Henry and the Clubhouse (7 page)

Mrs. Kelly called from an upstairs window, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Henry Huggins,” Henry answered. “I’m collecting for the
Journal
.”

“You’ll have to come back some other time,” Mrs. Kelly called down. “I’m giving the baby a bath.”

The second time Henry rang the doorbell, Mrs. Kelly answered. She wore pedal pushers and an old blouse, and her hair was bound up in a faded scarf. Two small children followed her to the door, and another was crying somewhere in the house. Behind Mrs. Kelly, Henry caught a glimpse of Ramona playing with a little girl her own age.

“Oh, it’s you again,” said Mrs. Kelly, before Henry had a chance to speak. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a cent in the house.You’ll have to come back after payday.”

Henry realized as he tripped over an old muffin tin on his way down the front steps that he had forgotten to ask Mrs. Kelly when payday was.

Henry was able to drive quite a few nails into the clubhouse before he got up his courage to go back to the Kellys’. The building, under Murph’s direction, was going along smoothly when it was not interrupted by Ramona, who was sometimes accompanied by Lisa, her little friend from kindergarten.They wanted to know if they could have nails to take home. They also asked the same riddles over and over.

“How is a dog different from a flea?” Ramona would ask.

“I don’t know.” Henry was the only boy who bothered to answer.

“Because a dog can have fleas, but a flea can’t have dogs,” Ramona would answer, and no matter how many times she asked the riddle, she and Lisa screamed with laughter at the answer.

“What is black and white and red all over?” Ramona always asked next.

“No girls allowed!” Murph yelled at this point. Then Ramona and Lisa would walk down the driveway, scuffing the toes of their shoes on the cement to show they were angry.The next day they would be back.

“Can’t you find a way to get rid of those pesty girls?” Murph asked.

Henry could only shrug. There was no easy way to get rid of Ramona.

Finally Henry decided he had to get up his courage to go back to the Kellys’, or Mr. Capper would start asking him why he had not finished collecting.

This time Mrs. Kelly met him at the door with a baby balanced on her hip. “Oh, it’s you again,” she said for a second time, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen, where Henry could hear an automatic washing machine running. “Come in while I find my purse.”

Henry stepped into the living room, which was scattered with toys, children’s clothing, and crumpled pages torn from magazines.There was a bowl of soggy breakfast food on the coffee table. A little boy who was sucking his thumb and holding an egg beater looked out of the kitchen door.

“Don’t pinch your fingers in the egg beater, Kermit,” said Mrs. Kelly. She looked wearily at Henry.“Would you mind keeping an eye on the children while I go find my purse? They are all in the kitchen. Kermit, Bobby, Lisa, and her little friend.”

“Sure.” What else could Henry say?  Anything to collect and get back to his clubhouse. He stepped into the kitchen where the washing machine was busily swish-swashing. Lisa and her little friend, who turned out to be Ramona, were kneeling on chairs at the kitchen table, cutting circles out of Play-Doh with cookie cutters.

“I know him,” said Ramona to Kermit and Bobby. “That’s Henry Huggins.”

“Let’s cross him out,” suggested Lisa.

Laughing wildly, the two little girls made big crisscross motions in the air in front of Henry.

“There,” said Ramona.“I guess we crossed him out.”

Henry did not know what to make of this and did not have time to give the matter much thought, because Bobby started to crawl out of the kitchen. Henry did not know how old Bobby was, but he knew he couldn’t be very old, because he was wearing diapers, plastic pants, and a T-shirt. In one hand he carried a piece of toast. Henry had never seen a baby drool as much as Bobby. As he crawled he left little puddles on the floor.

Henry heard Mrs. Kelly’s footsteps going up the stairs. Bobby dropped his toast on the floor. Lisa and Ramona giggled over some private girl joke. Kermit spun the egg beater and made a noise like machinery with his mouth. The washing machine churned. A dog walked into the kitchen, picked up Bobby’s toast, and dropped it again. It did not look as if anyone would get into trouble, but just the same Henry hoped their mother would hurry back. He was a paper carrier, not a babysitter.

Bobby picked up the soggy toast the dog had dropped and began to chew it. “Hey,” said Henry feebly. He was pretty sure babies were not supposed to eat toast that had been in a dog’s mouth. Gently he tried to take the toast from Bob, who clung to his crust and uttered a piercing scream. Henry backed away. Bobby put the toast back in his mouth and gnawed contentedly. Oh well, thought Henry, it looks like a pretty clean dog.

Then Henry discovered Kermit was missing. He stepped into the living room, where Kermit was twirling the egg beater, in time to see the dog lap up the soggy breakfast food in the bowl on the coffee table. “Cut that out,” said Henry even though it was too late to do any good.

The washing machine stopped swish-swashing and was silent as if it was resting up before starting to spin.

Mrs. Kelly called down from upstairs, “Kermit, what did you do with my purse?”

“I put it under the bed so Bobby wouldn’t get it,” answered Kermit.

Henry heard a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor. Followed by Kermit and the dog he went back to investigate.

Ramona was standing on a chair in front of the washing machine. She was not actually doing anything wrong, but knowing her, Henry was not taking any chances. “You better get down from there,” he said.

“Pooh,” said Ramona.

The washing machine gave a loud click and started to spin. Ramona reached toward the lid.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Henry spoke more forcefully this time.

“I don’t have to mind you,” Ramona informed him. “You’re just an old boy.” She lifted the lid of the washing machine to peek inside. Instantly dirty water and detergent spun out of the machine with a great whoosh, hitting Henry right in the face, drenching Ramona, and spraying the whole kitchen.

“Cut that out!” yelled Henry, snatching Ramona off the chair and slamming down the lid of the washing machine, but not until the jet of dirty water had circled the kitchen several more times.

All the children were howling with fright and Ramona howled the loudest. The dog shook himself and began to bark. Henry mopped his face with his damp sleeve and looked around at the rivulets of dirty water trickling down the walls and cupboard doors onto the floor. It was a wet, sloppy mess, and there was no time to clean it up.

“What did you have to go do that for?” he demanded of Ramona, as Mrs. Kelly’s feet came thumping down the stairs.

Ramona, who was dripping with dirty water, stopped howling and looked sulky. “I just wanted to see what it looked like inside when it was spinning,” she said.

Disgusted as he was, Henry felt a small flash, a very small flash, of understanding for Ramona. He had always been curious to see a load of spinning clothes, too.

“Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Mrs.Kelly from the doorway as she looked at the wet children and dripping walls. The children’s howls subsided when they saw their mother. “What on earth happened?”

“I’m awfully sorry,” Henry apologized.“I tried to stop Ramona, but she lifted the lid of the washing machine before I could get to her.” He glared at Ramona, who made a face right back at him.

“Tattletale,” said Ramona.

Maybe he was a tattletale, but Henry didn’t know what else he could have told Mrs. Kelly. She would know the washing machine did not open itself. “I’ll help wipe it up,” he offered, feeling this was the least he could do.

Mrs. Kelly looked around her dripping kitchen. “Oh well,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose I should wash down the walls sometime. No, don’t bother to help.You just take Ramona home so she can get cleaned up and into some dry clothes.”

“OK . . .” Henry tried to sound willing. “I’m sure sorry, Mrs. Kelly. I’d be glad to come back and help clean up.”

Mrs. Kelly managed a smile. “No thank you, Henry.You’ve done enough already.”

Henry was not at all sure how she meant this remark. “Come on, Ramona,” he said, anxious to get away.

Outside, Ramona pushed her wet hair back from her forehead so it wouldn’t drip into her eyes and said,“I can go home by my own self.”

“That’s all right with me,” said Henry crossly. He knew that now that Ramona went to kindergarten, she was allowed to cross all but the busiest streets alone.

Ramona went her way and Henry went his. When he came to Klickitat Street he found Mrs. Peabody out raking up leaves from her lawn. Ranger, who was lying on the porch, looked suspiciously at Henry, but did not move.

“Why, Harry Higgins!” she exclaimed. “You’re all wet.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Henry sheepishly. He was trying to find a polite way to let Mrs. Peabody know his name was not Harry Higgins. Then his thoughts began to leap.

Mrs. Peabody. His paper route. The money for the
Journal
. He had forgotten to get the money from Mrs. Kelly!

Henry’s thoughts were in a turmoil as he walked down the street. He could not go back and ask Mrs. Kelly for the money after what had happened. He would just skip the whole thing and pay for the Kellys’ papers himself. Nobody would ever know the difference. No, he wouldn’t either. He would never save enough for a sleeping bag if he did that.Yes, he would, too. He could never, never bring himself to ring that doorbell again.Yes, he could. No, he could not. That Ramona! She was the cause of all this. A little old kindergartner.

That settled the matter for Henry. He was not going to let a girl in kindergarten keep him from getting the money he had coming to him. Henry turned around and started back toward the Kellys’ house.

“Well, Harry, did you forget something?” asked Mrs. Peabody.

“Yes, I did,” answered Henry, managing to sound polite. He was so disgusted with Ramona that he felt like snapping at the whole world. First she had told Mrs. Peabody only she could prevent forest fires, and now this. If she ever caused him any more trouble on his paper route he would. . . he would . . . do something. What he would do he did not know.

Henry marched straight up the steps and rang the Kellys’ doorbell.

Lisa looked out of the window smeared with little fingerprints and screamed, “Mommy, it’s that boy again!”

When the door opened, Henry was the first to speak. “Mrs. Kelly, I am sorry to bother you again, but I didn’t get the money for the paper when I was here before.” He was still so disgusted with Ramona he forgot to be embarrassed.

“I thought you would be back.” Mrs. Kelly laid down the cellulose sponge in her hand and picked up her purse, which was lying on a chair near the door.

Henry accepted the money and gave Mrs. Kelly a receipt. Whew, he thought, I hope I never have to go through this again.  And he decided he had better make sure that he did not.

“Uh . . . Mrs. Kelly,” he ventured, “what day would be best for me to collect?”

“The first Saturday of the month,” answered Mrs. Kelly. “That is payday.”