“I told you to cut that out!” I shouted. “And I want to know which one of your wrote that my body is abnormal! My body is as normal as any of yours. Even more normal because I don’t have to hide in any closet when I get undressed. And who says I have ugly feet? Your feet are just as ugly!”

  “I wrote about your feet,” Sondra said. “Because your big toes are funny-looking. I think there’s something wrong with them!”

  “How dare you say that about my feet!” I yelled. “You big, fat crybaby!”

  “I’m going home,” Sondra bawled. “I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.”

  “That’s right,” Jane told her. “Go running home to Mama. Just like always.” She tossed a model boat at Sondra.

  “I could tell plenty about you if I felt like it,” Sondra said, throwing the model back at Jane.

  “You just try it and I’ll get you!” Jane yelled, as she flung another model.

  This time Sondra picked it up and sent it flying across the room at Jane. And Mouse picked one up and did the same thing. I got so mad I yelled, “You’re ruining my party!” And I threw one of Bobby’s models at Jane.

  Pretty soon we were all throwing the models at each other and we were all screaming and half-crying too, because of the terrible things we wrote about each other, even though some of them were true.

  That’s when Libby opened the door and said, “What is going on in here?”

  I shouted, “Get out and mind your own business!”

  Jane threw a model at Libby and Libby had to duck so it wouldn’t hit her in the head. Instead it hit Maryann, who was standing right behind Libby. She hollered, “You little brats! You little baby brats! You’re too young for a slumber party!”

  “I said get out of my room now!”

  “I am going to tell Mother and Father about this, Sheila.”

  “Blah blah blah,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Mouse told them, “blah blah blah!”

  Then Mouse looked at me and we started to laugh. And when we did Jane did too. After a minute even Sondra joined us. We all laughed at Libby and Maryann as we shouted, “Blah blah blah blah blah!”

  Libby called us “baby brats” one more time before she slammed our door shut. Then I flopped down on my bed and looked around at my room. Bobby’s models were all over the place. “He’s going to get me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mouse said.

  “He said he would and he means it. I know he means it!”

  “So what? Who cares about the old model maniac?” Mouse asked.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” I told her. “You’re not the one he’s going to get. There’s only one thing to do.”

  “What’s that?” Sondra asked.

  “We have to fix up every single model.”

  “But how can we?” Sondra said. “One of them broke right in half.”

  “That one we can throw in the garbage. But the rest of them we have to repair.” I went to the desk and opened the drawer. I took out two tubes of Testor’s glue and a box of model paints. I divided the models into three piles. “It won’t take long to fix them up,” I said.

  An hour later we were still sitting on the floor gluing and painting when my mother knocked on my door and called, “Snack time.”

  I whispered, “Quick . . . hide the stuff,” as I ran across my room to open the door for Mom. She was carrying a big tray of pizza.

  “Ummm . . . that smells delicious,” Sondra said.

  “It’s nice and hot,” Mom told us. She set it down on the desk. Then she wriggled her nose and looked around. “Something smells funny in here, girls.”

  “It does?” I asked.

  “Yes, like glue or something.”

  “Oh, that’s just my toothpaste, Mrs. Tubman,” Mouse said.

  “What kind of toothpaste smells like that?” Mom asked.

  “This new kind that prevents cavities,” Mouse told her.

  “I hope it tastes better than it smells,” Mom said.

  “Mother . . . Mother . . . is that you?” Libby called.

  “Yes,” Mom said, “we have plenty of pizza.”

  Libby came rushing into my room with Maryann right behind her. “Mother, Sheila and her friends were just awful while you were gone. They were yelling and screaming and throwing around all the models from the top of the dresser.”

  Mom stood in my doorway and said, “Sheila, what’s this all about?”

  “I told you she’d ruin my party,” I said. “She just has to butt in on everything!”

  Mom looked over at my dresser. “Where are all of Bobby’s models?”

  “Under the bed, Mrs. Tubman,” Mouse said. “We wanted to make sure nothing would happen to them, so we put them away for the night.”

  “They are impossible children, Mother,” Libby said.

  Mom looked back at us. We all smiled at her. “This is Sheila’s party, Libby. I think you and Maryann should go to your room and let these girls take care of themselves. I know they wouldn’t do anything destructive to another person’s property.”

  “Oh, Mother!” Libby said. “You don’t understand at all!”

  “Good night, Libby. Good night, Maryann,” Mom told them.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said.

  “Have a good time, but don’t stay up too late.”

  When Mom went downstairs we started on the pizza. Sondra ate two pieces and reached for a third, but we all shook our heads at her and she took her hand away and said, “The truth really hurts!” We all agreed.

  After our snack we went back to work on Bobby’s models. We fixed them up pretty good. From far away you’d never know there was anything wrong with them. And besides, didn’t he say he was bringing home a whole bunch of new ones? So he’ll probably never notice that these have been in battle. At least I hope he won’t!

  We spread the models out to dry and put away the glue and paints. “I’m getting tired,” Sondra said.

  “We can’t go to bed yet,” Mouse told her. “We still have some unfinished business to take care of.”

  “What?” Sondra said.

  I looked at Mouse because I knew what she was thinking. “We have to get even with Libby and Maryann for telling on us.”

  “Goody!” Jane said. “They deserve the worst!”

  “But what’s the worst?” Sondra asked.

  “We should put frogs in their beds,” Mouse said.

  “Where are we supposed to get frogs?” Jane asked.

  “Behind my house,” Mouse said. “There’s a brook full of them.”

  “Forget it,” I said. “My mother’s not going to let us go running around at this hour.”

  “Then we’ll have to think up something else,” Mouse said. “But it’s got to be really great!”

  “I know,” I said. “We’ll decorate the toilet seat with toothpaste and the first one of them to sit down will get full of it . . . you know where!”

  “Hey, that’s a neat idea, Sheila,” Mouse said. “How’d you think that up?”

  “When your brain knows it all it’s easy!” I told her. I could tell from Mouse’s expression that she was the one who wrote that about me. But I didn’t care, because she also wrote that I am an interesting person and I like that idea a lot. Even Sondra and Jane wrote that in general I am okay. And that’s what counts. So what if they think I’m bossy sometimes? It’s only because I know more than they do. So what if I have weird eyebrows and funny toes? Not that I agree, because I don’t see anything weird about my eyebrows and my toes are just like everybody else’s toes. But to be an interesting person! Well, not everyone can be that. That is something special!

  We all went into the hall bathroom and brushed our teeth and used the toilet. Then I personally covered the
toilet seat with toothpaste. When I was finished the others wanted to add a little to it, so by the time we were done there wasn’t a spot on it without toothpaste.

  We went back to my room and waited. When my bedroom door is open you can hear the water running in the bathroom.

  Pretty soon we heard Libby and Maryann walking down the hall.

  “They’re going to the bathroom now,” Jane said.

  “Shush,” I told her. I think they brushed their teeth first and then it sounded like one of them was gargling. It was hard to keep from laughing because we knew in another minute Libby or Maryann would be sitting down on all that toothpaste.

  But then we heard the toilet flush without a sound from either one.

  “I don’t get it,” Mouse whispered.

  “They probably didn’t go yet,” I whispered back. “Maybe they just flushed a tissue or something.”

  We waited some more and the toilet flushed again. But still no sound from either one of them.

  “Maybe they go standing up,” Mouse said.

  “Why should they?” I asked. “Our toilets are clean.”

  “Maybe they used your mother’s bathroom instead,” Sondra said.

  “No . . . Libby never uses my mother’s bathroom.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Mouse said, peeking out into the hall, “but they’re on their way back to Libby’s room.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I said.

  “It doesn’t make sense at all,” Mouse, Sondra, and Jane agreed.

  I got into bed and the others snuggled into their sleeping bags. “We’ll get them tomorrow,” I said. “They’ll be sorry they told on us!”

  We giggled for a long time before we fell asleep.

  * * *

  The next morning I got up early and looked down at my friends. They were sound asleep. I had to go to the bathroom so I got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall. I forgot about the toothpaste until I sat down on the toilet. It was still sticky. It got all over my backside. I couldn’t even get it off with paper. And it itched too. So I decided to take a shower. But when I turned on the water it came out icy cold and I screamed so loud I woke everyone up.

  Daddy and Mom, Libby and Maryann, Sondra, Jane, and Mouse all came running down the hall.

  I covered myself up with a big towel and told them, “The water was very cold.”

  Mom said, “Sheila, why on earth were you going to take a shower this early in the morning?”

  “To get the toothpaste off me,” I told her.

  As soon as I said that Libby and Maryann started laughing. I stuck my tongue out at them.

  “What toothpaste?” Mom asked.

  Mouse said, “You see, Mrs. Tubman, Sheila had a lot of mosquito bites and my mother always says toothpaste will stop them from itching.”

  “So I spread toothpaste all over me,” I said. “But now I want to wash it off.”

  “Is that your new toothpaste, Mouse?” Mom asked. “The one that smells like glue?”

  “It doesn’t matter what kind of toothpaste you use, Mrs. Tubman,” Mouse said. “Any old kind will do.”

  “I never heard of putting toothpaste on mosquito bites,” Mom said. “Next time I get one I’ll have to try it.”

  * * *

  That night, after my friends went home, Daddy asked, “Did you have a nice party, Sheila?”

  “Oh yes!” I told him. “My slumber party was the best slumber party that ever was. Just like I knew it would be!”

  “That’s good,” Daddy said, slapping the back of his neck. “Whew . . . I’ve got some really bad mosquito bites. Sheila, would you run upstairs and get me the toothpaste?”

  “Don’t bother, Daddy,” I said, starting to laugh. “It really doesn’t help at all!”

  Libby is in love, for a change. This time he is fourteen and he shows the movies at camp. His name is Hank Crane. I wonder if he is related to Ichabod. I asked Libby about that, but all she said was, “Sheila, you are very weird!”

  On rainy days we see old movies at camp. Last week it rained and me and Mouse watched Libby instead of the movie. She sat right up close to Hank and we’re not sure but we think they kissed a couple of times. I would love to tell my mother. But I’m afraid Libby would get me. She might let Jennifer loose or something.

  When it isn’t raining Hank is busy with his video camera. He is making an original film of us at our activities. One day he spent a lot of time at pottery. He asked me to do some silly things, like putting clay on my head while I pretended to be the pottery wheel. Naturally I refused. So he got Russ to do it. I can’t imagine what Hank’s film is going to be like. I have the feeling I will never find out because I don’t think it will ever be finished.

  Libby says that Hank is very talented, which is more important than being good-looking. Even Maryann Markman likes him. I think he is really dumb to pick Libby instead of Maryann.

  * * *

  Next week is our last week of day camp. When it is over Marty says I have to take my swimming test. I know I will drown if he makes me swim across the pool. Then everyone will be sorry they forced me to learn to swim!

  Mouse and the twins don’t bother swimming regular anymore. They are too busy doing handstands and somersaults under the water. I will never be able to do tricks. I think I would be better off just staying far, far away from oceans, lakes, and pools for the rest of my life.

  On Friday night we are going on a hayride. Everyone from camp is invited. We are dividing up into two groups since we can’t all fit into one wagon. Libby is very happy about this because she doesn’t want to be in the same wagon as me. And I know why! She wants to be alone with Hank Crane! Well, I don’t care. Who wants to waste a good hayride looking at Libby? I have never been on a hayride, anyway. Mouse hasn’t either. But she says we will have lots of fun.

  Libby spent all Friday afternoon getting beautiful. She even put on clean jeans and cut her toenails. Mr. Ellis called for us at 8:30 and dropped us off at camp.

  The wagons were already there and kids were piling in. We were supposed to divide up by age. So Libby didn’t have to worry after all. Denise was in charge of our wagon. One thing that surprised me was the horses. I didn’t know they were going to pull our wagon. I thought it would be attached to a car. I am not too crazy about horses. Suppose they jump up in the air and we all fall out of the wagon? Or worse yet—they could go wild and pull us into the woods!

  As I was thinking about whether or not I should really go Mouse said, “Come on, Sheila . . . let’s get a good place up front.”

  “Up front” means near the horses, I found out. “I don’t think this is the best place to sit,” I said. “Let’s get more in the middle.”

  “No . . . No . . .” Mouse said. “You have the best fun up here.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never been on a hayride. You said so yourself!”

  “My mother told me,” Mouse said.

  “Oh. How many hayrides has she been on?”

  “In the olden days, when she was a girl, she went on lots of them.”

  “Oh.”

  The first thing I found out was hay isn’t soft like I thought it would be. It is kind of sharp and it makes some people sneeze. Sam Sweeney started sneezing as soon as he sat down.

  Our hayride began at nine. By then it was dark. Libby’s wagon went first and ours followed. Denise brought along her guitar and we started singing right away. She played her Anne Boleyn song first to get us in the mood. After a while she said she would tell us a ghost story. I don’t like ghost stories, so I decided not to listen. I can do that if I really concentrate, but it isn’t easy. I have to think of other things the whole time the person is talking. I do it in school sometimes if the lesson gets boring. But it’s harder to do on a hayride than in school.

&nbs
p; We turned off the main road onto an old bumpy one. There were no street lights and it was very dark. There wasn’t any moon in the sky and I was glad. Especially that there wasn’t a full moon. Because werewolves only come out when the moon is full. Not that there’s really any such thing as werewolves—I know there isn’t—but still it was better that there was no moon.

  Mouse leaned close and whispered, “This is Old Sleepy Hollow Road . . . the one where Ichabod Crane saw the Headless Horseman.”

  “It is?” I asked.

  “Yes. And see up there . . . that’s the little church with the graveyard behind it. That’s where the Horseman comes from.”

  Denise finished her story. It was very quiet, except for Sam’s sneezes. There were a lot of giggles. I think everybody was a little bit scared.

  I pretended we weren’t on Old Sleepy Hollow Road. I wished I was home in my bed with the covers over my ear. I don’t know why I ever came on this hayride in the first place. As we got closer to the church I heard the noise. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it? There isn’t any such thing as the Headless Horseman. I know that!

  The next time I heard the noise there was a flash in the sky. Oh no! It was thundering. We were going to have a storm! And here I am, out in the open, I thought. Out in a dumb old hay wagon! The lightning will probably scare the horses and they’ll run wild—right into the woods—where the Headless Horseman will be waiting!

  My heart started beating like mad and I was full of sweat. I couldn’t stand it anymore. The only thing to do was bury myself under the hay. Then I’d be safe. Safe from the lightning and the horses running wild and the terrible dark woods and the Horseman.

  “Sheila, what are you doing?” Mouse asked. “Sheila . . . come out of there. Are you crazy or something?” She tried to dig me out of the hay, but I wouldn’t let her. Why should I come out? Let Mouse and the others get struck by lightning. Let them fall out of the wagon when the horses run wild. Let them get lost in the woods with the Headless Horseman!

  “Denise . . .” I heard Mouse call. “Denise, help me. Sheila’s under the hay and she won’t come out.”

  I kicked my legs at her. They weren’t going to get me out. Oh no! I was staying buried until I was home where it was safe.