Chicken Pox Panic, the
Page 1
Beverly Lewis Books for Young Readers
PICTURE BOOKS
In Jesse’s Shoes • Just Like Mama What Is God Like? • What Is Heaven Like?
THE CUL-DE-SAC KIDS
The Double Dabble Surprise
The Chicken Pox Panic
The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery
No Grown-ups Allowed
Frog Power
The Mystery of Case D. Luc
The Stinky Sneakers Mystery
Pickle Pizza
Mailbox Mania
The Mudhole Mystery
Fiddlesticks
The Crabby Cat Caper
Tarantula Toes
Green Gravy
Backyard Bandit Mystery
Tree House Trouble The Creepy Sleep-Over
The Great TV Turn-Off
Piggy Party
The Granny Game
Mystery Mutt
Big Bad Beans
The Upside-Down Day
The Midnight Mystery
Katie and Jake and the Haircut Mistake
www.BeverlyLewis.com
The Chicken Pox Panic
Copyright © 1993
Beverly Lewis
Originally published by Star Song Publishing Group under the same title. Bethany House Publishers edition published 1995.
Interior illustrations by Barbara Birch
Ebook edition created 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
eISBN 978-1-4412-6065-9
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
To my very own
cul-de-sac kids
JULIE, JANIE,
and
JONATHAN
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
Other Books by Author
Back Cover
ONE
It was an itchy gitchy Friday.
Abby Hunter sat up in bed. She rubbed the spots on her arm. On her face. And behind her knees under her pajamas.
“I hate chicken pox,” she said.
“Here,” said her little sister, Carly. “Put this gooey stuff on.”
She gave the bottle of pink liquid to Abby. Frowning at the spots, Carly backed away.
Abby shook the bottle and turned the lid. She wrinkled her nose. The spots on her nose wiggled. “Pee-uie. It stinks.”
Slowly, one at a time, Abby dabbed pink goo on her spots.
It was supposed to make the itching stop.
Abby counted to ten, waiting for the pink goo to work. “Nothing’s happening,” she complained.
Carly leaned against the door. “I hope I don’t get your chicken pox.”
Abby dabbed another coating of goo on the bumps she could reach. “Mommy wants you to catch them,” she said.
“How come?” Carly demanded.
“So you won’t get them when you’re grown-up.”
Abby buttoned up her mint green bathrobe.
She felt cozy inside. Spots and all.
Carly stared at Abby, then she pointed. “Look, Abby! You even have them on your feet.”
“I know,” Abby said. “I have them everywhere!”
“What do they feel like?” Carly asked.
“Ever have a giant mosquito bite?”
Carly nodded.
“Just multiply that times one hundred,” Abby said.
Carly shivered. She turned the door knob. “I’m getting out of here.”
“You’ll be sorry if you don’t get them now,” Abby said. She scratched between her toes.
“Will not,” Carly said.
“Will so” Abby said.
“Will not,” Carly said.
“Will . . .” Abby stopped.
Mother stood in the hallway carrying a large atlas. She gave it to Abby. “Is this what you need?”
Abby reached for the book of maps. “Thanks! This is double dabble good!”
She flipped the pages to the back of the atlas. “What’s the capital of South Korea?”
“Seoul,” said Mother, smoothing Abby’s quilt.
Carly giggled. “That’s a funny name.”
Abby held the book open. “You just think it is. Come see how it’s spelled.”
“Not me” Carly said, hugging the door. “I’m staying right here.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Afraid of my chicken pox?”
Mother gave both girls a kiss. “It’s not so bad having them when you are little,” she said.
“That’s what I told her” said Abby.
Mother grinned and left the room.
Abby turned to page 45 in the atlas.
She leaned on her elbows, looking at the map of South Korea. With her finger, she traced the borders.
“What are you doing?” Carly asked.
“It’s a secret,” said Abby.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carly sneaking closer. Closer.
WHOOSH!
Abby plopped her pillow down on top of South Korea.
TWO
Abby climbed out of bed.
She went to her desk to find a ruler.
She kept her eyes on the pillow. The one hiding page 45 in the atlas.
It was time to measure South Korea. She sat on the edge of the bed. She held the pillow over the map, so Carly couldn’t see.
Carly yelled, “You can’t fool me. It’s your homework!”
“Guess again,” Abby said. She put the ruler down.
Carly stomped her foot. “Tell me this minute!”
Abby looked up from the map. “Don t be so bossy.”
“Ple-e-ease, Abby?” Carly begged.
Abby looked into her sister’s blue eyes. Could she trust her? “Do you promise not to tell?”
Carly grinned. “Cross my heart and hope to . . .”
“Don’t say that,” Abby said. “It’s dumb.”
“That’s how you make a promise,” Carly said.
“Maybe in first grade, but not in third.” Abby picked up the pillow and uncovered the map.
Carly inched closer. “What’s the map for?”
Abby scratched her nose. “Shawn used to live in Korea when his name was Li Sung Jin,” she said.
“I know—before we adopted him and Jimmy.”
Abby leaned on the atlas. “When Shawn and Jimmy came to live in America, they had to leave their country behind.”
“I know that,” said Carly. She played with her curls. “So what’s the map for?”
“It’s a double dabble surprise for Shawn’s tenth birthday. He’s going to have the best birthday cake ever!” Abby slammed the map book shut.
“I don’t get it,” Carly said. “Why are you looking at maps and talkin
g about cakes?”
Abby smiled. “Just because.”
She felt like a jitterbox inside. Birthday secrets did that. Always.
Carly tiptoed closer. Now she stood beside Abby’s bed. “Please tell me.” Carly crossed her heart.
“OK, OK. Here’s my secret” said Abby. “I’m going to make a cake in the shape of South Korea for Shawn’s party.”
Carly jumped up and down. “Goody!”
“Remember, you can’t tell anyone,” said Abby. “The secret could get back to Shawn.”
“And that would be terrible,” said Carly. But she had a silly look on her face.
“You better not tell” Abby said. She slid under the covers.
“Or what?”
“Or you’ll be sorry” Abby said. She pulled the quilt up. “I feel lousy.”
“Chicken pox does that. Mommy said so.” Carly opened the door to leave.
Abby was glad. She was tired of Carly’s chatter. And all that dumb cross-your-heart stuff.
She hid the atlas under her bed.
Then she fell asleep wishing she hadn’t told anyone about the cake.
THREE
Abby woke up when Carly brought in a supper tray. On it was chicken soup and honey toast.
Stacy Henry came for a visit. She was Abby s best friend.
Stacy pulled a get-well card out of her pocket.
“Here. I made this for you in art today.” She gave it to Abby.
Abby read the card. It was a silly sad face with spots all over. It was Abby’s itchy gitchy chicken pox face.
At the bottom of the card was a happy face—after the chicken pox.
“Hope you get well quick,” Stacy said. She untied her sneakers and pulled them off.
“Thanks,” Abby said. “I have to. My brother’s birthday is in two weeks.”
“And Abby’s going to bake him a cake,” Carly said.
Abby stared at Carly. She better not tell!
Carly put her hand over her mouth. “Oops, I mean, Abby’s going to . . .”
“Just be quiet,” Abby warned.
Abby wanted to take back the secret. Phooey, little sisters—what a pain!
Carly’s friend, Dee Dee Winters, sneaked into the bedroom just then. She giggled when she saw Abby. “I brought you something, Abby-pox.”
She gave Abby a plastic ring.
“Thanks,” Abby said, sliding it on her pinky.
Carly stood beside the bed. “Wanna see Abby’s spots?” She pulled back the covers.
Dee Dee’s eyes got big.
“Come look,” Abby said. She propped her pillows up behind her, showing off the bumps.
“They’re everywhere!” Dee Dee said.
Abby leaned against her pillows and grinned. “They kept me out of school all week.”
Stacy sat on the edge of the bed.
“Look out or you’ll catch them!” Carly shouted, pulling on Stacy’s arm.
Stacy smiled.”It’s OK. I had them last year.”
Carly frowned. “You might get them again.”
“Mother says you only get them once,” Stacy said.
“Really?” said Carly.
Dee Dee crept toward the bed. “That’s why I came over. My mother wants me to catch them.” She held her breath like she was scared, but then she sat down on the bed.
“We could get them together,” said Carly.
Dee Dee jumped up and said goodbye. She ran out of the room. Carly raced after her.
Abby slipped back under her quilt. “Quick, close the door” she said to Stacy.
Stacy hurried to shut the door. “Good idea. We have to talk.”
“What’s up?” asked Abby.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
Abby sat straight up in bed. A secret!
“Well, do you?” Stacy unzipped the pocket on her jacket. She pulled out a piece of paper.
Abby nodded. “I promise.”
She felt like a jitterbox for sure.
FOUR
Abby looked at Stacy’s paper.
There was a tree with a bunch of branches and lines on it.
Stacy pointed to the paper. “Do you know what this is?”
Abby saw the names on the lines. “A family tree?”
Stacy nodded. “It’s for school.”
“Wish I could go back soon,” said Abby. “Looks like fun.”
“Not really” said Stacy.
“How come?”
“I asked my mother, and she didn’t know very many names,” said Stacy, sadly.
There were lots of blank lines in the branches on Stacy’s paper.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
“Shh!” said Stacy, sadly. She stuffed the paper into her pocket. “Don’t say a word about this.”
Abby nodded. Then she called, “Who is it?”
“Shawn,” came the voice through the door. “Is Snow White in there?”
“Come look for your dog if you want,” Abby said.
The door opened. In came Shawn waving a dog collar. “Snow White—gone.”
“Are you sure?” Abby said.
“Carly say—time for Snow White to get chicken pox.” Shawn looked worried.
Abby and Stacy giggled.
Shawn looked puzzled. “Dogs get pox?”
Abby smiled. “Definitely not.”
“Good,” said Shawn, smiling.
“Maybe Jimmy took Snow White for a walk. Look for him, and you might find your dog” Abby suggested.
Shawn held up the dog collar. “Take dog walking without leash? Not smart.”
“You’re right,” Abby said. She thought about Snow White’s favorite place. “Look in the secret place, behind Carly’s closet,” she said. “Snow White likes to sleep there.”
“Good thinking,” Shawn said. He turned to Stacy. “Stay there. Do not leave soon.” Then he ran out of the room.
Stacy looked surprised. “I wonder what he wants.”
Abby said, “Quick! Show me your family tree again.”
Stacy unfolded the paper. “Hurry, I don’t want Shawn . . . uh, or anyone to see.”
“Why not?” Abby asked.
“Because, I think I’m adopted.” Stacy looked like she was going to cry.
“You do?” Abby said, surprised.
Stacy played with the zipper on her jacket. “My mother can’t find my baby pictures. Not a single one.”
Abby scratched the bumps on her feet. “Maybe they got lost when you moved here.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Stacy.
“Wait a minute!” Abby said. “You can’t be adopted. Everyone says your eyes look just like your dad’s.”
“That’s what my mother says. But I don’t remember him. He moved out years ago.”
Abby took a deep breath. She wished Stacy’s father lived at home. Right here on Blossom Hill Lane—the best cul-de-sac ever!
“I have an idea,” said Abby. “Look at your birth certificate. It will tell you the truth.”
“I tried that,” Stacy said. “My mother can’t find it either.”
Abby frowned. “Is it lost?”
“I told you—I must be adopted,” Stacy said. “Just like your Korean brothers and Snow White and . . .” She stopped.
Abby threw the covers off and scooted across the bed. She put her arm around Stacy. “And what?”
“And if it’s true, I don’t even know where I came from.”
Abby grabbed a Kleenex box off her dresser. “Here, wipe your eyes,” she said. “Why don’t you ask your mother?”
Stacy shook her head. “I did. She’s too busy.”
Now Abby was really worried.
Something was going on. She had to find out exactly what.
And fast!
FIVE
Someone pounded on Abby’s bedroom door.
“Who’s there?” Stacy called.
“Snow White and Goliath,” said a tiny voice.
Abby giggled. “That must be J
immy, my little brother.”
Stacy tossed her family tree paper under the bed.
Jimmy came in carrying a fluffy white puppy. “Snow White sleeping in secret place . . . waiting for kiss from Goliath . . . to wake up,” he said.
Abby and Stacy giggled.
“You have a fairy tale mixed in with a Bible story,” Abby said. “Snow White is not in the Bible.”
“And Goliath would never kiss a puppy,” said Stacy.
“Jimmy’s still learning about the Bible,” Abby said. She liked telling her adopted brothers the story of David and Goliath. In Korea, they had only heard Bible stories in the orphanage. Nowhere else.
Jimmy grinned and put the puppy down. Snow White hopped up on the bed and licked Abby’s face.
“No, no, Snow White,” shouted Jimmy. “Must not get itchy pox.”
Just then, Shawn came in with his school notebook.
Snow White leaped up on him, too.
“You are here!” said Shawn, petting his puppy. He put the collar on Snow White.
Then he showed his notebook to Stacy. He opened it to his family tree. He pointed to the grandfather line. “What did teacher say if person die?” he asked Stacy.
“You still write his name. Then the year he was born and the year he died. If you know it,” Stacy said.
“Oh,” Shawn said. “I do not know when grandfather die. Mother in Korea not know, too.”
Abby scratched her neck. “Let’s see your family tree,” she said to Shawn.
There were two names on each line. One for his Korean birth parents and one for Abby’s parents.
Shawn’s eyes shone. “I have two families now.”
Stacy peeked at Shawn’s family tree. She pointed to the line on the left side. “Is this your birth mother’s name?”
Shawn smiled. “Yes. First mother live in Korea. She very sick. Mrs. Hunter, Abby’s mother, now my mother. She adopt Jimmy and me. We very lucky.”
Stacy thought for a moment. “I think you’re lucky, too.”
Abby handed the notebook back. “Your writing is getting better, Shawn. I think it’s an A + paper.”
Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Good. I think, too.”
Then he and Jimmy left the room.
Stacy sat on the rug, beside the bed. “I want to know if I’m adopted,” she said.
“I’m good at solving mysteries,” said Abby. “I’ll help you.”
“When can we start?” Stacy asked.