“Me?” Oliver said, pointing to himself. “I’m innocent!”
“Or are you?” Jessie said, gesturing to his notebook. “Go on, write your name on the list.”
“Oh, come on,” Oliver said, throwing his pencil to the floor.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Isa said, pulling out her phone. “Let me check and see if anyone emailed us about the animals. If we have any takers, maybe Allegra can make a poster for New Dog—” Isa stopped as she scrolled through her emails. “Oh no.”
“What?” said Jessie, Oliver, Hyacinth, and Laney.
“It’s an email from the City of New York,” Isa said slowly. “Apparently our flyers violate section ten-one nineteen of New York City’s Administrative Code. The Department of Sanitation has removed six of them, and each one is a seventy-five-dollar fine.”
“Are you telling me,” Jessie said after doing a quick calculation in her head, “that we owe the City of New York four hundred and fifty dollars?”
Isa looked up from her phone. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Nineteen
The Vanderbeekers put the kittens back into their crate, then raced out of the apartment, dragging Franz and New Dog with them. They had to find the rest of the flyers they had put up, and they had to do it fast. They’d hung some in windows of businesses, which apparently did not warrant a fine, but that left thirty-six copies out there. If the Department of Sanitation found them before the Vanderbeekers did, it would add up to a fine of $2,700.
Hyacinth let Franz smell a copy of the one flyer they had kept, then said, “Go find the rest, Franz!” Franz howled and immediately pulled her leash in the direction of the park.
“I think he has a lead!” Hyacinth said, running after him.
Franz zigzagged his way in the direction of St. Nicholas Park, and soon the Vanderbeekers realized that Franz just wanted to chase squirrels, because they definitely hadn’t put any flyers in that area. They backtracked to 141st Street and headed south, retracing their steps to the library. They’d found twenty-four flyers by the time they reached 138th Street, and as they passed Harlem Coffee, they saw Herman Huxley come out.
“Herman!” Hyacinth and Oliver said. They hadn’t seen him since school let out for spring break.
Herman’s face broke into a wide grin, and then he spotted the flyers in their hands. “Hey, are you the ones with the kittens? I’ve seen these flyers everywhere. Is that a new dog?”
“We found five kittens outside our brownstone two days ago and two guinea pigs yesterday, and today this dog showed up,” Hyacinth said. “Someone is leaving them, but we need them all out of our house by tomorrow morning. Do you want to adopt them?”
“Of course I do!” He leaned down to pet New Dog. “Whew, this dog smells.”
“You can’t have the tuxedo cat,” Laney told him. “That one is mine.”
“Don’t mind Laney. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Jessie said quickly. She pushed her leash into Herman’s hand. “You can take New Dog now and then follow us back to our apartment and pick up the kittens, okay?”
Herman handed the leash back to Jessie. “Are you kidding? I wish I could have them all, but my dad would never let me get pets. Never.”
“Well, thanks a lot, Herman,” Jessie said with a huff. “You’ve been supremely unhelpful.”
“No time to chat,” Isa said, grabbing Laney’s hand and moving on. “We need to find all the flyers before we get another fine. There are twelve more out there.” The twins rushed off to look, dragging Laney behind them. Hyacinth, Herman, Oliver, and the dogs followed at a less frantic pace.
Hyacinth looked at Herman, then back at the coffee shop. “Were you getting . . . coffee?”
Herman was wearing his backpack, which looked loaded down with something heavy. “My dad is on this publicity kick. He’s making me go around to different buildings and businesses to pass out these postcards.” He gave her a card bearing a photo of Mr. Huxley, his arms crossed over his chest, looming in front of a luxury condominium.
“That sounds terrible,” Oliver said, “although passing out postcards sounds better than the trouble we’re in right now.”
“Wait, what trouble?” Herman asked as he reached up and plucked two flyers off a lamppost.
Oliver and Hyacinth alternated telling the story. When they were done, there was a long pause. Then Herman let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” Herman said. “I’m so glad I’m not you right now.”
* * *
Oliver, Hyacinth, and Herman met up with the rest of the Vanderbeekers in front of the library. Isa, Jessie, and Laney had found six additional flyers, and Herman, Oliver, and Hyacinth had found three, so they were missing just one.
“Where could it be?” Isa fretted.
“It’s just one flyer,” Oliver said. “Let’s go home. I’m so hungry!”
Jessie glared at her brother. “Do you want to pay the seventy-five dollars for that flyer?”
Oliver calculated the amount of allowance it would take to save up seventy-five dollars; then he shook his head.
“Let’s go home anyway,” Hyacinth suggested. “Maybe we’ll see the last one on our way.”
The Vanderbeekers and Herman weaved their way home, using exactly the same route they had taken the day before. They went back past Harlem Coffee, which now had a line out the door with people needing caffeine, then past bodegas, their windows displaying candy, dish detergent, and cereal. At 141st Street, they made a right and went by the church and the community garden. Because of the abundant spring rain, there were plenty of weeds poking through the ground, and Oliver dreaded the day his sisters suggested they do a garden cleanup.
The last flyer was nowhere to be found.
“Fine, forget it,” Jessie finally said. “We need to do some serious, on-the-ground promotion today. Here’s what I’m thinking: let’s get pets on the wagon and walk around the neighborhood. We don’t come home until they’re all adopted.”
Oliver couldn’t think of a worse way to spend the day, especially since it was a treehouse-building day, but Mr. West was coming back tomorrow, and they had to solve the animal problem.
“We still need to paint the living room,” Isa pointed out. “And Oliver needs to work on the treehouse while Uncle Arthur is free.”
Oliver shot Isa a grateful look, then pledged to compliment her violin playing every chance he got.
“Okay, what about this?” Jessie suggested. “You and Oliver prime and paint the living room, and I’ll take Hyacinth and Laney with me.”
“I’ll go with you too,” Herman said.
“Yay!” Hyacinth and Laney said.
It was eleven o’clock by the time they made it back to the brownstone. Uncle Arthur was sitting on the steps with four cans of primer around him.
“I thought we were meeting at ten thirty,” Uncle Arthur said to Oliver. “Oh, hey, Herman. Wait, is that a new dog?”
“Yup, this is New Dog,” Oliver said, leading her on the leash toward him.
“Wait, the new dog’s name is New Dog?” Uncle Arthur asked.
“It’s a name and a description,” Laney told him.
Herman spoke up. “Don’t you think it’s a terrible injustice that they have eleven pets and I have none?”
“Yes,” Uncle Arthur said.
“Eight of these animals don’t belong to us,” Oliver clarified.
Herman didn’t respond.
“I’ve got the primer,” Uncle Arthur said, putting his hands on top of the cans. “Should we get to work?”
“Yes! Painting! Yes!” Laney chanted.
Jessie stepped in. “Laney, we’re not going to paint. We’re going to get the animals adopted, okay?”
“But not Tuxedo, right?”
Jessie hesitated, which Laney took as a good sign. She was already on her way into the brownstone, yelling, “Tuxedo! Where are you, girl? We’re going on a wagon ride!”
“Great job,” Oliver said to Jessi
e. “She totally thinks Tuxedo belongs to her now.”
“And that,” Jessie told him, “is why we don’t name pets we can’t keep.”
Twenty
It was decided that Jessie and Laney should bathe New Dog first (they determined there was a higher possibility of her being adopted if she smelled like freesia and lemon instead of a garbage dump) while Hyacinth and Herman worked on making the wagon eye-catching. They made a big poster and used some of Hyacinth’s knitted yarn accessories to decorate it.
When they were done, they went back inside to check on the bath progress. Franz, who had been with Hyacinth, got one glimpse of the filled bathtub and bolted upstairs to hide under the bunk bed. He did not like baths.
Hyacinth peeked into the bathroom. Laney was wearing a bathing suit and goggles and was in the tub with New Dog. Bubbles were flowing over the edge and onto the bathmat. Unlike Franz, New Dog appeared to love baths and was even letting Laney give her a bubble beard and bubble hair.
Jessie was sitting on the closed toilet seat scribbling wildly in her science notebook. “If I used tubes to dispense the food—”
“What’s that?” Hyacinth said, reading over Jessie’s shoulder. The words at the top of her notebook said, “Rube Goldberg Kitten-Feeding Machine.”
Jessie looked up and surveyed the bathroom. “Jeez, Laney, you made a huge mess!” She pulled a towel down from the hook.
“Are you going to make that machine?” Hyacinth said, pointing at her notebook.
Jessie nodded. “Science fair project.”
New Dog shook herself off, spraying everyone with water and bubbles. Jessie snapped her notebook shut, shoved it in her back jeans pocket, then wrapped New Dog in a fresh towel. Hyacinth helped Laney shower off, then get dressed, but no one could convince her to give up the goggles. They leashed the dogs, and off they went.
The air was crisp, and the sky was a clear blue. They rolled the adoption wagon along 141st Street, under trees that were hundreds of years old and over roots that caused the sidewalk to buckle. The merry chirps of birds filled the air, and the kittens were awake and alert, their eyes wide with wonder.
First they stopped to see Cassandra at the Central Harlem Animal Hospital. She took a selfie with the kittens (“They look better than yesterday! Great job!”), complimented Laney on her goggles, examined New Dog, checked her for a microchip that would show her owner’s information if scanned by the vet (she didn’t have one), and got her up-to-date on her immunizations. Cassandra thought the guinea pigs looked fine, although she admitted she wasn’t qualified to provide veterinary care to them. Finally, she gave the Vanderbeekers the bad news: there was still no space in the adoption center for the kittens.
“But they need to be out by tomorrow morning,” Jessie pleaded. “Is there any way for you to take them until tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’m sorry,” Cassandra told them. “If I could, I would.”
The Vanderbeekers said goodbye and set off into Harlem. Surely there had to be people in the neighborhood who could provide the perfect home for these pets.
* * *
Three hours later, Laney was still full of energy. She loved talking to people—it was pretty much her favorite thing to do—and when they went by the park, she saw a group of her friends from kindergarten and got to show off the kittens and guinea pigs. Every one of her friends wanted to adopt them—of course they did!—but their parents and caretakers said no.
All day long Laney had crossed her fingers and secretly hoped that no one would be interested in Tuxedo, and she might have been wishing a little too hard, because in the end no one wanted to adopt any of the animals. Laney could tell that Jessie was getting more and more worried as the afternoon went on.
“I’ll have to think about it,” said a woman wearing jeans, black boots, and a leather jacket. She liked the gray kitten. “I live with three roommates, and I need to get permission from everyone first.”
“I’m allergic,” said another man, and as if to prove his point, he gave an enormous sneeze, which startled New Dog so much that her tail went down and she squeezed herself under the wagon to hide.
“I’ve got my hands full,” said a mom who was wrangling a set of triplet boys who looked a lot younger than Laney. “Also, I don’t think a kitten would be safe around these guys.” Even though she looked frazzled, she shot her kids an affectionate smile.
When they walked by an assisted-living community, seven people were sitting along the sidewalk in wheelchairs, their faces tilted toward the sun. The sound of the wagon jolted them from their daydreams, and they looked with interest at the animal parade.
“What have you got there?” asked a gentleman wearing multiple layers of clothes and a hat.
“They’re kittens, Charles,” said the lady next to him. “And hamsters.” She wore glasses at the tip of her nose.
“Those aren’t hamsters; they’re guinea pigs,” piped up another woman. She had her hair in curlers and a shower cap. “Bring them here.”
Jessie rolled the wagon over, and the woman in curlers leaned down to peer at the guinea pigs.
“Hand me a kitten,” said another woman, and Herman opened the crate and picked up a kitten for her to hold. Pretty soon five of them were holding kittens, and another woman had one hand on New Dog and one on Franz.
“Anyone want to adopt a kitten, guinea pig, or dog?” Jessie asked them, but no one responded. Their hands were on the animals, and they were all smiling.
“Reminds me of my first cat,” said the woman in the curlers. “Her name was Tiger. She was beautiful.”
“Mine was Rufus Mulligan the Third,” said the man with the hat. “He slept under the covers with me.”
“I had a cat who liked to walk on a leash,” said another woman. “Everyone knew us, and the storekeeper on 137th Street would give her treats when we passed by. That was a real nice cat.”
“My granddaughter has a hamster,” said the woman petting the dogs.
“Those are guinea pigs!” corrected the person next to her, pointing at the cage.
Laney figured that none of these people could adopt a pet right now—they looked as if they needed a lot of help just taking care of themselves—but she was glad they could be with the animals for a little bit. A few minutes later, someone from the nursing home came out and said it was time for everyone to come in. Jessie, Hyacinth, and Herman collected the kittens and put them back into their box, and Laney gave out goodbye hugs. The residents waved as staff emerged from the building and began wheeling the people back in.
“Come back and visit,” they said as they were rolled up the ramp. “And bring the animals with you!”
* * *
The sun was beginning to set when Jessie, Hyacinth, Laney, and Herman left the retirement home.
“What are we going to do with the animals?” Jessie fretted. “We have gotten exactly zero pets adopted. Why is this so hard?” She thought about the $450 fine; it might be up to $525 now, if the Department of Sanitation had found the last flyer. They had spent all their money buying the paint so they didn’t have to dip into the Fiver Account, and Jessie couldn’t bear to tell her parents that they now needed hundreds of dollars because they had violated a city code.
Herman, who was walking in front of the wagon, stopped, and Jessie almost ran into him.
“Maybe I can help with the kittens,” he said, turning around to face Jessie, Hyacinth, and Laney.
“How?” Jessie asked.
“My dad has some kind of Realtors’ banquet tonight until super late. Tomorrow he leaves early to go to Brooklyn for a conference. So . . . maybe I can bring them home with me?”
“If your dad finds out,” Hyacinth said, “he will flip.”
Herman stood up as straight as the lamppost he was next to. “He’s not going to find out. I know exactly where I’ll hide them.”
“You’ll take extra-good care of Tuxedo, right?” Laney asked.
Jessie looked at Herman. “Are you sure?
Like, one hundred percent sure?”
“Sure I’m sure,” Herman said. “Just drop them off now, and then come back tomorrow after the inspection to pick them up. And you should ask Angie to take the guinea pigs. She loves guinea pigs.”
The Vanderbeekers went home to drop off the guinea pigs and pick up kitten food and the litterbox; then they brought the kittens and the supplies to Herman’s house in the wagon. He didn’t want them to come up to his apartment—his bedroom was a huge mess, he told them—so they gave the kittens goodbye kisses and loaded the cat crate and supplies into the elevator. Then they waved until the elevator door closed and whisked the kittens up to Herman’s apartment.
Twenty-One
When Jessie, Hyacinth, and Laney returned home after dropping the kittens off at Herman’s place, they found Oliver in a great mood. His treehouse was done, his sleepover was about to begin, and the living room walls were painted white and looked as awesome as boring white walls could look. When Laney told him that the kittens had a home for the night, Oliver was so thrilled that she asked if she could sleep in his room and he said yes!
Laney couldn’t wait to finally experience a night of sleeping in a room alone. After dinner, she moved all her stuffed animals into Oliver’s room and fluffed up his blanket to her standard of comfort.
When she left his room to go say good night to everyone, she bumped into Hyacinth, who was coming out of their shared bedroom with Franz.
“We get our own rooms tonight!” Laney said to Hyacinth.
“Great,” Hyacinth said.
Laney frowned, not knowing why Hyacinth didn’t seem as excited about this arrangement as she was. She headed down the stairs to find the rest of her siblings—plus Angie and Jimmy L—outside, huddled around the grill making s’mores. She stepped outside, and Isa handed her a graham-cracker sandwich filled with gooey marshmallows and melted chocolate.
“Guess what?” Oliver said to his siblings as they settled out on the grass and ate the sticky dessert. “Angie said she can take care of the guinea pigs tomorrow when the inspector is here.”
The Vanderbeekers to the Rescue Page 10