“Great,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Holly and Heather both get two-fifty and I get three every week—”
“You do?” said Jill. “You get three hundred thousand dollars every week?”
“Hundred?” asked Holly.
“Thousand?” asked Heather.
“How long would we have to save up our allowances to get just one thousand dollars?” Amelia Bedelia asked her friends.
“Yikes!” Holly said. “Two-fifty plus two-fifty plus three . . . that’s eight dollars a week. If we saved up for a year . . . um . . .”
Jill picked up a calculator. “If you saved up for a year, you’d have four hundred and twenty-four dollars among you,” she said. “I don’t think that would be enough to buy your vacant lot.”
“Can we do anything else?” asked Holly. “We really wanted that tree house.”
“Do you know the name of the realtor who’s selling the lot?” Jill asked.
“It was on the sign,” Amelia Bedelia said. “I remember. Victor Lee.”
“Oh, I know Victor!” Jill said. “I will keep an ear out, girls. And if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
Jill tucked her hair behind her ear as she said that, so Amelia Bedelia knew she’d keep her promise.
All week in school, Amelia Bedelia thought about adventures. In her mind, she rappelled down Mount Everest and sailed around Cape Horn.
“Where are you, Amelia Bedelia?” her teacher asked. “You’re a million miles away.”
“My body is right here in the classroom, Mrs. Shauk,” said Amelia Bedelia. “But my brain is going around the world.”
“Good thing,” said Mrs. Shauk. “Because I’d like your brain to help out with our geography lesson, please. Can you come up to the map and show the class where the Pacific Ocean is?”
That was easy for Amelia Bedelia. But it wasn’t so easy to think that their explorers’ club would no longer have the perfect easy, breezy place to meet.
The next weekend, she and Holly and Heather agreed to visit the lot one last time and say good-bye to their oak tree. It rained overnight, but the sun came out in the morning, and Amelia Bedelia set out for the lot, carrying a basket.
When she got there, she saw Holly and Heather sitting sadly by the FOR SALE sign. “What’s in the basket, Amelia Bedelia?” asked Holly.
“Lemon tarts!” said Amelia Bedelia. “I baked them this morning.”
Amelia Bedelia’s lemon tarts were definitely tart. And also sweet and crunchy and tasty.
“These are really good, Amelia Bedelia,” said Holly, munching. “Do you still sell them to Pete for his diner?”
“Sure,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I make him a batch every week.”
The tarts were delicious, but they were not quite enough to cheer up the girls.
“Amelia Bedelia!” called a loud voice.
Amelia looked up to see her friend Diana strolling by on the sidewalk. Diana was walking five dogs.
“Quick, put the tarts in the basket!” said Amelia Bedelia. She knew how much the dogs that Diana walked for her dog-walking business loved lemon tarts.
There was Sherlock, the bloodhound, with his sad eyes and floppy ears; Dempsey, the boxer, with his blunt nose; Lincoln, the bearded collie, trotting politely by Diana’s side; and Snowdrift, the husky, pulling at her leash. There was also a new dog in the pack that Amelia Bedelia had not met before. She was very little, very furry, and black as midnight.
Diana told the dogs to sit, and they sat—except for the new one. That one ran straight to Amelia Bedelia and began sniffing her knees and licking her toes.
“That’s Licorice,” said Diana. “She’s just a puppy, and she isn’t doing too well with her training, I’m afraid. She’s so friendly that she never wants to sit or stay when there are people to greet!”
“She’s sweet!” said Holly, scratching behind Licorice’s ears. “Can we play with her? That would cheer us up.”
“Sure,” said Diana. “But why do you need to be cheered up?”
While Holly and Amelia Bedelia ran around the empty lot with Licorice, Heather explained to Diana about the tree house they were no longer going to have. Amelia Bedelia, meanwhile, was discovering that playing with a puppy is the perfect way to feel better.
Licorice pounced on sticks and shook them fiercely in her mouth. She chased her tail and yipped with surprise when she caught it. Then she chased Holly. Then she chased Amelia Bedelia. Then she smelled something interesting in a bush. She stopped to sniff—and pulled her leash right out of Amelia Bedelia’s hand.
A sleek black cat leaped out of the bush. The puppy was so surprised that she tumbled over backward.
The cat dashed for the oak tree. Licorice dashed after the cat. And Amelia Bedelia dashed after Licorice.
Amelia Bedelia ran so fast that she forgot to look where she was going. She stepped into a patch of mud, slipped, and flopped down on the seat of her pants.
The cat had scrambled up the oak tree, but Licorice had already forgotten all about it. She ran back to Amelia Bedelia and bounced into her lap, licking her face and wagging her tail so hard that more mud splattered on Amelia Bedelia. Mud splattered all over Heather and Holly too, when they came running to help Amelia Bedelia up.
“Oh, no!” said Diana. She dropped the leashes for Lincoln, Dempsey, Sherlock, and Snowdrift and hurried over. “I’m so sorry, Amelia Bedelia. Don’t tell anybody that the dog I’m supposed to be training got all three of you so dirty. My name will be mud!”
“My pants are mud too!” said Amelia Bedelia.
While Amelia Bedelia was brushing off some of the mud, and while Diana was getting hold of Licorice’s leash, a car pulled up next to the lot. Two men got out. One was wearing a baseball cap and jeans. The other was wearing a suit and tie and carrying a clipboard.
“So, Mr. Lee,” said the man in the baseball cap, “this is the lot you wanted to show me?”
“This is it!” said the man in the suit. “Perfect for any kind of development.”
Amelia Bedelia looked at Heather and Holly. Heather and Holly looked at Amelia Bedelia.
“It’s him!” whispered Heather. “It’s Victor Lee! He’s the one who’s going to sell our lot!”
“Looks good,” said the man in the baseball cap. “Plenty of room to put up a new building. A parking lot too. And a nice neighborhood. I think this would be an excellent place for my dry cleaning business!”
Diana picked up Licorice. Just as she did so, Lincoln, the collie, spotted the black cat that Licorice had chased up the tree. He raced off to run around the oak tree and bark and bark at the cat. The other four grown-up dogs joined him. The cat sat on the branch and stared down at the dogs.
“I’m sure it will be perfect,” said Victor Lee, raising his voice a little over the barking. “Girls? Excuse me? Do you live in this neighborhood?”
“Yes, we do,” said Amelia Bedelia. She and Heather and Holly walked over to where the men were standing.
“Don’t you think this neighborhood needs a dry cleaner?” Victor Lee asked hopefully.
“I don’t know,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I usually wash stuff that I want clean. How can you clean things by drying them?”
But the man in the baseball cap was looking at the three girls and frowning.
“You girls live around here?” he asked. “You sure?”
“Of course we’re sure!” said Heather. “We know where we live!”
“Then this lot would not be perfect after all,” the man in the baseball cap said firmly. “Why would I open a dry cleaning business in this neighborhood if people go around looking like that?”
He waved a hand at the three muddy girls. Victor Lee looked dismayed.
“No, thank you, Mr. Lee,” said the man in the baseball cap. “If you think I’m going to spend money on this lot, you’re barking up the wrong tree!”
“I think it’s the dogs who are barking,” Amelia Bedelia told him. “And it’s the right tree. It has the cat
in it.”
The man shook his head and marched back to the car. Victor Lee looked at the three girls, shook his head too, and drove away. Diana collected her dogs, waved good-bye, and went on with her walk. Amelia Bedelia, Heather, and Holly sat down to finish their lemon tarts.
“That’s not the same cat we saw before, is it?” asked Heather.
“No, it’s a different one,” said Holly. “Do you think it’s okay? Can it get down?”
“When it’s ready, it will,” said Amelia Bedelia. “But maybe we can help it get ready.”
She broke off a small piece of lemon tart. She left it at the foot of the tree.
“Lucky cat,” said Heather, licking her fingers. “I wish I could have another.”
“You can!” said Amelia Bedelia. “I made a bunch!” She handed out more tarts. And they were just beginning to eat them when Victor Lee pulled up again.
He got out of his car and frowned when he saw the girls. “Do you girls play in this lot a lot?” he asked. “Are you planning to go home anytime soon?”
A woman got out of the car and came to stand by Victor. “Wow, those sure smell good,” she said. “What are you girls eating?”
“Lemon tarts,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Would you like a taste?” She broke off half of her lemon tart and offered it to the woman.
The woman took a bite. Her eyes went wide, and she shivered a little. “Oh, my!” she said. “That is one tart tart! Did you buy it somewhere around here?”
“No, I made it,” said Amelia Bedelia. “But if you want to buy one, I make them for Pete’s Diner every week.”
“You do?” said the woman. She looked worried for some reason. “Is Pete’s Diner near here?”
“Yes,” Amelia Bedelia said helpfully. “It’s right around the corner. He has wonderful brownies too.”
“And milk shakes,” added Heather. “The best in town.”
“Oh!” the woman said. “That’s terrible!”
“How can milk shakes be terrible?” asked Holly.
“Or brownies,” added Heather.
“I was planning to open a bakery on this lot,” said the woman. “But I don’t think anyone would come to it if they can get lemon tarts like these nearby.”
“People in this neighborhood really like Pete’s Diner,” Amelia Bedelia agreed.
The woman looked discouraged. “Mr. Lee, do you have any other lots you could show me?”
She turned back to the car. Victor Lee looked down at the girls. “Do you think you could try not to talk to my clients anymore?” he asked.
Victor Lee and the bakery woman drove away, and the girls finished their tarts. The black cat watched them eat. Then it slowly climbed down the tree and nibbled at the bit of lemon tart that Amelia Bedelia had left on the moss.
“Good kitty!” said Amelia Bedelia. The cat washed its whiskers and trotted through the grass toward the spooky house next door, just as Victor Lee pulled up in his car again! He sighed when he got out and saw that the girls were still sitting by the FOR SALE sign.
This time a man got out of the passenger side of the car. He was wearing a shirt with bright red-and-green parrots on it, and when he spoke, his voice was a little like a parrot’s too—harsh and loud.
“This is great!” he said. “This is perfect! This is exactly what I needed!”
Amelia Bedelia exchanged a worried glance with Holly and Heather.
“Excuse me, sir,” Amelia Bedelia said. “But we think the lot is perfect too. We like it just the way it is. What are you planning to do to it?”
The man waved his arms.
“I’m going to turn it into a parking lot!” he said. “I’ll cut down that big tree, pave it over, and charge people to park here!”
“Cut down the tree!” cried Holly.
“I don’t think we need a parking lot in this neighborhood,” said Amelia Bedelia. “There’s plenty of room already for people to park their cars.”
“And lots of people walk,” Heather pointed out.
“Or ride bikes,” said Holly.
“And fall off them,” added Amelia Bedelia.
“Maybe your parents are looking for you girls,” said Victor Lee.
“It’ll be perfect!” shouted the man in the parrot shirt. “I’ll charge people to park their cars by the hour, by the day, by the week, by the month. I’ll clean up!”
“But we already cleaned up!” Amelia Bedelia exclaimed. “We worked really hard!”
The man in the parrot shirt was not listening. He was grinning, and he got into the car with Victor Lee, still talking about how much money he would make.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Amelia Bedelia’s mother asked her that night at dinner. “You look pretty blue.”
Amelia Bedelia looked down at her shirt. “I am totally pink,” she said. “Except for my red tie-dyed heart.”
“Pink looks good,” said her mother. “But you look sad. Is something wrong?”
Amelia Bedelia nodded and poked her kale. She told her parents about Mr. Lee finding a buyer for the lot.
“Honey, that’s a shame,” said her mother. “After all your hard work—our hard work! I can tell you’re disappointed.”
Her parents exchanged a look in parent code. Her mother tipped her head to one side. Her father’s eyebrows moved closer together. It was a look that said, “We’re worried about our daughter.”
If Amelia Bedelia’s parents had been using words, not code, they would have said, “What’s happened to Amelia Bedelia? Why isn’t she talking a mile a minute? Why isn’t she waving her arms around so fast that kale flies off her fork? Why is she . . . quiet?”
She looked worse than disappointed. She looked discouraged. That was not like Amelia Bedelia at all.
“I just don’t see how we can be an explorers’ club anymore,” Amelia Bedelia said with a sigh. “We needed a cool place to meet. Somewhere different. Somewhere exciting. Somewhere like a tree house. How can we go on adventures if the only place we have to meet is in our own backyards?”
“Your own backyard?” said her father. “I remember when there was a zoo in your very own backyard!”
Amelia Bedelia smiled a tiny smile. Her zoo had had a big cat sitting on a fluffy pillow, a frozen gecko in a block of ice, and a genuine monkey. All the neighborhood kids had come. Even her teacher had shown up!
“You of all people don’t need a tree house to have adventures,” said her mother. “Remember when you rode your bike in the parade? And got chased by all the dogs in town, who wanted to eat up your lemon tarts? And you won a new bike because of it? Now that was an adventure!”
“You’ll always be an explorer, Amelia Bedelia,” her dad promised her. “You can have adventures right here at home, as long as you’re willing to try new things.”
“Like kale?” asked Amelia Bedelia, looking down at her plate. She was starting to feel a little better.
“Well . . .” said her father.
Her mom reached over and lifted Amelia Bedelia’s plate right off the table.
“You know what?” she said. “I don’t think this is a kale day. I think it’s a day for tomato salad instead.”
After dinner, the phone rang. “Amelia Bedelia!” her mom called. “It’s for you!”
“Hi, Amelia Bedelia,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. “This is Jill. We met at Pete’s Diner the other day. Do you remember?”
“Sure,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Well, I heard something through the grapevine that I thought you might be interested in,” said Jill.
Amelia Bedelia wondered how a grapevine could talk. But Jill kept going, so she didn’t have a chance to ask.
“The owner of the lot is named Mrs. West, and she lives right next door to it, in a gray three-story house with a big porch out front. You know the one I mean?”
Yes, Amelia Bedelia knew just which one Jill meant. It was the spooky house where she’d had the sense that somebody was watching them from behind the curtains
.
“I know Mrs. West—she gives talks at the library sometimes and she’s wonderful. Maybe if you spoke to her, she’d wait for a while before selling the lot.”
“I don’t think so,” said Amelia Bedelia with a sigh. She told Jill about Victor Lee and the man who had been so excited about building a parking lot.
“Gee, that’s too bad,” said Jill. “I’m sorry, Amelia Bedelia. I can tell this means a lot to you.”
But Amelia Bedelia couldn’t help thinking more about Jill’s idea as she got ready for bed. There was a chance, wasn’t there, that Mrs. West might change her mind? She should at least try to talk to her. Wasn’t that what an adventurer would do?
The next day Amelia Bedelia, Heather, and Holly had a quick club meeting on Amelia Bedelia’s front porch.
“Oh, I don’t know, Amelia Bedelia,” said Holly. “Will Mrs. West really listen to us? She doesn’t even know us, and we’re just kids.”
“We should try!” insisted Heather. “We’re explorers, aren’t we?”
“That’s right!” said Amelia Bedelia. “And explorers don’t give up and turn back just because their boots start to leak or they run out of food.”
“Or the river floods and washes away their jeep,” Heather added.
“Or piranhas eat their map,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Or piranhas eat the explorers!” Heather finished.
“Okay! Okay!” said Holly. “I’ll come. But I bet Mrs. West won’t care about what we think.”
Amelia Bedelia Cleans Up Page 3