Page 3 of The Girls Get Even


  “Hey, girls!” came a yell from down on the riverbank. “You going to stay there and get wet?”

  “Why don’t you find your way home?”

  “Are your sleeping bags soggy?”

  Caroline could hear her teeth chattering. Or maybe it was Eddie’s or Beth’s. For a while none of them moved. None of them spoke. The rain drummed on the poncho over their heads, and Caroline was sure that by morning it would have driven them all mad. None of them spoke; they were too disgusted and angry.

  And then, after a long while, Eddie murmured, “Wait till Halloween!” And she said it with conviction.

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Four

  •

  Spy

  All the way home from Smuggler’s Cove, Wally worried.

  First, he worried that the girls might not have found their way home. When he and his brothers went looking for them the next morning, all they had found was a sock.

  Second, he worried that if they did make it home all right, Caroline and her sisters really might win first prize in the Halloween parade, and he and his brothers would have to do the girls’ work for a month. He tried to imagine going over to the Malloys’ house for four Saturdays asking Caroline what needed doing. Imagined her telling him to make her bed and wash her clothes. Maybe even clean the toilets¡

  Josh must have been thinking the same thing. “Jake,” he said as they turned up the alley behind their house, ‘ ‘maybe we should pull out of that bargain with the Malloys. What if we don’t win?”

  “We will!” Jake said. “Don’t even talk about not winning¡ What we Ve got to do now is think up the best costumes we’ve ever had.”

  Wally wondered what it would be like to live on Mars. He imagined that he might see a note on the school bulletin board Monday that said, Wanted: Boys to live on Mars for one month. Girls need not apply. He would go. He would be first in line. He would come back to earth just as the horrible month of being slaves to the Malloys was up.

  He tried to think of a costume to end all costumes. He remembered how the Hatfords and Ben-sons had once painted black stripes on their white T-shirts, chained themselves together, and walked in the parade as a chain gang. Another time they had all worn cardboard fronts and backs, painted black with white dots, and entered the contest as a set of dominoes. They had even been a fly swatter and bugs. Wally didn’t see how the girls could ever come up with something better than that. They might, though. The only thing the boys could think of to do this Halloween was to go as “punkin’ heads,” with pumpkins cut out at the bottom so that Wally and his brothers could slip their heads up inside from underneath.

  “What we need to do,” he said, almost to himself, “is spy on the girls and see what they’re going to be. Just in case.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” said Josh, busily making a sketch of Caroline in the poncho, almost being tossed into the river. Josh took a sketchpad wherever he went. “One of us has to be a mole.”

  “A mole?” asked Wally.

  “A spy from the inside out,” said Jake, and they all turned toward Peter.

  “What’s the matter?” Peter asked warily. “Why are you looking at me?”

  “How would you like to be a mole?” said Jake.

  “The most important job you’ve ever had,” added Josh.

  “And if you goof up, we’re dead meat,” said Wally. He heard Peter swallow.

  •

  At school the next day there was not a notice on the bulletin board requesting boys to go to Mars. There was a sign-up sheet outside the principal’s office for entering the Halloween contest. Some students wanted to be in the parade just for the fun of dressing up, but others wanted to be judged on their costumes. If you wanted to be judged, you were supposed to put your name on the sign-up sheet and say whether you were coming as a group or as an individual.

  Jake saw the sign-up sheet first, and right there at the top, under group entry, he wrote: The Hatfords: Jake, Josh, Wally, and Peter.

  By lunchtime there was another entry on the sheet under “group” : The Malloys—Eddie, Beth, and Caroline.

  It was official. This time Wally swallowed.

  ‘‘Think!” said Jake when the boys got home. “What excuse can we think of to send Peter over there to look around?”

  “Maybe he could ask Caroline about your homework assignment, Wally,” said Josh.

  “Are you nuts?” said Wally. “She’s the last person I’d ask, and she knows it.”

  “Peter could ask to borrow a cup of sugar,” said Jake.

  Josh wrinkled his nose. “That’s about the phoniest excuse there is.”

  Everybody looked at Wally.

  “He could return Caroline’s sock,” Wally said.

  “Bingo!” said Jake and Josh together.

  They sat Peter on the kitchen table, gave him half a Hershey bar that Jake had been carrying around in his pocket, and went over his instructions.

  “Here’s what you do,” said Jake. “You go up to the Malloys’ front door and ask for Caroline. When she comes to the door, give her the sock and tell her you were worried about whether she got home okay.”

  “I was?” asked Peter.

  “Well … sure. I mean, we were all wondering … uh … sort of … whether the girls got home all right in the rain,” said Jake. “We didn’t want them to get wet, did we?”

  “You were ready to throw her in the riverì” Peter said.

  “Oh, not really. Just trying to scare her a little,” Josh told him.

  “She’ll probably make some nasty remark, but just ignore her. Keep saying you were worried, and here’s her sock, and then ask if they could give you any ideas of what you could be in the Halloween parade,” Jake told him.

  “No, I’ve got it!” said Josh. “Tell them we won’t let you be in the parade with us, and you want to be in the parade with them. They probably won’t let you, but if you pay attention, they’ll probably give some clue about what their costume is going to be.”

  Peter’s face clouded up and Wally began to feel very uncomfortable.

  “But I can be in the parade with you, can’t I?”

  “Sure, but you’re just saying that so—”

  “Then it’s a lie,” Peter said flatly.

  “No, it’s not, Peter, because right now I’m telling you that you can’t be in the parade with us, but after you come back from the Malloys, I’ll tell you that you can.”

  “But—”

  “Just do it, Peter¡ Just take Caroline’s sock and see what you can find out.”

  “I always have to do everything!” Peter grumbled, yanking the sock out of Jake’s hand, sliding off the table, and banging out the door.

  Jake and Josh and Wally looked at each other.

  “What do you bet he doesn’t do it?” said Jake.

  “He’ll probably just drop the sock in the river and say he couldn’t find out anything,” said Josh.

  “I’m going to follow along behind him just in case,” Wally said, moving over to the window. He waited until Peter had got as far as the swinging bridge, then slipped out the door himself.

  Since the Malloys had gome to Buckman, nothing was the same, Wally thought, hands in his jacket pockets. He and his brothers couldn’t even enjoy Halloween without worrying what the girls would wear in the parade. Just when he thought maybe they could forget the girls for a change, he had to worry what it would be like to lose the contest to Eddie, Beth, and Caroline and have them boss him around for a whole month. That was about the stupidest bargain Jake had ever made. It was dumber than dumb.

  Up ahead, Peter was in no particular hurry to get to the Malloys’. He was placing the heel of one foot against the toe of the other, and he must have been counting with every step, because every so often he slapped the sock against the cable handrail and said, “Ten!” More steps. “Twenty¡ …”

  Wally waited until his younger brother was across the bridge and had
disappeared behind the trees on the other side before he went across himself. He quickened his steps as he reached the end because he wanted to make sure he was there in the bushes when Peter knocked on the door.

  When Wally stepped off the end of the bridge, however, he paused, with one foot in the air, because Peter was not five yards away from him, stooping to fill Caroline’s sock with stones.

  Wally let out his breath. At this rate Peter would reach the Malloy house about midnight¡ He started to say something, then realized Peter probably wouldn’t go up to the house at all if he knew Wally was watching, so he stood motionless, waiting, until Peter stood up and trudged on again, holding the bulging sock in one hand and whirling it around and around above his head.

  When he came to the picket fence next to the Malloys’, Peter dragged the sock along it … whumpity, whumpity, whump … and began singing at the same time: “This old man, he played one, he played knickknack on my thumb …” And when he reached the end of the Malloys’ driveway, Peter stopped and sang the next verse of the song holding his nose: “This old man, he played two, he played knickknack on my shoe …” When that was done, he pulled his bottom lip out away from his teeth and sang the third verse like that.

  Wally didn’t think he could stand it. He wondered if he should go grab the sock and try to find out something from Caroline himself, but he knew it would never work. Caroline would never, ever give him even the slightest clue about what the girls were going to be on Halloween. There was nothing to be done but wait it out.

  At long last Peter sighed, straightened, dumped the stones out of the sock, and finally went up the driveway to the Malloys’ front porch.

  Wally crept along in the bushes by the side of the driveway, and finally made it up to the garage. He peeked around the corner.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  At first it didn’t seem as though anyone was home. No one came to the door, and Peter even went over to a window and peeped in. He turned and started back down the steps. Wally wanted to yell, Not yet¡ Try again¡ when the door behind Peter opened.

  “What do you want?”

  Crazy Caroline herself¡

  “Uh … I—I …” Peter stammered.

  “Well?”

  Peter held out the sock. “I was worried about you,” he said.

  Good job¡ Wally thought. Nice going, Peter¡

  The irritation on Caroline’s face gave way to surprise. “Why?”

  “If you got home okay.”

  “Why were you worried about me when you were trying to throw me in the river? You weren’t very worried then.”

  “I wasn’t trying to throw you in the river. I was asleep in the tent,” Peter told her.

  Caroline’s face softened immediately, and Wally wondered whether girls always felt motherly toward smaller children. Sisterly, anyway.

  “Well, maybe you were in the tent. I couldn’t see.”

  “All that was left of you was this sock,” Peter went on in a small voice. Wally decided that if their family ever became poor, they could send Peter out to beg on street corners, because he obviously could wring your heart.

  “Who is it, Caroline?” came a voice from inside.

  “Peter Hatford. He found my sock.”

  “What?” Eddie stuck her head out the door, then came out on the porch, followed by Beth.

  “He says he was worried about me. He was in the tent when his goon brothers tried to throw me in the river.”

  “They weren’t really,” Peter said. “They were only fooling.”

  “Now you tell me,” said Caroline.

  “But I was worried you might not find your way home in the rain,” Peter plowed on.

  Eddie studied him quizzically. “My, aren’t we concerned all of a sudden,” she said.

  “I’m sure Josh and Jake and Wally were awake all night worrying about us,” said Beth. “Nobody came over and offered to let us share your tent, though. If you ask me, Peter, I think you’ve got three baboons for brothers.”

  Wally strained to hear what they were saying next, but from where he stood behind the garage, he didn’t think they were saying anything at all. Looking around the corner, it seemed to Wally as though the girls were whispering among themselves.

  And suddenly he heard Eddie saying, “It was really nice of you to bring back Caroline’s sock, Peter. You want to come in for some peanut butter cookies?”

  No, Peter, no¡ Wally thought desperately. It’s a trap¡ Don’t do it¡ Don’t go¡

  But even as he thought it, he saw Peter’s head bob up and down, and a moment later Peter disappeared into the Malloys’ house, followed by Eddie, Beth, and Caroline, all three of them grinning.

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Five

  •

  A little Chat with Peter

  It was the chance of a lifetime, and Caroline and her sisters knew it. Mother was at the dentist’s, and they had Peter all to themselves. He was as gullible as a dry sponge; he’d soak up whatever they told him, but one squeeze, and he’d probably leak out all the Hatfords’ secrets.

  Beth and Eddie were thinking the same thing, because Peter had scarcely sat down at the kitchen table before there was an orange soda and a plate of cookies in front of him, with a little package of M&M’s on the side.

  “Tell me, Peter,” said Eddie, “do your brothers always act like goons, or is it just around us?”

  “Well, sometimes … I mean …” Peter seemed to be thinking it over, his mouth full of cookies. “Well, most of the time they’re … Well, you know what? They won’t even let me be in the Halloween parade with them, and I wanted to know if I could be in it with you.”

  Caroline knew a trap when she heard it. She could see it, smell it, and so could Beth and Eddie. The three girls exchanged looks. Actually, they had just that morning discussed the matter of a group costume, and decided to go as a centipede—three legs and three arms sticking out one side, three legs and three arms sticking out the other. Four arms and four legs would be even better, but how did they know Peter was telling the truth?

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Beth. “We were planning to go as gypsies. Isn’t that right, Eddie? I’m not sure you’d make such a good gypsy, Peter.”

  ‘Oh, yeah. Gypsies. Right!” said Caroline. “Sure you want to dress up in bracelets and stuff, Peter?”

  “Huh-uh,” said Peter, and took a long drink of orange soda.

  Caroline sat down on one side of him. “Why won’t your brothers let you be in the parade with them?”

  “I don’t know,” Peter told her, and opened the package of M&M’s.

  Beth sat down on the other side. “I would think that four boys would have a better chance of winning the prize than three.”

  No answer.

  Eddie tried next. “It’s easy to think up a costume if you’re a boy. All boys have to do is put on old clothes and be bums or something. They hardly have to do any work.”

  “Uh-w/z!” said Peter. “We’ve got to cut holes in the bottoms of pumpkins for our heads to go through and—” He stopped, looking suddenly confused. Caroline and Eddie exchanged triumphant glances.

  “Oh, I forgot!” cried Peter. “That was last year¡ Yeah, that’s what we were last year. Punkin’ heads. This year we’re going as pirates. Yeah, pirates¡ I forgot!”

  “Sure, Peter. Right. Pirates are a swell costume. I’ll bet that’ll win first prize,” smiled Beth.

  Looking much relieved, Peter grinned back and took another long drink of soda.

  He was so cute that Caroline almost wished he were her little brother. At the same time it seemed foolish not to get all the information out of him that they could.

  “Peter,” she said, trying to sound as motherly as possible—if she were to become an actress, she would undoubtedly be asked, at some time in her life, to play the part of a mother—” tell me something; why do your brothers hate us?”

  “They don’t hate you,” said
Peter uncertainly. “They just don’t like you very much.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel so much better!” said Beth.

  “I mean, well, they like you, sort of, but … you’re not boys!”

  “How stupid of us!” said Eddie. “We’re so sorry.”

  Peter plowed on. “It’s just that we liked the Bensons better.”

  “Can we help it if the Bensons moved away?” Caroline asked. “Why take it out on us?”

  Peter thought that one over too. “Well … see … if you go back to Ohio, and the Bensons can’t find anybody to rent their house to, then maybe they’ll come back.”

  “I get it,” said Caroline. “Your baboon brothers think that if they make us miserable enough, we’ll leave.”

  Peter nodded. “But / don’t want you to be miserable.”

  “Of course not,” said Eddie.

  “You just want us to leave too,” said Beth.

  Peter reached for another cookie. “Well, not exactly, because … Wally doesn’t want you to leave either.”

  Caroline was genuinely surprised. “He doesn’t!”

  “No. I mean, not yet. He said he wants you to stay in Buckman until we Ve done all the things we wanted to do to you and then … I mean … well …”

  ‘Oh, we understand perfectly,” said Beth.

  Caroline sighed dramatically. “I guess we just can’t win. No matter what we do, the boys will always get the best of us.”

  “Right,” said Beth. “Pirates will always win a costume contest before gypsies. But I can’t think of anything else to be, can you, Caroline?”

  As Beth put the cookies back in the pantry, however, Caroline followed her in.

  “Listen, Beth, are you sure we shouldn’t try to get Peter to be in our costume with us? Four arms and legs would make an even better centipede, and he could be the tail.”

  “No. He’ll give it away. Somehow he’d leak it to the others.”

  “Yes, but think how great it would be if we win first place and Peter was on our side¡ Like we’d recruited him right out from under their noses.”