Eleven Kids, One Summer

  “Excuse me,” said the man politely. He removed his hat. He told Mrs. Rosso what the twins had been doing the past few mornings.

  Mrs. Rosso listened patiently. Then she asked the twins to apologize to the fisherman. When they had finished, and when they had promised that they wouldn’t put up any more signs or bother the fishermen in any way, the man left.

  “Faustine,” said Mrs. Rosso, “your father has already spoken to you about giving people a hard time when their views differ from yours. Maybe he should have been clearer. Maybe he should have said you are not to give anyone a hard time. How would you feel if the fishermen stuck a sign on our deck that said ‘Twins Are Pests’?”

  “Embarrassed,” admitted Faustine.

  “So will you please give your great fish protest a rest?”

  Faustine nodded.

  And she did give it a rest. But for the rest of the summer, whenever she took an early morning walk, she turned left instead of right when she reached the beach so that she wouldn’t have to walk by the fishermen.

  It wasn’t fair, Hannah thought. It just wasn’t fair. Here she was in a family with ten brothers and sisters, and she didn’t fit in anywhere. She had no special brother or sister who was her best friend. Jan and Ira had each other, the twins had each other, and Woody and Hardy had each other. Also, she was too young to play with Abbie, Candy, or Bainbridge. Besides, she wasn’t interested in the things that interested them. Abbie liked talking about boys, Bainbridge liked girls, and Candy … well, Hannah wasn’t sure what Candy liked. Candy’s head was in the clouds. She was always daydreaming or reading. It was hard to get into her world. Mrs. Rosso said that Candy was romantic, which Hannah thought was even worse then liking boys. Besides, Candy was acting weird that summer. (Weird for Candy.) She spent more time gazing at the house next door than at the beach.

  So that left Keegan. And he was just a baby. What do you do with a baby?

  This summer, thought Hannah, is royally boring. It needs to be a little livelier.

  Hannah looked for ways to spice up the summer. She tried spying on her brothers and sisters, but Candy caught her, and anyway she couldn’t find much that was worth spying on. She tried teaching herself magic from a book, but no one seemed interested in watching card tricks.

  What Hannah needed was a friend, but she didn’t know how to go about finding one. So she asked herself a question: When I’m at home in New Jersey and I get bored, what do I do?

  The answer came to her immediately. She played practical jokes. Well, she could play jokes at the beach just as easily as she could on the farm. (Actually, she had already played a few small jokes on Candy. Now, though, she would become a serious joke-player.)

  Hannah’s idea came to her late one morning, just before lunchtime. She decided to get to work on it right away.

  “Mom?” said Hannah. “I’ll set the table for you.”

  “Thank you,” replied Mrs. Rosso, looking surprised. “That will give me a chance to change Keegan. I can smell him from over here.”

  Hannah worked quickly. Her first joke was so simple it scared her. She dumped the sugar out of the sugar bowl and back into the bag of sugar. Then she filled the empty bowl with salt. When that was done, she quickly set the table. No one would have any idea what she’d done — at first.

  * * *

  But her brothers and sisters found out when they returned to the house for lunch, eagerly poured iced tea from the pitcher into their glasses, and began spooning in salt from the sugar bowl.

  Jan was the first to take a drink. She was thirsty from having played on the beach all morning. She took a big gulp — and spat her iced tea across the table at Ira.

  “Ew!” they both cried.

  “Jan!” exclaimed Mrs. Rosso. “What has gotten into you?”

  “There’s something wrong with the iced tea!” Jan managed to gasp. “What did you put in it?”

  “Tea bags, water, and ice,” replied Mrs. Rosso.

  Abbie took a swallow of her tea. She grimaced and said, “Um, Mom, Jan’s right. This tastes funny.”

  Woody took a sip. “Funny!” he exclaimed. “It tastes like dog barf!”

  “Enough, Woody,” said Mrs. Rosso. She tasted the iced tea in the pitcher. “This seems fine to me,” she said. Then she tasted the tea in her glass. “Ugh. Something happened to the tea between the pitcher and our glasses.”

  Woody, who liked to solve mysteries, looked suspiciously at the sugar bowl. He reached for it, wet his finger, stuck it in the bowl (“Ew!” cried finicky Ira again. “Germs!”), and tasted his finger.

  “Hey! This is salt, not sugar!” he cried.

  At that point, Hannah couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

  “Hannah!” exclaimed Mrs. Rosso. “Is that why you wanted to set the table?”

  “Yes!” replied Hannah, giggling helplessly.

  For a moment, no one knew whether to scold Hannah or laugh with her. Then all at the same time, the Rossos began to laugh.

  That evening, after dinner, Hannah short-sheeted Jan’s bed.

  “I think I’ll go to bed early,” she announced afterward. It was only seven-thirty, long before Hannah’s summer bedtime, but she wanted to be in the room when Jan climbed into bed.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Mrs. Rosso asked Hannah.

  “Fine, Mom. I just want to rest up for tomorrow. It’s going to be a busy day.”

  Mrs. Rosso looked skeptical but kissed Hannah good night. Then Hannah went to the room she shared with Jan, got into bed, and waited.

  Half an hour later, Jan, already in her pajamas, pulled back the covers on her bed. She climbed in.

  Hannah heard her rustling around and smothered a giggle.

  “Hey!” cried Jan finally. “Hey!”

  “What’s wrong?” Hannah asked, pretending to sound sleepy.

  “Something’s the matter with my bed,” replied Jan.

  “What?” asked Hannah.

  “I don’t know. I can’t see.” Jan flicked on the light. She examined her bed. Then, “Mommy!”

  Mrs. Rosso came running. “Jan?” she called.

  “Mommy, look at my bed.”

  Mrs. Rosso took one look at the bed, then peered over at Hannah. “I wonder who could have short-sheeted Jan’s bed,” she said.

  “Gosh, Mom. I don’t know. Probably Woody,” said Hannah.

  Mrs. Rosso called Woody into the girls’ room. Of course, he said that he had not touched Jan’s bed. The other Rossos said the same thing. Hannah would not confess to her crime, though, so Mrs. Rosso simply helped Jan make up her bed again.

  Nobody said another word about what had happened.

  * * *

  Two nights later, a shriek rang through the beach house.

  It was a Saturday, and Mr. Rosso was there.

  “Good grief!” he exclaimed. “Who was that?”

  A few seconds later, Abbie came sheepishly into the living room where Mr. and Mrs. Rosso were reading, and Hannah, Woody, Hardy, and Candy were trying to watch television. (The reception on Fire Island was very poor. All grainy and wavy.)

  “Sorry, everybody,” said Abbie. “That was me. I just found this” (she held something gingerly between her thumb and forefinger) “under my pillow. It’s a spider — a real one — but at least it’s dead.”

  “Now how did that get there?” asked Mr. Rosso suspiciously. Both he and Mrs. Rosso eyed Hannah, but Hannah didn’t move. She gazed at the TV set.

  “Hannah?” said Mr. Rosso. “Hannah?”

  “Okay, okay, I did it,” Hannah confessed. “Sheesh.”

  The Rossos docked Hannah one week’s allowance, but Hannah didn’t care. In fact, two days later, Hannah got a brilliant idea. She was tired of the little practical jokes she’d been pulling off. They were too easy. She needed a bigger challenge. Her idea came when she was wandering down the beach one day and caught sight of Abbie with her new friends, Mel, Lacey, and Justin. If she could get Justin alone for a moment …
>
  Surprisingly, Hannah did find Justin alone. It was the next morning, and she was walking Keegan in his stroller. She had decided to take him to the Harbor Store and buy a Popsicle for herself. And who should she run into as she poked through the freezer, but Justin Hart himself.

  “Hi!” said Hannah brightly. “I’m Hannah Rosso, Abbie’s sister.” She paused, pretending to look embarrassed. “Um, hey, isn’t it funny that we should bump into each other?”

  Justin flashed his movie-star smile at her. “Why is it funny?” he asked.

  “Because Abbie wanted me to tell you something. She’s too shy to tell you herself, so I said I would do it. Only I didn’t know where to find you. And I wouldn’t want to bother you when you’re working on your movie.”

  “What’s Abbie’s message?” asked Justin, still smiling.

  Hannah whispered something in Justin’s ear. Then she fled from the store with Keegan, not bothering to buy a Popsicle after all.

  She waited for results.

  She got them the next day. Abbie left the house early in the morning to join Mel and Lacey who were going to watch Justin shoot a very sentimental scene on the beach that day. But she returned a half an hour later.

  She was crying.

  “Abbie, what’s wrong?” asked Mrs. Rosso, genuinely concerned, since Abbie rarely cried.

  “Mel and Lacey are mad at me,” she said. “Justin told them that I said I have a crush on him. I never said that! I mean, I think he’s cute and nice and everything, but he’s Mel’s boyfriend. I would never try to break them up. And that’s what Mel accused me of.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” said Mrs. Rosso. She sat on the couch, pulling Abbie down next to her. She put her arms around her. “Did you tell the kids you didn’t do anything wrong?”

  Abbie shook her head. “I guess I should have, but I was too surprised. And now Mel’s so mad she’s giving me the silent treatment.”

  The silent treatment lasted until the weekend. On Saturday, Abbie woke up and announced, “Today I’m going to talk to Melanie. I’m going to tell her I don’t know what Justin was talking about. She can believe me or not. It’s up to her.”

  Melanie must have believed Abbie. She and Lacey forgave her. They were friends again. Hannah grew bored. She would have to think of something else to do. She decided to concentrate on Candy. She already knew Candy was an easy target.

  Hannah was jealous of Candy. Candy had gotten a room to herself that summer. Hannah had never had a room to herself. To make things worse, she had to share with Jan, who was the biggest baby in the world. Jan was a tattle-tale, and Ira lavished attention on her, and sometimes Mrs. Rosso gave her special privileges even though Keegan was the true baby of the family. If only Hannah had discovered the little bedroom in time, maybe it could have been hers. But Candy had found it first and had claimed it.

  One night, Hannah waited until she was sure everyone in her family was asleep. She crept out the back door and walked along the deck to the window of Candy’s room. She made sure the window was open. Then she moaned, “IIIII ammmmm the ghooooost next dooooor…. IIIII ammmmm the ghooooost of the seeeea!” She made her voice rise to a squeak. “You dooooon’t haaaaave much tiiiiime leeeeeft.”

  When she heard Candy gasp, Hannah darted back into the house and jumped in bed. Candy didn’t say anything the next morning about hearing ghosts, but from the look in her eyes, Hannah knew she had heard all right. Just like she had heard Hannah moaning, weeks ago.

  The following night, Hannah waited again until everyone was asleep. This time she tiptoed into Candy’s room and left two seashells on the windowsill. In the morning she was awakened by a shriek.

  It was Candy. “Aughh!” she cried. “The ghost of the sea has been here!”

  Hannah had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

  “What?” Mrs. Rosso rushed into Candy’s room. Hannah followed her.

  “The ghost of the sea,” said Candy breathlessly. She was standing by the window, still wearing her nightgown. “Two nights ago he was calling for me. And last night he left these” (Candy gingerly held out the seashells) “on the windowsill. They’re a sign. He really is coming to get me.”

  “Oh, Candy,” said practical Mrs. Rosso, “you must have been dreaming about ghosts. And you probably left the shells on the sill yourself. You kids have been collecting shells ever since we got here.”

  “I — I didn’t do those things,” said Candy. But Mrs. Rosso was not convinced.

  Hannah smiled to herself. This was fun! The summer was becoming much more interesting. She planned her next trick. It was going to be simple. After that, she would try something more difficult.

  Hannah knew that Candy would be careful not to leave anything on her windowsill again. Not after Mrs. Rosso had hinted that Candy was just absentminded. So that night, Hannah once again tiptoed into her sister’s room. This time, she left a crab claw on the sill.

  The result was amazing. Candy awakened the entire family at six o’clock the next morning when she got up to use the bathroom and saw the claw.

  “He’s back! He’s back! He’s back!” she shrieked. “The ghost of the sea has been here again!” Candy was practically hysterical, and only Bainbridge was able to go to sleep again that morning. Everyone else was up for the day. (Well, Keegan was up until his first nap of the day.)

  Wow, thought Hannah. She set about planning her next trick. It involved three seashells, a note, and a squirt gun. Hannah had to buy a squirt gun at the Harbor Store. She’d thought Woody had brought one to Fire Island, but she couldn’t find it anywhere. Oh well. The squirt gun only cost $2.98. That wasn’t much money, considering what Hannah had saved from her allowance, and it was good to have a squirt gun around. You never knew when you might need one. Then she quickly collected the shells, and after that she wrote the note.

  Hannah waited until midnight to set things in motion. When she looked at her watch in the moonlight and saw both hands pointing to twelve, she crept into Candy’s room and left the shells and the note on the windowsill. The note said, in wobbly, ghostlike writing: Watch out. I’m still coming for you, Candy. — The Ghost of the Sea.

  Then Hannah tiptoed to Candy’s doorway. “Caaaaan-deeeee … Caaaaan-deeeee …” she whispered.

  “Mmphh?” said Candy, coming to.

  That was when Hannah squirted her in the face twice with her new water pistol and then fled back to her room.

  Of course, Candy awakened the entire household again, screaming about the ghost of the sea.

  “He was here!” she cried to her mother. “I’m all wet. And a sea ghost would be wet, wouldn’t he?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mrs. Rosso with a sigh. And then, as everyone looked on, Hannah’s mother spotted the note on the windowsill. She read it aloud. She looked at it for a long time. Finally she said, “Hannah, come to my room, please.”

  Reluctantly, Hannah followed her mother. Mrs. Rosso closed the door to the bedroom behind them and pointed to a chair. Hannah sat in it.

  “This note is in your handwriting, Hannah,” said her mother.

  Hannah nodded her head. She’d been caught.

  “You’re grounded for a day,” pronounced Mrs. Rosso. “You’ll spend tomorrow inside. And before you go back to bed, I want you to apologize to your sister.”

  “Okay.”

  Hannah apologized to Candy, She spent the next day indoors, bored out of her skull. Mrs. Rosso wouldn’t even let her watch TV.

  For several days, nothing happened to Candy. Then on a Saturday night, with Mr. Rosso on the island for the weekend, the entire Rosso family went out to dinner at Davis Park’s only restaurant. (The waiters had to move three tables together to make room for them.) When they returned to the beach house, Hannah was surprised to hear screams coming (once again) from Candy’s room.

  “He’s back!” cried Candy. “My room is all wet!”

  “I didn’t do it,” said Hannah immediately. “I was at the restaurant with every
one else.”

  “That lets me off the hook, too,” said Woody.

  “Then there really is a ghost!” said Candy hysterically.

  Mr. Rosso sighed. Mrs. Rosso told him what had been going on. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this,” he said, looking at the puddle on Candy’s floor. Then he glanced up. “And there it is,” he said. “The roof leaks, Candy. This is water from the rain we had during dinner. Bainbridge and I will patch up the roof tomorrow.”

  “How come the roof never leaked before?” asked Candy.

  “Because the hole probably wasn’t big enough,” said Mr. Rosso.

  * * *

  The next day, Bainbridge and Mr. Rosso fixed the roof of the beach house. And the day after that, when Hannah was taking Keegan for a morning stroll, she met a girl her own age who was also pushing a baby in a stroller.

  The girl smiled at Hannah. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing at Keegan.

  “My little brother,” replied Hannah.

  “Oh. This is my brother, too. I’m Jennifer. His name is Jacob.”

  “I’m Hannah, and this is Keegan.”

  “Want to walk together?” asked Jennifer.

  “Sure,” replied Hannah.

  She had a friend at last.

  The signs were everywhere.

  “Caution,” they read. “Deer Ticks May Carry Lyme Disease.”

  The signs terrified Ira. They were the one thing about Fire Island that he truly did not like. Okay, the sand that got in the house, on the kitchen counters, somehow even in his bed — that was not great. And the mosquitoes and gnats and beach flies bothered him. Ira liked things neat and tidy. And he was afraid of germs. But the idea of Lyme disease bothered him much more than sand or insects.

  When Ira first saw the signs about Lyme disease, he said to himself, All I have to do is stay away from deer.

  Then one day someone went around sticking pamphlets about Lyme disease under everyone’s front door. Ira saw the pamphlet first. He read it carefully. It listed the symptoms of Lyme disease and told about the ticks that carry it. The ticks, the leaflet said, could fall onto you from a tree branch. They could get caught on your clothes as you passed by a bush. They were all over the island.