The Vanderbeekers to the Rescue

by Karina Yan Glaser

  Everyone cheered.

  Angie smiled and gave a pump of her arms toward the sky. “I’ll take them with me after the sleepover.”

  “Aren’t you scared about sleeping out here?” Hyacinth asked Oliver.

  “Nope,” Oliver said. “Jessie hooked up an emergency bell if we need anything.” He pointed up, and Hyacinth saw a red string that went from the treehouse right to Mama and Papa’s bedroom, which faced the backyard. “We just pull the string and it rings a bell in Mama and Papa’s bedroom.”

  Hyacinth eyed it with skepticism.

  “It works like the bus,” Jessie explained. “You know that yellow cord that goes across the windows? You pull on it when you want to get off at the next stop? Same mechanism.”

  “No one comes back here anyway,” Oliver assured her.

  “And Mama and Papa’s room is literally twenty feet away from the treehouse,” Jessie added.

  “What about the person who keeps leaving the animals here?” Hyacinth asked. She looked around, just in case someone was lurking in the darkness.

  “Ooh,” Angie said. “We should set up a video camera so we can catch the person!”

  Jessie’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea! Papa has that flip video thing that he won from his office party a couple of years ago. I’ll get it! I know where he keeps it.” She ran inside the brownstone, and Isa lay down on the ground, looking up into the universe. Laney copied her, but there were no stars to be seen in that square patch of sky bordered by buildings.

  Jessie came back with the flip recorder, and they turned it on to see if it worked. Oliver mugged for the camera, and they played it back. While the image was a little dark, they could still tell it was Oliver. Jessie, Oliver, Angie, and Jimmy L climbed the ladder to set up the camera. They got the angle perfect and secured it using a combination of string and masking tape.

  “We’re going to catch this animal-leaver person!” yelled Oliver from the treehouse, giving them a thumbs-up.

  “He’s no match for us!” Jimmy L proclaimed. Then he stood up too fast when he was withdrawing from the treehouse and bumped his head on the top of the window. Angie burst into giggles.

  Hyacinth winced as she and her sisters headed inside. “Are they going to be okay out here all by themselves?”

  “They’re fine,” Isa said. “A little dopey, but they’ll be okay.”

  * * *

  Oliver had never been to sleep-away camp, but he imagined it would be something like this treehouse sleepover. So far, everything had been awesome. They’d had a chin-up competition (Angie won, by a lot), seen how many marshmallows they could fit in their mouths at once (Jimmy L won, by a lot), and scratched their names into the treehouse wall with an X-Acto knife.

  Oliver grabbed a graham cracker and munched on it while they played Quiddler, a card game Angie was obsessed with.

  “I wish I could adopt one of the kittens,” Angie said as she drew a card and analyzed her hand. “Lucky Herman.”

  “He’s not adopting them,” Oliver said. “He’s just watching them until tomorrow. Anyway, you’re watching the guinea pigs.”

  Jimmy L put a card down. “But I thought you’re not supposed to have any pets if you want your mom to keep the license. So aren’t you breaking the rules if the animals are just being moved temporarily?”

  Oliver shrugged. “Right now we’re in crisis-management mode until the photo shoot. Once we’re done with that, we’ll figure out a permanent solution.”

  “Does that mean you’ll give away your pets, too?”

  “No,” Oliver said. “We have a lot to figure out.”

  “Hey,” Angie said, “remember when my Aunt Eva took me out for my birthday last month? We went to a cat café in Brooklyn. It’s like a regular coffee shop, but it also had all these adoptable cats roaming around. Maybe you should bring the kittens there to get adopted.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Oliver said. “Too bad Brooklyn is a million miles away.”

  “Sixteen miles,” Angie corrected him.

  “It feels like a million,” Oliver grumbled. “The last time we went to Brooklyn, the subways were all messed up and it took two hours to get home.”

  They finished the game. No one wanted to be the first to admit that they were tired, but Oliver was starting to feel drowsy. He peeked out the north window and saw that the lights were still on in Jimmy L’s apartment. It looked as if his mom was washing the dishes, and as she passed by the window, she peeked through, probably to see whether they were sleeping yet. Then, as if all the parents had planned it, he heard a couple of doors and a window open.

  “Oliver!” Papa called from the back door.

  “Angie!” Mr. Smiley said from the basement of the building two doors down.

  “Jimmy!” said his mom from the open window across the way.

  “Yeah?” they answered, hopping up and looking out the respective windows in the direction of their parents’ voices.

  “Time for bed!” the parents hollered in unison.

  Oliver, Angie, and Jimmy L put up a little bit of a fight, but Oliver was secretly relieved to crawl into his sleeping bag. The floor was hard, and he wondered why he hadn’t thought to bring up another blanket to sleep on top of. Next to him, Angie was wearing a thick sweatshirt and a knit hat. The spring night was cool, and it made Oliver look forward to summer sleepovers.

  “Your uncle should put a skylight in here,” Angie said. “That would be awesome.”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy L said. “Like, Treehouse 2.0.”

  “I’ll ask,” Oliver murmured. He burrowed down into his sleeping bag and pulled his hoodie over his head for warmth. In minutes, Jimmy L was already breathing deeply, and because of previous experience at sleepovers, Oliver knew it was only a matter of time before his friend started snoring. He glanced up at the video camera to double-check that the recording light was on; then he drifted off with the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the chatter of a noisy group of teenagers walking down the street, the distant sound of a dog whimpering . . .

  * * *

  Isa was having an awful time falling asleep. Even though they had repainted the walls, found a temporary home for Franz, George Washington, Paganini, the guinea pigs, and the kittens, and confirmed that Mama would be out of the brownstone during the inspection (she was taking a website-creation workshop downtown so she could redesign her baking website), there were many things to worry about. They still didn’t know what to do about New Dog; plus there was that enormous fine from the illegal flyers and she had the audition coming up.

  She sat up and looked across the room at Jessie. It was fairly early, but her sister had crawled into bed and crashed immediately, probably because she was exhausted from running around Harlem for the past two days and taking care of their siblings and the new pets.

  Since she was wide awake, Isa figured she might as well practice. The next morning would be busy with cleaning the apartment, moving the pets, and getting ready for the inspection. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and left the bedroom.

  She was about to head downstairs when she heard Laney whimpering. Peeking into Laney and Hyacinth’s bedroom, she momentarily panicked when she saw that the bottom bunk was empty. Another sob coming from the room next door made Isa remember that Laney was in Oliver’s room, and Oliver was in the treehouse. She stepped into Oliver’s closet-sized bedroom, and there was Laney, sitting at the edge of the loft bed and clutching her stuffed rabbit, Babo.

  Isa reached over and picked up her little sister, and Laney wrapped her arms and legs around Isa.

  “I don’t like sleeping by myself either,” Isa confided to Laney.

  “Hyacinth protects me from the monsters,” Laney said, and sniffled.

  “And Jessie protects me,” Isa told her. “Isn’t it great to have sisters? Why don’t I bring you back to bed, okay?”

  Laney nodded. “Will you bring my stuffed animals?”

  Isa smiled. “Of course.” Isa drop
ped Laney off in her bedroom, where Laney promptly burrowed herself inside her blanket cave. Then Isa went back for all the stuffed animals and settled them around her sister. She kissed Laney’s forehead and scratched Franz behind the ears, then went downstairs to find that Papa had fallen asleep on the couch, a book on his chest. She tiptoed past him and descended into the basement, mentally preparing herself for another night of practice.

  Thursday, April 4

  Twenty-Two

  The next morning, Laney woke up in her bed with Babo on her face. She could hear Hyacinth’s gentle breathing from the bunk above her, and it made her so relieved to be back in her own bunk and not all by herself in Oliver’s room. She moved the stuffed rabbit off her face and emerged from her tunnel of blankets. Her eyes immediately went in search of the kittens, and it took her a moment after looking at the empty spot where the crate had been to remember that Herman was taking care of them. The guinea pig cage was on top of her dresser, and the animals were cuddled up next to each other, fast asleep.

  Laney crawled out of bed, trying not to disturb her perfect blanket setup. Whenever she had her bed at a comfort level of 10 out of 10, she moved the covers as little as possible when she got up so she could crawl right back in at bedtime.

  It was inspection day, which she was not looking forward to—she did not want to see Mr. West again—but afterward, Tuxedo would come home! And tomorrow was the photo shoot, and Laney loved being photographed. She couldn’t wait to see herself in the glossy magazine.

  It was time to pick out the perfect outfit. Laney closed her eyes and tried to think of the best thing in the world, and the first thing that came to mind was unicorns. She opened the dresser she shared with Hyacinth and rummaged through her clothes until she found her favorite unicorn shirt, her rainbow leggings, and the best socks for sliding in: the white ones with gold stars. In the closet she searched for her red cowboy boots, which had been owned by each of her sisters before her, and her cousins before them. Those boots had a lot of magic from being worn by so many people.

  On the top bunk, Hyacinth awoke and stretched. As she leaned over the railing, Laney waved and Franz barked a good morning, his tail wagging at 120 wpm. Hyacinth grinned at the sight of them.

  “I dreamed about kittens last night,” Laney told her. “They were wearing scarves and doing synchronized swimming. They got gold medals.”

  Hyacinth made her way down from the top bunk. “Nice.”

  Laney pulled her shirt over her head and put her arms out. “Guess my outfit theme.”

  “Easy,” Hyacinth said. “Unicorn power. But you need one last flourish.” She pulled a bin from under Laney’s bed and removed a headband with long ribbons in every color of the rainbow tied to it. She set it on Laney’s head and stepped back to examine the finished product.

  “Perfect,” Hyacinth said.

  Laney gave Hyacinth a hug. “I love being roommates with you.”

  “I love being roommates with you, too,” Hyacinth said.

  While Hyacinth got dressed, Laney pranced to the bedroom at the end of the hall to see if her other sisters were awake. Isa was asleep, but her headphones were still on; she was drooling on a stack of sheet music. New Dog had slept at her side; her eyes opened and her tail wagged at Laney’s entrance. Jessie looked as if she had had an epic wrestling match with her covers during the night. The comforter was twisted into a rope and wrapped around her stomach.

  Laney decided to wake Isa first, but as she was about to remove Isa’s headphones, Jessie shot out of bed, took two running leaps, and slid on the floor just in time to knock Laney’s hands away.

  “Hey—” Laney began, but Jessie hushed her.

  “Let her sleep,” Jessie said in a low whisper, her finger to her lips.

  Laney shrugged and followed Jessie out the door, where Jessie told her Isa had spent all night stressing about her audition. Laney stopped back in her bedroom to pick up the guinea pig cage, which she and Hyacinth carried downstairs and placed on the living room table so Angie wouldn’t forget to take it with her after the sleepover.

  Papa was already in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. When they came in, he kissed the tops of their heads, and Laney hugged him around the waist.

  “Do you like my outfit?” Laney asked, twirling so the ribbons on her headband flew out.

  “Very nice,” Papa said with a smile.

  Laney grinned back, then pulled a step stool over to the cupboard to reach for a box of cereal. She was on her tiptoes, the cereal nearly in reach, when a large feathery brown shape flew right into the window in front of her. Laney yelped and fell off the stool, the box of cereal slipping from her hands and showering the kitchen with puffed rice.

  Papa ran over, his slippered feet crunching on the cereal. “Are you okay?”

  “There’s something outside!” Laney shrieked.

  Papa, Hyacinth, and Jessie ran to the back door and peered out the window.

  “Holy smokes,” Jessie murmured under her breath.

  * * *

  Oliver woke up to find himself fully buried in his sleeping bag. He could hear yelling from inside the brownstone, but he was so nice and warm where he was that he didn’t want to get up. Just as he drifted off again, the yelling began again, accompanied by Franz’s furious howling.

  “What’s with all the yelling?” Jimmy L muttered next to him.

  Oliver emerged from his warm cocoon and sat up. Angie, who was just waking up as well, looked at him and began to laugh.

  “What?” Oliver said.

  “Your hair is so funny,” she said, pointing.

  Oliver smoothed down his hair, which was doing the normal sticking-up-in-every-direction morning thing.

  “Want to see what’s for breakfast?” Oliver asked, changing the subject. His friends slid out of their sleeping bags and made their way down the ladder. A shriek was heard from inside the brownstone.

  “What’s going on in there?” Angie asked.

  “Welcome to my life,” Oliver said. He jumped down the last couple of rungs, and a squawk made him startle and stumble when he landed. He rolled over and found himself face-to-face with three chickens.

  “Chickens!” Angie cried.

  Jimmy L, the last to come down, clung to the ladder. “I don’t really like birds.”

  Angie picked up a chicken and cuddled it to her chest. “How can you not like chickens?”

  “It’s called alektorophobia,” Jimmy L answered, “and it’s more common than you think!”

  “The animal bandit strikes again!” Oliver said. “Jimmy L, can you check the camera?”

  Jimmy L scampered back up the ladder, happy to get away from the chickens, and yelled, “It’s dead!”

  “We’ll charge it inside,” Oliver told him. “Grab it and come down.”

  “I’m not going down there with the chickens,” Jimmy L said. “They’ll peck my eyes out.”

  “They will not peck your eyes out,” Angie said, a chicken still in her arms.

  But Jimmy L refused, and Angie and Oliver had to convince the three chickens to move to the back fence while Jimmy L rushed down the ladder and made a run for the back door. He slipped inside with Oliver and Angie behind him a few second later.

  “Hey,” Oliver said when he entered, spotting Papa, Jessie, and Laney clustered in the living room. “Did you know there are three chickens in our yard?” His feet crunched on a layer of cereal coating the floor. “Hey, what’s with the—ahh!”

  A large reddish-brown thing flew right at him. He and his friends ducked.

  “I’m out of here!” Jimmy L yelled. Oliver sat up and watched his best friend scramble out the back door, scale the fence, and drop down into his own yard.

  The brown thing came at Oliver again, and Oliver curled up on the floor atop the cereal, his hands protecting his head. Franz’s barking grew even more maniacal.

  “Don’t just lie there—try to get it to fly this way!” Jessie yelled.

  Oliver moved a h
and away from his face to get a glimpse of what was attacking him. Feathers and dust were flying around his face, and he caught sight of a chicken exactly like the ones in the yard. It flapped its wings and crashed into the window on the back door. Dazed, it stood up and ran back toward the living room in wobbly circles.

  “Oliver, chase it out the door!” Papa yelled.

  Oliver sat up. “I’m not getting anywhere near that thing!”

  Papa cast an exasperated look at him, then stepped away from where he was holding the front door open.

  “I’ll do it!” Angie said, and she raced toward the chicken. It dodged her easily and headed toward the basement, half jumping and half falling down the stairs. Franz, who was hiding behind the couch, continued to bark as if the world were ending.

  Jessie and Angie ran down the stairs, and Oliver stayed put, because he was not going after that deranged chicken, no way! Papa, a more gallant man, followed them into the basement. Laney and Hyacinth went down a few steps, just enough to see the action. After what seemed like ten minutes of yelled exclamations and earsplitting squawks, Laney and Hyacinth scrambled up the stairs, yelling, “He got it!”

  Papa looked as if he had gotten into a wrestling match with an ostrich. The chicken gave a loud and meaningful cluck, which Oliver interpreted as “Let go of me, you nincompoop!” Behind him, Oliver heard a set of footsteps coming down the stairs.

  “Oh my,” Mama said, her mouth wide open as she surveyed the living room. The small coffee table was lying on its side, the couch cushions were askew, and the rug was rippled up in a corner. Feathers were everywhere, and Franz continued to bark from behind the couch.

  “It’s all under control,” Papa told her. The chicken clucked in disagreement.

  “Uh-huh,” Mama murmured. She blinked, then treated her eyes to a vigorous rub.

  “ It’s not a nightmare,” Oliver helpfully told her. “This is really happening.”