“As soon as my bumps crust over,” said Abby.
Stacy leaned down and looked under the bed.
“What are you doing?” Abby said, remembering the atlas she hid there. She held her breath.
“Finding my family tree,” said Stacy. “I hid it under here.” She pulled out the book of maps. “Hey, what’s this?”
Abby’s heart beat fast. “A project I have.”
She wished Stacy wouldn’t ask.
“For school?” Stacy asked.
“Uh . . . no,” said Abby, trying not to tell.
“What for?”
Abby scratched her head. “I can’t tell.” She pulled her knees up to her chin . . . thinking. About the doubly dabbly most creative birthday cake in the world!
“Come on, Abby. I can keep a secret,” said Stacy.
“I know,” Abby said.
“Then tell me, or I’ll have to solve your mystery, too. I’ll call it the Mystery of the Map Book,” Stacy said.
Abby wasn’t worried. Not one bit. Stacy couldn’t solve a mystery even if she tried.
SIX
It was Wednesday.
Abby’s bumps were scabby, so she went back to school.
At recess Stacy and Abby met near the swings.
“I have a plan,” Abby said.
Stacy looked around to see if anyone was listening. “About my adoption?” she whispered.
Abby nodded. “When does your mother get home?”
“5:30.”
“That gives us plenty of time. Today I’ll solve your mystery,” Abby said.
Stacy cheered, “All right! Meet me at my house after school.”
When the bell rang after school, both girls raced toward Blossom Hill Lane—the cul-de-sac.
The wind was blowing hard.
Abby dug her hands into her coat pockets. A quarter was in one pocket. Three gummy bears were in the other.
Abby ran beside Stacy.
The cul-de-sac seemed quiet as they entered Stacy’s house. Sunday Funnies, Stacy’s cock-a-poo, barked as they came in the door. He shook his furry white head.
The girls headed straight for the master bedroom.
Stacy pointed to a file drawer. “My mother keeps important papers in there,” she said.
Abby’s heart pounded. She felt like a jitterbox inside. This isn’t right, Abby worried. We shouldn’t be snooping.
Then Abby looked at Stacy’s face. This was something important, and she wanted to help her friend.
Abby took a deep breath and pulled the handle.
Locked!
“Where’s the key?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Stacy.
“Let’s look around.” Abby led the way.
First, to the closet. They looked in the shoe boxes. No key.
They looked in the lamp table beside the bed. A package of gum, some tissues, and a Bible were inside. But no key. Abby felt even worse about snooping.
“Where could it be?” asked Abby. “Think hard.”
Stacy scratched her head. “Where would you hide a key?”
“Good question!” Abby dashed off to the kitchen.
“Now what?” asked Stacy.
Abby went to the refrigerator. She opened the freezer door. “This is the safest place in the house,” Abby said. “In case of fire, the freezer is a good place to keep important stuff.” She pulled three pizza boxes out.
Stacy took out a half gallon of ice cream. And bags of strawberries from her grandma’s garden. There were frozen vegetables. A pot roast. Two bags of hot dogs. The girls stacked them on the floor.
Sunday Funnies sniffed at the carton of ice cream.
Abby peeked in the freezer. “Well, that’s it. There’s nothing left.”
Then she spotted something shiny way in the back.
It was a key stuck to the side.
“Look at this!” shouted Abby, grabbing the key.
“You’re amazing!” Stacy said as the girls raced back to the bedroom.
Abby turned the lock and opened the file drawer. “Look under the B’s for birth certificate,” she said.
Stacy found the file folder and pulled it out.
Opening the folder, Abby saw only one birth certificate. It was Stacy’s mother’s.
“See what I mean?” said Stacy.
Abby thought for a minute. Maybe Stacy is right. Maybe she is adopted!
Detectives don’t cry. But Abby sure felt like it when she saw Stacy’s face. Being adopted was a good thing. Why hadn’t Stacy’s mother told her?
Then she remembered the freezer. And all the food. “Hurry, before your mom gets home!”
The girls raced to the kitchen.
“Oh, no!” cried Stacy. “I’m in trouble now.”
Sunday Funnies crouched under the table. He had torn the pot roast open and was half finished with the ice cream. Chocolate ice cream was all over his face and paws.
“Quick! We have to do something before my mother gets home!”
Abby took the ice cream carton away from Sunday Funnies. She threw it in the trash with the slobbery pot roast.
The girls piled the rest of the food back into the freezer.
Then Stacy cleaned up the floor.
“I’ll use my allowance to buy another roast. And some ice cream,” Abby said. Then she remembered Shawn’s birthday surprise. Buying ice cream and a pot roast would use up all her savings.
Phooey! So much for the greatest cake in the world, she thought.
Abby hurried home to get her money. There was a huge lump in her throat.
SEVEN
It was starting to snow.
Abby hopped on her bike and headed for the grocery store. Snowflakes tickled her face.
She pedalled hard, thinking about the cake that could’ve been.
Now Shawn would never get his birthday cake. All because of the stupid detective stuff!
At the store, Abby found a roast. It looked like the one Sunday Funnies had torn open. She found the same brand of chocolate ice cream. She paid for it with every cent she had.
Pushing sad thoughts away, she headed for Stacy’s. At last, she rang the doorbell.
“Come in!” called Stacy. “I’m in the bathroom giving my dog a bath. He’s a chocolatey mess.”
“I have another pot roast and some ice cream,” Abby said. “Your mom will never have to know.”
“Thanks,” yelled Stacy. “Sorry about the money.”
“It’s my own dumb fault” Abby said. She went into the bathroom.
“No it isn’t,” Stacy said. She rubbed more soap on the puppy’s head. “We were in it together.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Abby said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re adopted. Look how much your parents love you.”
“I know that,” said Stacy. “It’s not so much being adopted . . . if I am. I just wish my parents had told me.” Stacy sighed. “Your brothers, Shawn and Jimmy, know all about their adoption.”
“They were older when it happened,” Abby said. She heard the garage door open. “Sounds like your mom’s home,” she said. “I better leave.”
“No, wait,” said Stacy. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?” Abby pulled a towel off the rack and handed it to Stacy.
“I’m going to ask my mother some questions. And I want you to listen.” Stacy drained the dirty bath water.
There were footsteps in the hallway. “Stacy, I’m home,” said her mother.
“Coming!” called Stacy. She lifted Sunday Funnies out of the tub.
Abby helped dry him.
“Follow me,” Stacy said.
Abby followed her friend to the kitchen.
Stacy pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer. She sat down at the table. Abby did, too.
Stacy took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you, Mom.”
“Sure, honey. What’s up?”
Stacy shot a nervous look at Abby. “What happened on the day I was born?”
“What do you mean, dear?” her mother asked.
“I need to know for my homework,” Stacy said. “Were you there?”
Stacy’s mother looked at her. She set the dishes on the counter. “Of course I was.”
“How soon did you see me?” Stacy asked.
“A few hours after you were born.”
Stacy laughed. “A few hours? That’s a long time to wait, don’t you think?”
Her mother opened a drawer and took out a spoon. “Why do you ask?”
Abby looked at Stacy. She held her breath.
Stacy stood up. “What happened to my birth certificate?”
“I really don’t know,” her mother said. “But we need to set the table now.”
“Did you take any pictures of me when I was born?” Stacy asked.
Mrs. Henry pushed her hair back. She sighed. “I think your father did.”
Stacy wrote something on her paper. “Does he still have them?”
“It’s late now, Stacy. You know how sloppy I am at keeping records sometimes. Can we please talk about this later?” her mother said.
Abby stood up. “I better go home now. See you tomorrow, Stacy.”
Stacy scrunched up her face. “OK, Abby.”
Abby felt funny. Stacy’s eyes didn’t look like things were OK.
They spelled trouble. Big trouble!
Abby felt like a jitterbox.
Something was crazy wrong!
EIGHT
After supper Abby checked under her bed.
Good! The atlas was still there. Her sketch of South Korea marked the page: She stared at the map.
Then she looked at the teddy bear calendar on the wall. Only ten more days till Shawn’s birthday!
Abby knelt beside her bed. She prayed, “Please, Lord, help me get some money for my brother’s birthday party.”
The next day Abby met Stacy in the lunch room. They sat at a long table next to the wall.
Abby leaned against the wall. “I have an idea, Stacy. Why don’t you call your dad?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Stacy said. She dipped a spoon into her chocolate pudding.
The girls next to them traded sticks of gum.
“You could ask your dad to send some of your baby pictures,” Abby suggested.
“Great idea,” Stacy said.
“Maybe he knows something about your birth certificate,” Abby said, smiling. She hoped her idea would help.
“You’re a good friend, Abby Hunter,” Stacy said.
Abby felt warm inside.
“I’m going to call a meeting of the Cul-de-sac Kids,” Stacy said.
“When? Why?”
“Tomorrow” said Stacy. “And don’t ask so many questions.” She had a sneaky smile.
“What’s up?” Abby asked. Something was. She could see it in her friend’s face!
“Wait and see” Stacy said. She went to dump her trash.
On Friday, everyone showed up at Dunkum’s house. His real name was Edward Mifflin. He was a third grade hotshot on the basketball court.
Dunkum had the biggest basement in the cul-de-sac. That’s where the kids liked to meet—in their socks. All the sneakers were lined up beside the stairs.
Abby sat in a bean bag near the TV. She was president. But today, Stacy was in charge.
The kids sat on the floor.
Stacy told them what her puppy had done. “Abby didn’t want me to get in trouble. So she used up all her money to replace the roast and the ice cream. Now she needs a loan from us. For something very important.”
Carly wiggled. Her eyes danced. Abby could tell she was having a hard time keeping the birthday secret.
Dunkum stood up. “Let’s hear it for Abby. I’ll loan her three bucks. Who will match it?”
Jason Birchall swayed back and forth. He could never sit still. Even with his hyper medicine. “I don’t have three, but how’s two-fifty?” he asked.
“We’ll take it,” said Dunkum. He smiled at Dee Dee Winters. “What about you? Got any cash to loan?”
“Just fifty cents.” She pulled out two quarters. “The tooth fairy came last night.” She showed the hole where her tooth had been.
Carly scooted over beside her.
Shawn raised his hand. “I save money. I give money to Abby.” He stood up and emptied his pockets.
Shawn handed the money to Dunkum.
Abby didn’t want her brother’s money. It was going for his cake! “Uh, that’s plenty without Shawn’s,” she said, quickly.
Eric Hagel whistled. “Hey, what about me? I have a dollar,” he said. “And Abby doesn’t ever have to pay me back.”
“Thanks,” Dunkum said, reaching for it.
Abby wished they would stop. God had answered her prayer with more than enough money for Shawn’s cake.
She waved her hands. “Yo, kids!”
“The president of the Cul-de-sac Kids wants to speak,” Stacy announced.
The kids got quiet. Even Carly and Dee Dee.
“Thanks for helping me out,” Abby said. “I’ll pay each of you back as soon as I can. Now, I want to invite everyone to a birthday party for my brother next Saturday. Come over after lunch.”
Shawn’s eyebrows shot up, then he grinned.
The kids cheered. “All right Shawn! Hurray for Abby!”
The meeting was over. The sneaker scramble began.
Dee Dee got Carly’s by mistake. They were red, too, but bigger.
After the kids left, Stacy sat beside Abby. “I’m going to call my father tonight,” Stacy said.
Abby stretched her legs. “That’s double dabble good!”
Stacy smiled. “I think it’s time to ask him a few questions.”
The girls got up and found their sneakers.
Abby’s were mismatched. One red, one blue.
“Be sure and tell me what he says,” Abby said. She put the money in her jeans pocket. “Thanks for helping. You’re a good friend, Stacy Henry.”
Abby ran all the way home. She had a birthday party to plan. Things were definitely terrific.
Nothing could go wrong now!
NINE
The next morning, Abby dashed over to Stacy’s. “Did you call your dad?”
Stacy stood in the doorway. She zipped up her jacket. “I chickened out.”
“Oh,” said Abby. She wished Stacy wasn’t so nervous about it.
They rode their bikes to the store. It was time to buy the birthday stuff.
Abby couldn’t make up her mind. Should she buy blue balloons? Or red ones?
“This is my Korean brother’s first birthday in America,” said Abby.
“Get him American colors,” Stacy suggested.
So Abby bought red, white, and blue bailoons.
Later, they hid the party stuff under Abby’s bed. Then Stacy went home.
After lunch, Stacy phoned. “Can I come over?” She sounded excited.
“Sure,” Abby said, pulling off her sneakers.
Ding dong! The doorbell rang.
Abby ran to the front door in her socks.
Stacy flew in the door, grabbing Abby’s arm. “I’m NOT adopted!”
“How do you know?”
“I called my dad. He has my birth certificate. And he’s going to send me a copy!”
They dashed upstairs to Abby’s bedroom.
“And that’s not all,” Stacy said. “He wants to come visit me sometime.”
Abby closed the door. This was super double dabble good!
Stacy sat on the rug. So did Abby.
“This is the best day of my life,” Stacy said. She pulled off her sneakers. “The mystery of my birth is solved.”
Abby laughed. “And you solved it!” She reached under the bed and pulled out a bag of balloons.
“If you need any help with the party, let me know,” Stacy said. “I’m not the best detective, but I’m a good fixer-upper.”
Abby ripped open the balloon bag. “Can you blow up balloons?”
“Sure,” said Stacy. And she blew up a blue one. It made her face bright red.
Abby clapped for her. “I can’t wait for the party.”
Just then, Carly came into the room. She had pink bumps on her arms and face. She was moaning.
“Look who’s got chicken pox,” Stacy said.
“Oh, no,” Abby gasped. “Stay away from Shawn.”
“That’s right!” Stacy snapped. “If he gets them, there goes the party!”
Abby jumped up and led Carly off to her own room.
TEN
It was three days before Shawn’s party.
Little Jimmy was sick in bed with chicken pox. Itchy spots were in his nose and in his hair. They were nearly everywhere!
Dee Dee Winters had them, too. And Jason Birchall missed school.
Abby was worried. Who’s next?
Two days before the party, Eric and Dunkum broke out with chicken pox. After supper Shawn did, too.
“Rats!” Abby said to her mother. “Now we can’t have the party.”
“But you can still bake a cake,” her mother said. “Shawn would like that.”
The next day, Abby hurried to the kitchen. She got out mixing bowls, eggs, and flour. Baking powder, sugar, chocolate squares, and canned frosting.
She posted the pattern of South Korea on the refrigerator with a clown magnet. Next she tiptoed to the boys’ room. They were sound asleep. Good!
Back in the kitchen, she followed her mother’s recipe. When she measured the flour and the sugar, some of it flew onto the floor. When she mixed the batter, it spilled, too. What a mess!
At last, she slid the cake pans into the oven and waited.
When the timer rang, Abby used the hot pads. The oven was very hot—so were the cake pans. She placed them on the counter to cool.
Then Abby heard footsteps. She turned around. There was Jimmy, making flour footprints on the floor. Snow White was behind him, licking up spilled sugar.
Abby stared at her little brother. “What are you doing up?”
“Thirsty,” Jimmy moaned.
Abby poured a glass of water. “Here,” she said, holding the glass out to him. “Now go back to bed.”
“Not tired,” he said, scratching his spots.
“Don’t scratch,” Abby said. “It’ll make marks.”
He walked to the refrigerator tracking flour everywhere. Reaching for the map of South Korea, Jimmy slipped and fell.
Chicken Pox Panic, the Page 2