The Girls Get Even

  “Better to keep him as spy and not even let on that he is. No telling when we’ll need him again,” said Beth.

  They went back in the kitchen where Peter was finishing his drink, and when he put his glass down he had a wide orange mustache above his upper lip

  “Thanks for bringing back my sock, Peter. Come over anytime,” Caroline told him.

  “Okay,” Peter said, and after he went outside, he shuffled down the driveway, stopping to pick up an acorn, then another and another, filling his pockets with them, and skipping on.

  “Too bad he’s a Hatford,” said Beth, watching.

  But Eddie disagreed. “It’s great he’s a Hatford. Don’t you realize what a coup this is¡ A spy in their own camp¡ I’m sure those guys are going as pun-kin’ heads. They sent Peter over here to make us believe they were going as pirates, and he let the cat out of the bag. This is more fun than I thought.”

  “You know what’s going to happen, though, don’t you? They’ll win!” said Beth. “Four guys with pumpkins on their heads will win over a centipede any day.”

  A glum silence settled down over the room.

  “Then there’s only one thing to do,” said Eddie. “We’ve got to go over there before the parade and smash those pumpkins to bits.”

  “Eddie!”

  Both Caroline and Beth looked shocked.

  “That’s playing dirty,” said Beth.

  “And they weren’t? Sending Peter over here to try and find out what we were going to be on Halloween? And Peter’s story about their being pirates? That was the lowest thing they could do.”

  “Still …”

  “Still nothing¡ I’ll smash their pumpkins myself.”

  “What if they keep the pumpkins in their house?”

  “I doubt it. Once you carve a pumpkin it starts to stink if you keep it inside.”

  “We’d better make that centipede costume extra good just in case,” said Caroline.

  In a way, Caroline wished that they were going as something other than a bug. A centipede was okay, but she wished it could be something a bit more dramatic. An aspiring actress, she knew, was constantly on the lookout for life experiences that enabled her to practice a role, and she did not know of any plays or movies that would require her to play the part of a centipede. Still, if she were the head of the centipede instead of the tail …

  “Could I be the head?” she asked her sisters. “I mean, maybe we could tell a little story. Maybe the head of the centipede always wants to go one way but the tail wants to go another. Or maybe the head of the centipede could be crying, and—”

  Eddie sighed. “Caroline, for gosh sake, do you have to turn everything into a catastrophe? Can’t you just be a bug for once and—”

  “Well, maybe she has a point/’ said Beth. “It’s got to be a pretty unusual centipede to win first prize.”

  Back in Ohio their school did not have contests. There was a Halloween party every year, but no parade around the business district, and no prizes for best costume. Caroline had dreaded moving to West Virginia because she thought it would be all mountains and cabins and coal mines, and here was a town with a college and a river and a swinging bridge and, best of all, an elementary school with an auditorium and stage.

  An auditorium with a stage and a thick velvet curtain—gold on one side, maroon on the other. Caroline knew, she was utterly convinced, that someday she would perform on that stage, and it wouldn’t be as a centipede either.

  The door opened and Mother came in. She looked the same, but sounded different. And when she poured a glass of water and tried to drink, water trickled out one side of her mouth.

  “Novocaine,” she said, with a laugh. “I can’t feel a thing.” She looked around the kitchen at the empty glass and the cookie crumbs on a plate. “Looks like you’ve had a party.”

  “A little welcoming party,” said Beth dryly.

  “For whom?”

  ‘‘Peter Hatford was by to pay us a visit,” said Caroline.

  ‘One of the Hatford boys? How nice¡ You know, I think our two families got off on the wrong foot somehow/’ Mother told them. ‘One of these days I’m going to bake them a pie to thank those boys for washing our windows. I think that would be a friendly gesture, don’t you?”

  Caroline, Beth, and Eddie exchanged looks.

  “Maybe,” said Caroline. “Maybe not.”

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Six

  •

  Birds of Prey

  Peter had just stepped off the end of the bridge when three sets of hands grabbed him and he let out a squeal.

  “What happened?” asked Wally. “What happened after you got inside?”

  Peter licked at the rim of orange soda around his mouth. “We had a party,” he said grandly, and kept walking.

  Jake and Josh moaned.

  “What happened?” Wally asked again.

  “Well,” said Peter, crossing the road, the boys keeping step beside him, “first we sat down in the kitchen, and Eddie poured me some orange soda, and then Beth got out the cookies, and—”

  “Never mind the food, Peter, what happened?” Wally was beside himself.

  “Let me tell it, Wally¡ And then Caroline gave me some M&M’s and—”

  “Those were bribes, Peter. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “They were good !” Peter went up on the porch. “And then Caroline asked why we hated them.”

  “She did? Caroline thinks we hate them?”

  “And I said we didn’t hate them, we just wanted them to stay long enough for us to do all the stuff we wanted to do to them and—”

  Jake sank down on the steps. “We’re dead,” he said.

  “We should never have let Peter go by himself,” agreed Josh.

  “Peter,” said Wally, trying his best to be patient, “tell me the truth. Did you tell them we were going to be punkin’ heads in the parade?”

  “No¡ I told them that’s what we were last year.”

  Jake and Josh groaned again.

  “I told them that this year we were going to be pirates.”

  “But did you find out what they are going to be?” Wally asked.

  This time Peter actually beamed. “I found out a secret!”

  “What?” cried his three brothers at once.

  “Well, they said they were going to be gypsies in the parade.”

  “Gypsies? They told you that?”

  ‘‘That’s what they said, but when Caroline and Beth went in the pantry, I heard them talking, and Caroline said they were going to be …” Peter’s face blanched suddenly. “I—I forgot!”

  This time Jake dramatically tumbled down the steps and lay stretched out on the sidewalk below. “I can’t stand it.”

  Wally grabbed Peter by the shoulders. ‘‘Peter, a whole month depends on this—who’s going to be boss, them or us.”

  “Um …” said Peter thoughtfully.

  “What letter did it begin with? Can you even remember that?” pleaded Jake.

  “S,” said Peter.

  “Scarecrows?” guessed Jake.

  “No.”

  “A salad bowl—carrots and onions and stuff?” guessed Wally.

  “Not something to eat.” Peter frowned.

  “Sheep?” asked Jake. “Sheep and shepherd?”

  “No. Not an animal.”

  Wally was desperate. He would rather jump off the bridge than be the Malloys’ slave for a month. He tried to think of everything he knew that began with an s: “Soap, sewing basket, spit, sandwich, shoes, stockings, snakes, soccer, slugs, slime …”

  Peter’s face lit up suddenly: “I know¡ It crawls!”

  “Okay,” Jake said excitedly. ‘‘We’re getting close. It crawls, but it’s not an animal.”

  “No. It’s a—a bug. I think.”

  “Spider!” shouted Wally.

  “No … it’s got a lot of legs,” Peter told them.

  “A centipede?”
Wally asked.

  “Yes¡ That’s it¡ A centipede!” Peter cried delightedly.

  “That begins with a c, dope,” said Jake.

  “Never mind, we got it¡ A centipede, huh?” said Josh. “Oh, boy, how are we going to top that?”

  “Think, Wally!” Jake said, as he always did when they needed an idea. “What could top a centipede? You know how the principal’s always saying we should act the part—witches should act spooky and scarecrows should walk stiff-legged and soldiers should march and everything? What could mess up a centipede just by acting its part?”

  Everyone looked at Wally.

  “A giant boot,” said Wally.

  It was a good idea except that no one knew how four boys could be a giant boot, and even if they were, how could it come down on top of the girls, and even if it did, what was the good of that when they’d be expelled from the parade, not to mention school?

  “Think some more,” said Jake.

  “A fly swatter,” said Wally.

  That had the same problems as a giant boot.

  Wally tried to put his mind in the Destructo Mode. Stamp, swat, squash, smash, swallow …

  Swallow¡

  “What eats insects?” he said aloud. “Birds. We could be birds.”

  “Birds?” asked Jake, not at all sure. “Who wants to be in a Halloween parade dressed as sparrows or something?”

  “Not sparrows,” said Wally, and suddenly he began to smile. “What about some big, horrible repulsive bird? What about vultures?”

  “That’s it!” cried Jake. “We’re a flock of vultures¡ And right in the middle of the parade we’ll descend on the centipede and tear its skin off.”

  Peter looked alarmed.

  “Oh, we’re not going to hurt anyone,” said Jake. “All we’ll do is play the part of a vulture and pull off the girls’ costume. If anyone bawls us out, we’ll say we were acting the part.”

  Peter’s chin trembled a little. “They gave me cookies,” he said.

  Wally sat down beside him. “Listen, Peter, would you like it if every time you were on a swing at school, Caroline told you to get off so she could have it?”

  “N-no”

  ‘‘What if Eddie made you come over and clean her room? Or do their dishes? Don’t you see what would happen if the girls win first prize and we have to be their slaves?”

  I guess.

  “That’s why we’ve got to be vultures,” Jake told him. “Wally, find out everything you can about vultures.”

  •

  The library was open on Monday nights, so after dinner Wally rode his bike over to the corner of East Main Street and Sedgwick. He looked up vulture in the encyclopedia. It didn’t tell him much he didn’t already know.

  “Try our new Birds of Prey book,” the librarian suggested, and pointed to a shelf under the window.

  Wally found the book and sat down with his paper and pencil. He started reading and his eyes grew wide. He read some more and his mouth fell open. He could not believe what was there on the page.

  A half hour later he was on his way home again, pedaling as fast as he could. Mom and Dad were out in the garden by the side of the house, picking the last of the tomatoes before they were killed by frost. Peter was on the living-room floor, building something with his Lego set, and Jake and Josh had their books spread out on the dining room table, doing their math assignment, when Wally burst through the front door.

  “You are absolutely not going to believe this!” he told them. Peter got up and came over.

  “Did you find out a lot of stuff we could do in the parade? Vulture stuff?’’ asked Jake.

  “Hoo boy!” said Wally. He unfolded the piece of paper he had scribbled on at the library. “Number one,” he read. “Vultures can soar as high as 26,000 feet.”

  “I’ll do that one,” Jake joked.

  “They have a six-foot wingspan.”

  “Get real,” said Josh.

  “They eat road kill,” Wally went on.

  “That’s you, Josh,” said Jake.

  “But their favorite food is rotting fish guts.”

  “That’s you, Jake,” said Josh.

  “When they’re scared, they throw up.”

  “That’s you, Wally,” laughed Jake and Josh together.

  “And they cool themselves by peeing on their legs.”

  “That’s Peter!” they all said at once.

  ‘‘That’s not¡ I won’t do it¡ You always try to make me do everything!” Peter bellowed.

  “But that’s not the worst,” Wally told them. “When the vulture is really upset, it … well, doo-doos. Vigorously.”

  “How are we supposed to do all that in the Halloween parade?” asked Jake.

  “Well, I don’t know, but here’s what we’d look like,” said Josh, turning his paper over. “Maybe if we made some beaks out of papier-mâché, and some feet with claws …”

  He immediately set to work.

  •

  At school the next day Wally was very, very careful not to act as though he knew that the Malloy girls were going to be a centipede. He was very, very careful not to even say the word centipede. Even when Caroline Malloy, who sat behind him, got restless in geography as she usually did and began bumping the back of his chair with her knees, he didn’t even turn around.

  When school was out that afternoon, he sat on the steps in the crisp October sunshine, collar turned up around his neck, and waited for Jake and Josh to come out. He was watching one lone leaf as it dangled from a branch above, twisting this way and that in the wind, and Wally wondered what it was like to be a leaf. Did it stay on the tree until its stem was dry and withered, then drop, or did it just suddenly think to itself one day, That’s it; I’m tossing in the towel, or did it—

  Suddenly the door banged again and out came Josh, his head down, Jake close at his heels.

  “Gosh darn it!” Josh yelped, throwing his jacket on the ground. Then he picked it up and threw it again.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Wally.

  “We had to trade papers for math and grade each other’s,” Jake explained.

  “So?”

  “So Josh had to trade with Eddie.”

  “So?” Wally said again.

  “Eddie found the picture of the vulture that Josh drew on the back of his math paper,” Jake told him.

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Seven

  •

  Change of Plans

  “You won’t believe this!”

  Eddie was waiting when Caroline and Beth came out of the building at three o’clock. The Hatford boys were already far down the sidewalk, their shoulders hunched against the wind.

  “What?” cried Caroline.

  “You won’t believe it!” Eddie said again. “If you ever thought the Hatford boys might really be nice underneath, or kind, or polite, think again.”

  “What did they do?” insisted Beth.

  “It’s not what they did, it’s what they were planning to do.”

  “What?” Caroline shouted. “Tell us!”

  “I can’t. Some things just have to be shown.”

  When they walked in the house, they all said hi to Mother, who was making a corn husk wreath to go on the front door, and went straight up to Eddie’s room, which looked like the locker room of the New York Mets, because there were baseball pictures everywhere.

  “Look.” Eddie threw her books on the bed and sat down. Then, reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I was supposed to give this back to Josh after I graded it, but I didn’t.”

  Caroline leaned over and stared at the paper.

  “It says, Math, 4 wrong.”

  Eddie turned the paper over. Caroline looked again. In the center of the picture was a drawing of a small centipede. There were three legs and three arms sticking out one side of it, three legs and three arms sticking out the other. And hovering over the centipede were four large feroc
ious-looking vultures, who were holding it down with their claws.

  “They know!” Beth gasped.

  “More than that,” said Eddie. “They’re going as vultures¡ Or were. But read the fine print.”

  Caroline looked hard at the first vulture.

  Jake, it said above the vulture’s head, and then, printed along the side: Eats rotten fish guts. Josh, it said above the second vulture: Throws up on the centipede.

  “Gross!” cried Beth.

  “It gets worse,” said Eddie.

  “Wally,” read Caroline aloud, pointing to the third vulture. She studied the dotted line from the vulture to the centipede, then turned the paper sideways to see what this vulture was doing. “Pees on the centipede!” She stared aghast, but Beth snatched the paper away.

  “Peter,” she read. “Peter … doo—” She gasped. “Peter does the doo-doo.”

  “They wouldn’t!’’ cried Caroline.

  “I don’t know what they’d do, but I never met four more disgusting guys in my life,” said Eddie.

  They sat motionless on the bed, staring at each other.

  “So much for the centipede,” said Beth.

  “I wouldn’t be a centipede for anything in the world,” said Caroline.

  “Then think!” said Eddie. “What are we going to be in the parade? We’ve got to be a bunch of something.”

  “Bananas?” said Caroline.

  “It’s been done.”

  “M&M’s?”

  “Everybody does that. Last year there were two groups of M&M’s at our school back home. It’s not original enough.”

  “One of us could be the Energizer rabbit, and the other two could be batteries,” said Caroline.

  Eddie sighed in disgust.

  “How about if I go as a tube of Cheez Whiz, and you two go as crackers?”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Beth.

  “Two dogs and a fire hydrant?” suggested Caroline, amazed at her own creativity.

  “Not bad,” said Eddie.

  “A parking meter and two coins?”

  “Keep going.”

  They thought of a toothbrush and molars, or Oxy pads and zits, but when they thought about how to make the costumes it just got too complicated.

  “The point is,” said Eddie, “the principal will be the judge. What we might like, and what the principal might like, are two different things entirely. It should probably be something with a lesson to it.”