“Our plane crashed and my knee is so sore I can hardly walk, but the pilot can’t walk at all. He’s dead,” she read to the class.
Then she described the weather in Australia’s outback, and the way she had carried rocks from a riverbank to spell out HELP on a hillside. And as if that weren’t enough, she turned to the blackboard and wrote out a recipe for wombat stew. And then… then she read in closing:
“After a month in the outback with only kangaroos for company, I decided to take my chances on the open sea, in hopes that rescuers would find me there. Making my way to the shoreline, I made a raft of driftwood, packed up my food, brought all the water I could carry and, using my raincoat for a sail, I set off. I finally arrived at the island of Banaba, where I found Wally Hatford, and together we lived out our lives in peace and harmony.”
Smiling smugly, Caroline sat back down.
Everyone began laughing and pointing at Wally. His neck was on fire, he was sure of it. His cheeks and forehead burned. He didn’t wait to be called on. He didn’t even raise his hand. He grabbed his report and stomped to the front of the room.
He told how he had been shipwrecked and made it to the island of Banaba in the Pacific. He told what he had done to survive, and then he said, “One day I looked out and saw a girl sailing toward shore on a homemade raft. I could tell by the way she acted that she was crazy, so before she could reach my camp, I packed up and moved to the other side of the island and I never saw her again. The end.”
Everyone laughed some more, even Miss Applebaum.
“Well, she said, “I guess we have a difference of opinion here. Caroline, maybe you should have quit while you were ahead.” Then she called on another person to give a report, and Wally sank back in his seat, victorious at last. Out the window the sky had never looked so blue, the clouds so white, the sun so bright as on that day when he got even with Caroline Malloy.
That afternoon, no one did any work at all. They held a survivor party, and each person got a small compass along with his or her report card. As a treat, Miss Applebaum cracked open a fresh coconut. Everyone had a piece of coconut meat along with a slice of banana and some fresh blueberries, typical survivor foods. Wally and his friends had fun turning around and around and watching the needles on their compasses spin with them.
Finally, when the last bell rang, everyone spilled out onto the steps and sidewalk like ants from an anthill. Peter was already frolicking about on the grass, singing:
“School’s out! School’s out!
Teacher let the monkeys out!
One jumped in, one jumped out,
One jumped in the teacher’s mouth!"
At last! Wally thought. No more reports. No more school. No more Caroline Malloy sitting behind him.
By six o’clock that evening, Josh had posted signs all over the neighborhood reading, FOUR-DOLLAR CAR WASH, INSIDE AND OUT, and giving the address. And by eight o’clock the next morning, there were already three cars lined up, ready to pull into the Hatfords’ driveway.
“Boys!” Mrs. Hatford said. “I’ve left sandwiches and lemonade in the fridge for all of you, and there are more clean rags on the porch if you need them. Be careful, now. Josh, I want you personally to keep an eye on Peter when cars pull in and out.”
“I will,” Josh promised.
She left for her job at the hardware store, and Mr. Hatford came downstairs in his postal uniform. “Be sure to clean the inside of each windshield and wipe off the dashboard,” he said, coffee cup in hand. Then he left for the post office, and the first car in line came up the drive.
The girls had arrived even before the boys came outside, and now they all pitched in. The day couldn’t have been better—breezy, warm, and dry, and everyone cheered each time a truly dirty car pulled in with mud caked on the spokes of the hubcaps, because these were the most fun to wash. Wally liked turning a filthy car into a spanking-clean one.
The kids took turns walking down to the corner and pointing to the car wash sign as people drove by, motioning them back to the Hatfords’. When Mrs. Corby next door came outside, hands on her hips, to see what those Hatford boys and Malloy girls were up to now, they offered to wash her car for free, and that took the scowl off her face in a hurry.
The money was piling up in a shoe box inside the front door, and Josh had already figured that after they divided it seven ways, they each would have earned the twenty dollars needed to be in the parade. Strawberry festival, here they came!
At about three that afternoon, when there was a lull in business and not a car in sight, Wally was picking up some wet cloths on the driveway beside Beth and Eddie when suddenly, plop! Out of nowhere, it seemed, there was an explosion between him and Eddie, and they were both showered with water. Wally had barely let out a yelp when there was a second explosion right at Caroline’s feet. She gasped and coughed, water dripping from her ears and nose, and when they all looked toward the house, they saw Jake and Josh with the hose and a pile of balloons filled with water.
The war was on—first, to see who could get control of the hose, and second, to reach the supply of water balloons the twins had filled the night before. Howls and cries of revenge filled the air as the girls ran this way, the boys ran that way, and the hose changed hands a dozen times as everyone got royally soaked.
It was hard to see which side Peter was on, because first he helped the girls out, then his brothers.
“Hey, Peter, whose friend are you, anyway?” Josh laughed as Peter inadvertently turned the hose on Wally.
And just as Wally wrested the hose from Peter’s hands, he saw, coming up the driveway, the washing machine, the dryer, and three more boys, each half the size of a refrigerator. They were big boys, tough-looking boys, and they had come to close down the car wash, it said so right on their faces.
“Wally! Peter! Up here!” Jake yelled out the warning, and all the Malloys and Hatfords gathered on the porch. The assembly line had never worked more efficiently. Balloons were filled, tied, and thrown at the enemy, and between throws, the hose soaked each intruder in turn.
Then the intruders got possession of the hose, and water went flying in every direction. It took only minutes before a dozen kids looked as though they had just climbed out of the river, their clothes clinging to their bodies like plastic wrap.
Back and forth the hose went, from one side to the other. The five large boys who had come up the drive took over the Hatfords’ porch now, turning the hose on its rightful owners. Out of the corner of his eye, Wally saw Josh and Jake coming around the house with an emergency supply of water balloons.
Wally’s heart was in his mouth. This would only end badly, he was sure. Even if they won the battle, he and Peter would have to face those bullies by themselves in September when Jake and Josh went off to seventh grade. Those tough appliances would be lying in wait, and someday, sometime, they would probably get Wally and Peter alone and stick their heads down a toilet. Every time a water balloon hit one of the intruders and exploded, Wally could almost feel another thwack on his back or a punch in the belly when the bullies decided to go for him.
At that moment a car turned into the Hatfords’ driveway and a woman tentatively stuck her head out the window. “Is the car wash still doing business?” she asked.
The Malloys looked at the Hatfords and the Hatfords looked at the bullies, who turned the hose sideways on the bushes. In the sudden lull, Eddie sneaked over and turned off the outside faucet. The hose went dry.
“Sure,” Josh called to the woman. He looked at his soaked companions. Then he looked at the boy with the hose. “Well,” he said, “it doesn’t look like you guys could get any wetter. We’ve already made enough money to be in the parade. Do you want to do the next cars?”
The washing machine, the dryer, and the three refrigerators looked at each other. They looked as if they would like to drag the Hatfords down the hill to the river and throw them in.
“You can use our hose and our rags,” added Wally help
fully.
“Business or war. You have to choose one or the other,” said Jake.
The washing machine pondered it a little more.
“Well, I guess we can do the car,” he said finally. Eddie turned the water back on, and for a moment the boy seemed to be debating whether to use it on the car or on Jake. But at last he nodded toward his friends and they began to wash the car.
The Hatfords and Malloys watched from the sidelines, and when another car pulled in, the intruders motioned where it should park and turned the hose on it.
Wally took a deep breath and sat down on the porch steps with his brothers, peace restored to the kingdom at last.
Seventeen
Strawberry Shortcake
It was the first week of summer vacation, and time to return the collection cans to the bank in preparation for Saturday’s festival. As the kids lined up, they were given cards to fill out stating whether they would prefer all the strawberry treats they could eat or a place in the parade, and just where in the parade they would most like to be.
All I have ever wanted in this life, in the whole world, is to ride on the float with the Strawberry Queen of Buck-man, Caroline wrote on her card.
This was not quite true, of course, because what Caroline wanted most in the world was to be an actress on Broadway. In fact, it wasn’t the least little bit true because she hadn’t even heard of the Strawberry Festival, the parade, or the queen until they’d moved to West Virginia.
But with Eddie involved in summer baseball and Beth helping out at the library and the Hatford boys busily planning for the Bensons’ return, Caroline felt she would shrink up and die if she was not allowed to ride beside the Strawberry Queen on Saturday and wave delicately to the crowd. She might shrivel up anyway, she thought, for the breeze that had made the car wash day so delightful seemed to have deserted them entirely, and the air grew warmer still. Those who had hoped it would not rain on their parade now almost began to hope that it would, just to cool things off.
When Caroline got a last-minute call from a woman who wanted her to take over at a birthday party because the clown she had hired got sick, Caroline realized that her notice was still up on the bulletin board.
“Oh, Mother, no!” she cried when Mrs. Malloy gave her the message. She did not want to perform for any more rude, thankless children. She did not want to be pushed into an imaginary oven or try to be heard onstage with a lawn mower going next door.
“Caroline, you said you were available for parties, and until that notice comes down, that’s your job,” her mother said. “The woman who called is a friend of one of the professors at the college, and she seemed desperate to find some entertainment for the party.”
So Caroline called the woman back to find out what fairy tale she wanted. This time the request was for “Goldilocks and the Three Bears,” and the guests at the party would be four-year-olds. Caroline managed to find a cap with bear ears on it, and furry mittens for paws. And though the four-year-olds romped about on the floor and tried to take her cap off, they were more attentive than the six-year-olds had been. If Caroline had been wearing a tail, she would have wagged it when she was through, she was so happy the performance went well.
Thursday, the three Malloy girls received postcards in the mail giving them the name and number of the float each of them would be on.
“Hey! I get to ride with the women’s basketball team from the college!” Eddie yelped delightedly. “All right !"
Beth got to be a bookworm on the library’s float.
Caroline was so eager to read her card that she fumbled and dropped it, but then she saw the number two, and beside it the treasured words Strawberry Queen Float. She shrieked with happiness.
Eddie took the card away from her to be sure she wasn’t faking it. “Look what else it says, Caroline,” she said, pointing to a note at the bottom: Please wear a bathing suit.
“What?” cried Caroline. She was going to be a bathing beauty as well?
“Don’t wear a bikini, Caroline,” Eddie said, glancing at her sister’s midsection. “Please don’t wear a bikini.”
“This,” said Caroline dramatically, “is beyond my wildest dreams.”
“Well, if you’re going to be standing on a float wearing a bathing suit, we’d better buy you a new one,” Mrs. Malloy said. “The yellow suit you wore last summer was a little too snug even then.”
So off they went, and Caroline and her mother returned an hour later with a one-piece suit—a red one with pink polka dots and a narrow pink ruffle around the neckline.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Caroline gushed. “I chose it myself.”
“You look like a cupcake,” Beth muttered.
“At least it’s a strawberry cupcake!” Caroline retorted.
“Strawberry shortcake, that’s you,” said Eddie.
The day of the parade arrived at last, and Caroline was so excited she could barely contain herself. Her mother had also bought her a wide-brimmed hat so that she wouldn’t get sunburned, and a pair of sunglasses as well.
Eddie was wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and a baseball cap, and Beth had been told that all the bookworms on her float would be given headdresses to wear, with feelers and big goggle eyes.
Unfortunately, the day was not just warm, it was hot—as hot as anyone could remember it being in Buckman in June. When Caroline looked out the window that morning, not a leaf stirred. Not a blade of grass moved. Everything seemed to sizzle under the gaze of the silent sun.
All the kids who were to be part of the parade were to meet at the Buckman High School parking lot, where the floats were lining up. Mr. and Mrs. Malloy dropped off their three daughters, then drove back downtown to park and find a shady spot where they could watch the action.
“See you!” Eddie said to the others as she set off to find her float.
“Have fun!” Beth said to Caroline as she headed for hers.
Caroline, in her new bathing suit, walked toward the front of the lineup, looking for float number two, and there it was, a beautiful float decorated with artificial strawberries and roses. The Strawberry Queen herself, a redheaded college girl wearing a pink puffy dress and a crown of strawberries, stood in the shade of a tree off to one side, where her mother fanned her.
Her throne, a red padded chair, had a sheet stretched over the top of it temporarily as a canopy to keep the seat cool until the parade began.
To Caroline’s disappointment, two younger girls from Buckman Elementary also showed up in bathing suits, each of them carrying a card that read ?oat number two.
Oh, well, thought Caroline, looking them over. She herself was probably the prettiest of the three, and at least her bathing suit was the color of strawberries, not green or purple like the two younger girls’.
But queens, she knew, were supposed to be generous. They were supposed to be nice to everybody whether they felt like it or not, so she smiled at the girls and said wasn’t it hot and wasn’t the Strawberry Queen beautiful and weren’t they all lucky to get to be on the float along with her?
But all the while, Caroline’s eyes were on the Strawberry Queen. Maybe Caroline would stand to the right of her in her bathing suit and help adjust her crown if it slipped. Maybe Caroline would stand to the left of her and refill the little basket of strawberry candies the queen was supposed to toss to the crowd. Or perhaps Caroline, in her pink and red polka-dot bathing suit, would sit at the feet of the Strawberry Queen to keep her skirt from blowing in the breeze. If there was a breeze.
There was not even the slightest hint of a breeze. Already Caroline could feel a trickle of sweat roll down her back between her shoulder blades.
A gray-haired woman in red shorts with an official badge pinned to her T-shirt came hurrying up.
“Ah! My helpers have arrived!” she said, smiling at Caroline and the two younger girls. “The parade is about to start, so we’re going to get you up on the float. As soon as the Strawberry Queen gets on and settled, we’ll go.” She
hustled them over to the movable wooden steps leading to the float.
The girls grinned excitedly at each other and followed the parade official up the steps and onto the flatbed truck carrying the queen’s chair, a bower of strawberries and roses overhead.
Caroline started toward the chair, but the parade official clasped her arm and said, “Follow me.”
Caroline’s heart fell as they went to the back of the float instead. There, she saw three giant-size velveteen strawberries.
The official smiled at the smallest girl. “You first,” she said, and held open a slit in the back of one of the strawberries.
In dismay, Caroline watched as the youngest girl climbed uncertainly into the huge strawberry.
“Stick your head out the hole in the top,” the woman instructed her, “and your arms out the holes on either side.”
A small blond head popped up where the stem of the strawberry would be, followed by two small arms through the holes on either side.
“Perfect!” said the official. “Now, remember to smile and wave at the crowd. Next!"
As she watched the second girl climb into the next strawberry, Caroline could not believe this was happening. This was it? This was what Caroline Lenore Malloy had waited for all this time? She had washed all those cars and endured that terrible birthday party just so she could be a stupid strawberry, sweltering up here on a ninety-degree day?
When her turn came, she stepped numbly into the hot velveteen strawberry. She thrust her head through the hole at the top, where the scratchy green leaves chafed her neck. The right arm through the right hole, left arm through the left, and there she was, like a pilgrim put in the stocks. She turned her head to the left and the leaves scratched her cheek. She turned to the right and the leaves scratched her ear.
Help! thought Caroline as the parade official disappeared, the band began to play, and slowly, with a fire engine in front, the parade began moving toward Main Street.