Beezus and Ramona by Beverly Cleary

house wasn’t empty after all! Just wait until she got hold of Ramona!
    Beezus snapped on the basement light and ran down the steps. “Ramona, come out,” she ordered. “I know you’re here.”
    The only answer was a chomping sound from the corner of the basement. Beezus ran around the furnace and there, in the dimlylit corner, sat Ramona, eating an apple.
    Beezus was so relieved to see Ramona safe, and at the same time so angry with her for hiding, that she couldn’t say anything. She just stood there filled with the exasperated mixed-up feeling that Ramona so often gave her.
    â€œHello,” said Ramona through a bite of apple.
    â€œRamona Geraldine Quimby!” exclaimed Beezus, when she had found her voice.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing?”
    â€œPlaying hide-and-seek,” answered Ramona.
    â€œWell, I’m not!” snapped Beezus. “It takes two to play hide-and-seek.”
    â€œYou found me,” Ramona pointed out.
    â€œOh…” Once again Beezus couldn’t find any words. To think she had worried so, when all the time Ramona was sitting in the basement listening to her call. And eating an apple, too!
    As she stood in front of Ramona, Beezus’s eyes began to grow accustomed to the dim light and she realized what Ramona was doing. She stared, horrified at what she saw. As if hiding were not enough! What would Mother say when she came home and found what Ramona had been up to this time?
    Ramona was sitting on the floor beside a box of apples. Lying around her on the cement floor were a number of apples—each with one bite out of it. While Beezus stared, Ramona reached into the box, selected an apple, took one big bite out of the reddest part, and tossed the rest of the apple onto the floor. While she noisily chewed that bite, she reached into the apple box again.
    â€œRamona!” cried Beezus, horrified. “You can’t do that.”
    â€œI can, too,” said Ramona through her mouthful.

    â€œStop it,” ordered Beezus. “Stop it this instant! You can’t eat one bite and then throw the rest away.”
    â€œBut the first bite tastes best,” explained Ramona reasonably, as she reached into the box again.
    Beezus had to admit that Ramona was right. The first bite of an apple always didtaste best. Ramona’s sharp little teeth were about to sink into another apple when Beezus snatched it from her.
    â€œThat’s my apple,” screamed Ramona.
    â€œIt is not!” said Beezus angrily, stamping her foot. “One apple is all you’re supposed to have. Just wait till Mother finds out!”
    Ramona stopped screaming and watched Beezus. Then, seeing how angry Beezus was, she smiled and offered her an apple. “I want to share the apples,” she said sweetly.
    â€œOh, no, you don’t,” said Beezus. “And don’t try to work that sharing business on me!” That was one of the difficult things about Ramona. When she had done something wrong, she often tried to get out of it by offering to share something. She heard a lot about sharing at nursery school.
    Now what am I going to do, Beezus wondered. I promised Mother I would keep an eye on Ramona, and look what she’sgone and done. How am I going to explain this to Mother? I’ll get scolded too. And all the apples. What can we do with them?
    Beezus was sure about one thing. She no longer felt mixed up about Ramona. Ramona was perfectly impossible. She snatched Ramona’s hand. “You come upstairs with me and be good until Mother gets back,” she ordered, pulling her sister up the basement stairs.
    Ramona broke away from her and ran into the living room. She climbed onto a chair, where she sat with her legs sticking straight out in front of her. She folded her hands in her lap and said in a little voice, “Don’t bother me. This is my quiet time. I’m supposed to be resting.”
    Quiet times