Ramona Forever by Beverly Cleary

will move away to southeastern Oregon,” she confided.
    â€œHey, that would be neat,” said Howie. “They have wild horses down there. Maybe you could send me one.”
    Ramona was offended. Howie wouldn’t even miss her. “I wouldn’t send you one even if I could catch it,” she informed him.
    Howie understood. “I didn’t mean I wouldn’t miss you,” he said. “I only meant if you have to leave and if catching a horse would be easy.”
    Since no more offers of teaching positions arrived, no matter how often the family looked in the mailbox, Ramona saw that moving from Klickitat Street was a very real possibility.
    One afternoon before Howie arrived, the telephone rang. Ramona beat Beezus to answering it.
    â€œRamona?” It was Willa Jean.
    â€œWilla Jean!” Ramona was astonished. “I didn’t know you knew how to dial.”
    â€œUncle Hobart showed me,” explained Willa Jean. “Ramona, come back and play with me. Please. It’s lonesome here with Grandma.”
    Ramona felt sad and guilty. “I’m sorry, Willa Jean, I can’t. Maybe your Uncle Hobart will play with you.”
    â€œHe’s not around much,” said Willa Jean. “He has a girlfriend, and anyway, he’s a grown-up.”
    â€œI know,” said Ramona, meaning she knew he was a grown-up, not that he had a girlfriend.
    â€œGood-by.” Willa Jean, who had nothing more to say, hung up.
    Ramona sighed. She remembered what it was like to be the littlest child in the neighborhood. She remembered all too well the days back in kindergarten when she wasknown as Ramona the Pest. Maybe she could ask Howie to bring Willa Jean over to play sometime when her mother stopped working. Nursery school had done Willa Jean a world of good, as all the grown-ups except Mrs. Kemp said. Mrs. Kemp thought Willa Jean was perfect to begin with.
    On the bus the next morning, Ramona sat beside Howie. “Willa Jean says your Uncle Hobart has a girlfriend.”
    â€œYeah.” Howie wasn’t much interested. “Some teacher.”
    A terrible suspicion crossed Ramona’s mind. “What teacher?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Howie. “He acts like it’s a big secret. Maybe she has two heads or something.”
    Ramona was silent all the way to school. She had that sinking feeling she always felt when she rode down in an elevator. She knew—she just knew —that Howie’s unclewas seeing her aunt. She didn’t know why she knew, but she knew.
    After school, Ramona confided her fears to her sister, who said, “Oh, I don’t think that could be—Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Hobart.” She spoke so doubtfully that Ramona knew Beezus thought she might be right.
    â€œMaybe that’s what the big secret is. Mom doesn’t want us to know because we don’t like Uncle Hobart. She thinks we might say something to Aunt Beatrice.”
    â€œOh well,” said Ramona, “he’ll have to go back to Saudi Arabia sometime. Then we’ll be rid of him.”
    â€œI wonder what happened to Michael,” Beezus thought aloud.
    Then one Sunday Mrs. Quimby told the girls to set two extra places at the table for dinner.
    â€œWho’s coming?” asked Ramona.
    â€œYour Aunt Bea and a friend.” Mrs.Quimby was smiling.
    â€œWhat friend?” demanded both girls.
    â€œOh, just a friend,” answered their maddening mother.
    â€œA man?” asked Beezus.
    â€œGirls, I really don’t have time to play guessing games.” Mrs. Quimby turned her attention to something on the stove.
    â€œIt’s a man.” Ramona was positive. “It’s Howie’s uncle.”
    Mrs. Quimby looked startled. “How did you know?”
    â€œOh, a little bird told me.” Ramona tried to sound as annoying as any grown-up.
    Beezus was indignant. “You mean Aunt Bea is bringing that