Horseflies by Bonnie Bryant Page A

and curled himself up in the far corner of the backseat. “They didn’t even have a merry-go-round that worked,” he complained in a wounded voice.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Atwood stroked his hair gently. “Lisa, why don’t you sit in the back with Jamie and keep him company? Carole, you and Stevie can ride up front with me.”
    “Thanks, Mrs. Atwood, but Phil and I are going to stay a little longer,” Stevie explained. “Mrs. Marsten’s going to give me a ride home later. My mom said it was okay.” She stashed the teddy bear and the pink space helmet in the backseat beside Lisa. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said as Carole climbed in beside Mrs. Atwood. “Jamie, I hope you feel better.”
    “Yeah, Jamie,” Phil added. “Me too. Take care of yourself.”
    Frowning, Jamie turned his head away from them and stared out the window.
    “You two have fun,” said Carole as Mrs. Atwood started the car. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”
    Stevie and Phil waved, then headed back to the fair, hand in hand. Carole turned around and looked at Lisa and Jamie. Jamie’s face was deep pink and his eyelids fluttered as if he was about to fall asleep.
    “Gosh.” Carole frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t have given him all that junk food. We fed him everything they wereselling at the fair. Cotton candy, funnel cakes, Sno-Kones, and none of it had any kind of protein or vitamins. No wonder he threw up!”
    “I don’t know,” said Lisa, brushing Jamie’s bangs away from his clammy forehead. His eyes were closed, and he moaned sleepily. “I think he felt bad all morning. Remember how he was whining about the merry-go-round all day? That’s just not like him. I don’t think he would have acted like that if he hadn’t been sick to begin with.” She sighed. “I think all that junk food just made him feel a whole lot worse.”
    Carole shrugged. “I suppose. But who would have guessed he was sick? I thought he was just upset about the merry-go-round.”
    “Wait a minute,” Lisa said suddenly, squinting at a tiny red spot on Jamie’s neck. She pulled down the collar of his shirt, then lifted up the front of it. His stomach was covered in pin-sized red blisters. She looked up at Carole in alarm.
    “Unless Jamie’s got some kind of weird blister-shaped sunburn under his shirt, I think he’s got chicken pox!”
    “What?” cried Carole.
    “Mom!” Lisa tapped her mother on the shoulder. “Can you look at this?”
    Mrs. Atwood pulled off to the side of the road and stopped the car. She leaned over the seat and ran one finger gently over Jamie’s blotchy stomach. “Well, that’s exactly what they looked like when you and your brother had them,” she said.“I believe you’re right, Lisa. I think this child has chicken pox.”
    “Oh no,” Carole groaned. “He must have caught it at the stable. Remember when we talked to Max about Jamie riding Nickel? Somehow he must have caught it from Maxi.”
    “This is all my fault!” cried Lisa. “I was the one who suggested bringing Jamie to Pine Hollow in the first place. If I had just stayed at his house and baby-sat him there, this never would have happened. Now I have to tell his mother. I feel terrible!”
    “I’m sure Jamie’s mother will understand,” Mrs. Atwood said as she pulled back onto the highway. “Illnesses are just part of raising children. Parents have to be prepared for things like this to happen.”
    “But if it hadn’t been for me, it might not have happened for a long, long time,” Lisa replied miserably.
    Jamie squirmed on the seat, then leaned his head against Lisa’s shoulder. By the time they pulled into the Bacons’ driveway, he was sound asleep. Lisa gathered him up in her arms as Mrs. Atwood reached behind the seat and opened the door.
    “Do you want some help, Lisa?” Carole asked.
    “Yes. Could you bring in his teddy bear and the space helmet? And then hang around and give me some moral support?” Lisa dreaded telling