Read The Girls Take Over Online
Authors: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
“How about if you eat in your room for a week and get only bread and water?” Mr. Hatford said finally. “What's wrong with you, anyway? You're making the whole family upset.”
“He's mad at Eddie,” Peter volunteered, and Wally elbowed him.
“Pipe down,” muttered Jake.
“Now, what could a girl do to put you in such a foul mood, Jake?” asked his mother.
“She struck him out two times!” said Peter.
“Ah!” said Mr. Hatford. “So that's it.”
“Well, what do you expect? Her dad's a coach,” said Jake. “Why couldn't
you
have been a coach, Dad, instead of a mail carrier?”
“Well, son,” said his father, “that's the way the ball bounces. And your going around mad at Eddie Malloy isn't going to make you a better player. Maybe if you'd pay attention to the way she pitches and the way she swings, you'd learn a little something.”
“Oh, I'm not really mad at her, I just hate her guts, that's all,” said Jake. And he angrily attacked his scalloped potatoes.
Wally was never too good at sports himself, but he knew what it felt like to be jealous of someone. To feel that life was against you. To feel as though you'd like to catch the first bus out of town and never come back.
Josh wasn't much help because he was working on maps for geography, and when Josh made a map, it wasn't just the basic stuff; he put in mountains and rivers and all kinds of things the teacher hadn't required, just because he was so good at drawing. He only half listened to Jake's complaints.
It was Wally who sat on the sofa beside Jake after dinner and tried to think of something to cheer him up.
“She could always get sick before a big game, and then you'd pitch the whole time,” Wally said.
“Eddie never gets sick. She's as strong as a horse. She's made out of steel or something,” said Jake.
“She could trip sometime running bases and break her ankle,” said Wally.
“Get real,” said Jake.
The phone rang just then and Wally answered.
“If it's Eddie, I don't want to talk to her,” said Jake. “Hello?” said Wally. “Is this the home of Jake Hatford?” asked a man's voice.
Wally hesitated. Was this more bad news or what? What had Jake done now?
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Well, I thought he'd like to hear I found a bottle with his name in it, and I'm just calling to let him know,” the man said pleasantly.
“Oh! Just a minute!” said Wally. “Jake! Someone found your bottle! Take the phone!”
Jake leaped up from the couch, tripping on his sneakers on the rug, and grabbed the phone.
“Hello?” he said. “Yeah … ?Yeah … ? Where did you find it?”
There was a long silence. Wally watched his brother, hoping for any piece of good news that might make him feel better. If one of their bottles could get past Hall at least, then Caroline wouldn't be queen.
“Oh,” Jake was saying. Then, “Thanks a lot.” He hung up.
“What did he say?” Wally asked. “Where did he find it?”
“It was stuck in the roots of a tree, and he found it when he went fishing,” Jake said.
“But where?”
“Just under the road bridge to the business district,” said Jake. He clomped upstairs, went into his room, and slammed the door.
Well, at least he didn't lie about it, Wally thought. He
could
have said the man found it in Cincinnati. But scarcely had the thought entered his mind when Jake came running down the stairs again.
“Hey, Wally, just forget I said that, huh? It wasn't the business district at all. It was over by the Ohio River.”
“Jake, it was not. You're lying,” Wally told him.
“What do
you
care? Do you want one of the girls to boss us around for a day?”
“I'm not lying for you, and that's that,” said Wally.
“You don't have to lie. Just keep your mouth shut,” said Jake.
“I won't do that either, and besides, it would never work,” Wally told him.
“Why not?”
“Because you didn't ask the man what else was in the bottle. And if you can't name the secret thing the girls put inside it, it doesn't count.”
Jake clutched at his head, moaned, kicked a chair, and for the second time went upstairs and slammed the door.
And Wally thought of another rule they'd have to add to the list: Whenever somebody got a phone call saying a bottle had been found, that person had to get a phone number for the caller, so that the others could check up on it. This was getting complicated!
Seventeen
Inspection
W
hen Caroline and her sisters got to school the following Monday and walked inside, there was a huge banner in the hall above the doors to the auditorium: BUCKMAN ELEMENTARY HAS READ 1000 BOOKS!!!
On a large sheet of computer paper taped to the wall beneath were the names of all the students who had read a book in the past month, along with the titles each had read. Beth's name, of course, was at the very top, with the highest number: thirteen.
“Yeah, Beth! Way to go!” Eddie told her. “The girls are taking over!”
“What do you think, Wally?” Caroline said when she got to her room. “Are the Malloys good, or are we
good
?”
Wally only groaned. He didn't even turn around.
After “The Star-Spangled Banner” had been played over the classroom speakers and the Pledge of
Allegiance had been said, the principal's voice was heard: “Congratulations, Buckman students! Over one thousand books! I knew you could do it! And you reached our goal a week early! That means that when April is over, you will have read even more than a thousand books!”
Everybody clapped, and Caroline could hear the applause traveling up and down the hall from other classrooms. The principal went on: “I've been looking over the slips you've turned in, with the names of the books you've read. I see mystery, adventure, humor, and suspense. You've read historical books and nonfiction books and poetry and science fiction. I hope you have been introduced to whole new worlds—new places to explore—and that this will lead to a lifetime of reading enjoyment.
“And now I know you are all wondering when I will spend the night on the roof. It's already on my calendar, folks! Since the county spelling bee is going to be held the evening of Saturday, April twenty-eighth, I will be up on the roof on April twenty-ninth, rain or shine. I'll bring my tent and sleeping bag and, of course, a flashlight and a favorite book to keep me company. And when you come to school the next day, you can stand out on the playground and watch me eat my bowl of Wheaties in my pajamas.”
Everyone laughed.
“So congratulations again, and especially to our very top winner, with thirteen books to her credit for the month—fifth grader Beth Malloy!”
There was more applause, and Caroline whispered, “What do you think, Wally? Aren't we great?”
But before Wally could answer, the principal went on: “I am
especially
proud of our school this spring— the thousand books, the Buckman Badgers, and all the wonderful winners of our school spelling bee who will participate in the county contest.” Here he read off the winner in each classroom. When he came to Wally's name, everyone in Miss Applebaum's class clapped and cheered, and Caroline didn't poke Wally in the back this time. She even forced herself to clap too. Anyone who had looked as miserable with chicken pox as Wally had, she decided, deserved some applause.
When all the announcements were over, however, and the teacher was collecting lunch money, everyone began talking about the principal and whether or not he would actually spend the night on the roof.
“Do you think he'll really stay up there the whole night?” someone asked.
“I'll bet if it rains he won't,” answered Caroline.
Wally turned around. “I'll bet he goes up there around seven with everyone watching, and about midnight he goes home and sleeps in his own bed.”
“Well, I hope there's a thunderstorm and hail,” a girl said.
“A tornado!” said somebody else, and everyone laughed.
Caroline leaned forward till her mouth was right
next to Wally's ear. “You know what might be fun to do, Wally? The Hatfords and the Malloys together? We could sneak over to the school about midnight and see if he's there.”
And Wally whispered back, “Maybe we will.”
At nine o'clock in the morning on the last Saturday of the month, the Hatford boys and the Malloy girls met at the police station, and Jake told Sergeant Bogdan that the girls had put him in charge of the Dirt Squad; he would make sure that everyone did a good job, and the place would be in top shape for the inspection.
“Good!” the sergeant said. “We're expecting Chief Decker at noon.” He led Jake around the reception area, the others tagging along. “See this tile floor? It's been mopped, but it hasn't been scrubbed, really scrubbed, for years. I want this floor to gleam—every square inch of it. That'll mean getting down on your hands and knees with scrub brushes, poking in all the corners. The rest room needs cleaning again, the front window needs washing, and all the chairs along the wall over there need to be wiped down …. The little room we use for a kitchen needs a good cleaning—the microwave, the small fridge, the sink … ”
He handed a list to Jake—all the work to be done from the front door of the station right back to the door to the holding cells—and when he'd returned to his desk, Jake faced the others. “Okay. Josh, you and I
will do the chairs and window. Wally, you and Peter sweep the sidewalk out front and wipe off all the door-knobs. Eddie and Beth will get down on their hands and knees and scrub the floor, and Caroline will clean the rest room again, paying special attention to the toilet. When you're through with the floor, Eddie, do the kitchen.”
Caroline could hardly stand it. “Wally does door-knobs and I do the toilet again?” she whimpered.
“It was you who got us into this, so you get the elephant's share,” said Jake without pity.
“This floor is disgusting,” Beth said after the boys had scattered to do their jobs. “There's even chewing gum stuck to it in places.”
“Don't worry,” Eddie told her. “It'll be worth it.” She winked.
“You don't think we'll get in trouble over this?” Beth asked.
“Why would we?” Eddie grinned. “Jake's in charge, remember?”
Jake came by with the Windex. “What's so funny?” he asked.
“We're just telling jokes to make the time go faster,” Eddie said.
“Well, don't forget to do the corners,” he instructed.
“Yes,
sir
!” Eddie said, and gave a mock salute.