Boys Against Girls (11 page)

      I
f it was distressing to Caroline, Beth, and Eddie, to the Hatford boys it was a shock. They positively bellowed when Mother told them the news.

“What?” Wally's eyes almost popped out of his head.

“Wally, stop shouting!” said his mother. “Aunt Ida and Uncle Bob are going to North Carolina for Thanksgiving this year, and it just wouldn't seem right not to have a crowd around the table. Mrs. Malloy was so pleased when I called and invited them to come.”

As if that weren't enough, a letter arrived from the Benson boys down in Georgia:

Dear Wally (and Jake, Josh, and Peter):

  
You guys getting all ready for Thanksgiving? Boy, we are having a feast. Mom made reservations at this
sort of southern mansion where it takes almost three hours to eat a meal, and there are supposed to be thirty different desserts to choose from and you eat as much as you want. I'll make a list of everything we eat and send it to you, and tell you whether I barfed later or not.

It's not cold here like it gets in Buckman. Yesterday I went to school without a jacket. Danny has this real good-looking teacher who rides a bike to school some days. She had a flat tire and Danny fixed it for her, and she gave him some chocolates. I mean, can you imagine old Applebaum giving anyone chocolates?

There are seventeen boys in my class and only eight girls. This is probably the very best year I ever had in school. Fun, I mean.

How are you guys doing, anyway? What are you going to do for Thanksgiving? Write sometime.

Bill (and Danny, Steve, Tony, and Doug)

Dear Bill (and Danny, Steve, Tony, and Doug):

You want to know what we're doing for Thanksgiving? Just because you guys left Buckman for Georgia and rented your house to a Whomper, a Weirdo, and a Crazie, we've got to eat Thanksgiving dinner with them. Mom invited those girls over here¡ I can't believe this. It is going to be the worst Thanksgiving I ever had in my life, and if you guys don't come back soon, I don't know what we'll do.

I think you're just nuts about that teacher. I think just because she gave Danny chocolates when he fixed her bike, she's making you all sort of nuts. Have you forgotten all the fun we had here? Have you forgotten all the things we've done together in Buckman?
Especially,
have you read anything in the newspapers there about the abaguchie? Bet you haven't. There's even a new rumor that it got in the bookstore somehow.

If you want to know more about the abaguchie you have to come back. You have to hear it with your own ears.

COME HOME NOW!!!¡

Wally (and Jake, Josh, and Peter)

P.S. We mean it, guys¡

Eighteen
Paw Prints

      I
t was Eddie's idea, actually. It had rained Saturday morning—a cold November rain—gray sky over gray trees over a gray landscape—the kind of day that made Eddie wish for baseball summers, Beth to wish for warm July days of hammock reading, and Caroline to fantasize herself under bright lights in a packed auditorium, with her name, of course, on the marquee.

“What we need,” Eddie said, lying on the floor, tossing a baseball up in the air and catching it while flat on her back, “is something that would make a great paw print. We could go over to the Hatfords’ after dark and make paw prints in the wet ground, right up that dirt path to their back door.”

It was a better idea than Caroline had ever thought of herself, and Beth—who lived half her life inside her head along with vampires and headless
horsemen—at once put her mind to the kind of paw prints an abaguchie might make.

They went outside to experiment in the damp earth of Mother's empty flower bed, and discovered that by pressing the palm of their hands down in the dirt, then using the thumb to make prints for the toes, they had a good imitation of an animal's paw print—something resembling the print of a large cat.

After that they worked to make it look real, placing the paw prints almost in front of each other, the way a large cat might go slinking about.

Evening could not come quickly enough. There had been a lot more talk of the abaguchie since the small tuft of Caroline's fur trim had been found along the door frame at Oldakers'. Not a day went by at school that someone didn't mention it, and Caroline and her sisters could not think of a better way to keep the story alive than to place some odd paw prints where the Hatford boys would find them.

Why the Hatfords? Who else was as much fun to tease, trick, fool, annoy, harass, and just plain drive to distraction? And things could not have gone more perfectly when Mother announced that there was chili on the stove for dinner, bagels for toasting with cheese, a salad in the fridge, and everyone could eat when ready. She was working on new curtains for the sun-room, and did not want to stop and put a formal meal on the table.

The girls ate early and then, when it was almost, but not quite, dark, set out in dark jeans, socks, sweaters, and gloves. When they got across the bridge, the Hatford house was ablaze with lights. Every room, thought Caroline, was like a stage, and you could walk around the entire house and decide what stage you wanted to watch.

“The main thing,” Eddie whispered, “is to be sure all the Hatfords are inside. We don't want any surprises—no one walking up behind us.”

Everybody was inside. Jake was watching TV. Mrs. Hatford and Wally were making dinner, and Josh was standing in the kitchen doorway. Mr. Hatford was reading to Peter on the couch.

In case any of the Hatfords were coming out later, the girls decided to start at the steps and work backward—across the lawn, through the empty flower bed, over to the bare earth around the driveway, and out the gate behind the shed. Wherever they could plant a paw print, they would. Beth and Eddie made the prints, and Caroline led the way, keeping an eye on the house.

It would have been better, of course, if they'd had a flashlight to admire their work as they went along, but they had practiced enough in Mother's flower bed at home to know in what direction the toes should be pointing, and about how far apart the prints should be.

“Wait!” Caroline cautioned at one point when Mr. Hatford came to the window and looked out over the darkened landscape, hands in his pockets. The girls crouched, ready to run if the door opened, but after a while he ambled off again, and when Caroline next checked, he was eating dinner.

They completed the garden plot and started in on the bare spots along the driveway.

“We shouldn't make a steady line of prints,” Beth said. “A big cat would probably step off into the grass now and then.”

Silently the girls worked on, moving in the direction where Caroline was standing. If only it didn't rain again before morning, destroying their handiwork.
One
of the Hatfords should notice those prints on Sunday when they all came out for church.

They had finished the bare dirt along the driveway and were moving off toward the trees when Caroline heard a twig snap somewhere behind the toolshed.

She wheeled quickly around and listened. Nothing.

“Did you hear something?” whispered Beth.

“Wait….” said Eddie.

The girls froze, not daring to make a sound.

This time there was a crackle of underbrush, like a swift movement back in the weeds near the trees. Caroline turned some more and saw two yellow eyes
about three feet from the ground, staring right at her.

The scream came in spite of herself.

“Caroline!” said Eddie just as Beth rose up from a crouch. A low growl came from the direction of the eyes.

And suddenly Caroline was running pell-mell toward the house. Unmindful of the consequences, she tumbled onto the steps. She realized too late that Beth and Eddie were still out on the driveway.

“Caroline!” she heard Eddie whisper just as the porch light came on and Mr. Hatford stepped out, followed by Wally, then Jake and Josh.

“What's happening?” asked the boys’ father.

“There's … something out there!” gasped Caroline. “We saw two eyes¡ Two yellow eyes about this far off the ground!” She put out one hand.

Beth came over. “It growled,” she added.

“Out where?” asked Mr. Hatford, coming down the steps.

Mrs. Hatford appeared with a flashlight, followed by Peter. The boys stared at the girls.

“What were you doing out here?” asked Wally.

Now Eddie came over. “We were just cutting through your yard—”

“Look here!” yelled Wally, taking the flashlight and coming down the steps. “Hey, Dad, look at these prints!”

“M'gosh!” cried Jake. “They're huge!”

The boys stared at the girls some more. And then Wally must have noticed their muddy hands, and the mud on Beth's and Eddie's knees, because he yelled, “It's all a trick¡ They've been over here making paw prints in the dirt, and they screamed to make us think something's out there.”

“Something was!” cried Caroline, not even caring now. “Yes, we
did
make the paw prints, just as a joke, but when we got back in the weeds, we
did
see something. We
did
hear a growl!”

“Sure, and it snows in July,” said Wally.

“It's true!” said Beth.

Mr. Hatford smiled a little. “Well, girls, do you want the boys to walk you home?”

“No,” said Eddie. “We were just leaving.”

“Hey, nice paw prints!” Jake chortled.

“Good try,” said Josh.

Caroline and her sisters headed for the swinging bridge.

“I was never so humiliated in my life!” said Eddie. “Caroline, why did you scream? After all our work, you ruined it.”

“But I saw eyes, Eddie¡ You saw them, too, Beth. You know you did.”

“And I heard the growl,” Beth insisted.

“We'll never live this down,” Eddie told them. “Our big chance, and we blew it.”

Nineteen
Two Yellow Eyes

      T
he boys hooted as the girls headed down the driveway toward the road and the swinging bridge on the other side.

“They actually thought we'd fall for that!” said Wally. “They must think we're really dumb.”