Whew!
She came up the stairs, one step at a time.
She poked her head in the doorway. “Did you see any black widow spiders?”
He shook his head. “Not even one.”
“What are you doing in this scary place?”
Mitchell blinked like the lizard. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“I’m not afraid of regular things,” she said. “Like scary movies …” She tiptoed to the window. “I’m afraid of lobsters.”
“Lobsters are scary,” Mitchell said.
“And snapping turtles.”
“I guess so.” Mitchell thought scary movies were worse.
“I was scared all day,” Angel said. “I looked for you. I hoped you were all right.”
Sometimes Angel surprised him. “Thanks,” he said.
He was sorry he hadn’t stuck to her like glue.
“I can’t find Habib or Charlie,” he said.
“I know where they are,” she said. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
She raised one shoulder. “Look at the fireflies out there.”
“Did Habib go home?” he asked. Maybe Habib was afraid, too.
Angel put her hand over her mouth. “I’m not supposed to tell.”
“Not fair,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
Mitchell looked at the fireflies. He’d never seen this many.
Trevor was jumping around. He was trying to catch them in a jar.
The woods didn’t seem so scary now. Not so big!
Mitchell could see the road.
A car was coming. The headlights were shining.
He and Angel went downstairs and out the door.
Owen walked over to them. “Hey, guys, did you see any black widows?”
“Not even one,” Angel said.
Owen took a step closer. “I’m not afraid of them anyway.”
He looked toward the woods. “We have to watch out for that animal. The one with that weird sound. It’s almost like whistling.”
Angel took a step back. “Whistling?”
“It must be huge,” Owen said.
Mitchell tried to think. What could it be? Did bears whistle? No.
“That’s why I didn’t come with you,” Owen said. “I wanted to stick close to the fire.”
The car pulled up to the field.
Was that his mother’s car?
Was that his dog, Maggie?
Habib and Charlie were getting out of the backseat.
“Hide your eyes,” Angel said. “You’re not supposed to look.”
Mitchell closed his eyes.
He could hear a second car coming.
No, it wasn’t a car. It sounded like a truck. It was bumping all over the place.
He opened one eye. It was Mr. Adam Farelli’s truck. A long pole stuck out of the back.
A tent pole.
Mr. Oakley was helping him with it.
The boys wouldn’t have to sleep on the bare ground with snakes or lizards.
Mitchell didn’t even mind lizards anymore.
He opened his other eye.
Habib and Charlie were carrying a box. Maggie was jumping around them.
“I know they’re going to drop it,” Angel said.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Close your eyes,” she said again. “I don’t want you to see the cake smashed on the ground.”
“What cake?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. But she didn’t have to.
Mitchell had figured it out.
It was his birthday cake! One day early.
Habib was trying to keep it steady.
Then Mitchell did close his eyes.
He knew what was going to happen.
Down at the fire, he could hear Mrs. Farelli say, “Oh, no!”
What was that clanging noise in his ear?
Maybe it was the whistling animal.
Mitchell tried to move. His arms were caught. So were his legs.
Was he in a giant web?
He opened his eyes.
Huge eyes looked down at him.
Animal eyes.
Maggie’s eyes. Whew!
Mitchell remembered everything at once.
Maggie had stuck to him like glue last night. Mrs. Farelli had said that she could stay.
The noise he heard wasn’t an animal. It was Mr. Farelli. He was clanging a bell. “Up and at ’em,” he called. “Breakfast at the Zigzag Pond.”
Best of all, it was Mitchell’s birthday. There’d be a special dinner at home later. Fried chicken fingers and ice cream. A bunch of presents.
But now they marched to the pond. They marched slowly. Trevor was back on his stilts.
Today Owen had blue stuff around his mouth.
“It’s icing from your birthday cake,” Habib told Mitchell.
Mitchell nodded. It had been the best cake: chocolate with blue and white icing.
Too bad it had fallen upside down. They’d flipped it back over. The top had said HAP B MIT.
Mitchell grinned. Happy birthday, Mitchell.
This morning the pond sparkled. Two ducks swam on the water.
Mrs. Farelli flapped out blankets so they could sit.
The lunch lady gave them bananas, yogurt, and a bread thing. It had little green chunks. It was the same snack as the other day.
“Celery,” Owen said.
“Stick to me like glue, Mitchell,” Angel whispered.
“Don’t worry,” he said.
Angel didn’t think he was a baby anymore. Maybe it was because he was one year older today.
He watched a huge turtle on a log.
A snapping turtle?
It didn’t scare him. Besides, it was at the other end of the pond.
Mitchell sat back. He felt the sun on his face.
It was a great day. A terrific day.
He felt like Gary Bopper.
He tried a little whistle.
It sounded like the wind.
He had to keep trying.
Next to him, Owen began to scream. “There it is! That weird animal.”
“Baby,” Angel said. “It’s just Mitchell. He’s learning how to whistle.”
“Not an animal after all,” Owen said. “Whew!”
“Whew,” Mitchell said, too. He tried another whistle.
There was a huge splash.
“Oh, no!” Angel yelled. “Here comes a snapper.”
Mitchell leaned forward. The turtle hadn’t moved.
It was Trevor.
He had fallen into the pond.
Mitchell watched Mr. Oakley pull him out.
Mitchell sat back. He had just realized something. He liked campouts.
Lots of surprises.
And no bears.
PATRICIA REILLY GIFF is the author of many beloved books for children, including the Kids of the Polk Street School books, the Friends and Amigos books, and the Polka Dot Private Eye books. Several of her novels for older readers have been chosen as ALA-ALSC Notable Children’s Books and ALA-YALSA Best Books for Young Adults. They include The Gift of the Pirate Queen; All the Way Home; Water Street; Nory Ryan’s Song, a Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Golden Kite Honor Book for Fiction; and the Newbery Honor Books Lily’s Crossing and Pictures of Hollis Woods. Lily’s Crossing was also chosen as a Boston Globe–Horn Book Honor Book. Her most recent books for older readers include R My Name Is Rachel, Storyteller, Wild Girl, and Eleven. Other books in the Zigzag Kids series include Number One Kid, Big Whopper, Flying Feet, and Star Time. Patricia Reilly Giff lives in Connecticut.
Patricia Reilly Giff is available for select readings and lectures. To inquire about a possible appearance, please contact the Random House Speakers Bureau at [email protected].
ALASDAIR BRIGHT is a freelance illustrator who has worked on numerous books and advertising projects. He loves drawing and is never without his sketchbook. He lives
in Bedford, England.
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