The Pumpkin Principle

by Cynthia Blair

  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around school,” said Susan.

  “You bet!”

  With that, B.J. broke into his wide grin and was off.

  Susan stood on the front lawn for a few, seconds, watching him pedal away. Meeting a boy on her way home from school today was the last thing she’d expected. Especially one who was as much fun as B.J.!

  As she went into the house, just the slightest bit reluctantly, one thought was clear in Susan’s mind.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Chris all about B.J. Wilkins!

  Chapter Five

  When she stopped off at her locker, Chris was still keyed up over the encounter she’d just had with the new boy. But it wasn’t long before she was snapped back to reality. As she gathered the books she would need for the evening’s homework assignments, she remembered that she needed a pocket dictionary for English class. And thinking about that reminded her that she also needed shampoo, a new notebook for math, and some hand lotion....

  Oh, well, I guess it’s time for a little shopping spree, she thought. Telling Susan all about the newest development in my social life will simply have to wait.

  But as Chris stopped at a few of Whittington’s stores, she was in wonderful spirits. Everything she did seemed just a little bit more fun, given her lighthearted mood. She kept thinking about BJ. Wilkins. How much she’d enjoyed talking to him ... and how much she was looking forward to seeing him again. Even her dismay over the meeting of the dance committee and her inability to communicate successfully her desire to open up the dance to everyone, slipped to the back of her mind.

  Everything seemed perfect. That is, until she stopped into Petersons’ Bookstore and saw the long face of Mr. Peterson.

  “Hello, Chris. What can I do for you today?”

  “I need a pocket dictionary, Mr. Peterson. Is anything wrong?”

  The white-haired man didn’t even smile as he pulled three different pocket dictionaries off a shelf behind the counter and placed them before Chris so that she could choose one. “It’s my sister. I took her to see that retirement home this morning. Oh, it was nice enough. It’s just that I can’t help thinking that Cecilia doesn’t really belong in a place like that. Why, she’s perfectly happy being on her own, taking care of herself, living in that beautiful house of hers....

  “But she keeps on insisting that it’s not a safe place for anyone to live. She’s convinced that there are ghosts there. I know the whole thing sounds ridiculous ...”

  “Maybe she’s not just imagining things, Mr. Peterson. Maybe she really has been hearing things, or seeing things, or whatever it is she claims has been going on.”

  “I suppose that’s possible. But by now, I’ve tried everything. Talking to her, reasoning with her—even suggesting that Ellie and I move in with her. But she says she’s afraid for all of us. No, she’s determined to get out as soon as she can.”

  “That’s too bad. Gee, Mr. Peterson, I wish there was something I could do to help.”

  “Thanks, Chris.” His smile showed how much he appreciated her concern. “But this really isn’t your problem. Now, which dictionary suits your needs best?”

  Chris pretended to be intent on examining the three different volumes. But she was still thinking about Mrs. Carpenter’s insistence that her house was haunted. And wondering what, if anything, she and Susan could do to help. It was obvious that Mr. Peterson felt the whole thing was hopeless and wouldn’t be open to any suggestions. If only she and Sooz could come up with something on their own ...

  She decided to talk to her twin about it, the very first chance she got.

  It was late by the time Chris reached the street on which the Pratts lived. She hurried toward the house, anxious to find her sister. She wanted to discuss Cecilia Carpenter’s “ghosts” with Susan, but, even more than that, she couldn’t wait to tell her all about B.J. Wilkins. In fact, she felt as if she were about to burst at any minute.

  And then she stopped, suddenly frozen to the spot.

  There in front of her, a few hundred feet ahead, was her twin sister, walking with someone, talking and laughing and acting as if she were having the time of her life.

  And the person she was walking with was none other than B.J. Wilkins.

  Chris’s immediate reaction was to hide. Quickly, she stepped behind the trunk of a huge oak tree. She knew she was being silly, but she wanted to get a better look, to make sure she really was seeing what she thought she was seeing.

  Sure enough, it was Susan and B.J.

  There was no mistaking them. Her own twin, of course, she could recognize a mile away. And the boy with her was certainly B.J. Even though she couldn’t see his face all that clearly, he was dressed in dark pants and a Whittington High jacket—just as B.J. had been when she left him less than an hour earlier.

  Chris was totally confused. And terribly hurt.

  You need some time to think, she told herself. Before you jump to any conclusions, take a few deep breaths, go for a walk around the block. If nothing else, the fresh air will do you good.

  A few minutes later, Chris headed into the house. She’d thought about the situation and decided that the best thing to do was to reserve judgment until she found out more about it. Walking around the neighborhood wasn’t going to help her accomplish anything. And, besides, her schoolbooks were getting heavy.

  As Chris let herself into the house, she heard someone rattling pots and pans in the kitchen. She remembered that it was Susan’s turn to start dinner tonight, and she rushed to the back of the house in search of her twin.

  Sure enough, Susan was in the kitchen with a bright flowered apron tied over her navy blue plaid skirt and crisp white blouse. She was running cold water from the faucet into a saucepan, obviously about to cook the head of broccoli that had been cut into flowerets and was now waiting on the wooden cutting board beside the sink.

  As soon as Susan spotted her sister, however, her dinner preparations were forgotten.

  “Oh, Chris! You’ll never guess what happened to me just now on my way home from school!”

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you all the details in a minute, but I won’t keep you in suspense in the meantime. Chris, I met the most terrific boy in the whole wide world! He’s nice, and he’s cute, and he has the most wonderful smile! His family just moved to Whittington—and his name is B.J, Wilkins!”

  Chris gulped—and then forced herself to smile. “Oh, really? And how—how did you meet this—this ...”

  “B.J. B.J. Wilkins. Isn’t that a great name? Anyway, it was the funniest thing. Well, maybe not funny exactly ...”

  Susan was waving a wooden spoon as she spoke. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Chris couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her twin sister so excited. And it was all because of this new boy, this B.J. Wilkins....

  “It happened while I was walking home from school. I’d stayed late to do some research at the library. I mean, I was supposed to be doing research, but I ended up rereading my favorite parts of Gone with the Wind instead. Anyway, as I was on my way home, I was daydreaming about Rhett Butler instead of watching where I was going, and the next

  thing I knew ...”

  Susan proceeded to tell Chris all about her close call with B.J. and his bicycle and the happy ending to the near accident. She went on to describe him in detail: his sandy blond hair, his blue eyes, his impish grin—and, most of all, his directness and his sense of humor.

  “... and he said he wants to see my artwork sometime. Isn’t that wonderful, Chris? I can already tell that he’s someone special. Not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill high school boy. Not at all!”

  “Gee, that’s really great.” Chris tried to sound enthusiastic for her sister’s sake. But even though she was usually pretty good at acting, this time she just couldn’t manage to sound convincing.

  Her peculiar reaction did not escape her twin.

  “What’s the matter, Chris?” Susan was s
uddenly concerned. She sat down at the kitchen table and began toying with the pepper shaker. “You don’t seem very happy for me. Is there anything wrong?”

  “Wrong? Oh, no. What makes you think there’s anything wrong, Sooz?”

  Susan frowned. “You just look a bit ... I don’t know, distracted. As if you’re a million miles away.”

  Chris did some fast thinking. “I guess I’m just worried about Mrs. Carpenter. I stopped by the bookstore on my way home from school today, and Mr. Peterson is so upset. He took his sister to look at that retirement home this morning. And she’s ready to get rid of her house and move into that home all because she believes the place is haunted. It’s so sad....”

  “Did you find out anything about what’s been going on to make her think there are ghosts in her house?”

  Chris shook her head. “I got the impression that Mr. Peterson didn’t want to talk about it too much. Oh, Sooz, if only there was something we could do!”

  “Well, maybe there is.”

  Chris perked up immediately. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “No, not yet. But I’ll think about it. Hey, speaking of ideas, how did the Halloween Dance Committee meeting go? I was so excited about B.J. that I forgot all about it. How did it go?”

  “All right, I guess. It’s just that I didn’t quite manage to make everybody there understand my idea about making this year’s dance different.”

  “Same old orange and black balloons, huh?” Susan gave her sister a teasing smile.

  “As a matter of fact,” Chris said, laughing, “I can practically guarantee that those will be back again this year. Oh, maybe I’m making too much of this. After all, we are going to have a different twist.”

  “Oooh, what?”

  “Someone came up with the idea of having a theme for the dance. And everyone’s costumes will have to fit into that theme. You know, something like space travelers or the revolutionary war ...”

  “Or maybe the Civil War,” Susan said dreamily, remembering her fantasy of earlier that day. And it was not only the possibility of wearing a fancy ball gown that brought a smile to her lips and a glow to her brown eyes. “It sounds like a fantastic idea!”

  “I suppose so.” Chris made no attempt to hide her lack of enthusiasm, however. “I know it’s a good idea. It’s just not the kind of thing I had in mind.”

  She joined her sister at the kitchen table, then proceeded to tell her all about the conversation she’d had with Katy Johnson early that morning. Susan also knew Katy; she had met her through her twin, back when she, too, was in kindergarten.

  “So you see,” Chris finished, picking up the salt shaker and playing with it distractedly, “even though the theme idea is a good one, it doesn’t make it any easier for someone like Katy to get up the courage to go to the dance alone.”

  Susan frowned. “I see what you mean. Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll dedicate every free minute I have to trying to come up with a way to get Katy—and every other shy student at Whittington High—-to that dance. Even if I have to stay awake every night from now until Halloween!

  “But, in the meantime, I’d better get back to my broccoli or else we’ll end up eating dinner at midnight!” She stood up and returned to the stove. Almost immediately, she began to hum.

  Chris knew that making dinner for the Pratt family was not what had put Susan in such a good mood.

  “Tell you what, I’ll set the table,” Chris offered. She went over to the cabinet above the kitchen counter and took down four dinner plates.

  But as she arranged dishes and silverware on the Pratts’ dining room table, it was not her task that she was thinking about. It was not the Halloween Dance, either.

  It was B.J. Wilkins.

  Could I really have misread him so completely? wondered Chris. And here I’ve always prided myself on my ability to understand boys!

  Not that B.J. had seemed particularly difficult to understand. He certainly hadn’t tried to hide the fact that he liked her—a lot. Or at least that was how it had seemed!

  She was totally bewildered. She was also worried about her sister. If this B.J. was the type of boy who went around making every girl he met feel that she was special to him . . . well, that simply wasn’t the kind of boy that Christine Pratt wanted her twin sister to get mixed up with!

  But things were even more complicated than that. Not only was she confused by B.J.’s apparent interest in her and concerned over her sister’s interest in him, she was also a bit jealous. Yes, she liked B.J., too. She couldn’t deny it. And it hurt that he was interested in Susan....

  Enough! thought Chris. As she folded pretty green-and-white-flowered cloth napkins and tucked them underneath the knife and spoon that she’d placed at the right of each plate, she tried to reason with herself. Stop thinking about all this so much! After all, Susan can date anyone she wants—and so can B.J. You misunderstood, that’s all. B.J. is probably just friendly.

  She vowed not to give the matter another thought.

  But as the Pratt family sat down to dinner, Susan’s buoyancy was impossible to ignore. Even their parents noticed.

  “What on earth is that Mrs. Pratt asked innocently as she helped sound!” herself to some rice. “Is someone humming? Susan, you’re humming, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Susan grinned. “Guess I’m just in a particularly good mood this evening.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year!” Mr. Pratt boomed. “I expect you to start dancing on the table any minute now! Just don’t step on the biscuits. I can’t stand it when there are footprints on my biscuits.”

  “Oh, Daddy!” Susan laughed. “You make it sound as if there’s something unusual about being happy!”

  “Why, not at all! But being happy is one thing and smiling at your water glass is something else altogether. Hey, wait a minute. This is just a hunch, mind you, but is there by any chance a boy behind all this?”

  Susan just smiled secretively.

  “Chris, do you know anything about any Prince Charmings that have recently arrived on the scene?”

  Chris shrugged noncommittally.

  “I knew it!” Mr. Pratt groaned. “Next thing you know, there’ll be five people sitting at our dinner table. I’d better stock up on food now while I still can. Will one of you two twins please pass me some more of those delicious biscuits? I think I’ll sneak a few into my pockets!”

  Between her sister’s cheerfulness and her father’s jokes, Chris found it impossible to remain in her pensive mood for very long. By the time Susan brought out the special dessert she’d prepared, a plate of fudge brownies still warm from the oven, she was joining in with her family’s laughter.

  I guess you were just wrong about BJ.Wilkins, she told herself.

  And she made up her mind, then and there, to forget all about him.

  It never even occurred to Chris that doing just that was not going to be quite as simple as she thought!

  Chapter Six

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Christine Pratt!”

  Chris was standing in front of her locker, carrying half its contents in her left arm and sorting through the other half with her right, when she heard a voice behind her that sounded extremely familiar.

  It was first thing in the morning, just before homeroom, and Chris hadn’t quite prepared herself for coping with unexpected social encounters. Experiencing a mixture of glee, surprise, and anger, she whirled around so quickly that she nearly dropped the haphazard stack of books and papers that was balanced precariously on her arm.

  “Why, hello there, B.J.”

  The tone of her voice sounded odd, she knew—mainly because she wasn’t sure yet whether she was happy to see him or not.

  He, however, appeared to have no doubts over how he was feeling about seeing her again. He was grinning from ear to ear, and his blue eyes twinkled so merrily that Chris was reminded of the jack-o’-lanterns she had noticed earlier that morning on the Petersons’ porch.

>   Darn! thought Chris. Why does B.J. Wilkins have to be so charming?

  “Cleaning out your locker at this hour of the morning?” he asked cheerfully. He leaned against the locker that was next to hers, acting as if the two of them were the best of friends—even though they’d only met the day before. He peered inside, then commented, “There are only a few cobwebs in there. If I were you, I’d let it go for another month or two.”

  Chris couldn’t help laughing. “To be perfectly honest, I gave up on the idea of keeping my locker neat and organized a long time ago.”

  “I see. So while Christine Pratt is pretty and smart and full of good ideas about things like Halloween dances, the one area where she’s less than perfect is keeping her things in order.”

  He was being so openly flirtatious that Chris was caught off guard.

  “Actually,” she explained seriously, “I’m just trying to find an old homework assignment, one I did a few weeks ago. I’m positive I stuck it in this locker of mine, so it’s got to be here somewhere....”

  Just then, she spotted a piece of paper she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Here it is! Goodness, I’ve been looking for this for at least five minutes!” She eyed B.J. suspiciously. “Do you have magical powers or something?”

  His blue eyes narrowed. In a humorous Transylvanian accent, the kind that Count Dracula always used in the movies, he said, “Now you know my secret! I’m not only a mind reader; I also have the power to make things appear!”

  “I’m beginning to believe that! Well, now I can give this to Margie Baker. She missed the first few weeks of history class because she was originally assigned to another section. She thought that looking over the past assignments might help her to catch up.”

  Suddenly, Chris had an idea.

  “You know, if you think this locker is a mess, you should see my closet! I wish I were more organized—the way my sister is, for example.”

  She watched B.J. carefully, anxious to see his reaction to what she’d just said.