Margaret & Taylor (3 page)

“Too bad,” said Margaret. “I was just thinking of all the things we could do with our balloons. We could draw ugly faces on them and then walk under windows, so the faces would scare the people inside.”

Taylor tried not to listen.

“Or,” said Margaret, “we could write secret messages and sign our names and address, tie them to the balloons, and send them off. Then we'd get mail from faraway places.”

The more Margaret talked, the worse Taylor felt.

“Or,” said Margaret, “we could pretend the balloons were real people—brother and sister. We could use yarn for hair and dress them in old clothes.

“But now
you
can't,” said Margaret. “You should be more careful.”

Taylor didn't say anything. He just looked at Margaret's balloon.

From inside the house, Father called, “Time for bed, you two.”

Margaret untied her balloon on the way in.

“See?” she said. “Even untied, if you're
very
careful and hold on tight, nothing can happen.”

When Margaret opened the door, their dog Chopper jumped up on her.

“Look out!” cried Margaret. But her balloon got away. Margaret ran down the steps after it, but it was too high and too far away to catch. She watched her balloon until she couldn't see it any longer. Then Margaret yelled at Chopper and ran inside the house.

“It's okay,” said Taylor, petting Chopper. “Maybe the balloons really were brother and sister. And now they can be together.”

M
argaret saved a piece of cake from Grandpa's party. She put it under her bed and took it out the next morning for breakfast.

In the kitchen, Taylor was already eating his oatmeal. But when he saw Margaret's cake, he wanted it.

“It's mine,” said Margaret. “You had yours last night.”

“But I just had a little piece,” said Taylor, “not half as big as that. And you had some too!”

“Did I?”
said Margaret. “Why don't you pretend that your oatmeal is birthday cake? The oatmeal can be the chocolate part. The milk can be the frosting. The sugar can be the squiggles. And you can imagine all the yellow roses.”

Taylor added lots of frosting.

He put on lots of squiggles.

He imagined lots of yellow roses.

Then he took a taste and thought hard. But no matter how hard he tried, his oatmeal just tasted like oatmeal.

Margaret looked at the cake. She looked at Taylor looking at the cake.

“I'll make a deal,” she said, smiling. “I'll give you a piece if you give me your dessert at dinner tonight.”

Taylor looked at the cake. He looked at the oatmeal. He tasted the oatmeal again. It was cold, so he said, “Yes!”

“I have to be fair,” said Margaret. “Your piece should fit your size.”

First she cut the cake in half. She cut it in half again. Then she took one of the small pieces and cut it once more.

“Here,” she said, “this looks like your size.”

Margaret set the piece of cake next to Taylor.

Taylor looked at the cake. It looked more like a crumb. There wasn't much frosting. There were no yellow roses.

Just then the phone rang. It was Margaret's friend Dodie, asking her to go swimming.

Margaret ran upstairs to ask Mother. She changed into her swimsuit and ran out the door.

She didn't even say good-bye to Taylor.

Margaret forgot about the cake.

But Taylor didn't.

M
argaret took her hat from Grandpa's party and tied a string to its tassel. Then she took her gum and stuck it to the other end of the string. She climbed up her dresser and stuck the gum to the ceiling. The hat dangled down.

“What is that?” asked Taylor.

“This is my friend Lillian,” said Margaret. “She was at Grandpa's party, but you couldn't see her. She's invisible most of the time.”

“Can you see her?” asked Taylor.

“Of course,” said Margaret.

“I can see her hat,” said Taylor.

“That's because I told her to show it to you,” said Margaret. “But I bet you can't see her long curly hair or her diamond rings or her purple shoes.”