Girls Rule! (2 page)

“With chocolate chips and raisins and M&M’s?” asked Peter.

“Anything you want,” said Caroline. “All you have
to do for me is put a little mark in the box beside my name.”

“What box?” asked Peter.

“Well, if a list goes around town with people’s names on it, people who might be chosen to be in the Strawberry Festival Parade, then I hope you’ll think of the friendship cookies I’m going to bake for you and put a check mark beside my name.”

“Okay,” said Peter, closing his eyes and putting his arms out in front of him again.

“Curb, Peter!” Wally yelled behind them, just in time to stop Peter from stepping down into the street. “A lot of help
you
are,” he muttered to Caroline as he moved beside her and guided his brother across the street.

Caroline felt discouraged. Wally wouldn’t vote for her, that was for sure. So it was one vote
yes,
one vote
no
. She wasn’t getting very far by being nice.

Two
Plans

O
nly two more weeks of school, Wally Hatford was thinking as he slid into his seat. Then he would not have to sit in front of Caroline ever again. She couldn’t make Xs on his back any longer with her pencil eraser, or tap out a rhythm on his shoulder blades with her ruler. She couldn’t whisper stupid stuff either, and try to make his neck and ears turn red.

Next year, if the Malloys stayed in Buckman and he was in the same class as Caroline, he would find a way to sit as far away from her as possible. If she was sitting in the front of the room, he would tell the teacher he was farsighted and had to sit in the last row. If Caroline was assigned to the back row, he would tell
the teacher he was nearsighted and had to sit up front. Two more weeks, or ten more days, and he was a free man!

“Well, class,” Miss Applebaum said from her desk, where a big bouquet of zinnias brightened the room, “I have news.” She was wearing a yellow shirt, and green jangling earrings shaped like ears of corn. She always changed her earrings according to the season. “You all know that Buckman will hold its Strawberry Festival in three weeks and, of course, that there will be a parade.”

“Yay!” the class said in unison.

“Strawberry pancakes!” said one of the girls.

“Strawberry shortcake,” said a boy.

“Strawberry ice cream!"

“Strawberry milk shakes!"

“Strawberry sundaes!"

“But here’s something you may not know,” said Miss Applebaum. “The Buckman Community Hospital wants to build a whole new wing just for treating children. They’ll have to raise a lot of money, and last week at the town council meeting, the mayor said it was a good idea to get children involved.”

Wally knew that raising money wasn’t quite the same as raising corn or lima beans, and certainly nothing like raising a puppy.
Oh, no!
he thought.
They’re not going to get their hands on my piggy bank!

“There isn’t much time, we realize that,” the teacher continued, “but we know you like parades and we know you like strawberries. So the First National Bank
of Buckman has decided that all students who can earn or collect twenty dollars or more will have their choice of either all the strawberry treats they can eat or a place in the parade. Each of you can decide which you want.”

“Parade!” someone said.

“Strawberry shortcake!” said another. “With whipped cream on top.”

Wally couldn’t make up his mind. He liked the idea of going from booth to booth for all the strawberry treats he could eat. Strawberry waffles with strawberry syrup, even. But he also liked the thought of riding on a float with a big brass band following along behind.

“And everyone who earns any money at all for the hospital fund will get a piece of strawberry shortcake,” said Miss Applebaum.

“How are we supposed to earn the money?” someone asked.

“That’s up to you, but you’ll have to work fast,” the teacher said. “The bank will provide the containers and you may want to go from house to house collecting money. Or maybe you can think of something you could do for your neighbors.”

Wally knew that in every classroom in Buckman Elementary, every student was hearing the same thing from
his
teacher. Seven-year-old Peter down in second grade was probably hearing it right now, and so were his twin brothers, Josh and Jake, in sixth grade. So were the two older Malloy girls, Beth and Eddie. This meant that all three hundred and forty-two students
could be out combing their neighborhoods at the same time, trying to collect twenty dollars for the hospital building fund.

“I know what I’m going to choose” came a whisper over Wally’s left shoulder.

He knew he was supposed to turn around and ask, “What?” And when he didn’t, the voice went on, “I’m going to ask to be on the float with the Strawberry Queen.”

“Fat chance,” Wally whispered back, turning his head to the side. If Caroline got to ride on the float with the Strawberry Queen, he was going to fly to the moon.

“I might even
be
the Strawberry Queen!” Caroline continued, her voice dreamy. “If I get to be Strawberry Queen, do you want to be Strawberry King and wave to the crowd beside me?”

Wally turned all the way around in his seat. “You aren’t going to be the Strawberry Queen. You’re not even going to be one of her servants, I’ll bet!” He stopped suddenly because he was talking too loudly, and everyone was looking at him.

“Wally,” said Miss Applebaum. “Maybe you and Caroline would like to continue your conversation at recess.”

Wally faced forward again, the blood rising to his face as the other boys grinned. No, he did not want to discuss anything with Caroline at recess. He did not want to discuss anything with her ever again if he could help it. When the class spilled out onto the playground later, Wally and his friends started a game
of kickball, and he was glad to forget Caroline for a while.

After school, he walked ahead of his brothers so that he was the first one to reach home. It was always a relief when the Malloy girls said goodbye at the footbridge and went on across the river to their house on Island Avenue. Then Wally could go inside his own house and close the door.

The phone rang as soon as the boys entered the kitchen. It was as though there were a surveillance camera above the stove and their mother, who worked in a hardware store, knew the minute they got home from school.

“Hello, Mom,” Wally said, lifting the phone. He didn’t even have to ask.

“Everything all right?” Mrs. Hatford said.

“Peter’s been poisoned, Jake and Josh broke their legs, and Caroline gouged out my eyes with her ruler,” Wally answered.

Mrs. Hatford ignored him completely. “There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge you can have, along with the orange juice, but I don’t want you boys eating anything else until supper,” she said.

What would she say, Wally wondered, if Peter really
had
been poisoned? How would he ever make her understand it was for real?

“The kids at school are supposed to help raise money for the new children’s wing at the hospital,” Wally told her.

“I know. I heard someone talking about it at the store today,” said his mother. “Have you thought of something you can do to earn money?”

Wally was watching his seven-year-old brother worm one finger up his nostril. He would dig around for a minute, wipe his finger on his pants, and dig some more. “I was thinking of selling Peter, but I doubt anyone would pay twenty dollars for him,” he said.

“Go eat your pizza, Wally,” his mother said. “And don’t turn on the TV till you’ve done your homework.”

Wally hung up and sat at the table waiting for the microwave to ding. He watched Josh pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Did you get the talk about raising money for the hospital?” he asked his brothers.

“Yeah,” said Jake.

“You going to do it?”

“Sure. I’ve always wanted to ride on one of the floats,” Jake answered.

“Me too,” said Josh.

“
I’d
rather eat strawberries!” said Peter. “All the strawberry ice cream I can eat!” He rubbed his stomach in anticipation.

Jake looked around at his brothers. “Whatever we do to earn money, though, don’t tell the Malloys. They’ll just steal our ideas. Or else they’ll think of some stupid way to make money and try to get us to go along with it.”

“Yeah!” said Wally. “Caroline would probably write a play and want us to be in it.”

“They’d charge everyone a dollar just to come and watch us act like idiots,” said Josh.

“Eddie would be the worst, though,” said Jake. “I’ll bet she’d put on a baseball exhibition and charge people to come and watch her throw. Want us to stand out there and pitch balls to her just so everyone could see how hard she can hit.”

Peter stuffed the last bite of pizza into his mouth and said, “Why are we mad at the girls? I thought we were friends now. I thought that after you and Eddie won the baseball championship, you were going to get along better, Jake.”

The three older boys studied their brother.

“Who said we’re mad at anybody?” asked Jake. “It’s just time we started doing our own thing. If the Bensons move back this summer, we can’t always be doing stuff with the girls, like bottle races down the river. They better get used to entertaining themselves, ’cause we’ve got a lot of catching up to do with the guys.”

“Right. The girls have to learn to get along without us,” said Josh.

Wally waited. He felt sure he knew what was coming next. He was positive he knew what Jake would say. Because where the Malloy girls were concerned, Jake always said the same sort of thing.

“Let’s see who can earn the money first, them or us,” said Jake.

“No fair!” said Josh. “There are only three of them and four of us. We should count Peter out.”

“Are you kidding?” said Jake. “All Peter has to do is
stand outside a grocery store looking angelic, and people will be giving him money right and left.”

“Put a halo around his head and people will be standing in line to ante up,” said Wally.

They slugged down the last of the orange juice and sat back in their chairs, wiping their mouths on their sleeves.

“It’ll be nice to have the Bensons back in their house again and the Malloys gone to Ohio,” said Jake.

Peter tipped his glass back so far that it covered his nose. When the last drop of juice had trickled into his mouth, he put the glass on the table and said, “What if the Bensons come back and the girls decide to
stay
?”

Wally looked at Josh and Josh looked at Jake.

“That can’t happen,” said Jake, “because if Coach Benson comes back,
he’ll
be coach of the college football team again, and Mr. Malloy will be out of a job.”

“Oh,” said Peter. The kitchen was quiet for a moment. “But what if Coach Benson doesn’t
want
his old job back? What if he wants to do something else?”

“It doesn’t matter what job he takes, Peter,” Josh explained. “If the Bensons come back, they’ll want their house back. And even if the Malloys stay, they’ll have to move somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” said Jake, beginning to smile. “We won’t have to see them crossing the footbridge every morning.”

“We won’t be walking with them to school,” said Wally.

“We won’t be wondering if they’re looking at us
from across the river with their dad’s binoculars, trying to see us in our underwear,” said Josh.

“If they decide to stay in Buckman, they’ll probably move clear across town,” said Jake.

“Out in the country, even,” said Josh. “It’ll be like old times again. Just us and the Bensons. We won’t even know the Malloys are around.”

“
If
the Bensons come back, of course,” Jake said.

To Wally, it seemed as though the summer were one gigantic
if
.

Three
Bigger Plans