  “Make sure everything in the yard is put away or tied down. It wouldn’t hurt to close the shutters on the house, either. Apparently, we’re in for a doozy. I’m going to drive into town now and buy some candles and canned food, just in case. Anyone want to come with me?”

  “I do!” cried the younger children. But Hardy decided to stay at home where he could keep an eye on the storm.

  Not much happened that afternoon, though, except that the wind began to howl around the corners of the farmhouse, and night seemed to fall quickly as the sky grew darker and heavier with clouds.

  Mrs. Rosso and Jan, Ira, and Hannah returned with bags of supplies, and Mr. Rosso came home from work somewhat earlier than usual. “It’s as dark as a pocket out there,” he said, “and as cold as a witch’s nose.”

&n
bsp; That night Mrs. Rosso fixed chickens for dinner. (If she planned things just right, the twelve Rossos could eat exactly two whole large chickens at a meal.) Afterward, Hardy trailed through the house, following his father, who was closing the shutters and checking nooks and crannies for cracks that might let the snow m.

  “Better start your homework, son,” said Mr. Rosso absently.

  Hardy was much too excited to settle down with his homework. Besides, he was sure he didn’t need to do it. “Aw, Dad, we won’t have school tomorrow.”

  “You never know. Better get to it.”

  Hardy did a patchwork job on his math, jumping up every few minutes to look out the window. By the time he went to bed at ten o’clock, not a flake of snow had fallen. But the wind was so fierce that it rattled the shutters and whistled down the chimney in the living room.

  Like Jan on Christmas Eve, Hardy was sure he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, but he did, almost immediately, and when he awoke, it was the next morning — five minutes before the boys’ alarm clock was set to go off. Hardy rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thud, and made a grab for the window shade. It snapped up, and Hardy carefully opened the window and the shutters. He was nearly blinded — not by the glare of sunlight but by a world turned white.

  “It’s the blizzard!” Hardy shouted. “It’s here!”

  “Mmphh?” mumbled Bainbridge and Woody from their beds.

  “It’s the blizzard!” Hardy was in awe of what he saw outside the window. The farmyard was blanketed with a thick covering of snow, and more was falling, although to Hardy the snow looked less as if it were falling than as if it were being hurled from the clouds in angry handfuls. He had never seen anything like it. The snow came teeming and whirling down, and while a regular old snowfall is quiet, this storm was noisy. The wind continued to roar and howl as it lashed the snow to the ground.

  “Oh, boy,” murmured Hardy, closing the window. “No school today. That’s for sure.” But he knew he had to check, so he turned the radio on softly and tuned it to a local station.

  “… everything closed up tight as a drum here in Mercer County,” the announcer was saying. “All schools are closed. I repeat, all public, private, and parochial schools in Mercer County are closed today.”