Boys Against Girls (3 page)

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Authors: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

BOOK: Boys Against Girls
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      M
r. and Mrs. Hatford went to the PTA meeting, too, and Wally had thought that for once in his life, perhaps, he could eat Fritos and watch TV first and do his homework later. He had his hand halfway into the sack of Fritos when Jake said, “Come on, we're going!”

“Where?” Wally was square shaped, with thick hands like his dad's. He and Peter resembled each other, while Jake and Josh were string-bean skinny, tall, and were tan by the first week of June. Even in November they seemed to look tan.
“Where
are we going?” Wally asked again.

In answer Jake held up a little rectangular box, and when Wally still didn't get it, he held up a cassette player.

“A cassette?”

Jake grinned and so did Josh, who was putting on his jacket in the hallway.

“What is it?” asked Wally.

“Wolves’ said Jake. “Remember that tape Aunt Ida sent for our birthday—from the Wildlife Fund?” He read the label on the cassette.
“Wolves in the Wild.
We're going to play it outside the girls’ window.”

Wally grinned, too, and went for his jacket. Then he stopped. “What about Peter?”

Peter was sitting in front of the TV in his pajamas and bunny slippers, eating a box of Cracker Jack. Wally knew without asking that they were never, ever, to go off and leave Peter alone, especially at night.

“Darn¡ I forgot!” Jake paused, then went on into the living room. “Hey, Peter, want to go for a walk with us?”

“Huh-uh.” Peter pressed the palm of his hand to his mouth as he devoured another fistful of Cracker Jack.

“Hey, come
on\
It'll be exciting!”

“No. I want to watch this,” said Peter.

Josh and Wally went into the living room too.

“That's a rerun, Peter¡ You can see that any day¡ We're going to do something fun!” said Josh.

“What?”

“We're going to be wolves,” said Jake.

Peter looked doubtful.

“We'll buy you three more boxes of Cracker Jack if you'll come’ Jake promised.

Peter reluctantly slid off the couch, put on his jacket, and the four boys went out onto the porch and down the steps.

The thing was, Wally was thinking, Peter might tell. Letting Peter in on a secret was like putting water in a paper bag. Still, there was nothing to be done except tell him the truth. So when Peter asked Wally what they were going to do exactly, Wally answered:

“It's just a little joke, but we want to keep it secret, okay? Jake has that tape of wolves howling—you know the one Aunt Ida sent him? We're going to play it outside the Malloys’ window so the girls will think it's the abaguchie.”

Peter grinned a little. Wally could see his face under the streetlight. They crossed the road and started across the swinging footbridge that connected College Avenue to Island Avenue.

By the time they got all the way across, however, the bridge bouncing with every step, Peter complained that his feet hurt.

“He's still wearing his bunny slippers!” Jake said in dismay.

“I'll carry him,” said Wally, and squatted down so
that Peter could climb on his back. He grabbed hold of Peter's legs, and they started off again.

At the foot of the Malloys’ driveway, however, Wally set Peter down on a big rock there by the road.

“Now, you sit here and be very, very quiet,” Wally told him.

“We're just going up to the window and play some of the tape, then we're coming right back and heading home,” Jake said.

“Yeah, we want you to tell us what it sounds like from back here,” said Josh.

“Okay.” Peter pulled his feet up on the rock and circled his legs with his arms.

Wally, Jake, and Josh crept silently up the driveway. They went over to the lighted window.

Beth and Eddie were at the dining-room table, their schoolbooks spread out before them. And there in the living room was Caroline, sprawled on the couch, a book in her lap.

No mother in sight. No father. Just as the boys suspected, the girls were home alone.

The Hatfords crouched in the bushes just outside the dining-room window.

“Put it on medium volume to start, and then slowly increase it, as though the wolves are coming closer and closer,” whispered Josh. “Maybe they've got the TV on.”

Jake pushed up the volume control a little, then
pressed the “play” button. There came the low hiss of the tape, and then a loud “Owl-oooooo!”

At first nothing happened. But as Jake increased the volume and a third, and then a fourth “Owl-ooooo!” pierced the air, Wally saw Beth and Eddie look up, listening.

“Owl-oooo¡ Owl-oooo!”

Inside, the girls were talking to each other and looking toward the living room. Then Caroline, looking scared, appeared in the doorway of the dining room. All three were obviously listening.

“Owl-oooo¡ Owl-oooo¡ Yip, yip, yip!”

“Look¡ They're going nuts!” laughed Jake. “Did you see the way Caroline grabbed Beth?”

“Beth will pass out,” wheezed Josh. “She reads those kinds of books all the time at recess. All you have to do is creep up behind her and she yells bloody murder.”

“Owl-oooo¡ Yip, yip … Owl-oooo¡ Yip!”

“They're checking to make sure all the doors are locked,” said Wally, choking with laughter.

“This is better than a circus!” cried Jake. “I'd bet my last dollar that Caroline came home with the story about the abaguchie and told the whole family. She's probably been worried about it ever since.”

“How much longer are we going to stay out here? They might get suspicious,” whispered Josh.

“What we've got to do is move around. If we stay
at one window too long they might figure it out. We'll go around to the other side and play it, like there's an animal circling the house, then leave,” said Jake.

They moved on around the far side of the house. Inside, Beth dashed past the window, her face terrified. Then Caroline. The Malloy sisters were going crazy¡

After a while Wally said, “What if they call someone, Jake? I mean, what if they call the police? We'd better clear out.”

“What we ought to do is move slowly away from the house, like the abaguchie's going back into the woods. Let the howls sort of die away gradually,” said Josh.

They moved around to the dining room again, then backed away, until at last they were at the foot of the driveway.

“Okay, now we've got to beat it,” said Jake, turning the cassette player off. “Come on, Peter, let's go-”

Wally made his way over to the big rock so that Peter could climb on his back again. Except that Peter was gone. Nothing was there on the rock but the tail off one of his bunny slippers.

Four
Kidnapped

      I
t was better than being in a play at school. Better even than being an actress onstage. On a stage or on the screen people knew it was just a story being acted out. But here, in a lighted window, in front of the Hatford boys, who were undoubtedly watching from out in the bushes somewhere, Caroline's role was to convince the boys that she was really, truly terrified.

She called upon everything she had ever learned about being frightened. In fact, whenever she was angry or embarrassed, frightened or sad, she turned it into something to remember—how it felt in her chest. Was her brow furrowed? Were her lips pursed? Her eyes squinting or open wide?

However she found herself, she added it to her memory bank, and now she brought forth everything
she knew and played the role of being frightened for all it was worth.

“Oh, Beth¡ What will we do? What will we do?” she cried, putting panic in her voice and ending with a sob.

She had to admit that Beth played her part well, too, for her older sister rushed from room to room, hand to her throat, and every time a new “Owl-ooooo!” came from outside the window, they clutched at each other.

After five or six minutes, however, the wolf cries grew fainter and fainter until they were gone entirely. Caroline and Beth turned out the light in the living room and sat on the couch where the boys couldn't see them, shrieking with laughter.

“You were terrific, Beth¡ Really¡ Your face looked so worried!” Caroline said.

“And the way we ran around locking doors and windows!” said Beth.

There was the sound of someone fumbling with the back-door knob, then a knock.

“Should we answer?” asked Beth.

“Could be Eddie,” said Caroline, and ran to open it.

There stood Peter Hatford in his bunny slippers, Eddie right behind him.

“Hi,” he said. “Eddie invited me in for some root beer.”

Caroline stared.

“Yes,” said Eddie, ushering Peter on into the kitchen and winking at Beth and Caroline. “I went outside for a little walk, and happened to find Peter sitting on a rock at the end of our driveway. Seems as though his brothers left him there, so we decided to play a little joke on them. We hid in the bushes, and after they went home, I invited Peter in for some root beer.”

“Oh, sure¡ One root beer coming up!” said Caroline, and went to the refrigerator.

“How about some ice cream in it?” asked Beth. “Did you ever have a root-beer float?”

Peter nodded eagerly, and within minutes a large glass of foaming root beer and ice cream was set in front of him, with a plastic straw. Peter drank with loud gulps and swallows, stopping occasionally to grin and wipe the back of his hand across his mouth.

Beth fixed floats for the rest of them and they sat with Peter around the table. Caroline studied the Hatfords’ little brother. He was seven and she was eight, but he was a young seven and she was
almost
nine. She always felt like a much-older sister when she was around Peter.

“Do you and your brothers always sneak around outside after dark, Peter?” she asked.

Peter shook his head, his cheeks sunken as he sucked hard on the straw, taking the glass in both hands. “Only sometimes,” he said at last.

“What exactly were you trying to do?” Beth quizzed him.

“I wasn't doing anything, just sitting,” said Peter.

“Well, what were your brothers trying to do, then?”

“Just … um … playing,” said Peter. “Making noises and stuff.”

“What were they playing?” asked Caroline. Even though she and her sisters knew exactly what the boys had been up to, it was delicious getting Peter to spill the beans.

Peter didn't answer.

“Wolf, I'll bet,” said Beth.

Peter stopped slurping and looked up. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess,” said Beth. “What did they do? Take you with them and then forget all about you?”

“Yeah, that's what they did!” said Peter brightly. “Wally set me down on that rock, and he said to stay there until they … uh …”

“Until they what?” asked Eddie.

“Until they came back.”

The phone rang. More smiles. Beth got up and answered. It was Wally's voice on the end of the line,
and she held the receiver out away from her so that Caroline and Eddie could hear too:

“This is Wally. Listen, have you seen Peter?”

Beth turned toward the others there at the table and put her finger to her lips. Caroline and Eddie motioned to Peter not to make a sound.

“What are you talking about?” Beth asked.

Now there was panic in Wally's voice. Caroline
almost
felt sorry for him, but not quite.

“Are you
sure
you don't know where he is?” Wally bleated.

“Can't you even keep track of your own brother?” asked Beth. “I'll bet you guys were supposed to be sitting Peter and forgot all about him.”

“We did not¡ We told him—I mean, the last we saw him, he was—”

“Sorry,” said Beth, and hung up.

The three girls broke into laughter. Even Peter was smiling as his straw sucked noisily at the root beer in the bottom of his glass.

“Boy, Wally's gonna be sorry he left me on that rock,” he said.

The phone rang again. This time it was Jake.

“Listen, if Peter's over there, you'd better tell me,” he demanded.

“What would he be doing over here? He's probably supposed to be in bed!” said Beth. “Have you looked? Maybe he got tired and went to bed.”

“Beth, yes or no? Is Peter there or not?” Jake yelled.

Then Wally's voice in the background: “Jake, they're home!”

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