“How do you do, Ribsy,” said the puzzled policeman.
Ribsy sat down and held out his paw, the right one, too. The officer shook it. Henry was glad to see his dog do the correct thing for once.
“He…uh…well, he got a parking ticket,” said Henry.
“He what?” The policeman sounded baffled.
Henry pulled the crumpled ticket out of his pocket. “He got a parking ticket,” he repeated. “I can’t understand it. He wasn’t double parked. There was money in the meter and there wasn’t any car by it.” Then he explained about Ramona being hungry and Ribsy following him into the market.
The policeman looked at the ticket and began to smile. Then he laughed. A couple of other officers came to see what he was laughing at. They laughed, too. Henry felt uncomfortable and wondered if he had said the wrong thing.
“Did you never hear that it is against the law to tie anything to a parking meter?” the first officer finally asked.
So that was it! “No, sir,” said Henry politely. “I just tied him with a thin piece of twine. It wasn’t a big rope or anything.”
Chuckling, the policeman put the ticket in his pocket and patted Ribsy’s head. “Well…since you didn’t know about the law, I’ll see what I can do about this. But from now on you’d better find some place else to park your dog.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Henry gratefully. “Thanks millions.” Ribsy held out his paw again.
What a relief! Now Henry could bid four dollars and fourteen cents for a bicycle. No, four dollars and four cents. He had spent a dime on Cheezy Chips. “Come on, Beezus,” Henry said. “Let’s get in there and start bidding!”
5
Beezus Makes a Bid
Henry, Ribsy, and the two girls struggled into the mob on the driveway. Sometimes they moved ahead a foot, sometimes an inch, but most of the time they stood still. It seemed to Henry that a lot of awfully big people stepped on his toes. The children could barely hear the auctioneer above the noise of the crowd. “What am I bid for bicycle Number Seven?” the man was shouting.
Henry jumped as high as he could to see the bicycle.
“Quit jumping on my toes,” said the boy behind him.
Ribsy yelped. “You keep off my dog’s tail,” Henry said to another boy. He wondered how much he dared bid. Should he start with fifty cents or should he bid four dollars and four cents all at once and hope no one else had that much money?
“I’m hungry,” yelled Ramona.
Beezus rummaged in the box of animal crackers. “Here’s an elephant,” she offered. “You’ve eaten all the lions and camels.”
“No!” screamed Ramona. “I don’t like elephants.”
Henry was disgusted. “Don’t be dumb,” he said, wondering if Ramona would ever give him a chance to bid. “All animal crackers taste alike.”
“I don’t like elephants,” Ramona screamed again, looking as if she were going to cry.
“Oh, all right.” Beezus pawed through the box again. “Here’s a monkey.” To Henry’s relief, Ramona ate the monkey.
It seemed as if everyone were waving his hand and shouting a number at the auctioneer.
“Two dollars!” yelled the boy behind Henry.
“Ten cents!” shouted someone in front of him.
“A penny,” screamed a little girl.
“A million dollars,” sang out Scooter, who was still on the fence.
“Two million,” bid another.
“Quiet, everybody!” roared the auctioneer, mopping his face with his handkerchief. “I’ve been in this business twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like this. We have fifty items to sell and we don’t want to take all day. We don’t have time for any funny business. Now, how much am I bid for this bicycle? One dollar from the boy on the fence…a dollar and a quarter, a dollar and a half, two dollars from the boy in the red sweater…five dollars. Five dollars once, five dollars twice…six dollars.”
Only fifty items, when the paper had said a hundred! It seemed to Henry that his chance of getting a bicycle was growing smaller by the minute.
“A million dollars,” yelled Scooter again.
The auctioneer glared at him and continued. “Six dollars once…six dollars twice…bicycle Number Seven sold to the boy in the green sweater for six dollars!”
“Aw, it wasn’t any good, anyway,” Henry heard someone say. “It had only one wheel.”
Six dollars for a bike with one wheel! “I wonder how much a bike with two wheels is going to cost,” Henry said to Beezus.
“Maybe the people with the most money will get bicycles and go home, and then the kids who haven’t much will have a chance,” suggested Beezus.
“I guess I’ll stick around and see,” said Henry. The next item the auctioneer held up was a Taylor-tot. Henry was disgusted. The paper hadn’t said anything about Taylor-tots.
“Stop fussing, Ramona,” said Beezus. “I know you can’t see anything, but pretty soon Henry will get a bike and we can go home.”
Ramona began to pound Ribsy’s back with her fist. The dog looked around for a way to escape, but there were too many people.
“Cut it out, Ramona,” ordered Henry.
Then a strange woman standing behind Henry spoke. “No, no, little girl. Mustn’t hit the doggie. Love the doggie.”
Ramona stared at the woman. Then she threw both arms around Ribsy’s neck and squeezed as hard as she could. Ribsy struggled.
“Hey, you’re choking him,” objected Henry, as Beezus pried her little sister loose from the dog.
“I want to go home,” said Ramona.
“After while,” answered Beezus crossly.
Henry saw that he had better start bidding on a bike. If Ramona wanted to go home, they would probably have to go home. Next a bicycle was sold to a boy who bellowed, “Seven dollars and sixty-four cents!” A battered tricycle went for a dollar. Another bicycle sold for five dollars to a boy who got his friends to yell with him, so he could be heard above the crowd. The boy behind Beezus had bid seven dollars, but the auctioneer didn’t hear.
Henry saw that, with so many people shouting and waving their hands and the auctioneer trying to sell the bicycles as fast as he could, it was more important for a boy to make himself heard above the crowd than to have a lot of money to spend.
If only there were some way he could make the auctioneer hear him! Henry jumped as high as he could for a glimpse of the next bicycle. The handlebars were missing, but he was sure that if he got it, he could find a pair of old handlebars somewhere. “One dollar!” he yelled at the top of his voice. His words were lost in a chorus of bids.
“I’ll help you yell,” said Beezus.
“Two dollars!” they shouted together. The auctioneer did not hear them.
Just then there was a lull in the noise of the crowd and Ramona’s voice rang out. “I’m going to throw up,” she announced.
Instantly everyone standing near her managed to move a few inches away. Ribsy used the extra space to sit down and scratch.
“Beezus, don’t just stand there. Do something.” Henry was thoroughly alarmed. Leave it to Ramona to get sick just when he had figured out the way the auction worked.
Beezus calmly handed Ramona another animal cracker. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to her,” she said.
The lady behind Henry tapped Beezus on the shoulder and asked, “Don’t you think you had better take your little sister home?”
“She’s all right. She just says that when she wants her own way,” Beezus explained. “Come on, Henry, I’ll help you yell again.”
“I’m going to throw up,” screamed Ramona.
Henry was relieved that Ramona was really all right, even if he had missed another chance to bid. The lady was not so sure. Again she tapped Beezus on the shoulder. “I think you’d better take your sister home. Maybe she isn’t feeling well.”
Ramona beamed. Beezus and Henry exchanged unhappy looks. It looked as if Ramona was going to get her own way. She usua
lly did.
“Come with me,” said the lady firmly. “I’ll help you through the crowd.”
“Honestly, she’s all right,” protested Beezus. “She’s just saying that.”
“She’s OK,” agreed Henry. “Beezus knows.” There must be some way to keep Ramona from getting her own way.
The lady did not seem to hear. “Take my hand, little girl,” she said, as if she meant to be obeyed. “Come on, children.” The people who were standing near them were still eyeing Ramona uneasily and were glad to make a path to let them through.
Why couldn’t the lady leave them alone? Henry didn’t see how he could bear to move away from the auctioneer, when it had been such hard work to get through the crowd. For a minute he thought he wouldn’t leave. If he let Beezus and Ramona go alone, maybe he would get a chance to bid. Still, his mother said he had to take Beezus with him, so maybe they’d better stay together. He didn’t want to catch it when he got home.
“Will you let us through, please? This little girl isn’t feeling well,” the lady repeated. The crowd, pleased to see that someone was leaving, let them through. Henry begrudged every step that took them away from the auctioneer.
At last they reached the sidewalk. “There you are,” said the lady cheerfully. “Run along now and tell your mother she had better put your little sister to bed.” Then she turned and made her way back into the crowd.
There they were, all right. Disgusted, Henry turned on Ramona. “Now see what you’ve done. How am I going to bid on a bike when we can’t even hear the auctioneer way out here?”
“I want to go home,” said Ramona.
“Don’t you want Henry to get a bicycle?” asked Beezus.
“No,” said Ramona.
Beezus grabbed her little sister by the hand. “Ramona Geraldine Quimby,” she snapped, “you’re coming with us and you’re going to behave yourself!”
“Yes,” agreed Henry. “I’m pretty tired of being pushed around by a little kid like you.”
Beezus glared at her sister. “And if you don’t behave I’ll…I’ll tell Mother about the time you waited until she went to the store and then tried to give the cat a bath in the Bendix. Then you’ll be sorry!”
Ramona sulked but she didn’t say anything. Wearily the children struggled into the crowd. Ribsy’s tail drooped. Henry was so hot and tired he felt it was pretty useless to go back at all. Ramona would probably think of something else, anyway. By staying on the edge of the driveway and squeezing along the edge of the police station, they moved slowly ahead.
At last they were able to hear the auctioneer again. Henry was afraid there were so many tall people in front of them that they couldn’t be seen even if they could make themselves heard. Beezus and Henry yelled experimentally a couple of times, but they really didn’t expect to be heard.
“I wish Robert and Scooter were here,” said Henry. “Maybe if we all yelled together he would hear us.”
“They’re on the other side of the driveway,” said Beezus. “We could never get through.” Then, looking frantically around, she gasped, “Ramona! Where’s Ramona? I can’t find her.”
“Maybe she went home.” Henry looked around, but it was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction.
“She was down here with Ribsy a minute ago.” Beezus looked frightened. “Henry, what will Mother say if I’ve lost her for keeps?”
“She must be around some place. She couldn’t go far in this crowd.” Henry was disgusted. First it was a parking ticket on a dog, because Ramona was hungry. Then because of her they were taken out of the crowd. And now she had to wander off when he was trying to bid on a bike. That’s what happened when he tried to go some place with a couple of girls. Nevertheless, he looked around for Beezus’s little sister while the bidding continued.
“Where can she be?” Beezus was frantic. “Maybe she’s kidnapped.”
Jeepers, thought Henry. I hope she isn’t going to cry. He had enough troubles without Beezus crying all over the place. He knew Ramona couldn’t be far away, and he was sure no one would ever kidnap her. Especially not if they knew her. Now all he had to do was find her before the auction ended.
“If we went up in front, we could ask the auctioneer to ask about her,” suggested Henry. He didn’t mention that his chances of bidding would also be better.
“Have you seen my little sister?” Beezus asked the people around her.
Henry inquired if anyone had seen a little girl in a blue dress, but no one had noticed her.
“What are we going to do, Henry?” asked Beezus, blinking her eyes to keep back the tears. “I can’t go home without her. I’ve got to find her. I’ve got to.”
Then the auctioneer pounded his gavel and roared, “Quiet, everybody!” The crowd was almost silent. “Has someone lost a little girl?” He held Ramona up for everyone to see. Her face was streaked with tears and she clutched her slug in one hand.
“One dollar!” yelled Scooter.
“Quiet!” shouted the auctioneer.
“It’s Ramona!” Beezus cried out. “It’s my little sister.”
“Will you come up and get your sister?” asked the auctioneer. “Make way for the little lady to come for her sister.”
Hey, thought Henry, here’s my chance. I’ll go with her and get up in front where the auctioneer can see me and then maybe he can hear me bid. The people in front moved aside to let Beezus through. Henry started after her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the big boy in front of Henry demanded.
“With her,” said Henry.
“You’re not going to get ahead of me,” said another boy.
By that time the path the crowd had made for Beezus closed up again. Henry couldn’t let his one chance at a bicycle get away from him. “Beezus,” he called desperately, “if you see a good bike, bid for me. Four dollars and four cents.”
“OK,” Beezus answered through the crowd.
The auction continued. In spite of other people’s toes, Henry jumped as high as he could each time a bicycle was held up. If Beezus could make the auctioneer hear, it might be his. Two bicycles went by. Henry grew more and more uneasy, waiting to hear a shout of “Four dollars and four cents!” Beezus must be in the very front row. Why didn’t she bid? What had gone wrong?
Then the auctioneer’s voice rang out. “Sold for four dollars and four cents! Bicycle Number Thirty-two sold to the little lady who lost her sister.”
Beezus had bid!
Joyfully Henry sprang into the air to see his bike. He couldn’t see a thing, but that was all right. There was a bicycle waiting for him. A bike of his very own.
After that Henry lost interest in the auction. He was busy wondering what his bicycle looked like. He hoped it was red and had a horn and a light. Gradually the crowd began to leave, and Henry and his dog were able to work their way up to the front where Beezus and Ramona were waiting.
Beezus, who was holding a place in the line of people paying for bicycles, looked pleased and excited. “Henry, I got you a real good one with wheels and handlebars and everything. It’s in that pile. I had the man write your name on the tag.”
Henry took his place in line, and was trying to guess which bicycle in the heap was his when Robert and Scooter joined him.
“Did you find out about the ticket?” asked Robert.
“Sure, and I got a bike, too,” boasted Henry.
“Yeah?” Scooter plainly did not believe him.
“Yes. And I’m not going to jail or anything, either.” Then Henry explained about the policeman and the ticket.
“I bet the bike isn’t any good,” remarked Scooter.
“It is too a good bike,” Beezus contradicted. “It has two wheels and everything. Of course it isn’t exactly new, but it’s a good bike just the same. You wait and see.”
“Sure, it’s a good bike if Beezus says so,” Henry bragged. “You just wait until I ride it in the Rose Festival parade.”
Gradually the
line moved forward. “Number Thirty-two,” said Henry, when his turn came. At last he nearly had his hands on his very own bike. He had had to run along the sidewalk beside Scooter on the way to the auction, but he was going to ride his own bike home. He counted out the four dollars and four cents.
“There’ll be something wrong with it. You just wait and see,” said Scooter.
“There will not,” said Beezus. “At least not anything important.”
The officer finally untangled Henry’s bicycle from the rest of the pile.
Scooter and Robert began to howl with laughter. Henry groaned. What could you expect when you went to an auction with a girl? The bicycle had two wheels and handlebars all right, but there was something else wrong with it. It was a girl’s bicycle.
6
Henry’s Bargain Bike
Henry was so disappointed he could hardly bear it. He could never ride a girl’s bike in the Rose Festival parade.
Beezus was right. The bicycle did have two wheels and handlebars. It did not, however, have a lot of other things. There was no air in the tires and very little paint on the frame. Spokes were missing, and because there was no graphite on the chain, the pedals made a groaning noise when they were pushed around. But most important of all, the bicycle did not have a bar from the seat to the handlebars. If only there were some way to turn it into a boy’s bike, the rest would be easy. With a few repairs, a coat of paint, and some paper trimming, it would be good enough to ride in the parade.
Henry sighed and started to push his bicycle home.
“I’m sorry, Henry,” said Beezus. “After some of the other bikes it looked pretty good, and I didn’t think about it being a girl’s bike.”
“Aw, that’s all right,” muttered Henry. He supposed it wasn’t really her fault. He couldn’t expect a girl to know anything about bicycles.
“Maybe you could find a girl who has a boy’s bike and make a trade,” suggested Beezus.
Henry thought this over. “The trouble is, girls ride boys’ bikes, but boys won’t ride girls’ bikes. If I found a girl who had a boy’s bike, she’d probably want to keep it.” He pushed his bicycle in silence for a while and then said, “I’ll just have to fix it someway, that’s all.”
Henry and Beezus Page 6