and Bethand Caroline want to look at them some more, so I'm going to live over here for a while.”
“Peter Hatford, you pick up your feet and get yourself home this very minute!” Mrs. Hatford was practically screaming. “This house is a zoo, I tell you! A living, breathing zoo!”
“Okay,” said Peter.
“Peter!” his mother continued. “You go back to the table and thank Mrs. Malloy for whatever you ate so far. Then you wipe your mouth on your napkin and carry your dishes to the sink, and you go out the door and come home. Do you understand me?”
“Okay,” said Peter. He hung up the phone and walked back into the dining room, Caroline at his heels.
“Thanks for what I ate so far, but I have to go home. Mom said,” Peter told them.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Mrs. Malloy. “Can't you even finish your dinner?”
“Mom said to pick up my feet and come home,” Peter told her. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, picked up his plate, and carried it to the kitchen.
“Now, what was
that
all about?” Coach Malloy asked.
“Don't ask, George, don't ask,” said Mrs. Malloy.
Caroline went into the kitchen with her own empty plate and got there just in time to see Peter hurriedly stuff something into his pocket. He grinned at her sheepishly and went back through the dining room.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Well, it was nice to see you, Peter,” said Mrs. Malloy. “We'll invite you to dinner another time.”
“Yes, we'll see you at the game Saturday,” said the coach. “Tell your dad hello for me.”
Peter went out the front door and closed it as Beth took her plate to the kitchen.
“Hey!” she yelled.
“Now what?” asked Mrs. Malloy.
Beth came back into the dining room carrying the chocolate fudge pie. There was a large hole in the middle of it, as though someone, with an insistent thumb, had carved out a bite for himself.
Nine
Letter to Georgia
Dear Bill (and Danny and Steve and Tony and Doug):
Boy, did you guys ever goof up! You know those pictures we took a year ago? A really stupid picture of each of us, so that if one of us ever betrayed the others, we'd have an embarrassing picture of him to show around school? Well, guess who has them now? Right. Caroline and her sisters.
WHY did you leave them in your basement when you moved? WHY didn't you take them with you?
The Whomper, The Weirdo, and the Crazie have probably been having laughing fits over them. Beth found them on top of a heating duct and the girls won't give them back. Beth says they want to look at them a little longer.
I can't stand it. You know what I'm wearing in my picture? My old bunny pajamas—the ones with feet and
floppy ears. They were way too small for me then, and now Peter wears them.
Just remember that you guys have pictures in that album too. Remember how you're dressed up like a ballerina, Steve? With a ribbon in your hair? One false move by us and those pictures will probably make the rounds at school. We tried sending Peter over to sweet-talk the girls into giving them back, but no luck.
The weird thing is, the only people who seem to be getting along right now are Jake and Eddie, probably because they're on the same baseball team. And somehow I have to stay home the day of the championship game because Mom's in charge of the yard sale of the Women's Auxiliary of the Buckman Fire Department, and someone has to guard the stuff that day till she gets back from the game. The sale, of course, happens to be on
our
driveway, in
our
front yard, up on
our
front porch the exact day of the game.
You guys sure did a number on us by moving away, letting the Malloys rent your house, and leaving those pictures in the basement. What do you have to say for yourselves?
Wally (and Jake and Josh and Peter)
P.S. I'd send this by e-mail but stuff for the yard sale is piled in my room blocking my computer. It'll have to go by snail mail, and no telling when you'll get it.
Ten
Game Two
O n the way to school the next morning,
“Peter Hatford, you pick up your feet and get yourself home this very minute!” Mrs. Hatford was practically screaming. “This house is a zoo, I tell you! A living, breathing zoo!”
“Okay,” said Peter.
“Peter!” his mother continued. “You go back to the table and thank Mrs. Malloy for whatever you ate so far. Then you wipe your mouth on your napkin and carry your dishes to the sink, and you go out the door and come home. Do you understand me?”
“Okay,” said Peter. He hung up the phone and walked back into the dining room, Caroline at his heels.
“Thanks for what I ate so far, but I have to go home. Mom said,” Peter told them.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Mrs. Malloy. “Can't you even finish your dinner?”
“Mom said to pick up my feet and come home,” Peter told her. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, picked up his plate, and carried it to the kitchen.
“Now, what was
that
all about?” Coach Malloy asked.
“Don't ask, George, don't ask,” said Mrs. Malloy.
Caroline went into the kitchen with her own empty plate and got there just in time to see Peter hurriedly stuff something into his pocket. He grinned at her sheepishly and went back through the dining room.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Well, it was nice to see you, Peter,” said Mrs. Malloy. “We'll invite you to dinner another time.”
“Yes, we'll see you at the game Saturday,” said the coach. “Tell your dad hello for me.”
Peter went out the front door and closed it as Beth took her plate to the kitchen.
“Hey!” she yelled.
“Now what?” asked Mrs. Malloy.
Beth came back into the dining room carrying the chocolate fudge pie. There was a large hole in the middle of it, as though someone, with an insistent thumb, had carved out a bite for himself.
Nine
Letter to Georgia
Dear Bill (and Danny and Steve and Tony and Doug):
Boy, did you guys ever goof up! You know those pictures we took a year ago? A really stupid picture of each of us, so that if one of us ever betrayed the others, we'd have an embarrassing picture of him to show around school? Well, guess who has them now? Right. Caroline and her sisters.
WHY did you leave them in your basement when you moved? WHY didn't you take them with you?
The Whomper, The Weirdo, and the Crazie have probably been having laughing fits over them. Beth found them on top of a heating duct and the girls won't give them back. Beth says they want to look at them a little longer.
I can't stand it. You know what I'm wearing in my picture? My old bunny pajamas—the ones with feet and
floppy ears. They were way too small for me then, and now Peter wears them.
Just remember that you guys have pictures in that album too. Remember how you're dressed up like a ballerina, Steve? With a ribbon in your hair? One false move by us and those pictures will probably make the rounds at school. We tried sending Peter over to sweet-talk the girls into giving them back, but no luck.
The weird thing is, the only people who seem to be getting along right now are Jake and Eddie, probably because they're on the same baseball team. And somehow I have to stay home the day of the championship game because Mom's in charge of the yard sale of the Women's Auxiliary of the Buckman Fire Department, and someone has to guard the stuff that day till she gets back from the game. The sale, of course, happens to be on
our
driveway, in
our
front yard, up on
our
front porch the exact day of the game.
You guys sure did a number on us by moving away, letting the Malloys rent your house, and leaving those pictures in the basement. What do you have to say for yourselves?
Wally (and Jake and Josh and Peter)
P.S. I'd send this by e-mail but stuff for the yard sale is piled in my room blocking my computer. It'll have to go by snail mail, and no telling when you'll get it.
Ten
Game Two
O n the way to school the next morning,
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