Girls Rule!

by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  He looked at his brothers in horror, then at the Malloy girls. For once he couldn’t tell what they were thinking: they weren’t frowning; they weren’t smiling. Maybe, like him, they were in shock!

  “Well,” Eddie said at last, “thanks for the lemonade.” Then she and Beth and Caroline went down the steps, crossed the road, and started across the foot bridge over the Buckman River.

  “This can’t be happening!” Wally said at last.

  Jake was frantic. “If the Malloys move in next door, we are toast!” he cried.

  “Dead meat!” said Josh.

  “Roadkill!” added Wally.

  “It will be horrible,” said Jake.

  “Terrible!” said Josh, all trace of fondness for the girls gone in a flash.

  Peter was eating a handful of crackers and stopped to study his brothers. “Why?” he asked. “What’s the matter with the Malloys moving in next door? I think it would be nice.”

  Jake and Josh and Wally looked at each other, then at Peter.

  “Peter, go in the house,” Jake told him.

  “Why?”

  “Because I think your favorite show’s on,” said Jake.

  “No, it’s not!” said Peter.

  “Okay, then. Because you can play my new video game if you do,” said Jake.

  “Okay!” said Peter happily. He went indoors, and soon the sounds of monsters and aliens filled the air.

  “Look at it!” Jake said again, turning toward the house next to them. “It’s got six windows on the side facing us!"

  “And I’ll bet all three of the ones on top belong to girls’ bedrooms if the Malloys move in,” said Josh.

  “They’ll see us in our pajamas!” Jake choked.

  “They’ll see us in our underwear!” Josh gulped.

  “They might even see us in the bathtub!” cried Wally. “We’ll have to keep our blinds down all the time and never ever let sunlight in our rooms. They’ll know everything we ever do.”

  “When Dad gets mad and yells at us, they’ll hear every word,” said Jake.

  “If one of us has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, they’ll see the light come on and they’ll know who it is!” said Josh.

  They sank down on the glider facing the house next door.

  “What are we going to do?” Josh said. “This is worse than having them living in the Bensons’ house.”

  “There’s only one thing to do,” said Jake. “We’ve got to make sure the Malloys don’t rent it—that they move somewhere else.”

  Josh began pushing against the floor with his feet. The glider moved jerkily back and forth. “Yeah? How are we supposed to do that?” he said. “Sit out here with a shotgun?”

  “We have to make sure they don’t want to rent it,” Jake said.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to make them think it’s haunted,” said Wally.

  “No, not haunted. Infested.”

  “With what? Ghosts? Bats? Mice? Squirrels?” asked Wally.

  When Jake’s eyes came together over the bridge of his nose, Wally knew that his brother’s brain was working overtime—that he was thinking as hard as he possibly could. “Termites,” Jake said at last.

  “Termites!” said Josh. “How are we supposed to bring that off?”

  Jake stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said. He walked down the front steps and disappeared around the side of the house.

  Wally took a deep breath, held it, then said, “This is going to end awful, you know.”

  “What makes you think that?” said Josh, but he didn’t look so sure of Jake either.

  “Because they probably don’t have any termites at all! I haven’t seen any termites! Jake wouldn’t know a termite if one sat on his nose. What are we going to do? Go on a termite hunt and give them a free ride to the Corbys’ basement?”

  Jake came back around the house just then, holding something in his hand. He gave it to his brothers to examine, and Wally found himself staring down at a narrow strip of wood that looked as though it had been out in the weather for twenty years. Green paint was peeling off one edge, and it was riddled with tiny insect holes. When Josh ran his thumb over one end, the wood crumbled in his hand.

  “Looks like a piece of window frame, doesn’t it?” Jake said.

  “Yeah, but where did you get it?” asked Josh.

  “From the Corbys’ woodpile.”

  “And what are you going to tell the Malloys?” asked Wally.

  “That it came from the Corbys’! That’s the truth.”

  “This will never work!” said Wally. “It will never ever work!"

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a lie.”

  “Who says it’s a lie? I found it at the Corbys’, and if they ask what it is, I’ll say it looks like a piece of window frame. It does, doesn’t it? It was lying on the ground. That’s the truth too.”

  “It’s still a lie,” said Wally. “You’re making them think it fell off a window frame, even if you don’t say so.”

  Jake looked him in the eye. “Which is worse, Wally? Not saying the whole truth and living in peace and freedom, or explaining every last detail and ruining the lives of everyone in this house?”

  Well, when he puts it that way, Wally thought. The boys were quiet awhile longer.

  “So what exactly are we going to do?” asked Josh. “Go knock on the Malloys’ front door, ask to speak to their parents, and say, ‘This is what you’ll get if you move into the Corbys’ house’?”

  “Yeah, what if they pick up the phone, call the Corbys, and ask if they have termites?” said Wally.

  Jake tapped the stick of wood against the palm of his hand and moved his lower lip back and forth against his teeth, thinking. “We have to be diplomatic about this,” he said. “Here’s what we’ll do. In an hour or so, about the time Coach Malloy comes home, we’ll wander over to their house. We’ll sit out on their porch talking to the girls and then…Well, leave it to me.”

  Gladly, thought Wally, because he had the feeling he shouldn’t have any part in this whatsoever. It had the word trouble stamped all over it.

  “There’s just one problem,” said Josh. “If Mom or Dad isn’t home in an hour, we can’t leave Peter here by himself.”

  “So we’ll take him with us,” said Jake. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t have a clue.”

  When fifty minutes had gone by, Jake told his brothers they ought to leave. He wanted to be sitting on the Malloys’ front porch when Mr. Malloy drove up. Then he could just ask his question without making a big deal of it.

  “What question?” asked Wally.

  “You’ll see,” said Jake. “Hey, Peter! We’re going over to the Malloys’ for a while,” he called. “Come on.”

  “I don’t want to,” Peter called back. “I’m in the middle of a game.”

  “Well, you’ll have to stop.”

  “You said!” Peter protested.

  Jake went to the door and stuck his head inside. “Look. If you stop the game now and go with us, I’ll let you have it the whole rest of the evening after we get back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “O-kay!” Peter called. A minute later he came reluctantly outside. “What do we have to go over there for?” he asked. “I didn’t think you liked the girls! One minute you hate them and one minute you like them.”

  “We never said we hated anybody,” Josh said. “We just want to talk to them for a little while.”

  The four boys traipsed across the footbridge, their steps sounding hollow on the narrow planks, the bridge bouncing beneath them. When they reached the other side, Jake put out his arms to slow them down. “Now just walk up there real casual, like we’re out for an afternoon stroll,” he said.

  “An afternoon stroll ?” said Wally. “When do we ever go for a stroll? What’s this supposed to be, a park?”

  “Just act natural, that’s all you have to do,” Jake told him, and they started up the gras
sy hill.

  Wally had never paid any attention to acting natural. Somehow his hands felt too big and his feet too small. He tripped going up the hill and wondered if his shoelaces were untied. It was easy to act natural until somebody told you to do it, he thought. And when you had the gut feeling you were making a horrible mistake, it wasn’t easy at all.

  Eleven

  The Visit

  After leaving the Hatfords’, the girls didn’t speak until they were on the footbridge going home. Then Eddie said, “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

  “What could Mom be thinking—renting a house next to the Hatfords?” said Beth. “I mean, why not rent a house next to a reform school? A prison? An insane asylum?”

  “So what’s there to laugh at?” asked Caroline. “I don’t see anything funny about it at all.”

  A deep chuckle came from Eddie’s throat. “You don’t? You don’t see anything funny about being able to turn out the lights in our rooms at night and sit at the window watching the Hatfords?”

  “They’ll pull down their blinds! You know they will,” said Beth.

  “Or they could turn out their lights and watch us!” said Caroline.

  Eddie stopped chuckling. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “So if we move next door to the Hatfords, both families will have to keep their blinds down day and night. People will think there’s a feud going on or something,” said Caroline.

  “Well?#x201D; said Beth.

  They went up the grassy hill behind their house and burst into the kitchen, where Mrs. Malloy had just opened a cookbook.

  “Mom!” they cried accusingly.

  Mrs. Malloy looked up from the chapter on desserts.

  “Why did you do it?” Eddie demanded.

  “For heaven’s sake, do what?” her mother asked.

  “Go see the house next door to the Hatfords’! You’re not going to rent it, are you? We don’t want to live next door to those guys.”

  “I haven’t rented anything,” Mrs. Malloy said. “I don’t even know yet if we’re staying in Buckman. But I want to have some idea of what’s available if we are.”

  “I can’t think of a worse place to live,” said Beth.

  “Well, it’s not as though we have a wide choice,” Mrs. Malloy went on. “Most of the houses on the market are for sale, not for rent, and we’re not about to buy a house unless we plan on staying here for at least five years.”

  “Five years!” Eddie howled. “I’ll be almost through high school in five years!"

  “If we live next to the Hatfords for five years, I’ll probably be half crazy,” said Beth.

  “And if we’re not crazy, we’ll never see sunlight unless we go outdoors, because our shades will be drawn day and night,” Caroline put in.

  “I have never seen you girls get as dramatic as when the Hatfords are mentioned,” Mrs. Malloy said. “One would almost think they were your boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends!” the girls howled.

  “No way!” said Eddie.

  “Well, there’s coffee cake on the counter if you want to have some with milk,” their mother told them.

  The girls went upstairs and changed into shorts and T-shirts. After they had eaten their snack, they went out in the front yard and took turns pushing each other on the long rope swing that hung from the beech tree. When one girl sat on the huge knot at the end of the rope, her sisters pulled her all the way over to the porch steps, climbed to the top, and let go. The girl on the swing would soar out over the front yard, back and forth, back and forth, the heavy limb above her bowing only slightly with her weight. When the swing stopped at last, it was another’s turn.

  “I wish we owned this house,” Caroline said. “I love this swing and this tree.”

  Beth took her place on the rope. “I like looking out my window and watching the river,” she said. “I like walking across the footbridge to get to school. I even like the name of our street—Island Avenue.” Her sisters pulled her to the top of the steps, then let go. “Why do the Bensons have to come back?” she wailed, her voice sailing out over the yard.

  “Because it’s their house, that’s why,” said Eddie.

  They continued swinging and talking, swinging and talking….What they were going to do once the Strawberry Festival was over, whether the river would be deep enough for swimming, how they had talked of climbing Indian Knob, and whether they should go explore the site of the old coal mine.

  Eddie had just taken her fifth turn on the swing when she said, “Well, look who’s coming.”

  Caroline turned around, and there, walking across the clearing toward them, were the four Hatford boys.

  “Something’s up,” murmured Eddie.

  “Look at the expression on their faces!” said Beth. “When they look that pleasant, it means trouble.”

  Caroline looked from Eddie to Beth. Who were they kidding? They liked trouble. They liked the excitement the Hatford boys stirred up. They knew that if they moved back to Ohio, their lives would be dull as dishwater.

  “What’s this? A social call?” Eddie asked as the boys stopped a few yards away and stood awkwardly, hands in their pockets.

  “What are you guys doing?” Beth asked.

  “Acting natural,” said Peter. Jake poked him on the arm, and Caroline knew Eddie was right. Something was up.

  Jake looked at the girls and shrugged. “Just out horsing around. What are you doing?”

  “Horsing around,” said Eddie, and studied him quizzically.

  “We’re not keeping you from dinner, are we?” Josh asked.

  “No. Dad isn’t home yet,” said Beth.

  “What time does he usually get home?” Jake asked, and faked a yawn.

  “Anytime now,” said Eddie. “What’s the matter with you guys? You want to be invited for dinner?”

  “No!” said Wally.

  “Yes!” said Peter. “What are you having?”

  “Peter!” yelled Josh.

  Jake went over and sat down on the front steps. Josh and Wally followed, and finally, Peter.

  “It’s a warm afternoon, isn’t it?” said Jake.

  “Yes,” said Eddie.

  “Warmer than yesterday,” said Jake.

  “Yes,” said Beth.

  “Probably as warm as it will get all summer,” said Wally, trying to do his part.

  “This is a boring conversation,” said Peter.

  “I agree,” said Caroline.

  Just then Mr. Malloy’s car pulled in at the end of the drive, and the Hatford boys all turned in that direction.

  The girls’ father parked just outside the garage and, seeing the kids on the front porch, walked around the house.

  “How you doing?” he said to the Hatfords.

  “Fiiiiiine!” Peter warbled.

  “I hear your car wash went pretty well Saturday,” Mr. Malloy said. “Eddie tells me you’re going to try it again this weekend.”

  “Yeah, but we’ll do it at our place this time,” Josh said. “Save some on your water bill.”

  “Well, that’s thoughtful of you,” said Mr. Malloy. “I’ll vote for that.”

  He stepped between Peter and Wally to go up on the porch when Jake said, “Oh, by the way, Mr. Malloy, we thought we’d offer to paint the trim on the windows next door to us, and I just wondered if you knew how we should paint over this.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a stick of wood that looked as though it had been attacked by a woodpecker.

  The girls’ father took the stick and looked it over. “This from the Corbys’ house?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I just wondered how we should paint their trim—if you knew anything about painting.”

  “I don’t know a whole lot, but if this is part of their window frame, I’d say it’s going to take a lot more than paint. This looks like the wood’s infested with something. Termites would be my guess.”

  “Termites!” said Jake in horror, gingerly taking the stick back. “That’s pretty ser
ious, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is. If I were your neighbor, I’d get my house inspected by an expert,” Mr. Malloy said, and he went

  on up the steps and then inside.

  The girls looked at each other.

  “When did you decide to do some painting?” Eddie asked, turning to Jake.

  “Well, their house looked as though they could use it. It would be one more way to earn money.”

  “That’s pretty hard work. How much are the Corbys paying you?” Eddie said.

  “We haven’t exactly come to an agreement yet,” Jake answered, and threw the stick into the bushes as though he didn’t even want it near him.

  Peter looked from one girl to the other. “Are you going to move in next door to us?” he asked. “Is that what your mother was doing over at the Corbys’?”

  “Anything is possible,” Eddie said. “Of course, if we rent their place, there would have to be some conditions.”

  “What do you mean—conditions?” asked Wally.

  “Well, when you rent a house you have to sign papers and have an agreement,” Eddie explained. “I mean, the Corbys might say that we couldn’t have pets and that nobody could smoke, and we couldn’t hang heavy objects on the walls—things like that. And we could say that the neighbors couldn’t shoot baskets after nine at night or turn up the TV too loud or have cookouts outside our windows—that kind of stuff.”

  “You could tell the neighbors what to do?” Josh choked.

  Eddie shrugged. “You can put anything at all in an agreement,” she said.

  Jake took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t think you’d want to live in a house with termites.”

  “Yeah,” said Wally. “Some termite mounds are twenty feet high. I read that in a book. Just one termite mound could fill your whole living room.”

  “Oh, man! And do they ever bite!” said Josh. “I’ll bet if a termite bit you on the cheek, your face would swell up like a basketball!"

  Jake stood up and stretched. “Well,” he said, “we’d better get home. We just thought we’d come over and tell you we can do the car wash at our place on Saturday.”