Wolfie and Fly

by Cary Fagan

  But Livingston had already flicked the switch. A new sound began, a high-pitched whistle. They felt the sub surge forward at tremendous speed.

  “Yee-haw!” cried Livingston.

  “We’re coming in too fast!” Renata said. “We’ll fly right up out of the water and smash to bits. We have to do something. Reverse boosters!”

  Livingston looked at the control panel. How did he do that? There were no more controls left unused. He took out his marker and over a button he wrote “Reverse.” Then he pressed it.

  This time the roar was more of a growl. The sub slowed down but it was still going pretty fast. Renata looked out the porthole and saw something strange. It looked like furniture floating on the ocean surface. She could see the bottom of a sofa and chairs and even a coffee table. And it all looked familiar. Wait a minute! That was her living room! She turned the wheel a little to the left and aimed for the space between the sofa and the table.

  “The sub is about to surface!” she cried. “Get ready!”

  “How do I do that?” asked Livingston.

  “Hold on!”

  Renata held the steering wheel steady and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 9

  Lucky

  Renata felt a smack as the cardboard sub hit the surface. Immediately it began to fly apart, sending her and Livingston tumbling.

  Renata blinked her eyes. She pushed a piece of cardboard off of her and saw that she was sprawled on her own living room sofa. Across from her, Livingston was hanging upside down from the top of an easy chair. When she looked down, she saw an inch of water swirling over the floor.

  The front door burst open.

  “Renata! Renata! Are you all right? Speak to us!”

  It was her mom and dad. “Oh, darling,” her mom cried, hurrying to her side. “We heard on the radio in the car that a pipe burst on our street and all the houses got flooded. We rushed home as fast as we could. You could have been hurt.”

  “I was worried that those pipes were too old,” her dad said. “But who’s hanging upside down from the chair? Is that Livingston Flott?”

  “Hi, Mr. Wolfman,” Livingston said cheerfully. He let himself slip down and got right side up. “Wolfie—I mean Renata—asked me in to play.”

  “She did?” asked her mom. “Good for you, Renata. But the two of you must be in shock. What can we do after we mop up this mess to make you feel better?”

  “Some ice cream might help,” Livingston suggested.

  It so happened that Renata’s parents had picked up a tub of chocolate swirl ice cream on the way home. Her dad turned off the water and then they got out all the mops and rags and everyone helped to dry the floor. “Hey, look!” Livingston said, picking up a damp cushion. Underneath was his brother’s baseball.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Renata said.

  In the kitchen, her mom dished out two big bowls of ice cream and insisted that they eat up every last drop.

  “That sure helps a lot,” Livingston said, a ring of chocolate around his mouth. “I better get going. My parents will wonder where I am.”

  “Renata, it’s so nice you’ve made a friend,” said her mom. “Why don’t you walk Livingston to the door.”

  “What for?”

  “Because that’s what friends do.”

  “Okay.” Renata shrugged. She walked with Livingston to the door and then outside. They stood together on the porch.

  “So tell me, Wolfie,” Livingston said. “Are we?”

  “Are we what?” she asked.

  “Friends. Are we really friends?”

  “I don’t have friends,” Renata insisted. “I don’t need friends. I don’t want friends.”

  “But you have to admit that it was fun today,” Livingston said.

  Renata scratched her head. “Yes, I admit that it was fun.”

  “So can I come over again?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Cool! We’ll be Wolfie and Fly. We’ll have adventures together. When the two of us are together, who knows what will happen?”

  “Okay. But we’re still not friends.”

  “Right,” Livingston agreed. “See you around, Wolfie.”

  “Bye, Fly.”

  Renata watched Livingston hop down the stairs. He turned around and made a funny face. Then he started to walk like a chimpanzee.

  “You’re a weirdo,” she called. But she laughed anyway.

  And he was right, she thought. When Wolfie and Fly are together, who knows what might happen?

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First, a mighty big thanks to Tara Walker and Samantha Swenson and the rest of the gang at Tundra books. Also to Rebecca Comay for first hearing about these two oddballs, to my parents for giving us those giant cardboard boxes to play with, and to all the kids in the schools I’ve been privileged to visit for their enthusiasm and feedback.