Girls Rule! (7 page)

“How can it be that no other kids in Buckman are having birthdays in June?” she asked her sisters.

“Well, maybe they’re having birthdays, but they aren’t having parties,” said Beth. “Or maybe they’re having parties, but they’re not having performances. Or maybe they’re having performances, but they’re not having you, strange as that may seem, Caroline.”

Impossible,
thought Caroline. Who would
not
want a talented, precocious girl who could become all the different characters in a story? Who would
not
want to say, after Caroline became an actress on Broadway, that they had known Caroline when she was just a little girl back in fourth grade and had seen her perform once at a birthday party?

“Ready!” Beth called to the man on the porch as still another car pulled into the driveway.

The man paid his four dollars, but when he slid into the driver’s seat he yelled, “Hey! There’s water in here. Didn’t you girls close my windows?”

Caroline turned to look and saw a puddle of water on the floor on the passenger side. The window above the seat was open an inch.

“I…we…I guess we thought you did,” Eddie said. “We should have checked.”

“For four dollars, you need to do a better job,” the man said, and drove away.

“We need more help!” Eddie cried. “We need someone to stand out on the road with a sign directing cars in here. We need someone to close the windows and pick up trash, someone to vacuum, someone to do the wheels, wash the windows, use the cleaner, polish and dry….”

“In other words,” said Beth, “the Hatfords.”

“I’m afraid so,” said Eddie.

The driver of the third car tapped her horn impatiently.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Eddie muttered.

“Are you
sure
we want the guys over here?” Beth asked. “Do we know what we’re doing?”

“I know that if we
don’t
have some help, we’re going to go out of business,” said Eddie. “Caroline, go call the Hatfords and ask if they want to go in with us on a car wash.”

Anything was better than cleaning wheels for the rest of the day, Caroline thought. She dropped the rag and went into the house. She knew how suspicious the
boys were of any Malloy idea, however. She knew Jake would quiz her and want a contract, probably, stating that the money they received would be divided equally among them. She didn’t have time to stand at the telephone arguing with them.

So she dialed the boys’ number, and when she heard Wally say, “Hello?” she simply called feebly into the phone, “Help! Help!” And hung up.

Eight
Cleaning the Clock

T
he Hatford boys enjoyed their usual Sunday chicken dinner. They had just changed from their white shirts and blue pants to T-shirts and shorts and were thinking about going outside to shoot baskets when the phone rang.

“Hello?” said Wally.

Nobody said hello at the other end. Instead, someone who sounded remarkably like Caroline Malloy yelled, “Help! Help!” And before Wally could ask what was wrong, she hung up.

Wally walked to the doorway of the living room, where his brothers were reading the Sunday comics.

“Who was that?” asked Josh.

“I
think
it was Caroline,” said Wally. “I
think
she’s in trouble.”

“Why? What did she say?” asked Jake.

“She just yelled, ‘Help!’ “ Wally said.

“Help? That’s all?” asked Josh.

“Actually, she said, ‘Help! Help!’ “ Wally told them.

Peter jumped to his feet. “Then let’s go rescue her. Maybe she fell in the river again!"

“Sure, she’s calling from the river. Right!” said Josh.

“Don’t be in too big a hurry to get over there. You
know
it’s a trick,” said Jake.

Wally was uneasy. “But what if it’s not?”

“Yeah, what if there’s a murderer in her house or something?” said Peter.

“On a Sunday afternoon?” said Jake.

“Murderers get in whenever they want,” said Peter.

Wally thought they ought to go too, trick or no trick.

“Well, at least it will be more interesting than shooting baskets,” said Josh. “Let’s go.”

The boys went outside and trooped across the footbridge, then up the grassy hill in the June sunshine. When they reached the clearing between the house and the garage, they saw two cars sitting in the Malloys’ driveway and three girls trying to wash two cars at once.

“Help!” Caroline cried again when she saw the Hatfords.

“Who’s drowning?” asked Jake suspiciously.

“
We’re
drowning—in work!” Eddie told him. “We
started a car wash to earn money for the hospital, and now we can’t keep up with all the cars turning in. If you guys will help out, we’ll split the money seven ways.” Even as she spoke, another car came up the drive.

It was better than nothing, Wally thought. Heck, he’d help even if his brothers didn’t. Peter immediately picked up a rag.

“I guess we can do it,” said Jake.

“I’ll polish,” said Josh.

It was sort of neat to form an assembly line, Wally decided. Caroline and Peter were assigned to the wheels, Eddie used the hose, Beth did the vacuuming, and Jake and Josh did the cleaning and polishing.

“What am I supposed to do?” Wally asked.

“You need to go to the end of the driveway, stand by the sign I made, and try to get cars to turn in,” said Eddie.

Heck, he had the best job of all, Wally thought.
That
was a change. Usually he got the worst of things. How did he get to be traffic cop all of a sudden?

Wally walked to the end of the wide driveway and stood by the car wash sign. It was two or three minutes before any car passed at all. Finally a tow truck appeared in the distance. Wally decided that a tow truck would be unlikely to use a car wash, and he was right. Even though he motioned for it to turn into the Malloys’ driveway, it sped on past.

Wally stood on one foot, then the other. He counted
to a hundred by fives, then by fours and threes. Another car came by, tooted its horn, and drove on. The third car, however, slowed down and turned in.

“Do you guys do a good job?” the driver asked.

“Oh, yeah!” said Wally, and directed him toward the clearing. There was space for four cars at once.

He wished he were wearing a traffic cop’s orange vest. That would be neat—standing out here directing traffic, making the cars stop. Holding out the flat of his hand to stop cars in one direction, motioning the other cars right up the driveway. He’d even use his whistle. He would back them up all the way to the bridge just to let a car turn in at the car wash.

Wally tried counting to a hundred by sixes and sevens and eights. Another car came by and slowed.

“For four dollars, that’s a bargain!” the woman said, and took her place in line.

Wally had just started to count by nines when he heard somebody yell, “Hey!” He turned around.

There were two boys from school walking toward him. Big boys. Probably fifth or sixth graders, and one was as big as a washing machine.

“You stole our idea!” said the washing machine.

“What?” said Wally.

The other boy pointed toward Eddie’s sign. “Car wash. We did it first.”

Wally shrugged. “I don’t know anything about your car wash, but so what? Anybody can wash cars. I’m just helping the Malloys out.”

“Well, you’d better stop. You’d better close up, because you’re taking customers away from us,” said the first boy.

“Where do you live?” asked Wally.

The boys pointed far down Island Avenue.

“What are you charging?” Wally asked, curious.

“Five dollars. Six to wash and vacuum. You’re stealing our business.”

“You’d better talk to Eddie Malloy, then. She’s the one with the hose,” Wally said, pointing her out.

The boys looked up the driveway to where Josh and Jake and Eddie and Beth and Caroline and Peter were all hard at work.

“We don’t want to talk to Eddie, we’re talking to you,” said the washing machine. “And you’d better tell her to close up shop, or we’ll come back and clean your clock.”

“Yeah,” said the other boy. “We’ll clear your deck.”

“Punch out your lights,” said the washing machine, and they went off down the road. One of them turned and waved his fist in the air before he started on across the road bridge.

Wally waited a minute, then walked up the drive toward the twins, who were polishing the hood of a car.

“Somebody’s going to come back here and punch out my lights if we don’t close the car wash,” he said.

“They’re going to do
what
?” asked Eddie.

“Clean my clock and clear my deck,” said Wally.

“Who were they?” asked Josh.

“Fifth or sixth graders, I think. One was as big as a washing machine.”

“Gus Bradley,” said Jake. “I’ll bet that’s who it was. He just goes around talking big.”

“He
is
big!” said Wally.

“Well, you just go out there like you belong by that sign,” said Jake. “And if they come back and start anything, you tell them you’ll clean
their
clocks!"

“What?” said Wally. He had never won a fight in his life. He’d never even been in one, except with his brothers.

“You’re not afraid of them, are you?” asked Beth.

“Heck, no!” said Wally. He was terrified.

“So just go right back out there and keep directing cars up the driveway. If they come back and tell you to close up, say, ‘Try and make me,’ “ said Eddie.

Wally swallowed. One punch to the nose and they
would
make him.

He hunched his shoulders and went back to stand by the road. Another car came along, then stopped, and the man looked at the car wash sign. Wally waved him on in. Fifteen minutes went by. Another car pulled in. Twenty minutes…

And then, coming back across the road bridge was the washing machine. This time it appeared he had the dryer with him, because there was a third boy, almost as large. Three boys on sturdy legs who had the look of trouble about them. One was going to clean his clock, one was going to clear his deck, and the third was going to punch out his lights.

Why was it, Wally wondered, that even when it
looked
as though he had the best job of all, it was really the worst? Why was it always Wally who seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?

“Hey, pipsqueak, you still in business?” called the washing machine.

“I thought we told you to close up,” said the second boy.

“I think it’s time we cleaned his clock,” said the dryer.

Wally stood like a statue, his jaws clamped shut.

“So what do you have to say? Anything? You going to close down?” asked the dryer.

“Nope,” said Wally, and wondered what a broken nose felt like.

“You mean you’re going to stand out here and keep stealing our customers?” asked the washing machine.

“I guess we’ll take whatever business we can get,” said Wally.

The three boys looked at each other.

“I think he wants us to punch out his lights,” said the third boy.

“I think he wants us to clear his deck,” said the dryer.

At that moment there came a voice back by the car wash yelling, “War!"

Wally turned around. Down the driveway came Jake with the hose, Josh with a bucket, Eddie with a broom, Beth with a brush, Peter with a dirty, wet rag, and
Caroline waving a towel above her head like a lasso. They were hooting and hollering and bellowing and braying.

The three boys in front of Wally each took a step backward, their fists clenched, then stepped back again.

By the time the broom and bucket and hose and rags and brush reached the end of the driveway, two of the men customers had started down the drive as well. “Need some help?” one of them called.

The three big boys suddenly turned and began walking rapidly down Island Avenue, then faster still.

“Yahoo!” yelled Eddie.

“Look at them go!” said Jake.

“If they don’t watch out, they’ll trip over their own feet and punch out their own lights.” Josh laughed.

With a huge sigh of relief, Wally went back up the driveway with the others and helped finish washing the last of the cars. When evening settled in over the neighborhood, they divided their earnings among their seven collection cans. As it happened, exactly seven cars had come by, which meant that each of them got four dollars for his collection can. It seemed like a lot of work for only four dollars, but they had to admit it had been fun.

“If we do this next weekend, I think we’ll have it made,” said Eddie. “You want us to deal you in?”

“Sure,” said Jake.

And even though both the Hatfords and the Malloys had promised they would do their projects
alone, it began to look as though they were going to be stuck together in this business like Velcro.

As the boys went back home across the footbridge, Jake said, “Don’t worry. One more week of school, one more weekend of the car wash, and we’re out of here. We can stay on our side of the river the whole rest of the summer if we want to.”

Nine
Plane-Wrecked