Beans shouts back.
Pork Chop leaps up. “I don’t have to take this from you! I’m leaving!”
“No, you ain’t! I’m leaving first,” Beans says, and he rushes past Pork Chop into the night.
Then it’s just me, Ira, and Kermit.
“Well, at least there’s more room now,” Ira says with a sigh.
“Yeah,” Kermit agrees. “And it’ll be quieter, too. Beans snores. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Turtle got here.”
I smack a mosquito. “You ain’t gonna get a good one tonight. I can’t believe we’re stuck here.”
“We’ll get picked up in the morning. Don’t worry,” Ira says in a reassuring voice. “Just think about how we’re going to spend all this gold.”
The bag of treasure is under his head like a pillow.
“Guess we can afford a new wagon for the gang,” Kermit says.
“We can even get two!” Ira pipes in.
“And all the ice cream we can eat!” Kermit says. “You think I can buy myself a new heart?”
“Sure,” I say. “Be sure to give your old one to Beans. He could use one.”
“What about you, Turtle?” Ira asks. “What are you gonna buy?”
I don’t even have to think it over.
“New shoes,” I say.
“Shoes?” Ira laughs. “Nobody wears shoes around here.”
“Who said I was planning to stick around?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I dream I’m walking into the Bellewood in pretty new shoes—through the front door, under the arch, and into the living room, where Mama and Smokey are waiting for me. It’s so real I can smell Mama’s perfume.
“I told you we’d have a happy ending,” she says with a smile.
Then a mosquito bites me and I wake up in the pitch-dark shack with Ira’s stinky feet in my face and Kermit drooling on my neck. Talk about a good dream turning into a nightmare.
16
The Rescue Party
If this was a Hollywood picture, the rescuers would show up at dawn with the sun, the audience would clap, and that would be The End.
When I walk out of the shack in the morning, the only thing that’s shown up is muddy-looking clouds that hang low in the sky. It’s drizzling and we’re all scratching at our mosquito bites. My face feels hot and tight. I wonder what Shirley Temple would do in this situation. Probably sing a song about how fun it is to be stuck on an island.
“Say, you got any of that diaper-rash formula on you?” I ask Ira.
“Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?” hesays, and digs in his pocket. He takes some and then tosses the bag to me.
I smear the powder on the bites and on my sunburned face, too. It helps a little.
My stomach rumbles. “I’m hungry.”
“What if we don’t find anything to eat?” Kermit asks.
“Then we’ll starve to death,” Pork Chop snaps.
The two boys returned to the shack some time during the night. They’re both acting like cranky babies now. Even Pudding is easier to take than these two.
We spread out, foraging. When we meet back up, we toss what we’ve found into a pile: two empty cans, a rotting coconut, and a crab that’s been dead awhile, judging from the smell.
“Can’t even make a cut-up out of this,” Ira says in disgust.
“Maybe we could build a raft?” Pork Chop suggests.
“With what?” Beans asks.
“Wood from the shack,” Pork Chop says.
“Then we won’t have anywhere to sleep!” Kermit protests.
“Who cares about sleeping? Let’s just try and get out of here!”
“We wouldn’t even be here in the first place if you weren’t such a dummy,” Beans says under his breath.
“I got more sense in my bungy than you’ve got in your whole body!” Pork Chop shouts back.
“Sense? Even Buddy knows how to set a hook,” Beans says.
“I’ll show you a hook!” Pork Chop growls, and clocks Beans on the side of the head with a huge roundhouse swing. I practically see stars myself as Beans goes down.
But he doesn’t stay down long. He comes up roaring and rushes Pork Chop, landing on top of him as Pork Chop’s head barely misses a
Pork Chop leaps up. “I don’t have to take this from you! I’m leaving!”
“No, you ain’t! I’m leaving first,” Beans says, and he rushes past Pork Chop into the night.
Then it’s just me, Ira, and Kermit.
“Well, at least there’s more room now,” Ira says with a sigh.
“Yeah,” Kermit agrees. “And it’ll be quieter, too. Beans snores. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Turtle got here.”
I smack a mosquito. “You ain’t gonna get a good one tonight. I can’t believe we’re stuck here.”
“We’ll get picked up in the morning. Don’t worry,” Ira says in a reassuring voice. “Just think about how we’re going to spend all this gold.”
The bag of treasure is under his head like a pillow.
“Guess we can afford a new wagon for the gang,” Kermit says.
“We can even get two!” Ira pipes in.
“And all the ice cream we can eat!” Kermit says. “You think I can buy myself a new heart?”
“Sure,” I say. “Be sure to give your old one to Beans. He could use one.”
“What about you, Turtle?” Ira asks. “What are you gonna buy?”
I don’t even have to think it over.
“New shoes,” I say.
“Shoes?” Ira laughs. “Nobody wears shoes around here.”
“Who said I was planning to stick around?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I dream I’m walking into the Bellewood in pretty new shoes—through the front door, under the arch, and into the living room, where Mama and Smokey are waiting for me. It’s so real I can smell Mama’s perfume.
“I told you we’d have a happy ending,” she says with a smile.
Then a mosquito bites me and I wake up in the pitch-dark shack with Ira’s stinky feet in my face and Kermit drooling on my neck. Talk about a good dream turning into a nightmare.
16
The Rescue Party
If this was a Hollywood picture, the rescuers would show up at dawn with the sun, the audience would clap, and that would be The End.
When I walk out of the shack in the morning, the only thing that’s shown up is muddy-looking clouds that hang low in the sky. It’s drizzling and we’re all scratching at our mosquito bites. My face feels hot and tight. I wonder what Shirley Temple would do in this situation. Probably sing a song about how fun it is to be stuck on an island.
“Say, you got any of that diaper-rash formula on you?” I ask Ira.
“Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?” hesays, and digs in his pocket. He takes some and then tosses the bag to me.
I smear the powder on the bites and on my sunburned face, too. It helps a little.
My stomach rumbles. “I’m hungry.”
“What if we don’t find anything to eat?” Kermit asks.
“Then we’ll starve to death,” Pork Chop snaps.
The two boys returned to the shack some time during the night. They’re both acting like cranky babies now. Even Pudding is easier to take than these two.
We spread out, foraging. When we meet back up, we toss what we’ve found into a pile: two empty cans, a rotting coconut, and a crab that’s been dead awhile, judging from the smell.
“Can’t even make a cut-up out of this,” Ira says in disgust.
“Maybe we could build a raft?” Pork Chop suggests.
“With what?” Beans asks.
“Wood from the shack,” Pork Chop says.
“Then we won’t have anywhere to sleep!” Kermit protests.
“Who cares about sleeping? Let’s just try and get out of here!”
“We wouldn’t even be here in the first place if you weren’t such a dummy,” Beans says under his breath.
“I got more sense in my bungy than you’ve got in your whole body!” Pork Chop shouts back.
“Sense? Even Buddy knows how to set a hook,” Beans says.
“I’ll show you a hook!” Pork Chop growls, and clocks Beans on the side of the head with a huge roundhouse swing. I practically see stars myself as Beans goes down.
But he doesn’t stay down long. He comes up roaring and rushes Pork Chop, landing on top of him as Pork Chop’s head barely misses a
Similar Books
