Kristy and the Mother's Day Surprise (9 page)

Chapter 11.

"We’re really, really going to the carnival!” exclaimed Jamie Newton, as my friends and I led the twenty-one kids along the sidewalks of Stoneybrook. “Oh, give me a comb,” he sang.

     
I looked around and smiled. The groups were staying together. (So far.) And oddly enough, my funny little group was working out nicely. Because Andrew had cried earlier, Shea was very protective of him. And Karen seemed to have a crush on Shea. She hung onto every word he said, and gazed at him as if he were a superhero. Shea was playing the part of their big brother.

     
From the other children around me came excited comments:

     
“I’m going to ride the ferris wheel!”

     
“Oh, I hope there’s a roller coaster!”

     
“I’m going to win a teddy bear for my sister.” (That was Jamie.)

     
“I wonder what a sideshow is.”

     
“Is there really such a thing as a bearded

lady?”

     
“My daddy told me there used to be a circus man named P.T. Barnum, who said there’s a sucker born every minute.”

     
“What’s that mean?”

     
A shrug. “Don’t know. . . I hope there’s cotton candy.”

     
At that point, Stacey turned to me and said, “How are we going to pay for all this? The kids want rides and food and tickets to the sideshow. I don’t blame them. I would, too, if I were their age, but. . . this morning is going to be expensive.”

     
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “First of all, we decided no food at the carnival. We want the kids to eat their own lunches later. Second, we found out how much most of the rides and attractions at Sudsy’s will cost and realized that we have enough money for each kid to do three things. And third,” (I grinned) “every single kid came with extra money — either part of his allowance, or a little something from one of his parents, so we don’t have to —“

     
“THERE IT IS!”

     
The shriek came from Jamie, who was at the head of the line with Claudia and the Perkins girls. We had rounded a corner, and in the huge parking lot behind Cane Playground was

Sudsy’s Carnival. It spread out before us, a wonderful, confusing mess of rides and booths, colors and smells, people, and even a few animals.

     
The kids looked overwhelmed, so we walked in slowly, trying to see everything at once. There were a ferris wheel, a merry-go-round, a whip ride, a train, a funhouse, and a spookhouse. At the midway were a penny pitch, a ring toss, a horserace game, a shooting gallery, and a fish pond for the littlest kids. The sideshow tent was set up at one end of the parking lot, and wandering among the crowds were a man selling oranges with candy straws in them, an organ-grinder with a monkey, and — Jamie’s precious clown selling balloons.

     
“Oh, my gosh,” whispered Shea Rodowsky, taking it all in.

     
Even he was impressed. I took that as a good sign.

     
Impressive as it was, though, the carnival wasn’t all that big. I mean, it was just set up in a parking lot. Still, there was plenty to see and do. Us sitters wondered where to start.

     
The kids solved the problem for us. Karen had spotted the spook house

     
“Please, please, please can we go in that haunted house?” she begged.

     
I hesitated. Would it be too scary? I glanced at my friends and they just shrugged.

     
What the heck? I thought. How bad could it be?

     
Sixteen of the kids wanted to walk through the haunted house. (Andrew, Archie Rodowsky, Suzi Barrett, and Gabbie Perkins were too young, and prissy Jenny announced that the house would probably be filthy dirty.) So Mary Anne stayed outside with them (she looked relieved), and the rest of us paid for our tickets and filed into the house.

     
“Where are the cars?” asked Karen. “What do we ride in?”

     
Not long ago, we had been to Disney World in Florida. We went on this incredible ride through a haunted mansion.

     
But that was Disney World, this was Sudsy’s.

     
“You just walk through this house, Karen,” 1 told her.

     
Karen looked disappointed, until we turned the first dark corner — and a ghost suddenly lit up before us. Shea, Buddy Barrett, Nicky Pike, and David Michael burst out laughing. A few kids gasped. Karen shrieked.

     
“It’s all right,” I told her, taking her hand.

     
We passed through the Death Chamber. “Cobwebs” swept over our faces. “Thunder”

roared overhead. And a very realistic-looking bolt of lightning zigzagged to the floor with a crackle and a crash.

     
“Let me out!” cried Karen, as a headless ghost floated by. “Let me out!”

     
“Karen, I can’t. We’re in the middle of the spook house. We have to keep going. There’s no other way out.”

     
“Oh, yes there is,” said an eerie voice. I almost screamed myself before I realized that the voice sounded weird because it was coming from behind a mask.

     
“I work here,” said a person dressed as a mummy. “There are exits all over the place. I can let you out if you want.”

     
“Karen?” I asked.

     
“Yes, please,” she replied, shivering. I tapped Claudia, who happened to be standing right behind me, and told her that Karen and I were leaving. “The rest of you will have to watch the kids. Karen and I will meet you at that bench near Mary Anne.”

     
“No problem,” replied Claudia. The groups were all mixed up, but it didn’t seem to matter.

     
The mummy discreetly opened a door in a pitch-black wall, and Karen and I followed him into the bright sunshine.

     
“Whew,” said Karen.

     
The mummy removed his mask. He was a

she.

     
“Thank you so much,” I said. “I guess we were a little panicky.” I was trying not to lay all the blame on Karen.

     
Karen looked at her feet in embarrassment anyway.

     
The mummy smiled. “My name’s Barbara,” she said. “And don’t feel bad. At least once a day, someone needs to use one of the special exit doors.” She knelt in front of Karen. “I’ll tell you some secrets,” she said.

     
Tell Karen secrets? That was like telling secrets to the National Broadcasting Company.

     
“I’ll tell you how they do the special effects,” Barbara went on, “but you have to promise never to reveal the secrets.”

     
Oh, brother, I thought. All of Stoneybrook would know within a week.

     
By the time we reached Mary Anne, the other kids were emerging from the haunted house. They were excited, and so was Karen, who was bursting with her precious knowledge.

     
“Rides! Rides! Let’s go on rides!” chanted Vanessa Pike.

     
The chant was taken up by the other kids, so we set out across the parking lot. Before we were halfway there we were stopped by —

     
“The balloon-seller!” exclaimed Jamie.

     
Only he turned out to be a balloon-giver. The clown handed a free Sudsy’s Carnival helium balloon to each kid. Then he walked away.

     
“What a nice man,” said Suzi Barrett. Us sitters began tying the balloons to the kids’ wrists and our own. Just before Mallory could tackle Jackie Rodowsky’s, it slipped out of his hand and floated away.

     
“Oh, Jackie,” cried Mallory in dismay, even though he is our walking disaster. We know to expect these things.

     
But Jackie didn’t look the least bit upset.

“My balloon is on its way to the moon, you know,” he said. “That’s where these things go.” He indicated the colorful garden of helium balloons around him.

     
“They go to the moon?” repeated Nina Marshall.

     
In a flash, the kids were slipping the balloons off their wrists.

     
“My balloon is going to the moon, too,” said Claire Pike.

     
“Yeah,” agreed Mynah Perkins.

     
“Not mine,” said Jamie firmly. “Mine is for Lucy.” He held out his wrist so Claudia could tie his balloon to it securely.

     
Balloonless (or almost balloonless) we reached

the rides. Suddenly, my friends and I could hear nothing but, “I’m going on the whip,” or, “I hope we get stuck at the top of the ferris wheel,” or, “Look, Gabbie, a train.”

     
I smiled. I kept smiling until I heard a voice say, “Please let me go on the whip with you, Nicky.”

“No way,” he replied.

     
“No way is right, Margo.” I looked around for Mallory. “Mal,” I said urgently, running over to her and her purple group, “Margo wants to go on the whip.”

“No. Oh, no.”

     
Margo is famous for her motion sickness. She gets airsick, carsick, seasick, you name it. So you can see why the whip was not a good idea.

     
Mallory ran to her sister. “Mango,” she said in a no-nonsense voice, “you can’t go on any rides.”

     
Margo’s face puckered up. “But everyone else is going on something. Even the little kids are going to ride on the train.”

     
The train was pretty lame. All it did was travel slowly around a track in a circle. The kids sat in the cars and rang bells.

     
“Hey,” said Mallory, “you could go on the train, Mango. That wouldn’t make you sick. At least, I don’t think so.”

     
“The train is for babies!” cried Margo, looking offended.

     
Mallory and her sister watched the rest of us kids and sitters line up for the rides we’d chosen. At last Mal said, “We-eli. . . maybe you could ride the merry-go-round, Margo. You can sit on one of those fancy benches. I don’t want you on a horse that goes up and down.”

     
“All right,” agreed Margo, brightening.

     
Mallory accompanied her sister on the carousel. They sat on a red-and-gold bench. The music started. The ride began. It went faster and faster until — “Mallory,” said Mango suddenly, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel too good.”

     
The words were barely out of her mouth before Mango’s breakfast was all over the floor of the merry-go-round.

     
The Sudsy’s people were not too happy. Neither was Stacey, who had seen the whole thing and can’t stand the sight of barf.

     
It was time for quieter activities. We left the rides. Some of the kids played games and won prizes. Jamie tried desperately to win a teddy bear for Lucy, but all he could get was a squirt gun.

     
The younger kids had their faces made up.

     
Mallory and Margo sat in the first-aid tent.

     
Jessi’s group peeked into the sideshow tent and decided it looked like a rip-off.

     
By 12:15, half of the kids were begging for cotton candy and popcorn, so we left Sudsy’s. It was on to Cane Playground for lunch.

Chapter 12.

"But. . . but. . . box is not at planet. No, I mean is at planet, but where are my forks? And TV people. I try to watch Wheel of Fortune, and TV people are bother me. Will not leave alone.”

     
I glanced at Claudia. My friends and I and the children had just reached Carle Playground, and there were Mr. Kishi, Mimi, and our lunches.

     
And as you must have guessed by now, Mimi was having some trouble again. I think it was because she wasn’t quite sure why she was at a playground with her son-in-law, her granddaughter, her granddaughter’s friends, twenty-one children, and twenty-eight lunches. It could confuse anybody.

     
I gave Mimi a kiss and told her not to worry about the TV people.

     
Mimi flashed me an odd look. “TV people? What TV people? We have lunch to hand out.

Better begin. Big job. Where is my Claudia?” Mimi fades in and out.

     
I located Claudia. Then Mr. Kishi, Mimi, and my friends and I handed out the lunches. Very reluctantly, I put Mango’s in her hands.

     
“How are you feeling?” I asked her, as she climbed onto a bench between her sisters.

     
“Hungry?” she replied, as if she didn’t expect me to believe her.

     
“Really?”

     
“Honest.”

     
“Okay,” I said doubtfully. “But eat very, very slowly.”

     
Mango nodded seriously. “I will.”

     
Mr. Kishi and Mimi slid into the car then and drove back to their house.

     
The twenty-eight of us sat down and began eating night away. (We were starving.) We took up three entire picnic tables. I looked at my ned group. Andrew, with a purple juice mustache, was munching away at his tuna-fish sandwich. Shea, a doughnut in one hand and an apple in the other, was watching Andrew fondly.

     
“I bet you’re going to eat that whole sandwich, aren’t you?” he said to Andrew. “That’s really great. If you do, you might get muscles as big as Popeye’s.”

     
And Karen was just gazing adoringly at Shea.

At one point she said, “You know how they

— “but she clapped her hand over her mouth. I knew she had almost given away one of the secrets she learned at the spook house. I’m sure she thought it would be a really terrific “gift” for Shea.