The Kids of Cattywampus Street

by Lisa Jahn-Clough

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2021 by Lisa Jahn-Clough

  Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2021 by Natalie Andrewson

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Anne Schwartz Books, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Anne Schwartz Books and the colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web! rhcbooks.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Jahn-Clough, Lisa, author. | Andrewson, Natalie, illustrator. Title: The kids of Cattywampus Street / Lisa Jahn-Clough ; illustrations by Natalie Andrewson.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Anne Schwartz Books, [2021] | Audience: Ages 7–10. | Audience: Grades 2–5. | Summary: Eleven stories about the eleven kids who live on the long and twisty Cattywampus Street out in the middle of Nowheresville.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2020027315 | ISBN 978-0-593-12756-8 (hardcover) | ISBN 978-0-593-12757-5 (library binding) | ISBN 978-0-593-12758-2 (ebook) Subjects: CYAC: Neighborhoods—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.J153536 Ki 2021 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  Ebook ISBN 9780593127582

  The illustrations were rendered digitally.

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  Penguin Random House LLC supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to publish books for every reader.

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  This book is dedicated to two kids named Ellery and Acadia because they heard a lot of these stories as I was writing them and made many helpful comments! However, they will not be kids forever; therefore, it is also dedicated to the kid who is holding this book in their hands and reading these very words. And that kid is…YOU!

  —L.J.C.

  To every toy store that sparked my imagination

  —N.A.

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  So It Begins…

  The Magic Ball

  The Mean Girl

  Waffles for Breakfast

  A Very, Very, Very Sad Story

  The Happily-Ever-After House

  A Perfect Pet

  Silly Little Monkey

  The Loveliest Song

  The Trunk in the Attic

  A Tiny Baby Froglet

  Ghost in the Toy Store

  So It Ends…

  About the Author

  I am going to tell you some stories about the kids who live on Cattywampus Street.

  Have you ever traveled there? You'd know if you had. Cattywampus Street is very crooked and twisty, way out in the middle of nowhere. In fact Cattywampus actually means “crooked and not lined up properly.” And after the crookedest twist, right before the train tracks, where the pavement ends, is the Waddlebee Toy Store.

  The Waddlebee Toy Store has been around as long as anyone can remember. The paint is peeling off the wooden clapboards, a window or two is broken, and the door hangs crooked.

  Both inside and outside Waddlebee’s and all up and down Cattywampus Street, strange things have been known to happen….

  But these stories are not about the toy store or the street. As I said, they are about the kids. The kids’ names are Lionel, Lindalee, Hans, Evelyn, Charlotta, Rodney, Mateo, Ameera, Emmett, Bob, and Ursula. Some might seem just like you; others might seem nothing at all like you. You might wish you were like these kids, and you might wish the things that happen to them could happen to you. On the other hand, you might wish nothing of the sort whatsoever. You’ll have to read the stories to see.

  You might find these stories odd or mysterious, silly or scary, happy or even sad. But however you find them, I hope you like them. And if you are ever winding along Cattywampus Street and pass the Waddlebee Toy Store, watch out—you just might end up in one of these stories yourself!

  This is the first story, and it is about Lionel.

  Lionel lived in the first house on Cattywampus Street. He was a nice boy, a quiet boy, a boy who was easy to get along with. Everybody liked Lionel.

  One day Lionel went to buy a magic ball.

  Now, you might think it silly to try to buy a magic ball. Maybe you don’t believe in magic. But Lionel believed in magic, and he had been saving up for a long, long time to buy a magic ball. Finally, he had enough money.

  Lionel walked all the way to the Waddlebee Toy Store at the end of Cattywampus Street, where the pavement ends. The toy store was on the first floor of a two-story building. It had an old sign above the door that said waddlebee in faded red letters. The sign didn’t even say it was a toy store, but you could tell it was because of the display in the front window. There were stuffed animals (lions and tigers and bears), a big dollhouse, floppy puppets, squeaky toys, windup toys, toy cars, toy trucks, toy trains, all kinds of puzzles and games, and, yes, some balls.

  Lionel opened the door and a tiny little bell went jing-a-ling-ling.

  The shopkeeper looked up and frowned. She seemed like she was in a bad mood, but Lionel walked over to her anyway.

  “Do you have any magic balls?” he asked.

  The shopkeeper grumbled something Lionel couldn’t understand and pointed to the back of the store.

  Lionel walked along the dusty, dark aisles. He passed a stuffed monkey, a plastic squeaky frog, some rubber spiders, and a lot of balls of all different colors and sizes. But none seemed magic. So he kept going.

  Finally, in a way, way back corner, on the tippy-top shelf behind a bunch of blocks, was one ball with a bright red star. The star twinkled in the dim light, casting a reddish glow on Lionel’s face.

  Lionel smiled. This was the magic ball he was looking for!

  But the ball was way too high for him to reach. How would he get it down?

  He could ask the shopkeeper, but she was busy yelling at another customer and he didn’t want to interrupt.

  So Lionel started wishing. This is what he wished: I wish that magic ball would roll off the tippy-top shelf and right into my arms!

  And lo and behold, it did! The magic ball with the bright red star rolled right into Lionel’s arms! The red star twinkled.

  Lionel brought it to the register.

  The other customer had moved on, and now the shopkeeper glared at Lionel over the top of her eyeglasses. “Are you sure you want that silly old ball?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Lionel. He paid for it and went on his way.

  Outside, he ran into his friends Lindalee and Hans. At least, he thought they were his friends, but being around magic can change people, and not always for the best. And in this story, Lindalee and Hans are not so nice, as you will soon see.

  “What’s that?” asked Lindalee, poin
ting at the magic ball.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” asked Hans, pointing, too. He always followed Lindalee.

  “It’s my new ball,” answered Lionel.

  “Why does it have a star?” asked Lindalee. She squinted at the star.

  “Yeah, why?” echoed Hans. He squinted, too.

  “It has a star because it’s magic,” Lionel told them.

  Lindalee reached up and tightened the pink bow in her hair. “What can it do that’s magic?” she asked with a gleam in her eye.

  “Yeah, what can it do?” Hans asked. He had a gleam in his eye, too, but he didn’t have a pink bow to tighten, although he wished he did. He tugged at his shirt collar instead.

  Lionel looked at the magic ball. Once again, the red star twinkled. “I’m not sure yet,” he said.

  Lindalee and Hans nodded at each other. Did they believe Lionel? I don’t know, but Lindalee definitely looked like she was up to no good. She may have even winked at Hans behind Lionel’s back.

  But Lionel paid them no mind. He said goodbye and continued on his way.

  Lionel didn’t know it, but Lindalee and Hans were following him.

  When he got home, Lionel put the magic ball on the top shelf of his closet, then went to his swim lesson. He couldn’t very well have taken the magic ball to the pool. What if he dropped it in the water and it lost its magic?

  After Lionel was gone, Lindalee walked up to his front door and rang the doorbell. Hans was right next to her.

  Lionel’s mother answered.

  “Lionel said we could play with his ball,” Lindalee said. She smiled very sweetly.

  “Yeah, he said we could play with it,” said Hans. He smiled, too.

  Lionel’s mother believed them. Why wouldn’t she? So she went to Lionel’s room and picked up the first ball she saw, a yellow one with stripes. She brought it out. “Here you go,” Lionel’s mother said.

  “No, no, no!” said Lindalee, stomping. “That is the wrong ball. Lionel said the ball with the red star.”

  “Yeah, a bright red star,” said Hans. And, yes, he stomped, too.

  So Lionel’s mother found the ball with the red star in his closet and gave it to Lindalee and Hans. Hans was about to say thank you, but Lindalee grabbed the ball and ran off. How rude! Hans ran after her.

  Lindalee and Hans were laughing so hard and running so fast that they forgot to look where they were going. Suddenly Lindalee bumped smack into a telephone pole and—whoops!—she dropped the magic ball.

  It rolled into the street. Uh-oh.

  “Stupid pole!” yelled Lindalee.

  “Stupid pole!” repeated Hans, even though he hadn’t bumped into it.

  “Stupid ball!” yelled Lindalee when she noticed the ball rolling away.

  “Stupid ball!” repeated Hans. Then he added, “I can get it.”

  Hans was about to chase the ball, when a police officer came out of nowhere and stopped him. “You can’t run into the street like that. You might get hurt,” said the police officer.

  The police officer may have stopped Lindalee and Hans, but he did not stop the magic ball. The ball rolled and rolled. It rolled across Cattywampus Street up onto the sidewalk, and it kept rolling. All the time the red star twinkled, though it could just have been the sunlight.

  Now, it so happened that Lionel’s swim lesson had been canceled because the instructor had a bad case of swimmer’s ear. At that very moment, Lionel was heading home, down that very sidewalk.

  And guess what he found?

  Yup!

  It was his very own magic ball, rolling right toward him. The ball stopped at Lionel’s feet and bobbled back and forth, as if it were excited. The red star twinkled extra bright.

  Lionel picked it up. “Wow—my magic ball knew just where I was,” he said.

  Then he noticed Lindalee and Hans on the other side of the street. They did not look happy.

  The police officer was still there. It looked like he was giving them a lecture.

  Lionel waved to his friends. They did not wave back, which he thought was a little odd, but he didn’t mind.

  After all, Lionel finally had a magic ball.

  Jing-a-ling-ling.

  As you may have guessed from the previous story, Lindalee was a mean girl.

  Hopefully, you have never met a girl as mean as Lindalee. And if you have, I am sorry.

  Lindalee was mean all the time—at school, at the playground, even at birthday parties. She was mean to her teachers, her friends, and strangers. Lindalee lived in a first-floor apartment on Cattywampus Street with her grandmother, Nana Gigi, and believe it or not, she was even mean to her!

  That’s right—Lindalee was a downright mean machine.

  Lindalee didn’t know why she was mean. She would want to be nice, she would plan to be nice, she would try to be nice, but at the very last minute a little voice in her head would say, BE MEAN!

  And so she would be. She couldn’t help it.

  You might wonder how Lindalee had any friends. Well, she never had them for long. As soon as Hans, or Lionel, or Charlotta, or Evelyn and Emmett, or any of the other kids found out how mean Lindalee could be, they no longer wanted to be around her.

  By and by, there came a day when there was no one left for her to be friends with.

  On that day, Lindalee walked home from school all alone. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud was in the sky. The sun was shining, but Lindalee hated the sun.

  “Sun,” she yelled, “you are hot! You are stupid! And you are ugly, too!” (What a mean thing to say to the sun!)

  Suddenly a big gray cloud covered the sun and it started to rain.

  “Oh, no!” Lindalee cried. She hated the rain just as much as she hated the sun.

  “Rain,” she yelled, “you are wet! You are stupid! And you are ugly, too!” (What a mean thing to say to the rain!)

  Lindalee walked faster, as if that would keep her dry. But the rain just came down harder and she just got wetter.

  Lindalee started to run. She ran right by her own apartment, then the park, then the Waddlebee Toy Store, and finally across the train tracks. She ran and ran and ran, until—oops!—she slipped in the mud and fell into a deep puddle.

  Down, down, down, and down she fell…until—ka-thunk!—Lindalee landed. Her pretty pink dress was covered with slime.

  “Oh, no! My dress is ruined!” she yelled.

  Her pretty white shoes were also covered with slime.

  “Oh, no! My shoes are ruined!” she yelled.

  And right there in the mud, Lindalee started to cry. Big, fat tears streamed down her muddy face. “Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo-hoo!”

  “What’s your problem?” a grubby, groggy voice asked.

  Where was that voice coming from? Lindalee dried her tears and looked around. Nobody was in front of her, nobody was next to her, and nobody was behind her.

  “Wh-wh-who’s that?” she stuttered.

  “Down here,” said the grubby, groggy voice.

  “Where?” asked Lindalee. She moved onto the wet grass.

  “Watch it! You almost sat on me, you ninny!” the voice yelled.

  Lindalee peered down and saw a grubby, groggy tiny frog right next to her, almost buried in the muddy grass. A frog can’t talk, she thought. Can it?

  “Yeah. It’s me, silly,” the frog said. “A FROG!” The frog stretched itself up straight, warts and all.

  “Eww! You’re gross! And ugly!” Lindalee screamed.

  “And you are mean, mean, mean, MEAN!” the frog screamed right back. “That’s why you have NO friends, and that’s why you’re sitting here all alone, feeling sorry for yourself. Your dress is stupid and ugly, that ribbon in your hair is ridiculous. I’ve never seen such hideous shoes before in my life….” The frog went on and
on and on, pointing out everything it thought was stupid and ugly. Which, trust me, was a lot.

  Lindalee couldn’t stand it. This was the meanest frog ever!

  Lindalee was so upset that she got up and started running. She ran and ran, back across the train tracks to Cattywampus Street. As she passed the toy store, her dress became dry and pretty again. Her shoes were no longer dirty. The sun came out and the clouds rolled away.

  Lindalee ran all the way home. When she got there, she ran up to her grandmother and hugged her. “You are the best, Nana!” she cried. “I love you so much!”

  “Do I know you?” Nana Gigi replied.

  “It is me, Lindalee!” Lindalee said.

  Nana Gigi shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Next, Lindalee ran to the school, where her teacher, Mr. Belloc, was just leaving. “I love you so much!” she yelled. “I love school, too!”

  “Who are you?” Mr. Belloc asked.

  “It is me, Lindalee!” Lindalee said.

  “No,” said Mr. Belloc. “That’s not possible.”

  Lindalee went to see all her former friends. First Hans, then Lionel, then Charlotta, then Emmett and Evelyn, and so on. One by one, she hugged them and told them how much she loved them. And one by one, they asked who she was.

  “It is me, Lindalee!” Lindalee said over and over. But no one believed her.

  Lindalee went back to her house. This time Nana Gigi wouldn’t even let her in. “Sorry,” she said. “You look like a nice girl. But I miss my mean Lindalee.”

  Lindalee sat on the stoop and tried to think of ways she could prove that she was indeed the real Lindalee. Then she heard that little voice in her head again. Not the grubby, groggy frog voice, but the familiar voice.

  BE MEAN, it said.

  Lindalee tightened her pink bow so tight her head hurt, then stood up and took a big breath. “OPEN UP AND LET ME IN!” she shouted in her loudest, meanest voice. “Everyone is so stupid—you don’t even know that it is me, Lindalee!”