Henry and the Clubhouse (9 page)

Henry was aware that the clubhouse had suddenly grown darker. He turned and saw that the door must have blown shut. Just then he heard a snap and he had a terrible feeling. He tried the door. It was locked.

Locked from the outside and there was only one person who could have done it—Ramona.

Henry looked out of the window and saw Ramona sitting on the steps, calmly licking her fingers. “You let me out of here!” he yelled.

Ramona stopped licking long enough to answer. “I don’t have a key.”

This stopped Henry. Of course she did not have a key. Both keys were carefully hidden and he was not going to tell any girl where they were, either. He could get out some way.

Henry threw his shoulder against the door. Nothing happened. It was a good, solid door. He threw his shoulder against the walls. Still nothing happened. They were good solid walls.

 Henry rubbed his shoulder and decided that Murph had done a good job of planning the clubhouse. Maybe too good.  Next he jumped up and down as hard as he could. The floor was a good solid floor.  The whole clubhouse, Henry concluded, was as solidly built as a jail, and right now that was exactly what it was.

Next Henry considered breaking a window. He looked around, but there was not a hammer or a stick of wood he could use. If he slammed his fist through the glass, he would be sure to cut himself, and even if he did break the glass, the windows were divided into four small panes and he had no way of removing the dividing pieces of wood.

Next Henry tried yelling. “Help! Help!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Help! Help!” 

Ribsy stood up and barked. Nothing happened. Nothing at all unless you counted the pleased look on Ramona’s face.

Where was everybody, anyway?

“Huh-huh-huh-help,” said Ramona, as if she were thinking very hard. Little puffs of vapor came out of her mouth, because the afternoon was so cold.“Help begins with an
h
!” Plainly Ramona was pleased with herself for making this discovery. Her kindergarten teacher was teaching her class the sounds the letters make.

Henry knew that his mother was downtown. Robert was getting a haircut, Beezus was home, and he did not know where Murph was. Then he caught a glimpse of Mrs. Grumbie, his next-door neighbor, looking out of an upstairs window. “Help!” he yelled, pounding on the door. “Let me out!”

Mrs. Grumbie nodded and waved. She was used to boys playing in Henry’s backyard.

There was nothing to do, Henry decided, but try to make himself comfortable until his mother came home. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. Ho-hum. It was going to be a long, cold wait. He felt cross and disgusted. That Ramona . . . that pest . . .

Suddenly Henry leaped to his feet. His route! His paper route. He
had
to get out.

He could not stay trapped until six o’clock or he wouldn’t get his papers delivered in time. And he knew what his father would say about that. Boy!

The only thing to do, Henry decided, was to tell Ramona where the key was and to get her to unlock the padlock. That would not be so terrible, now that he stopped to think about it. All he would have to do was find another hiding place after Ramona had gone home.

Henry looked out of the window. Ramona was no longer on the steps.

Apparently she had lost interest in Henry when he was silent, because now she was skipping down the driveway. He couldn’t let her go. She was his only hope.

“Ramona! Wait!” yelled Henry.

Ramona stopped and looked back.

“Come here,” called Henry. “I want to tell you something.”

This tempted Ramona. She walked back and stood under the clubhouse window, looking up at Henry.

Henry had a feeling that if he was going to get Ramona to do what he wanted he had better make this good.“Uh . . . Ramona, I am going to let you in on a secret. A big secret.”

Ramona, who liked secrets, looked interested.

Henry decided to build it up. “A secret that only
boys
know,” he added impressively.

“I don’t like boys,” Ramona informed him. “Boys are mean.”

Henry saw that he had better choose his words with more care. At the same time he had to hurry, because it was almost time to start his route. “Only three people in the whole world know the secret.” He watched Ramona’s reaction. She seemed to be waiting for him to go on.

Henry lowered his voice as much as he could and still make himself heard through the glass. “I am going to tell you where the key to the clubhouse is—”

“Where?” demanded Ramona.

“Wait a minute,” said Henry. “First you have to promise something.” He worked hard to look as if there was something mysterious and exciting about the promise he was about to extract, but it was hard work.

He was tired of the game and wanted to get out. Now. “If you promise to unlock the padlock, I will tell you where the key is.”

Ramona stared stonily at Henry. “I don’t want to.”

“But
why
?” Henry was desperate.

“I just don’t,” Ramona informed him.

Oh-h. Henry groaned.Then he was mad, just plain mad.That Ramona! She was going to make him lose his route, and then he would never get his sleeping bag, and his father would be cross with him, and Mr.Capper would find a bigger boy to take the route. . . . Henry banged his fist against the side of the clubhouse. For some reason that made him feel better. He began to stamp his feet and pound his fists and yell. At least, he thought grimly, this was keeping Ramona interested. And he couldn’t let her get away.  She was his only hope . . . almost, it seemed, his only contact with civilization. It occurred to him that it must be almost time for the Sheriff Bud program on television, and Ramona never missed Sheriff Bud.

It seemed silly to yell “help!” and “let me out!” when nobody was going to help him or let him out. Henry tried a Tarzan yell.

Ramona sat down on the back steps and propped her chin up on her fist.

“Open Sesame!” yelled Henry, just in case it might work.The door remained shut.

Then in desperation Henry tried the club yell, hoping that somehow it would work like a magic spell.

“Fadatta, fadatta, fadatta,

Beepum, boopum, bah!

Ratta datta boom sh-h

Ahfah deedee bobo!”

To his surprise it did work like a magic spell. Ramona got up and came over to the clubhouse window. “Say that again, Henry,” she begged.

This time it was Henry’s turn to say no.  To do so gave him great satisfaction.

“Please, Henry.”

Henry saw that he had a bargaining point. A girl who would sing television commercials would naturally like something that sounded really good. “I’ll say it again if you get the key and unlock the padlock first.”

Ramona thought it over.“Puh-puh-puh-padlock begins with a
p
!” she said triumphantly.

Henry groaned. “I
know
padlock begins with a
p
,” he said. “Now will you get the key?” Then he added hastily. “Key begins with a
k
.”

“We haven’t had
k
yet at school.” Ramona seemed suddenly agreeable. “Where is the key?” she asked.

Feeling like a traitor to Robert and Murph, Henry revealed the secret. “Under the flowerpot on the back porch.”

Ramona found the key and Henry could hear her fumbling as she inserted it in the padlock. “Say it,” she ordered.

Henry rattled off the club’s secret words.

“Now unlock it,” he begged, and outside he could hear Ramona struggling with the padlock.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t make the key turn.”

Henry pressed his nose against the window. “Look,” he said, “go get Beezus. If you do, I’ll teach you both to say fadatta, fadatta, fadatta. And . . . tell her I’m sorry.”

I am a traitor, thought Henry, a one-hundred-percent traitor. But what else could he do? He had to get his papers delivered somehow. Then he began to worry about Ramona. Maybe she would forget to tell Beezus. Maybe she would remember Sheriff Bud, turn on the television set, and forget all about him.

There was nothing Henry could do but wait. Actually he did not wait very long, but it seemed that way. It seemed to him that he waited and waited and waited. The clubhouse felt colder and damper and more like a dungeon every minute.

At last Henry heard footsteps coming up the driveway. Beezus had come to his rescue—he hoped. Beezus was alone, and Henry guessed that Ramona had stayed home to watch television. “Hi, Beezus,” he called through the window.“It’s sure nice of you to come and let me out . . . after the way I have . . . uh . . . acted.” The last words Henry found difficult to speak, but he felt better when he had said them.

Beezus looked as if she had not made up her mind to let Henry out. “I didn’t say I was going to let you out,” she reminded him. “You don’t want girls around, you know.”

Henry had no answer for this.“Aw, come on, Beezus,” he pleaded.“I’ve got to start my route.”

Beezus thought it over. “All right, I’ll let you out, but only because I know you have to start your route,” she agreed, like the sensible girl she was. “But first teach me the secret words.”

Henry knew when he was licked.“Oh, all right, if that’s the way you feel about it.

Fadatta . . . fadatta . . . fadatta.”

“Fadatta . . . fadatta . . . fadatta,” Beezus repeated gravely.

“Beepum, boopum, bah.”

“Beepum, boopum, bah.” 

Fortunately Beezus learned quickly and soon mastered the secret words. She was a girl who kept her part of the bargain. She unlocked the padlock and slipped it out of the clasp.  “There,” she said.

“Thanks, Beezus,” said Henry, as he stepped out to fresh air and freedom. He picked up his bicycle. He had no time to talk if he was going to get his papers folded and delivered.

Beezus did not seem to mind that Henry was in such a hurry. “Fadatta, fadatta, fadatta,” she chanted.“Good-bye, Henry. I’m going home to teach the secret words to Ramona like I promised.”

Henry threw his leg over his bicycle and pedaled down the driveway. Now the secret words would be all over the neighborhood.  Robert and Murph would not like it, but Henry hoped that since they knew Ramona they would understand and not mind too much.

That Ramona! thought Henry. Always causing him trouble on his route. He would have to do something about her, but what anybody could do about Ramona, he did not know. All he knew was that if he was going to keep his paper route and his clubhouse he had better do something, and do it soon.

6

Henry Writes a Letter

Naturally as soon as Ramona learned the secret words, she recited them every chance she got and soon they were all over the neighborhood. They were all over Glenwood School, too. Everywhere Henry went he heard
fadatta
s and
beepum
,
boopum
,
bah
s. He began to wish he had never heard the silly thing. Quite a few mothers felt this way, too, and asked their children
please
to stop saying that—that
thing
. But the whole school went right on saying,“fadatta, fadatta, fadatta.”

And all because of Ramona. Yes, Henry decided, something was going to have to be done about Ramona, but what he did not know.

“Say, Mom,” Henry said one evening, “how can I keep Ramona from being such an awful pest all the time?”

“Just don’t pay any attention to her,” answered Mrs. Huggins.

“But Mom,” protested Henry.“You don’t know Ramona.”

Mrs. Huggins laughed. “Yes, I do. She is just a lively little girl who gets into mischief sometimes. Ignore her, and she will stop bothering you. She only wants attention.”

Henry could not help feeling that his mother did not understand the situation. He had ignored Ramona. That was the whole trouble. He was not paying any attention to her so he had found himself locked in the clubhouse. This was not a little mischief. It was a terrible thing for her to do.

“Surely you are smarter than a five-year-old,” remarked Mr. Huggins jokingly.

Henry did not have an answer for his father, who, after all, was safe in his office all day and did not know what a nuisance Ramona could be.