The Best Friend Battle

by Lindsay Eyre

  I began building my castle.

  It would be huge. Better than one you could buy at a toy store. It would have fourteen towers, a drawbridge, and a sludgy, monster-filled moat. Even Albert would love it. If ferrets loved castles, which they probably did.

  Building the foundation was easy. I made the outline of a giant square on the plywood and glued the blocks together. I was halfway done with the walls when I realized I’d forgotten to leave a space for the drawbridge, so I had to tear apart one wall. Which made the one next to it crumble. I had almost fixed that problem when I realized that none of the walls had windows. But the walls were already built, so I would need a saw to make them.

  This was a problem. I was afraid of saws because they reminded me of goblin teeth, even though goblins aren’t real. So I got a knife from the kitchen and tried that. But knives are good at cutting the skin on your fingers, not making windows.

  It wasn’t until the north-south wall fell over into a heap of useless blocks and stringy glue that I lost my temper and smashed down the entire castle. Or what was left of it.

  The doorbell rang.

  The air vent in my room is right over the entryway. I listened carefully as my dad answered the door. “Oh, hello! Josh, isn’t it? How nice to see you. What’s that you’ve got?”

  “A casserole,” Josh said. “My mom had extra. It’s got mushrooms and steak. She put it in this disposable pan, so you can freeze it if you want. For when the baby comes.”

  Josh’s mom was famous in the neighborhood for sharing casseroles. This could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the casserole. Mushrooms made this a bad thing.

  “Would you like to come in?” my dad said.

  I fell forward in surprise, my hands pressing painfully against some blocks.

  “I believe Sylvie’s in her room,” my dad said, and before I could shout “No, no, no! Josh cannot come in my room!” my door was opening.

  “Oh, dear,” my dad said when he stepped inside and saw the mess on the floor and the glue on my hands. “Are you all right, honey?”

  Normally I would have screamed that I was not all right, and this castle was never going to work because I was terrible at building things, and I might as well go rob the toy store. Jail would be better than trying to build a castle for Miranda. But Josh was in my room, so I just nodded and sniffed and waited for them to go away and shut the door so I could scream in my own privacy.

  “What are you making?” Josh said, like nothing was wrong. And then he said two shocking words. “A castle?”

  My mouth dropped like a bouncy ball. I looked at my dad, but he just shrugged and left the room. The traitor.

  “I made a castle once, out of blocks,” Josh said. “My sister helped me. We made a drawbridge too. Do you have any cardboard?”

  I did have cardboard. Our garage is practically a cardboard box warehouse, and before I knew it, Josh was selecting the perfect cardboard for the drawbridge, and I was building a castle with Josh Stetson. In my room. With a glue gun and even glitter. We built the foundation and walls and towers out of blocks. The moat was made of sludgy blue paper. We decorated the dungeon with bits of coal, also found in the garage. Josh went bonkers with the glitter, sprinkling it everywhere until the entire castle sparkled. He even knew how to make windows without a saw.

  “Thanks,” I heard myself saying when we were through.

  “Miranda will love it,” Josh said, and my mouth dropped again, like another bouncy ball.

  “How did you know I was making this for Miranda?” I said. Then I gasped. “Are you spying for Georgie?”

  “Huh?” Josh said. “No — I just guessed it was for Miranda because her birthday’s tomorrow, and she has that castle in her room that’s too small.” He got to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Hmm,” I said suspiciously instead of saying good-bye, but he left anyway.

  I watched him walk slowly down the path, his head pointing down, his shoulders pointing up, like he didn’t want to leave. What if Josh was working for Georgie? What if Georgie had sent him over here — with the casserole for cover — so he could find out what I was getting for Miranda? Georgie would want to know. He’d want to know so he could make sure his present was better.

  But at least he didn’t see Albert. If Josh saw Albert, he would tell Georgie, and Georgie would tell Miranda, and Miranda would ask why, and I wouldn’t be able to answer her, and she would say “We’re not going to be friends anymore, Sylvie Scruggs. Not forever and ever. Not for all the castles in the universe.”

  “Let’s put the castle in the wagon,” my dad said when he was through admiring my work. Okay, mine and Josh’s work. We lugged the castle out to the garage together. “That way you can just pull it over to Miranda’s in the morning,” he explained.

  The castle was so enormous, it barely fit inside the wagon’s metal bottom, and our wagon was a big wagon, big enough for three or four kids to ride in at once. “This is a really good present,” my dad said. “Miranda’s crazy if she doesn’t love it.”

  “Miranda’s not crazy,” I said.

  Tate and Cale poked their heads into the garage to see what we were doing.

  “Wowzers,” Cale said. “That’s cool!”

  “Can we have it?” Tate said. “Albert would love it. Especially the moat. He loves to swim.”

  “Who’s Albert?” my dad said, trying to ruffle Tate’s hair without getting bitten. “One of your stuffed animals?”

  “Stuffed animals?” Cale said.

  “Huh?” Tate said.

  “Yes,” I said as I pinched Tate’s elbow and stepped on Cale’s toe. “They have a stuffed ferret named Albert who loves castles.” I looked at them hard. “Remember? Your stuffed ferret? Because he’s not real, he’s stuffed.”

  Tate and Cale looked at me like their brains had been erased, so I told my dad I would put them to bed, and after a stern lecture about not giving away important secrets, I did. Then I found a soft blue blanket (blueish/greenish is Miranda’s favorite color) to cover up the castle. It fit perfectly. Silver is Miranda’s other favorite color, so I found four silver bows in the gift-wrap box and set them on top of every tower. Silver bows are better than silver wrapping paper, because you can save them afterward.

  Happy shivers ran through my body as I stepped back to look at my creation. But I didn’t have time for happy shivers. I had to return Albert. Tonight.

  When my dad tucked me in later, I pretended to be very, very sleepy. But I wasn’t sleepy. I was listening to my parents put the house to bed.

  “Did you get the front door?” my mom said like she always does.

  “Yes, did you lock the back?” my dad said like he always does.

  “Yes, get the lights, please,” my mom said like she always does.

  My dad’s voice got low. “Roger that, Captain.”

  Then, like it always does, my door opened.

  “She’s out,” my dad said. “Funny girl — how was she today? On a scale of one to ten?”

  My mom sighed like she always does. “No major disasters to report. Just worrying about things she doesn’t need to worry about. Like usual.”

  After this rude comment, my door shut and my parents made their loud and regular noises of checking on the twins and brushing their teeth and going to the bathroom.

  When the gigantic metal floor fan in their bedroom turned on, I knew I was safe. That fan is loud enough to block out the sounds of one hundred snarling lions, so I flipped over in bed and watched my clock as it moved from ten fifteen to ten sixteen to ten seventeen….

  At eleven o’clock p.m. time, I popped right up and climbed out of bed. My hands shook as I put on my blackest clothes. My heart thumped as I pulled my hair into a ponytail. I was so nervous I almost gave myself the hiccups as I snuck into the boys’ room. This was my last chance to put Albert back before Miranda’s party.

  “Sylvie?”

  Shoot. It was Cale.

  “Go back to slee
p,” I said.

  “Why are you in our room?” Cale said.

  “Why are you wearing those clothes?” Tate said.

  “Shhh!” I said in a furious whisper. “You’ll wake up Mom and Dad.”

  “They can’t hear anything with Mom’s lion fan on,” Tate said.

  “All right, all right,” I said. “I’m returning Albert, that’s all.”

  “Right now?” Cale said. “In the night?”

  “I want to come.” Tate sat up really fast and banged his head on Cale’s bunk. “Ow!”

  “I don’t think we should go anywhere in the dark,” Cale said. “There could be bad guys out there.”

  “I’m coming,” Tate said cheerfully.

  “You’re not coming,” I said, because that would be a disaster. They would make too much noise. Then Georgie’s dad would call the cops. Dagger would wake up. “I was just kidding about returning him. I’m going to keep Albert in my room tonight.” I paused to think of a good reason. “Because I’m lonely.”

  “Lonely?” Tate and Cale both began talking at once because they don’t know what it means to be lonely. They always have each other.

  I scooped up the sleeping ferret and ignored him when he bit my finger.

  “Good night!” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have some nice dreams!”

  Then I shut the door behind me. I waited for several seconds, to make sure they went back to sleep. When no sounds came from their room, not even whispering, I tiptoed to the garage to get a nice box for Albert, one a little more comfortable than the orange box, which didn’t smell too good anymore. I found some newspaper and some old rags, and pretty soon had him very comfortable for our trip across the street.

  This is easy, I thought as I snuck out the side garage door. The moon was out, so the dark wasn’t too scary. I’d just walk on over and drop Albert off, no problem.

  I didn’t see Tate and Cale until they were standing next to me on the sidewalk in their pajamas with black stuff on their faces.

  “Permanent marker,” Tate said with an evil grin. He pointed to the black streaks on his forehead and cheeks. “For camouflage.”

  “I didn’t have time to do a very good job because Tate got the marker first,” Cale said. His face didn’t have black streaks, just black dots. He looked like a chocolate-chip ice cream cone.

  “All right, all right,” I said. “I guess you can come. But the rule is you must not speak. Not at all. Not a peep. Not even if you trip and break your leg. Not even if you see a dangerous monster about to eat you. Not even if the police capture you and take you to the police station and make you eat mushrooms until you tell them the truth.” I paused dramatically. “Got it?” I waited for them to run away in terror.

  “Got it,” Tate said.

  “Got it,” Cale said.

  “Okay,” I said, giving up. “But you have to be perfectly quiet.” I stepped off the sidewalk. Cale stepped off the sidewalk. Tate stepped off the sidewalk.

  “Ow, Tate! You stepped on my foot,” Cale said.

  “I did not,” Tate said, not even bothering to whisper. “You just stepped on your own foot. And a slug.”

  “Ew!” Cale shouted, because he hated slugs. “Ew, ew, ew! Get it off, Sylvie. Get the slug off my shoe.”

  This conversation continued all the way to Georgie’s house, and despite the number of times I pinched their elbows, it continued until we were standing in the backyard.

  “You have to be quiet now,” I told them. “If we get caught, they could toss me into prison and throw away the key. Do you understand?”

  “Where would they throw the key?” Tate said.

  “Why don’t you just give Albert back?” Cale said. “In the daytime. At the front door.”

  “Because I can’t,” I said, louder than I should have. “It was an accident — this wasn’t my fault. Now stop talking.”

  Cale zipped his lips. “I won’t talk again,” he grunted through his teeth.

  Tate reluctantly did the same. “All right,” he said through sealed lips. “I won’t talk either.”

  “Okay,” I said, keeping my teeth shut. “See that bucket?”

  “What?” Cale said through shut teeth.

  “She said, ‘Do you see that bucket?’ ” Tate said, also through shut teeth.

  “What?” Cale said.

  “Okay,” I said. “We can whisper, but the whisper must be so soft only a lizard could hear it.” Lizards have super sensitive ear drummers, according to Miranda.

  I hunched over. Cale hunched over. Tate hunched over. Our faces were nearly touching. “Cale is Mr. Stink Breath,” Tate said in a whisper.

  “Am not!” Cale whispered back.

  “Quiet,” I ordered, though Cale’s breath really was stinky. Then I explained the situation: stand on bucket, open bedroom window, slip Albert inside. Tate was assigned to hold Albert’s box while Cale was to help me move the bucket. But it was dark, and I couldn’t remember for sure which window was Georgie’s.

  “Is that it?” Cale asked as I tried the first window.

  “Window locks should be on the outside,” I said, because the stupid window wouldn’t open. “It must be the next one.”

  “Is that it?” Cale asked as I pulled and tugged on the next window.

  “No,” I said. “It’s not. And stop asking me questions. I can’t concentrate. It’s not easy to open windows.”

  “Are you sure you unlocked the window?” Tate said. “Maybe you locked it.”

  “I’m sure,” I whispered surely. “I don’t get stuff like that wrong, Tate. Lefty-loosey. Righty-tighty.”

  Tate looked stunned at these words of wisdom. Cale looked hungry.

  I ignored them both. I knew I had unlocked Georgie’s window, and there was only one possibility left. I crossed my fingers as Cale and I moved the bucket. I stepped up. I put my fingers on the side of the window thingy. I pulled with every last bit of strength I’d ever had since I was born.

  “No,” I said, when it wouldn’t budge. “No, no, no!”

  “Sylvie!” Cale whispered. “Stop shouting!”

  “That grandma’s a crazy window-locking person!” I said, still pulling on the window. “She must go around the house locking windows just for fun. It’s not as if there’s crime in this neighborhood! It’s not as if someone is going to climb in the window and steal stuff!”

  Dagger woke up with a roar so loud, the ground practically shook.

  “Ahhhhhh!” Cale shouted, and he dove out of the bushes and ran toward our house as fast as his short legs could carry him.

  I looked at Tate with serious eyes that said “Don’t you dare run off screaming too.” But he dropped Albert’s box on the ground and took off after Cale. “Ruff, ruff,” he shouted at Dagger.

  I picked Albert up and started to follow, but a screeching sound came from the house. I paused.

  The sound kept coming. Georgie’s back door was opening.

  I screamed without making any noise and took off around the house like a girl afraid to get caught by a muscley dad or a window-locking grandma or a friend-stealing boy.

  Morning arrived — the birthday party morning. Albert had now been at my house for a really long time. Overnight even. There was no way I could just walk up to Georgie and tell him the truth. He’d been searching for Albert all day yesterday. He probably hadn’t slept last night. And there was no Albert waiting for him in the morning like I’d planned.

  “Maybe I should be sick,” I said to myself as I lay in my bed. I couldn’t face Georgie knowing Albert was still at my house. “Maybe I am sick.”

  I was seeing if I could throw up when my mom came into the room. “I thought you’d be up by now on a big day like this.” She rubbed her stomach. “Miranda’s mother just called to ask if you’d like to come over early to help get ready for the party.”

  “Really?” I sat up in bed. “How early? Like now early?”

  “Yes, honey. Like now early.”

  “What else
did she say? Will anyone else be there?”

  My mom groaned a little and shifted her feet. “I have no idea, but it sounded like they really want some help.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed. This was perfect. I could go over early — before Georgie got there, so I wouldn’t have to see him — give Miranda her present, then get sick. Then Miranda would be thinking about my enormous castle the whole party. She’d never forget about me!

  “Get dressed first and get a bite to eat,” my mom said, giving me a kiss and another groan before leaving the room.

  I was just putting on my shoes when another great idea popped into my head. I could give Albert back while Georgie was at the party. I could leave him on the porch in his box. He’d be too far away for Dagger to smell on the porch, and Georgie would be coming home soon, so Albert wouldn’t be there long. It would work perfectly unless Georgie’s grandma was standing at that window again, folding more laundry.

  Miranda was hanging a giant stick bug on the front door when I pulled the wagon up to her porch. As soon as she saw me she put down her supplies and gave me a tight birthday hug. “What’s that?” she said, pointing at the castle still wrapped up in its blanket.

  My cheeks went warm. I couldn’t look at her face. It’s easy to know your present is amazing when you’re alone in your garage wrapping it in a blanket. It’s harder to know your present is amazing when your best friend is wondering what it is. “It’s your present,” I said. “I made it.”

  Miranda isn’t impressed by much because she’s a scientist, but, at that moment, every muscle in her face looked impressed. “Wow,” she said. “That’s huge. But I don’t think we can get it inside my house.” She clasped her hands together as an idea jumped into her brain. “I know! We can put it in the garage like it’s a secret discovery no one knows about. Then we can pull it out at the very end of the party, and everyone will be so surprised. I’ll go open the garage.”