Mailbox Mania (2 page)

Hands flew up.

“Double dabble good,” Abby said. “Mr. Tressler's the one.”

Shawn stared at Abby. “Who will
decorate Hunter family mailbox? Four kids in Hunter family,” he said in broken English.

“Good question,” Abby said. “Any ideas?”

Eric raised his hand. “The four of you should work together. What's so hard about that?”

The rest of the kids agreed.

Abby glanced around. “Every Cul-de-sac Kid except Carly, Jimmy, Shawn, and me, is an only child. So the Hunter family will work together.”

Shawn and Jimmy clapped. “Yip-p-e-ee!”

Carly frowned. “That's too many kids for
one
mailbox. Way too many!”

Abby hoped her sister was wrong about that. She hoped with all her heart.

THREE

After lunch, they got started planning. Abby and Shawn, Carly and Jimmy Hunter.

They sat in the backyard under a shade tree. They sipped on lemonade and played with Snow White, their dog.

Abby began, “How should we decorate our mailbox?”

None of them knew.

“Any ideas?” She waited for her sister and brothers to respond.

None of them did.

“Don't we want to win the contest?” she asked.

Carly pouted. “You're the president of the Cul-de-sac Kids, NOT the president of the Hunter family.”

Now it was Abby's turn to frown. “Why'd you say
that
?”

Shawn shook his head. “This not working.”

“Just a minute!” Abby snapped. “Remember what Eric said? We have to work together.”

“Good luck,” Carly muttered.

“Let's choose a theme for our mailbox,” Abby said.

Shawn looked puzzled. “Like what?”

Abby thought. “The Statue of Liberty?”

“Too hard,” Carly said.

“We can try,” Shawn said. He smiled at Abby. “I will try.”

Carly shook her head. “Dumb idea.”

“Don't say dumb,” Abby replied.

“You're not the boss!” Carly stomped across the lawn. She sat on the back porch step.

Jimmy climbed a tree. “No contest for Hunter kids,” he said.

Snow White barked up at him.

Shawn told Jimmy to come down. He said it in Korean. Abby could tell he was mad. “We cannot plan this way,” he said. He glared up at Jimmy.

“I stay up here,” Jimmy shouted. “I not come down!”

Abby felt like a jitterbox. She reached for her notebook and pencil. And her lemonade. Then she stood up.

“Where you go?” Shawn asked her.

Abby brushed off her shorts. “Maybe you're right. This won't work.”

“But we try . . . and try,” Shawn replied.

Abby glanced toward the house. Carly was pouting on the porch.

Abby stared at the tree. Jimmy was
hanging upside down. “Looks like two against two,” she said.

Shawn nodded. “We find a way,” he said. “You see.”

“I don't know.” Abby sighed. “Maybe they should have Mailbox Mania without us.”

Shawn's eyes were kind. “You say, ‘Cul-de-sac Kids stick together,' well . . . Hunter family do, too.”

Abby sat down in the grass. She wanted to feel good about Mailbox Mania. She really wanted to.

But how could she when her family was fighting?

FOUR

The next day, Abby got up early.

She read her Bible. And prayed. “Dear Lord, help Carly and Jimmy. They aren't trying very hard to win the contest. Help us work together. Amen.”

At breakfast, Carly ate her pancakes with too much syrup. Even Mother noticed.

Jimmy slurped his milk. The sound bugged Abby. “Where are your manners?” she said.

“Where are yours?” he shot back.

“Children, please,” said Abby's mother.

Shawn was the only quiet one. Abby wished she had just one brother and no sister. Jimmy and Carly could go fly a kite!

Abby and Shawn helped clean up the kitchen. Then Abby went to Stacy's house.

“Let's go swimming,” Abby suggested.

“Can't,” Stacy said. “I'm working on my mailbox.”

“Oh, yeah. Lucky you!” Abby turned to go. She was heading home when Mr. Tressler came outside. He was swinging his cane as he walked.

“Hello there, missy,” Mr. Tressler called to her.

Abby waved. She ran across the street. “Can I talk to you?”

He smiled his wrinkled smile. “You're talking, aren't you?”

Abby explained all about Mailbox Mania. “We need a judge,” she said. “Someone who can be fair.”

He leaned on his cane. “Hm-m, sounds interesting.”

“Do you want the job?”

He rubbed his pointy chin. “What's the pay?”

“Very funny,” Abby said.

Mr. Tressler's eyes twinkled. “I'd be honored, Abby. When's the big day?”

“The Fourth of July.”

“I'll be there with bells on.”

Abby wondered,
Bells on?
Then she saw his smile and knew what he meant. “Thank you!”

Mr. Tressler waved his cane.

Abby felt good about Mr. Tressler doing the judging. But she wondered about her own mailbox. Could she get Carly and Jimmy to work on it? Would it be done in time?

The contest was only three days away!

“Maybe Shawn and I'll decorate by ourselves,” she said out loud. Excited, she rushed across the street—to her side of the cul-de-sac.

At that moment, Stacy came out of her house. She carried a shoebox full of paints, paper, glue, and scissors. An eager look spread across her face.

Abby waved to her. “Hi, Stacy!”

Stacy froze.

“What's wrong?” Abby asked.

Stacy hid the shoebox behind her back. “I . . . uh . . . I didn't want you to see this.”

Abby frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, I—” Stacy stopped.

“What?” Abby had a weird feeling.

“You won't steal my idea, will you?” Stacy asked.

Abby held her breath. She didn't say a word.

“Well, you won't, will you?” Stacy said.

Abby folded her arms across her chest. “You know me better than that, Stacy Henry!”

And she ran home.

FIVE

That night, Abby couldn't sleep.

Crackity-boom!
Early fireworks.

Something else kept her awake. Starting tomorrow there were only two days left. The Fourth of July—and Mailbox Mania—was coming fast!

It was late when Abby fell asleep. Her dreams popped with the sounds outside. In one dream, Jason was making popcorn in his mailbox. The hot sun beat down.

Ka-bang!
The mailbox exploded into
a giant popcorn ball.

Abby woke up. Caught in her covers. Too hot. She kicked them off and went back to sleep.

The next morning, Abby crept into Carly's room. Her closet door stood open. Carly was humming.

Inside the closet was a secret place. The sliding door led to a tiny space under the steps.

“Ps-s-t! Are you in there?” Abby called.

The humming stopped.

Rustle-rattle
.

Then—“Keep out!” Carly shouted.

Abby caught a glimpse of Carly. She was working on something. Probably something for Mailbox Mania.

Abby inched closer. “What are you doing?”

Carly hid whatever she was making. “Go away!”

“We have to talk,” Abby said.

“
I'm
not talking. And that's final.”

Abby sighed. “I know what you're doing, and it's not fair. We have to work together.”

“Nope,” Carly said. “I'm making my own mailbox creation. And you can't stop me!”

Abby stared.

Carly pouted.

“Fine,” Abby said at last. “We'll have Mailbox Mania without you.” And she turned to go.

“Mommy!” Carly yelled.

Abby shook her head as she hurried outside.
Such a baby!
she thought.

Across the street, Eric was working on his mailbox.

Abby watched him from her front porch. It looked like he was using green clay. A clay sculpture!

She stood up for a better look. It was the Lady of the Lamp, all right. The Statue of Liberty!