The Girls' Revenge

by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

  Easy, he answered as the carols seemed to go on and on. Wally, who did not sing, began to grow tired. He could not even go to bed because he and his brothers were sleeping on the living room floor that night in their sleeping bags, so until the uncles stopped singing, there was no sleep for anyone, not even Peter.

  “God rest ye merry, gentlemen,

  Let nothing you dismay,…”

  The uncles sang, but as Wally's eyes began to close, as Christmas seemed to drift farther and farther away and Miss Applebaum seemed to float closer and closer, the words seemed to change:

  God rest ye, little Hatford boy,

  For much to your dismay,

  Remember what Miss Applebaum

  Will open Christmas Day….

  He put his hands over his ears to drown out the singing and was glad, when he crawled into his sleeping bag at last around eleven, that he felt himself finally drifting off into sleep.

  Miss Applebaum was the biggest thing on his mind Christmas morning, however. He got the Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt that he wanted, and the Nikes, the computer game, and the book about vampire bats, but he knew that as soon as Christmas vacation was over, he would still have to go back to school and face both Caroline and his teacher.

  He wasn't sure which would be worse. He had expected that Caroline would have put something really, really gross in the box she gave him, and it turned out to be a box for letters. Love letters, probably. Caroline Malloy was actually in love with him? Now he knew she was crazy.

  Wally had given the box back, of course, but what if she wrote love letters to him anyway? Was he supposed to keep them? What if the other guys found out? He wasn't ready for love! He wasn't ready for a girlfriend—least of all Caroline.

  “Dad,” he said later after all the company had gone and he and his father were picking up the wrapping paper. “Have you ever thought about living somewhere else?”

  “Where did you have in mind, Wally?” asked his father. “You want me to move down the block, maybe?”

  “No, I mean all of us. I mean…well, the Ben-sons moved to Georgia and the Malloys moved here, and I just wondered if we might ever go live somewhere else.”

  “Can't see any reason to,” his father replied. “I have a perfectly good job with the post office, your mother works in the hardware store, Buckman seems like a fine place to raise boys, and we have a lot of friends here. No, we don't have any plans to move.”

  It was when Wally thought of facing his teacher, however, that he thought of running away.

  Not only had he never given a girl a Christmas present, he was not a boy who gave teachers presents either. It was not just the thought of what Miss Applebaum would think when she opened the present Mom had delivered and found Wally's underpants, it was what she would do.

  What if he walked into Miss Applebaum's class the first day after Christmas vacation and she had all her gifts lined up on her desk—a new coffee mug, a paperweight, a pencil holder, a vase… And what if she thanked each person out loud and showed the gift to the class? What if, at the very end, she said, “And then, from Wally Hatford, I received this very strange present …” and held up his underpants for all the class to see? Underpants with a happy face drawn on the seat?

  Wally didn't think he could stand it.

  He even tried calling his teacher to explain, but there was no Applebaum listed in the phone book. Maybe she didn't live in Buckman. Or maybe she was unlisted so that boys who went around giving their teachers underpants couldn't bother them over school vacations.

  In the days that followed Christmas, Wally—who was usually happiest by himself, just lying on his back studying a spiderweb, or dragging a stick in the river—found he was happiest not being alone, because when he was alone, he started to think, and when he thought, there was only one thing that came to mind. Two, actually: Caroline and Miss Applebaum.

  On one of the days, when Jake and Josh were busy doing other things and even Peter was busy playing with the toys he got for Christmas, Wally walked downtown, where shoppers were busy returning presents they didn't want or looking for after-Christmas bargains.

  He strolled through the five-and-dime, wandered through the drugstore, and was looking through the paperbacks on a rack in Oldakers' Bookstore when he looked up to see Caroline Malloy standing on the other side of the rack, looking straight at him.

  Caroline spun the rack to the left and picked up a paperback. Wally spun the rack to the right. He didn't walk away just then or she'd know she'd scared him away, and Wally couldn't bear for her to think that.

  Why did she move here anyway? Why did she have to be in his class? Why did she have to be precocious?

  Wally realized, however, that she was going to be here eight more months at least—eight months, perhaps, before he knew if the Bensons were coming back or not. And if he didn't make peace with her soon, no telling what might happen.

  Both he and Caroline opened their mouths at the same time.

  “I shouldn't…,” said Wally.

  “I didn't…,” said Caroline.

  They each stopped.

  “What?” said Wally. He saw Caroline swallow.

  “I didn't mean to give you that box,” said Caroline. “It was supposed to go to Dad's secretary.”

  “He's giving his secretary a box for love letters?” asked Wally.

  “Not his love letters. She's engaged to be married, and Mom picked the present out, and I got the boxes mixed up.”

  Wally thought that over. Well, that was a relief. “What did you mean to give me?”

  “Uh…well, that was a mistake too. The secretary got it.”

  “What was it?”

  “You don't want to know.”

  Was Caroline laughing? Wally wondered. He found that he was starting to smile himself. “Yes I do,” he said.

  “Cat puke,” said Caroline. “With a big fat hairball in it and undigested mouse feet.”

  Wally's eyes opened wide. “That went to your dad's secretary?”

  “Yep.”

  Wally laughed out loud. Then he thought of Miss Applebaum opening the present intended for Caroline, and he stopped.

  “Miss Applebaum got yours, and I'm in big trouble,” he said.

  Now Caroline looked curious. “What was it?” she asked.

  “Those underpants you wore to give your report.” He grinned again. “With the happy face on the seat of the pants. And a note saying, 'Since you liked them so much, you can have them.' ”

  And suddenly Wally and Caroline were both laughing. Together.

  “Do you think she's opened it yet?” asked Caroline.

  “Of course. It's after Christmas.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Wally shrugged. “Catch the first Greyhound out of town. Oh, man, that first day back at school I'm gonna be dead meat.”

  Caroline moved around the paperback rack until she was beside Wally. Looking right into his eyes, in fact.

  “Why don't I go get them back?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “When vacation's over, I'll go up to her desk and just ask for them back.”

  “You will?”

  “Sure. I'll tell her they were meant for me.”

  “Okay,” said Wally. “Thanks.”

  As he walked home later, Wally could not quite believe what had just happened. He didn't tell anyone at home about it, Jake in particular. Peter, of course, liked the girls. Josh—he wasn't sure. But Jake? No way. Nevertheless, he began to think that maybe it had been a pretty good Christmas after all.

  When Monday came, Wally walked into his classroom and hung up his jacket. He sat down at his desk and got out his math book and pencil. But when he looked up, there was Miss Applebaum looking at him, her gray eyes staring right through him. Wally felt his backbone folding like an accordion. He seemed to be sinking lower and lower in his seat.

  And then, before he could say a word—explain or apologize—he heard Caroline rise from her seat be
hind him and saw her walk to the front of the room. While the other kids were still hanging up their jackets and milling around, Caroline faced the teacher and said, “Miss Applebaum, I think you got a present meant for me. It was from Wally Hatford. I wondered if I could have it.”

  She did it. Caroline actually did it! She liked doing things like this. Liked going up to the front of the room and doing something a little bit brave or dramatic or wild.

  “Oh?” said Miss Applebaum. “And what would that be, I wonder?”

  “Well, actually, it was a pair of underpants,” Caroline said.

  “Yes?” said Miss Applebaum.

  “With a happy face drawn on the seat.”

  Was Miss Applebaum smiling? Wally wondered. She was certainly trying not to.

  “And a note that said, 'Since you liked them so much, you can have them,' ” added Caroline.

  Wally swallowed.

  “And he really meant this weird little present for you?” asked Miss Applebaum, looking surprised.

  “I guess so. It was just a joke,” said Caroline in a voice as soft and meek and polite as a kitten. She can really act! Wally thought, impressed.

  Miss Applebaum reached down and opened the lower drawer of her desk. “Very well,” she said, taking out the square box, minus the angel wrapping paper, and handing it to Caroline. “Since you seem to know the contents so well, it's obviously yours. You may have it.”

  “Thank you,” said Caroline.

  She walked back toward Wally, deposited the box on his desk, smiled sweetly, and said, “For you, since you obviously like them so much.” And then she laughed, and Wally smiled, and he began to wonder: Who was the Crazie? Caroline or him?

  Twenty-one

  Paying the Debt

  Caroline did not tell her sisters what she had done for Wally. She didn't even tell them what Wally had been planning to give her. It was a secret—a secret between Wally and Caroline.

  For the rest of the week, she did not want to poke Wally in the back, bump his shoulder, tweak his ear, or run her ruler along the back of his neck. The Hatfords and the Malloys pretty much stayed to themselves. Until Sunday morning, that is, when Buckman awoke to four inches of snow.

  The girls were awakened by their father, who poked his head into every bedroom in turn.

  “Eddie?” he called. Then, “Beth? Caroline?”

  And when each girl rose up on her elbow and looked at him, he said, “It snowed again, it's Sunday morning, and there are three snow shovels in the garage. It's a good way to earn some money to pay off your debt, so I suggest you get up now.”

  There were groans and whispered protests from the three bedrooms, but the girls had no choice except to pull themselves out of bed, into their sweatpants and sweatshirts, and, after a hot oatmeal breakfast, to stagger sleepily out to the garage. They stood looking at the three snow shovels lined up like sentries against one wall.

  “I don't even know how much to charge,” Eddie said, her shoulders hunched, hands in her pockets. “We never had to do this before.”

  “Five dollars a house?” Caroline suggested.

  “Even if we did every house on Island Avenue, we wouldn't have enough to pay the rest of what we owe,” said Beth.

  All three girls were grumpy at being awakened, and Eddie, in particular, had that look in her eye.

  “Let's go across the river and knock on the Hatfords' door,” she said.

  Beth looked at her incredulously. “Why?”

  “Just to make them feel guilty,” she said. “To show them that we're up and working while they're still lazing around. That we can shovel just as fast as they can.”

  “Yeah, let's!” said Beth.

  With shovels over their shoulders like workers in a salt mine, the girls traipsed down the hill and across the river on the swinging bridge, icicles hanging off the cable handrails like teeth.

  There was no sign of activity at the Hatfords' or any other house on the street. The Hatfords' newspaper was still lying on a heap of snow out by the road.

  Beth picked up the paper, and the girls waded through the snow and clomped up the steps onto the porch. Beth knocked.

  They could hear a chair scrape the floor inside, then footsteps, and finally Mrs. Hatford opened the door, followed by Jake.

  “Why, my goodness, it's the Malloy girls, at eight o'clock in the morning!” she said. “Won't you come in and have some cocoa?”

  Jake backed up as though afraid that they might, and Caroline noticed that he was still wearing his pajama bottoms and T-shirt.

  “No, thank you,” said Beth. “We just wondered if you wanted your sidewalk and steps shoveled. Only five dollars.”

  “Well, aren't you the early birds, though!” Mrs. Hatford declared. “And here I have four boys with strong backs, who—”

  “We're trying to earn money we sort of owe our dad,” said Caroline in her most pitiable voice. “So we thought we'd start with you.”

  “Oh, well, in that case… Ordinarily I'd have the boys do the shoveling, but… You girls go right ahead, and when you're through, come inside for the five dollars and some cocoa as well.”

  “Mom!” Jake wailed, but the door closed, and Eddie, Beth, and Caroline exchanged grins as they thrust their shovels into the snow on the steps and began to scrape and push. They could hear pounding footsteps from inside and knew that Jake was waking up Josh and Wally and Peter, and together the four boys were probably looking out a window at them right now. “I'll bet they just can't stand this!” Beth said. “Us! Doing the shoveling for them!”

  “I don't know about that,” said Caroline. “Maybe they can stand it very well. Maybe they love to see us work.”

  But Eddie agreed with Beth. “They'll be embarrassed as anything. Imagine having the neighbors see girls shoveling the sidewalk for boys!”

  “What do you bet they come out and order us to go home?” said Beth.

  “Well, if you're right, they'll probably come out and do it for us. They'll just have to prove they're stronger and bigger and smarter and faster, when they're really dumber than doorbells and slower than snails,” said Eddie.

  They had finished the steps and half the sidewalk when suddenly the front door opened and out came Jake and Josh, followed by Wally and Peter, all wearing boots and jackets and mittens and caps.

  “Don't let them push us off,” whispered Eddie. “No matter what they say, their mom said we can do it.”

  “Shovel faster!” murmured Caroline.

  “Don't even look at them,” said Beth.

  Caroline was shoveling as fast as she could when four pairs of boots appeared in front of her, and she looked up to see the Hatford brothers looking back. Looking at her and Beth and Eddie.

  “Need some help?” asked Josh.

  “No,” said Eddie.

  “Really?” Josh said.

  “We're doing just fine,” Eddie responded.

  “I know, but how are you going to do all the other houses on the street? Mom said you're trying to earn some money…”

  “So what?” said Eddie. “We can do the sidewalks up one side of the street and down the other all by ourselves.”

  “Eddie!” whispered Beth. “We can't!”

  “Well, we thought maybe you'd like us to help,” Josh told her. “I mean, you could do one side of the street and we'll do the other. Or maybe we could work together on the same driveway.”

  “Yeah? And you guys walk off with all the money? No way!” said Eddie.

  Wally spoke up next: “What if we said you could have all the money?”

  Eddie, Beth, and Caroline stared at the four boys as though they had sprung four new heads.

  “You've got to be kidding,” said Caroline.

  “No, we're not!” Peter piped up. “Josh said we're going to help you so you won't be mad at us anymore.”

  “Shut up, Peter,” Josh muttered.

  “Well, if you're going to help, then help. Don't just stand there gabbing,” Eddie snapped, sti
ll not trusting. She dumped a shovelful of snow so close to Wally's feet she could have buried him had he been any closer.

  In response, Wally dug up a shovelful of snow and dumped it close to where Eddie was standing. Then the four boys began madly shoveling snow, dumping it as close to the girls as they could get without actually touching them, and the girls madly shoveled back. In less than two minutes, the rest of the Hatfords' sidewalk was as clean as a bald-headed baby.

  “Well!” said Beth when she looked around and discovered that they were at the end of the sidewalk. “That didn't take long.”

  Josh walked down the road to the next house and knocked on the door.

  “Shovel your steps and walk?” he asked. “Only five dollars to have it done in five minutes? Driveway's five bucks extra.”

  “Five minutes?” said the neighbor, looking out. “I wondered how I'd get to church this morning! Okay, it's a deal.”

  And so it went. People who had never paid before to have someone shovel their walk and driveway paid five or ten dollars just to have it done in five minutes.

  It got to be a game after a while. Who could do their side of the walk or driveway faster, the boys or the girls? Who could dump their snow closest to the other side without actually dumping it on anyone? It wasn't long before they had earned forty dollars.

  Only when Peter began to complain that his feet were cold did Caroline realize they hadn't collected yet from Mrs. Hatford. And so, some of them dragging their shovels, others with shovels over their shoulders, they headed back up the block, their breath frosty in front of them, and slogged through the snow to the Hatfords'.

  “Hey!” said Peter, cheerful now that they were going back to get warm. “I have a great idea! We could have sort of a business! Whenever it snows, we could go out together and make a lot of money!”

  “Yeah, and give it all to the girls,” Jake said dryly.

  “Why not?” said Eddie. “We're worth it.”

  “Ha!” said Wally. “You give these girls money, they buy you presents like boxes filled with cat puke and mouse feet.” He grinned at Caroline.

  “You should talk!” said Caroline. “You were going to give me a pair of underpants. Your underpants.”