By Saturday, both teams had gathered an impressive collection of soda cans. At six in the morning, they loaded numerous large garbage bags into Carlie’s dad’s pickup, since he’d agreed to drop them by the store to cash them in before heading out to the woods. Amy had tied her and Carlie’s bags with pieces of bright red yarn. “Just so we can tell them apart,” she explained as they climbed into Mr. Garcia’s club-cab pickup.
“I think the winners should get a prize,” said Morgan, certain that she and Emily had outdone them.
“Yes,” said Amy. “I agree. Maybe the losers should buy lunch.”
“But then we’d have to use some of our money,” pointed out Carlie. “And that would mean less flowers and paint and things.”
“Oh, right,” Amy agreed.
“How about if the losers fix lunch,” suggested Morgan.
“You’re on,” said Amy.
Mr. Garcia just chuckled as he dropped the girls at Safeway. Then each pair of girls took a turn at the recycling machine, carefully loading their cans one by one until it was time to print out the receipt for cash.
“Twenty-four dollars and fifty-five cents,” announced Morgan, feeling a little dismayed. “I thought it would be more than that,” she admitted. “That was a lot of cans.”
“Twenty-nine dollars and thirty-five cents,” proclaimed Amy. “We win!”
“Wow,” said Carlie, “that’s more than fifty bucks.”
“That’s exactly fifty-three dollars and ninety cents,” said Amy.
“She’s the queen of mental math,” Morgan told Emily.
“Well, congratulations to Amy and Carlie,” said Emily.
“Looks like we’ll be fixing lunch today.” Morgan winked at Emily. Then as Carlie and Amy were at the register collecting their cash, Morgan told her that she’d already warned her grandma that the girls would be hungry for a big lunch today. “She’s got it all under control.”
Emily grinned. “Sounds like we’ll be eating in style.”
By noon the girls had dug up dozens of small trees and shrubs. Mr. Garcia had gotten permits in all the girls’ names, and each one of them filled her quota. Fortunately, because of Carlie and her dad, it looked like most of the plants might survive too.
“It looks like a mini-forest,” said Carlie as her dad closed the tailgate.
“Just think how great these are going to look planted all around the trailer court,” said Amy.
“But you’ll need to get them planted as quickly as possible,” Mr. Garcia warned them as he began driving down the forest-service road toward town. “You don’t want their roots to get dry.”
Amy sighed as she held up her filthy hands. “This is turning out to be pretty hard work.”
“But it’ll be worth it,” Carlie reminded her. “When you see how much better everything looks.”
“I hope so,” said Amy. “My fingernails are ruined.”
“That’s why you should use gloves,” Carlie pointed out.
“What’s for lunch?” asked Amy, staring at Morgan and Emily. “I’m starved.”
“Me too,” said Carlie, grinning. “And it better be good.”
“You have your cell phone on you?” Morgan asked Amy.
“Yeah, why?”
“If you let me call home, I can find out about lunch.”
As it turned out, Morgan’s grandma had already cleaned up their barbecue grill and had hamburger patties and potato salad ready to go.
“And brownies and ice cream for dessert,” Morgan added to finish describing the menu to her friends.
“Woo-hoo!” cheered Carlie. “Hurry up, Dad!”
Morgan figured it was a good thing that she and Emily had lost the can contest. She doubted that any of the other girls could’ve pulled together a lunch like her grandma. And as the long, hard day wore on, and the digging and planting continued, Morgan’s grandma continued to provide the girls with snacks and drinks.
“You four are amazing,” said Grandma as she looked at the fully planted landscape strip at the front of the trailer park.
“And just wait until we add flowers,” said Carlie. “It will be even prettier then.”
“And you should see the planters that her dad’s making out of some old wood,” said Amy. “They’ll go over there.”
“And we still have some painting to do,” Emily pointed out.
“And my dad’s making a letter V to replace the one that’s missing from the sign,” said Carlie.
“No more Harbor eeuw,” said Morgan. And they all laughed.
But as hard as the girls worked all day, they knew they had a long way to go yet. And even though the next day was Sunday, Morgan’s mom told her it was okay to continue the work. “But after church.”
“No problem,” agreed Morgan. “I already promised Emily that we’d take her with us again.”
So on Sunday afternoon, after church, Carlie talked her aunt into driving the girls over to a nursery where all the flowers were on sale. “Tia Maria is kind of a flower expert,” explained Carlie as they drove across town. “She can help us to pick the right ones for the right places.”
“Why don’t we just pick the ones that are prettiest?” asked Amy.
“Because some flowers like to grow in the shade,” said Carlie. “And some like the full sun.”
“And there’s a lot of full sun out in front,” said Emily.
“We need to get some paint too,” said Morgan. “For the sign.”
“But nothing too wild,” warned Amy. “No garish colors, Morgan.”
Morgan frowned. “Are you suggesting that I’d pick out garish colors? Moi?”
“Well, I’ve seen your room.”
Morgan pretended to be offended. “Well, I’ve seen your room too, Amy. And I wouldn’t just naturally assume that you’d want to paint the sign lavender. And you can be sure I don’t want to paint it something weird either. Actually, I was thinking of Harbor colors. Maybe tan and light blue; you know, like the sand and sea.”
“Oh, that sounds pretty,” said Emily.
By the end of the day, Harbor View looked totally transformed. After dinner, the neighbors began coming out of their homes and commenting on the improvements. But the girls didn’t see any sign of Mr. Greeley. And Morgan was starting to feel nervous. What if he didn’t approve of something? What if he’s mad that we repainted the sign?
“It makes me want to spruce up my own yard,” admitted old Mrs. Hardwick as she stood by the entrance and surveyed their work. “If it wasn’t for my arthritis, that is. Maybe I should hire you girls to help me out.”
“I’d love to help,” said Carlie. “I plan on being a real landscaper some day.”
“Looks like you’re off to a good start,” said Mrs. Hardwick. “You girls worked wonders with this place. And to think you did this all on your own. It’s really amazing.”
“Oh, we had a little help,” admitted Morgan.
“That gives me an idea,” said Mrs. Hardwick. “My son works at the Boscoe Bay News. I think I’ll give him a call. He might like to come out here to get this as a human-interest story.”
“Really?” said Amy, smoothing her hair as if she thought she might be photographed. “Do you think he’d come?”
“Don’t know why not.”
The girls were just sweeping mulch from the street and watering the plants when Gary Hardwick pulled up and handed them his card. “I’m with the Boscoe Bay News,” he said, “and I hear you girls are regular little miracle workers.”
Morgan laughed. “God’s the only miracle worker I know.”
“We’re just hard workers,” said Amy. “And I have the blisters to prove it.”
So Gary took some photos and asked some questions and told the girls to watch out for Tuesday’s paper. The local paper was so small it only came out on Tuesdays and Saturdays.
Finally the girls called it a day. Morgan took a long, hot shower and tumbled into bed, so tired she didn’t know how she’d ever wake up in time to
walk with her friends to school. Still, she didn’t want to make Amy mad at her.
chapter eleven
“Has anyone seen Mr. Greeley around?” asked Morgan as the four girls walked to school together on Monday.
“I think he’s hiding out,” said Amy. “My parents said he’s probably worried that we’re going to send him a bill.”
Morgan laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“I wonder if he likes it,” said Emily.
“How could he not like it?” asked Carlie. “It looks fantastic. Everyone is saying so.”
“Yeah, but he’s such a grump,” pointed out Morgan. “Maybe he likes for things to be ugly.”
“Kind of like Oscar the Grouch?” said Amy.
“Exactly.” Morgan laughed. “Greeley the Grouch.” Of course, as soon as she said it, she felt a little guilty.
“What would we do if he didn’t like it?” asked Carlie nervously. “Do you think he could make us undo what we’ve done?”
“Maybe,” admitted Amy. “I mean, if he’s really the owner. My parents said that they’re pretty sure he is. So, I guess he can do whatever he likes with Harbor View.”
“Well, I wish he’d come out and show his face and thank us,” said Morgan.
But two days passed and none of the girls saw Mr. Greeley. Even when the article and the photo of the girls standing at the entrance of the park came out in Tuesday’s paper, Mr. Greeley was nowhere to be seen.
“Do you think he took a trip?” asked Morgan as the four girls sat at her table looking at the newspaper.
“Maybe he died,” said Emily in a spooky voice.
“Died?” Carlie frowned at her.
“Yeah,” continued Emily, getting even more dramatic. “He could be over there right now, lying on his floor, dead!”
“Stop it,” said Amy. “You’re creeping me out.”
“Just kidding,” said Emily, tossing a sly grin at Morgan.
“Oh, he’s probably just lying low,” said Morgan. “He has to be embarrassed that it took us four girls to get this place back into shape.”
“Yeah, I bet he’s ashamed that he didn’t do something like this way sooner,” said Carlie. “Do you think he’ll even help us to keep it up?”
“That’s a good question,” said Amy. “I don’t want to spend my whole summer on a yard crew.”
“We could take turns,” suggested Carlie. “I don’t mind doing it.”
“Yeah,” said Amy sarcastically. “We could take turns and then we could send Mr. Greeley the big fat bill!”
A couple more days passed without a word from Mr. Greeley, and Morgan was actually beginning to think that Emily could be right. What if Mr. Greeley really was dead? Wouldn’t she feel terrible for calling him Greeley the Grouch?
On Thursday night, before going to sleep, she decided she should be praying for Mr. Greeley. In fact, she was surprised this hadn’t occurred to her sooner. The poor old guy probably doesn’t have anyone who cares enough to pray for him. And tomorrow she would tell Emily about her plan and see if she wanted to pray for him too. More than ever, she hoped the old man wasn’t dead!
Morgan wasn’t sure what made her get up so early on Friday morning. Maybe it was because this was the last day of school and she was excited to see summer vacation officially begin. Or maybe she just sensed that something was up. But as she stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window that overlooked the entrance to the mobile-home court, she suddenly felt sick.
“Mom!” she screamed. “Grandma!”
“What is it?” said Mom as she ran into the kitchen half dressed.
“What on earth?” cried Grandma. “Are you hurt?”
Morgan stood in front of the window, pointing. “Look!”
Mom leaned over. “Oh, my!”
“Oh, dear,” said Grandma sadly.
Plants were pulled out by their roots. Trash was thrown all over the place. Even the recently painted sign had been vandalized, with red paint splattered like blood across it.
“Who would do this?” said Morgan, tears of anger streaming down her cheeks.
Grandma put her arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know, dear. But whoever did this must be very disturbed.”
“And mean,” said Mom. “I’m so sorry, Morgan. After all your hard work … “
“I’m going out to see how bad it is,” said Morgan.
“I’m calling the police,” said Mom.
“I’m going to pray,” said Grandma.
It looked even worse when Morgan got outside. Plants that they’d worked so hard to dig up and transplant looked like slain soldiers on the battlefield now, scattered all over the ground, wounded and dying.
“What happened?” cried Carlie, coming over to join her.
“Someone is crazy,” said Morgan, sadly picking up a small pine tree.
“Why?” said Carlie, sobbing loudly as she picked up a smashed marigold plant. “Why would someone do this? Why would they hurt these poor innocent plants?”
“And us.”
Soon Amy and Emily were out. All four walked around, surveying the damage and grieving as they attempted to salvage what they could before it was time to go to school. A patrol car arrived just before eight, and Morgan’s mom spoke to the police officers, giving out as much information as they had. And that was practically nothing.
“You girls are going to be late for school,” Mom called out. “You better get going.”
“Do we have to?” asked Morgan. “Who will clean this up?”
“It’s your last day,” said Mom. “You’re supposed to go and have fun.”
“Yeah, right,” said Morgan in a grumpy voice.
“Let’s go,” said Amy. “We might not be tardy if we hurry.”
“Who cares?” said Morgan. “It’s the last day anyway.”
“I have a perfect attendance record,” admitted Amy. “And as upsetting as this stupid vandalism is, I don’t intend to blow it now.”
“I usually love the last day of school,” said Morgan as the four girls walked as fast as they could toward school. “Now, I don’t even care.”
“It’s a waste of time,” said Amy.
“Why?” asked Carlie.
“Because you know we won’t do any schoolwork. We’ll just play silly games and stuff. I think they should just cancel the last day of school altogether.”
“How would you do that?” asked Emily. “No matter what you called it—or even if you did it a day early—there’d still have to be a last day.”
“But it could just be a regular day,” insisted Amy.
They argued back and forth about this as they hurried to school. And Amy’s perfect record remained as they got into the classroom just before the bell rang.
It turned out to be an okay day, but only because of all the fun and games, which would have been more fun under other circumstances. Still, Morgan was glad when it was over. And as she gathered up all her junk and loaded it into her backpack, she began to think about what they were about to go home to, and suddenly she felt like crying.
“Are you sad to be leaving sixth grade, Morgan?” asked Miss Thurman with concerned eyes.
“Hmm?” Morgan stared up at her. “Yeah, I mean, I guess so.”
“Well, you’re going to do just fine in seventh grade,” her teacher assured her. “Just make sure you do your homework and don’t get behind.”
Morgan forced a smile. “Yeah. I’ll try to remember that.”
Soon all the good-byes and good lucks had been said, and the four girls were trudging back toward home again.
“I’m so bummed,” said Morgan when they were about halfway there.
“Me too,” said Carlie. “I feel like someone has died.”
“Who do you think did it?” asked Amy. “Who could be that mean? That heartless?”
“Mr. Greeley is pretty mean,” said Emily.
“You don’t think he’d do something like that, do you?” said Carlie. “I mean, especially if he owns
the place. It doesn’t make sense.”
“But what if …” Emily seemed to be noodling on something. “What if he had a reason for keeping the place looking run-down?”
“A reason?” said Carlie. “What could that be?”
“Maybe tax evasion,” suggested Amy. “My parents are always complaining about taxes. But they say that tax cheaters do time.”
“Or maybe Mr. Greeley wants the trailer court to get so run down that everyone leaves,” said Emily.
“Why?”
“Maybe he wants to redevelop it like Boscoe Bay Resort,” said Emily. “My mom works there, and she told me there was some big land scandal about that place.”
“That’s right,” remembered Morgan. “They had this big land-use war. It was in the news all the time. But finally the developers won.”
“Yeah,” said Amy. “My parents were against it too. They were worried that the resort’s restaurant would take business away from their restaurant.”
“Did it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Do you guys really think Mr. Greeley could’ve done something like this?” asked Morgan. “It just seems so weird.”
“Well, he is pretty weird,” said Emily.
“And he sure has been staying out of sight.”
“Yeah,” agreed Emily. “He wasn’t even around this morning. You’d think he’d at least have come out to talk to the police.”
“Yeah,” said Amy. “That’s pretty suspicious.”
Now they were almost home, and Morgan’s stomach began to feel slightly sick as she prepared herself to witness the damage all over again. But as the entrance to Harbor View came into sight, she noticed that several people from the neighborhood seemed to be milling around. And as they got closer, it became apparent that these people had shovels and wheelbarrows and they seemed to be working.
“Look!” shouted Carlie, starting to jog toward the trailer court. “They’re fixing it back up for us!”
Sure enough, members of the girls’ own families, along with other neighbors, were out doing various chores. And the work that the girls had done during the past weekend appeared to be in the process of being restored.
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