“Mom?” said Ira, pausing in the doorway to the living room.
Mrs. Rosso looked up, concerned. “Ira? Are you sick, honey?”
“No,” he replied, and then he burst into tears.
Mr. Rosso turned off the TV set, and Ira told his parents everything about Miss Price and his classmates and the animal stories. “I just wanted the kids to like me,” he finished up.
“And now they want to see the animals,” Mr. Rosso said thoughtfully.
Ira nodded. He was cuddled up between his parents on the couch, but he felt miserable. “I want Roger to come over, but he’ll find out we don’t have a tarantula or a snake or a bobcat.”
The Rossos were quiet for several moments. At last Mrs. Rosso said, “Would you like me to talk to Miss Price for you, honey?”
Ira heaved a great sigh. “Yes, please,” he replied.
“All right. I’ll call her after school tomorrow.”
* * *
On Thursday, Mrs. Rosso made her call, and on Friday, Ira jumped off the school bus and ran to Miss Price’s room so he could be the first one there. Miss Price was waiting for him.
“Hi,” said Ira sheepishly.
“Hi, Ira,” Miss Price answered. “I spoke to your mother.”
“I know. Are you mad?”
Miss Price smiled. “Maybe I’m a little bit mad at the stories you told, but I’m not mad at you. Do you understand, though? No more storytelling?”
“Never,” said Ira.
“Now,” Miss Price went on, “we have to straighten things out with the other kids. And I think the only thing to do is tell them the truth.”
Ira swallowed hard. “Mom told me about that, too. I don’t want to do it.”
“It may not be as bad as you think. I’d like you to try it during sharing time today. Then you can tell the whole class. You’ll only have to say it once.”
“Okay,” Ira finally agreed reluctantly, but his knees felt like water.
At sharing time that day Duncan Fox told how his dog Jupiter was learning fancy tricks like the dogs on TV could do. April Ingram said that her parents were taking her to Disney World for her birthday. When April was finished, Miss Price turned to Ira. “Don’t you have something you’d like to share?” she said.
Ira’s cheeks burned bright pink. He stood up very slowly. “Yes,” he replied.
The class started to whisper. Ira could hear the kids saying things like “another new animal” and “maybe the lion cub came.”
Ira faced his classmates. “Um,” he said, “I want to say that I — I don’t have any animals.” Ira glanced at Miss Price, who nodded at him encouragingly, but his tongue felt like it was glued into his mouth with peanut butter. “I made that up,” he continued. “There are no animals at all on our farm. Not even regular farm animals.”
“What?” someone exclaimed.
Ira felt tears coming to his eyes, but he told himself not to cry. Crying would be worse than all the stories he had told. He drew in a deep, shaky breath.
“My mom won’t let us get a pet. She says ten kids is enough…. I’m sorry. I just wanted … just wanted”— Ira’s voice was dropping —” you to like me,” he finished in a whisper. He dropped into his seat and buried his head in his arms.
For a moment the class was silent. Ira waited for the laughter to start. Instead, Duncan Fox raised his hand.
“Yes, Duncan?” said Miss Price.
“Jupiter isn’t really learning any TV tricks,” he said. “I just made that up because Ira always has such good things to share.”
Ira dared to look up.
Andy Asher raised his hand. “Well, I really do have Laser Tag,” he said, “but my mom and dad gave it to me because they won’t get me a pet either. I want Ira to come over and play sometime. I don’t care if he has animals or not.”
Ira beamed. The knot in his stomach disappeared. “Sure,” he replied. And when school was over that afternoon, he invited both Roger and Andy to his house to go wading in the brook. “We really do have a brook,” he added. “Honest.”
Green slime, Woody was thinking. Monster warts, toadstool juice, Dracula’s fangs … What a waste.
Dagwood Rosso stood in Zinder’s Dime Store. He was surrounded by makeup and mustaches, warts and wigs, capes and costumes. It was almost Halloween, Woody’s favorite time of year.
“But what a waste,” he said out loud. “All this great stuff and no reason to wear it.”
“Isn’t your homeroom having a party in school?” asked Hardy, fingering a little bottle of fake blood.
“Yeah, but big deal,” replied Woody. “So someone’s mother brings in cupcakes or something. That’s kid stuff. I want to go trick-or-treating the way we used to in New York. Hey, maybe we could go back to New York for Halloween.”
“Don’t count on it,” said Bainbridge, coming up behind his brothers.
“I’ll say,” added Abbie.
Woodie scowled. What a rip-off. In New York, where the Rossos knew most of their neighbors, all they had to do was go to each apartment building on their block, and they ended up with a whole bag of candy. That’s how many people lived nearby. But here in new Jersey they couldn’t even see their closest neighbors from their house. We could walk twenty miles and come back with three Hershey bars, thought Woody crossly.
He wished his mother would hurry up and finish her shopping so the Rossos could go home and he wouldn’t have to torture himself anymore by looking at the costumes. He wandered to the front of the store and stood by the doorway, watching the sidewalk outside so he’d be sure to see his mother the moment she appeared.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Hannah. “Didn’t you find a costume?” Hannah was standing at the cash register, paying for a wart and a pair of green rubber hands. Every year she dressed up as a witch, and every year her costume got a little better.
“There’s no point,” replied Woody. “We can’t go trick-or-treating, and in middle school you don’t dress up for class parties. There’s not enough time.” Woody didn’t know whether that was true. He had just made it up. But it sounded good.
“Gosh,” said Hannah, serious for once. “That’s awful. You mean in three years there won’t be any point to my witch costume?” She paused. Then she blurted out, “Well, why don’t we ask Mom if we can give a Halloween party?”
“Huh?”
“A party. For our friends. At our house. We can have prizes for costumes, and we’ll play games and give out candy. It won’t be like trick-or-treating, but it would be fun. Quick, get everyone to agree before Mom comes.”
“Okay,” replied Woody, feeling slightly awed. A Halloween party really could be fun. It wouldn’t be like trick-or-treating, but it would be a whole lot better than just sitting at his desk eating a cupcake with a pumpkin face on it. Woody began to think of all the things they could do at a Halloween party. His heart began to beat faster. He ran off in search of the other kids.
Woody found Jan in the toy department looking at a stuffed cat.
“Will you buy this for me, Woody?” she begged.
“Can’t,” he replied. “Where’s Ira?”
“Over there.” Jan pointed to the candy counter.
“Come on. We have to round everyone up.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” Woody grabbed his sister by the wrist, got Ira by the other wrist, and led them back to the aisle where the Halloween supplies were displayed. Hannah had found Faustine, Gardenia, and Candy. And Hardy, Abbie, and Bainbridge were right where Woody had left them.
“What’s going on?” asked Abbie.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Hannah. “Let’s ask Mom if we can have a Halloween party at our house. Wouldn’t that be great? We can’t go trick-or-treating, and Halloween’s on a Friday this year … isn’t it? Think of all the stuff we could do.”
“You mean like bob for apples?” asked Dinnie.
Her twin nudged her. “Globark.”
Dinnie nudged he
r back, shaking her head. “En cad sam.”
They looked at each other seriously, identical freckled faces.
Dagwood frowned. He never knew what to make of the twins.
“Anyway,” Hannah continued, “we could give out prizes for costumes.”
“We could have a fortune-teller!” exclaimed Candy. “We’ll make Mom dress up in a turban and lots of jewelry!”
“Yeah!” agreed the others.
“Will there be candy?” asked Jan.
“Sure,” replied Hannah.
It was at that point in the conversation that Woody had a great idea. He didn’t know where it had come from, but it was one of the best ideas of his life. “You guys,” he said slowly. “You know what? We could make a spook house in the basement. Hang cobwebs from the ceiling, rig up ghosts, make the kids touch peeled grapes and tell them they’re eyeballs —”
“Woody, you’re a genius!” Abbie exclaimed. “Boy, this is going to be the best Halloween ever!”
“You think so?” Woody replied.
“I hope so,” she said.
“Hey, everybody,” Bainbridge spoke up, “get ready. Here comes Mom.”
The Rossos took their cue from their biggest brother. He knew what to do in any situation. They could count on him for that. Bainbridge pretended to be examining an eyepatch with great interest. The others turned back to the display.
Woody found that he didn’t have to pretend to be interested in the costumes. If they were going to have a party, then he’d need one after all, and he wanted it to be really great.
He wanted to be Kromar the Magnificent, the World’s Most Dazzling Magician.
“Hi, kids,” said Mrs. Rosso.
“Oh, Mom,” Bainbridge replied. “Are you done already? We didn’t know you were here.”
“I’m done. Have you all finished your shopping?”
“Yes,” replied Bainbridge, sounding dejected. “We didn’t buy much. Didn’t see the point.”
Woody caught on immediately. “I’m not buying anything,” he announced. “I won’t be needing a costume this year.”
“But Woody!” Mrs. Rosso looked concerned. “You love Halloween.”
“I know.” Woody hung his head. “We can’t go trick-or-treating, though. Our neighbors are too spread out. And in school we’re just going to have a dumb old class party.”
“It’s too bad there’s not even a school party — a big one — that kids of all ages could go to,” added Abbie.
“It is too bad,” Mrs. Rosso agreed, shepherding her children out of the store.
“Hey!” said Bainbridge, as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Maybe we could have our own party…. Nah.”
“What do you mean ‘nah’?” said Mrs. Rosso. “Bainbridge, that’s a great idea. It would help you get to know some more kids. If each of you invited two friends, let’s see, that would be thirty people….” Mrs. Rosso was standing by the door to the van, gazing above her, lost in thought.
Woody turned to Bainbridge and secretly, excitedly, gave him the thumbs-up sign. Bainbridge grinned back.
* * *
By that evening it was settled. Mrs. Rosso had mentioned the party to Mr. Rosso, who of course had agreed to the idea. Actually, Woody wasn’t sure his father had heard the question. He’d been poring over his plans for the wall unit he was finally going to build. Mrs. Rosso had made several valiant attempts to capture his attention and had finally given up.
“So a party with thirty children is all right with you?” she had asked.
“Mmm.”
Mrs. Rosso took that as a yes.
Woody was beside himself with excitement. “Kromar the Magnificent,” he told Hardy. “That’s who I’m going to be. We’ll have to make another trip to Zinder’s. I need that top hat I saw there, and a wand — maybe one of those wands that collapses when you hand it to some — Hey! Hey! Oh, wow! I just had another great idea!”
“What?” asked Hardy.
“Jan! She hasn’t made up her mind about a costume. She never knows what she wants to be. I’ll ask her to dress up as my assistant! She can wear, oh, one of those leotard things….”
Woody’s mind was racing. Halloween was only three weeks away. There was so much to do.
Over the next two weeks, piece by piece, Woody put together his Kromar costume. There was a box of old clothes, mostly bits and pieces of past Halloween costumes, in the attic of the Rossos’ new house. In it Woody found a cape, a black cummerbund, and a snappy black bow tie. If he put them on with his white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes, he’d look dashing and mysterious. At Zinder’s he did buy the hat and a collapsible wand, as well as a red paper carnation to pin to his shirt.
Jan agreed to be his assistant. It solved the problem of what costume to choose, and she liked the idea of dressing up in something sparkly. Mrs. Rosso found an old leotard and sewed sequins all over it. Then Woody and Jan glued glitter to a pair of tights. Furthermore, Jan got to wear her black patent-leather party shoes, something she always looked forward to with great anticipation.
So Woody was set — sort of. “I just have the feeling I’m missing something,” he told Hardy one night.
Hardy looked up from the Hardy Boys mystery he was reading. “Missing something?” Missing items were of great interest to him. “What is it? I bet I can find it for you.”
“No, you can’t,” Woody told him, “because I don’t know what it is I’m missing. My costume just needs something more, that’s all. It’s a good costume, but … I think I need a prop.”
“You’ve got a prop,” said Hardy. “You’ve got two. You’ve got the wand and Jan.”
“I know, I know.” Woody frowned. He was sure he was missing something.
His problem was solved in school the next day.
When Woody entered his homeroom, the first thing he saw, propped on a desk in the second row, was a sign painted on white oaktag: FREE RABBITS, it said. SIGN UP NOW. At the bottom was a picture of a pink-eyed, cotton-tailed bunny.
A rabbit! Woody thought. Perfect.
Woody approached the desk. “Hi, Bart,” he said to the boy behind the sign.
“Hi, Woody.” Bart peered at Woody through glasses as thick as the petri dishes they used in science class.
“You’ve got rabbits? asked Woody.
“Yup,” replied Bart. “Fluffer-Nut just had another litter. She keeps having them. My mom says I either have to find homes for all the babies or get rid of Fluffer-Nut.”
“Whoa,” said Woody slowly.
“You want one?” asked Bart hopefully.
“Well … I was wondering if I could just borrow one.”
“You want to borrow a baby rabbit?”
“Only for one night.”
“But I have to give these rabbits away. I don’t want them back. How come you want to borrow one?”
“Because my mom won’t let us have a pet. But on Halloween my brothers and sisters and I are going to have a party, and I’m going to be Kromar the Magnificent, a magician. And a magician needs a rabbit to pull out of his hat. By the way, you’re invited to the party.” Woody hadn’t intended to ask Bart to the party, but Bart was nice enough, and Woody knew him as well as he knew any of the other boys in his class. He also knew that serious, bespectacled Bart (who tended to spit when he said his s’s) wasn’t very popular and would probably be thrilled with the invitation — and therefore more apt to lend Fluffer-Nut’s baby to him.
“I’m invited?” Bart repeated, his voice rising to a squeak.
“Sure,” replied Woody generously. “So can I borrow one of Fluffer-Nut’s babies?”
“I guess so,” said Bart. “I’ll bring one with me when I come to the party.”
So it was settled. Woody was confident that he’d have one of the best costumes at the party. Furthermore, he would have a pet for one night.
* * *
On Halloween afternoon every single Rosso made a beeline for the school buses, and
as soon as they were dropped off, ran up the long driveway to the farmhouse. Woody, Candy, and Bainbridge were the last to arrive. As the middle-school bus drove off and they dashed to the house, Woody noticed two maple trees, each with only half of its yellow leaves left, silhouetted against the darkening sky. The smell of hickory smoke was in the air, and since the temperature had been dropping steadily all day, Woody could see his breath for the first time that fall. The moon was going to be full that night. It hung palely in the sky now but later would turn an orange almost as brilliant as the pumpkin sitting on the front porch.
“We’re here!” cried Woody as they crashed through the door and tossed their things in the back hall.
“Great,” said Mrs. Rosso, looking up from a plate of sandwiches she was fixing. “There are all sorts of things to be done. Abbie and the twins are decorating the family room. I need someone to help me with the food, Jan needs someone to help her with her costume, and Woody, you better get to work in the basement….”
“Sure,” replied Woody, but first he wandered through the house just looking around. He felt more excited with every step he took. A grinning jack-o’-lantern sat in the hallway by the front door. Someone had suspended several paper bats from the ceiling. In the family room orange and black crepe paper was strung from side to side and corner to corner, and a bunch of orange and black balloons was tied in the very middle of the room.
Woody finally went to the basement but not until after he had recruited Bainbridge, Hardy, and Hannah to help him with the spook house. Following Woody’s eager directions, they wound a rope from pole to pole, from dryer to work table, forming a “walk” to follow through the darkened room. Woody had worked hard planning the spook house. It would be lit only by flashlights shining through gruesome masks. The guests would feel cobwebs on their faces, hear the “haunted house” track from Woody’s sound effects tape, and generally be scared silly.
Ten Kids, No Pets Page 4