Mailbox Mania

by Beverly Lewis

  Dunkum looked puzzled. “Isn’t everyone?”

  Dee Dee shook her head. “I’m not.”

  “Well, why not?” Dunkum smiled. “Need some help?”

  “Now you’re talking!” Dee Dee’s face lit up.

  Dunkum looked at Abby. “Is it okay? If I help her, I mean?”

  “Don’t ask me.” Abby took two steps backward.

  “You’re the Cul-de-sac Kids’ president, aren’t you?” he said.

  Abby studied Dee Dee. She was only seven. Then she thought of her sister—Dee Dee’s best friend.

  “What if Carly finds out?” Abby said. “That might cause trouble.”

  “There already is trouble,” Dunkum said.

  Abby took two steps forward. “What do you mean?”

  Dunkum’s face twitched. “Maybe you should ask your sister.”

  “What’s wrong with Carly?” Abby asked. But she already knew. Her own sister was making things hard. And horrible.

  For everyone!

  SEVEN

  Abby called a meeting.

  Stacy, Dunkum, and Shawn showed up.

  “Where is everyone else?” Stacy asked.

  Abby explained. “We have some problems. Carly and Jimmy are mad at me. Jason and Eric are fighting. And Dee Dee asked Dunkum for help.”

  “Why should Dee Dee get help?” Stacy asked.

  “She’s little, that’s why,” Dunkum said.

  Stacy shook her head.

  Abby was worried. Would Dunkum and Stacy start arguing, too? “What should we do?” she asked. “Do we need to vote about Dee Dee or what?”

  Dunkum looked around. “There aren’t enough members here.”

  Shawn agreed. “Only four kids.”

  “Well,” Stacy huffed. “What’s Dee Dee making that’s so hard?”

  Dunkum spoke up. “She’s making an Abe Lincoln mailbox. With a top hat and beard.”

  “You’re kidding,” Stacy said. “She should’ve asked me! I’m the artist on the block.”

  “But I live closer,” Dunkum insisted.

  Stacy’s eyes were tiny slits. “That doesn’t mean anything!” She got up and hurried down the street—to Dee Dee’s.

  “Hey! Wait!” Dunkum called.

  But Stacy kept going.

  “Well,” Abby said, “I guess that’s the end of our meeting.”

  “Cul-de-sac Kids do not stick together. Not anymore,” Shawn said. His eyes looked sad.

  Dunkum left without saying goodbye.

  Abby didn’t know what to think. Were the Cul-de-sac Kids falling apart?

  She sat on the swing next to Shawn. “Now what?”

  “In Korea, we talk to wise people,” Shawn said. “Older people—like grandfather or grandmother—are wise.”

  Abby thought of someone like that. “Maybe Mr. Tressler can help. He’s old and wise!” She looked at Shawn. “You’re a great brother!”

  Shawn smiled. “Abby great sister . . . and friend.”

  Then Abby hurried to the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Could Mr. Tressler help?

  Abby would find out soon enough!

  EIGHT

  Abby ran to Mr. Tressler’s house.

  The old gentleman was having a snooze.

  He snored softly.

  Abby crept up the porch steps and sat down. I’ll wait here till he wakes up, she thought.

  While she sat, she remembered happier days. Lots of happy days.

  Not long ago, the Cul-de-sac Kids were getting along. They’d made Father’s Day gifts. And had an Easter pet parade. They’d even solved a mystery—The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery.

  Best of all, they were true friends.

  But something had gone wrong. Crazy-wrong.

  Abby glanced over at Mr. Tressler. Could he help?

  Snortle-choke!

  Mr. Tressler awoke.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Abby said.

  He’d slumped down in his chair. Slowly, he reached for his cane. He pushed himself up a bit.

  “Are you okay?” Abby asked, getting up.

  “Just a bit dazed,” he admitted. “But now that you’re here, I’m fine. Sit down, missy.” He patted the chair next to him.

  Abby smiled. Her friend had a charming way about him. He could turn problems into pudding—sometimes.

  Abby didn’t spring her questions on him right away. She sat in the patio chair and chatted with him.

  They talked about the sunny summer day. They listened to the chirp-chip-chirping of the robins. And they laughed together.

  Soon, it was time for lunch.

  Time had passed so quickly. Abby hadn’t asked Mr. Tressler anything. Not one word about the fighting in the cul-de-sac.

  “Abby!” her mother called from the porch.

  Abby could see Shawn and Jimmy running toward her house. “Well, I better go,” she said.

  “That’s a girl.” Mr. Tressler nodded. “Never keep your mother waiting.”

  She started to say something else. But she spotted Dunkum chasing Stacy. More trouble!

  Stacy carried long black strands of yarn in her hand. Dunkum ran after her wearing a stovepipe hat. Dee Dee was right behind them—yelling!

  “What’s this about?” Abby muttered.

  Mr. Tressler leaned forward. “Dear me—trouble in the cul-de-sac?”

  Abby shook her head. “This whole mailbox thing is a mistake!” She hurried down the steps and across the street.

  Stacy sprinted across her lawn and into her house.

  Dunkum didn’t let that stop him. He ran right up Stacy’s steps. He began to pound on the door!

  Dee Dee grabbed Abby’s arm and pulled on her. “Make them give me back my mailbox stuff!”

  “Is that Abe Lincoln’s beard and top hat?” Abby asked.

  Dee Dee nodded. “Stacy and Dunkum are fighting. They’re fighting over who’s gonna help me.”

  Abby felt helpless. What could she do?

  NINE

  Abby stood there watching.

  She wanted to drag Dunkum down off Stacy’s steps. She wanted to shake him and tell him to stop.

  Poor Dee Dee, she thought. This is all my fault.

  “Can’t you do something?” Dee Dee pleaded.

  “I’m sorry,” Abby said. “Not now. I have to go in for lunch.” She headed across the yard.

  “Abby!” yelled Dee Dee.

  “Go ring Stacy’s doorbell,” Abby called. “Maybe she’ll talk to you.” Sadly, she headed home.

  Abby could hardly eat.

  Shawn and Jimmy sat across from each other at the table. They scowled.

  Carly whined and refused to look at Abby. All through lunch.

  Mother looked first at Abby, then the others. “What’s going on with the four of you?”

  Abby spoke up. “Everything’s horrible. We’re having a mailbox decorating contest. But nothing’s working out.”

  Carly smirked. “My mailbox is ready.”

  Shawn shook his head. “We must make mailbox together. Four Hunter kids . . . together.”

  “Remember our meeting?” Abby said. “Remember what Eric said about working together? We’re a family.”

  Carly poked out her bottom lip. “I wish we weren’t!”

  Mother’s eyebrows bounced up. “Carly Anne Hunter!”

  “Well, it’s true!” Carly wailed. And she got up and stomped off.

  Mrs. Hunter excused herself and left the table.

  Shawn’s eyes got big. Jimmy’s too.

  Abby felt like a jitterbox.

  TEN

  It was the day before the Fourth.

  And the day before Mailbox Mania.

  Abby sat under a tree in the front yard. She stared at their mailbox. It was all red and white now. Like a flag.

  All the Hunter kids had decorated the mailbox. Mother’s talk with Carly had changed things. Everything!

  Abby was glad.

  Next door, Stacy’s mailbox was on displ
ay, too. It was blue with perfect white and red stars. And an American flag for the mailbox flag!

  Abby tried not to look at Stacy’s beautiful mailbox. But her eyes weren’t helping.

  Then Shawn and Jimmy brought the dog over. Snow White was panting. “She is very hot,” Shawn said.

  Jimmy just stood there. His eyes were blank.

  Abby nodded. “I’m hot, too. But not from the heat.” She shot a mean look at Jimmy.

  “You are mad, yes?” Shawn said.

  “Jimmy doesn’t like our mailbox,” Abby said. “I thought the fighting was over!”

  When Jimmy heard that, he ran across the street. He sat on Eric’s lawn and stared at them.

  Abby wished she were an only child. Like Stacy and Eric. And all the other Cul-de-sac Kids.

  When the mail came, Abby ran to get it. She reached for the letters. But there was something else inside.

  A present. With a bright red bow.

  “What’s this?” she said.

  Jimmy dashed over for a look. “Let me see.” He peered inside.

  “It’s a present.” Abby took it out.

  Jimmy stood on tiptoes. “Is present for me?”

  Abby looked at the card. “It’s for you . . . and Carly, Shawn, and me.”

  Jimmy jumped up and down. “Yippee!”

  “Quick, let’s find the others,” Abby said.

  “Open it!” Jimmy shouted.

  Abby dashed into the house. “Carly!” she called. “There’s a present for all of us in the mail!”

  That brought her running.

  Soon, the four of them were tearing the paper off. Abby opened the lid. Shawn, Jimmy, and Carly leaned closer.

  Abby held up the gift. “It’s a puzzle piece.”

  “With words on it,” Carly said.

  Jimmy’s face wrinkled up. “That not present.”

  Abby stared at the puzzle piece. “I can’t see all the words. Something’s missing.”

  Shawn and Carly each took a turn looking at the puzzle piece. “Who sent us this?” Carly asked.

  “I don’t know,” Abby said. “It’s a mystery.”

  Shawn laughed. “A mystery in the mailbox!”

  Just then, the doorbell rang.

  Carly ran to get it.

  It was Stacy. “Look what I got in the mail.” She held up a puzzle piece.

  Abby studied it. “You got one, too?”

  The doorbell rang again.

  It was Eric and Jason this time.

  “Someone put puzzle pieces in our mailboxes,” Eric said.

  Jason danced around when he saw Abby’s piece. And Stacy’s. “Hey! Maybe they fit together!”

  The kids knelt down on the floor. Stacy and Eric moved their pieces around. They didn’t fit Jason’s piece. So they switched.

  “Wait. . .” Abby laughed as Stacy’s piece snapped into hers. “This is double dabble good!”

  Carly giggled. “Let’s see if Dunkum and Dee Dee got puzzles, too.”

  “Good idea,” the kids said. They picked up their puzzle pieces and dashed out the front door.

  ELEVEN

  The Cul-de-sac Kids met Dunkum coming up the street. He was waving his present in the air.

  Right there on the sidewalk, they tried to put the puzzle together.

  “Look at that!” Abby said. “We’re missing one piece.”

  Shawn tried to read the words. “It say something about us—the Cul-de-sac Kids!”

  The kids leaned over the puzzle. Their heads almost touched.

  “You’re right,” Abby said. She smiled at Carly. “Why don’t you go find Dee Dee?”

  Carly leaped up. “Okay!” She ran down the street to Dee Dee’s house.

  Zippo! Dee Dee flew out of her house. She checked her mailbox.

  Abby and the others watched.

  Dee Dee smiled when she spotted the present.

  Carly was standing close by. She whispered in Dee Dee’s ear and pointed to the other Cul-de-sac Kids.

  Dee Dee let out a “Ya-hoo!” She scurried down Blossom Hill Lane. Toward them.

  Abby and the rest of the kids circled around her.

  Dee Dee looked at the unfinished puzzle and set her piece down. Right in the middle.

  It fit!

  “Now we can read it,” said Abby.

  The kids read out loud. “The Cul-de-sac Kids stick together.”

  They looked at one another. Really looked.

  Abby smiled and gave Carly a hug. Then Jimmy came over and hugged Abby.

  Soon everyone was hugging.

  Except Jason. He was dancing! “We stick . . . stick . . . stick together,” he sang the words.

  “Now we do!” Abby said.

  The kids cheered.

  “Who gave us these puzzle presents?” Dunkum asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dee Dee said.

  “Me neither,” Carly said. The two girls giggled.

  Abby called a meeting right there on the spot. “The meeting will now come to order,” she said. “Any old business?”

  The kids grinned. “Forget the old stuff,” they shouted.

  Eric raised his hand. “We have a mystery to solve.”

  Stacy nodded. “We sure do!”

  Abby called for a vote.

  Nine hands flew up.

  It was agreed—the Cul-de-sac Kids would play detectives.

  “What about Mailbox Mania?” Dee Dee asked. “Aren’t we having a contest?”

  “That’s tomorrow,” Carly told her. “Today we have something else to do!”

  Abby gathered up the puzzle pieces and stuck them in her pocket. She fell in step with Stacy and Eric. The others were close behind.

  They were off to solve a mystery.

  TWELVE

  “Where do we start?” Jason asked.

  Abby had an idea. “Let’s talk to Mr. Pete, the postman. He might be up the street.”

  “Let’s ride bikes and catch him!” Dunkum suggested.

  The kids went home to get their bikes.

  Mr. Pete was three streets up. He looked surprised when nine kids on nine bikes called and waved him down.

  When he stopped, Dunkum and Abby rode up to the mail truck.

  “We need your help,” Abby said.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She explained about the presents.

  “Why, yes, I delivered them today,” said Mr. Pete.

  Dunkum frowned. “But there weren’t any stamps on them.”

  Mr. Pete nodded. “I noticed that, too.”

  Abby watched his eyes. Something wasn’t quite right. She watched his mouth. Mr. Pete was almost smiling.

  “How can presents show up in mailboxes like that?” Abby asked.

  Mr. Pete shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing.”

  “Come on,” Eric piped up. “You know how the post office works.”

  “I certainly do.” Mr. Pete glanced at his watch. “And the U.S. Post Office wants the mail delivered on time. So if you’ll excuse me . . .” And off he went.

  Dunkum scratched his head. “I think he knows something.”

  “Maybe we should follow him,” Jason said.

  “We better stick close to home,” Stacy said.

  “We better stick together,” Abby said, grinning.

  They zoomed down the hill toward their cul-de-sac. And stopped in front of Dunkum’s house.

  “I’m starved,” Jason said. “Let’s have a picnic.”

  “Where?” Stacy asked.

  “Mr. Tressler has the biggest yard,” Abby said. “Besides, we haven’t visited him much. Not all of us together.”

  “Good idea,” Shawn said.

  “Who wants to pack a lunch for Mr. Tressler?” Abby asked.

  Nine hands went up. Abby voted too.

  “Let’s everyone bring something!” Dee Dee said.

  And they did.

  Mr. Tressler seemed to enjoy the company. He nodded and smiled when Abby sat next to him—besid
e the comfortable lawn chair.

  After dessert, the kids showed him the puzzle pieces. Jason pushed through the circle and put the puzzle together. “Look at that,” he bragged. “Five seconds flat!”

  “Any second-grader can do that,” Dee Dee teased.

  Jason took the puzzle apart. He passed the pieces to Dee Dee. “OK, you’ll be in second grade next year. Let’s see how fast you are.”

  The kids watched her put the puzzle together. “The Cul-de-sac Kids stick together,” they chanted when it was done.

  Mr. Tressler leaned forward to look. “What a fine puzzle.”

  “Looks homemade,” Abby said. “Don’t you think so?”

  Jason popped up. “We wanna find out who sent the pieces to us.”

  Carly giggled. “The mailman acted funny.”

  “You should’ve seen him,” Dunkum said. “He was in a big hurry.”

  “I think he’s keeping a secret,” Eric said.

  Mr. Tressler listened. Then he said, “What sort of secret?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Abby said.

  Mr. Tressler rubbed his chin. “Looks to me like you’ve got yourselves a mystery.”

  Stacy looked at her watch. “We can’t spend all day solving it. Tomorrow is Mailbox Mania!”

  Mr. Tressler sat up straight. “And I get to choose the best mailbox!” He tapped his cane on the ground.

  Abby looked at Jimmy and Carly. She looked at Shawn. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but—” She paused.

  Dunkum smiled. “I think I know what Abby’s going to say.”

  “So do I,” Carly said.

  Mr. Tressler’s face burst into a grin. “You don’t need a judge? Is that it, missy?”

  Abby nodded. “Maybe we should just have fun with Mailbox Mania. Without the contest.” She looked around. “Let’s vote on it.”

  The kids agreed.

  “OK,” she said. “How many for a mailbox contest?”

  No hands.

  “How many just for fun?”

  Nine hands. No . . . ten. Jason raised two!

  Eric pushed one of Jason’s hands down. “Hey, no fair voting twice!”

  Jason frowned and pushed his hand back up. “I can if I want!”

  “Whoa, there.” Mr. Tressler raised his hand. “I thought the Cul-de-sac Kids stick together.”

  He turned and winked at Abby.

  “Why . . . Mr. Tressler?” she exclaimed. “Do you know something we don’t?”