CHAPTER ONE
“Eatalotta, eatalotta, eatalotta pizza!”
“Pepperoni, mushrooms, anchovies on the pizza!”
“Mozzarella cheese and Parmesan, too!”
“Mmmm, mmmm,
good!”
Charles shouted happily with the group. He loved the pizza chant. He loved his bright yellow T-shirt. He loved working toward his Wolf rank. In fact, Charles loved just about everything about being in Cub Scouts.
It was cool that his best friend, Sammy, was in his den. It was awesome that they would both soon become Wolves. And Charles thought it was most especially super-cool
and
awesome that his mom and dad were Akelas — that is, den leaders.That meant that all six Cub Scouts in Charles’s den came to the Petersons’ house for their meeting every week, and it also meant that both Mom and Dad came along to the Scouts’ monthly pack meeting.
After Charles’s dad finished leading the pizza chant, his mom shooed the pack out to the backyard so they could practice for the “Feats of Skill” they would have to perform as part of their Wolf Badge requirements. Some of the den members had a hard time sitting still for very long. So there was always time for jumping and running during their meetings.
Charles and Sammy were practicing their forward and backward rolls when Charles looked up and saw a furry brown face watching from a window in the house. “Hi, Buddy!” he yelled, waving to his puppy.
Charles loved Buddy so much. More than ice cream, more than Cub Scouts, maybe even morethan Christmas, which was only a few weeks away. Buddy was brown, with a white heart-shaped patch on his chest. He was the cutest, smartest, funniest, softest, sweetest puppy ever, and — best of all — he belonged to the Petersons forever and ever.
Lots of puppies had come and gone since the Petersons had started being a foster family. (That meant that they took care of puppies who needed homes.) Usually, each puppy only stayed for a few weeks, until the Petersons found it the perfect forever home. But Buddy was different. Buddy had come to stay.
Now, in the upstairs window, another little face popped up next to Buddy’s. That was the Bean, Charles’s little brother. (His name was really Adam, but nobody
ever
called him that.) The Bean had a fuzzy green stuffed turtle hanging from his mouth. Mr. Turtle came from the pet store, and he had a squeaker inside. He was really a toy fordogs, not for little boys. But the Bean was not exactly a regular little boy. The Bean loved to pretend that he was a dog.
Then a third face popped up. It was Lizzie, Charles’s older sister. She was keeping an eye on Buddy and the Bean while the den had its meeting. Charles figured that Lizzie was probably a little jealous of all the special time he got with Mom and Dad during Scout meetings, and of all the fun things the Scouts got to do, like crafts and skits and games.
Sure enough, Lizzie stuck her tongue out at Charles. He stuck his out back at her. Lizzie put her pinkies in the corners of her mouth and pulled it into a jack-o'-lantern shape. Charles did the same back at her. Charles was thinking about trying a new face with crossed eyes and a dangling tongue, but just then he heard Mom’s voice.
“Okay, Scouts, let’s head inside!” Mom was by the back door, waving her arms. “Our visitor hasarrived and it’s time to sit down and put on our listening ears.”
The den often had special visitors. Most of the time they talked about their jobs or about how the Scouts could make a difference in the community. Last month, the chief of police had come! He had made all the Scouts “official deputies.” That was cool.
Back in the living room, Dad was standing next to the Christmas tree talking to a tall man with a big, round stomach. Dad must have said something funny, because just as Charles and the others came in, the man burst into a loud, happy laugh. Dad was laughing, too.
But both men got more serious once the Scouts had settled down and were sitting in a circle on
“Eatalotta, eatalotta, eatalotta pizza!”
“Pepperoni, mushrooms, anchovies on the pizza!”
“Mozzarella cheese and Parmesan, too!”
“Mmmm, mmmm,
good!”
Charles shouted happily with the group. He loved the pizza chant. He loved his bright yellow T-shirt. He loved working toward his Wolf rank. In fact, Charles loved just about everything about being in Cub Scouts.
It was cool that his best friend, Sammy, was in his den. It was awesome that they would both soon become Wolves. And Charles thought it was most especially super-cool
and
awesome that his mom and dad were Akelas — that is, den leaders.That meant that all six Cub Scouts in Charles’s den came to the Petersons’ house for their meeting every week, and it also meant that both Mom and Dad came along to the Scouts’ monthly pack meeting.
After Charles’s dad finished leading the pizza chant, his mom shooed the pack out to the backyard so they could practice for the “Feats of Skill” they would have to perform as part of their Wolf Badge requirements. Some of the den members had a hard time sitting still for very long. So there was always time for jumping and running during their meetings.
Charles and Sammy were practicing their forward and backward rolls when Charles looked up and saw a furry brown face watching from a window in the house. “Hi, Buddy!” he yelled, waving to his puppy.
Charles loved Buddy so much. More than ice cream, more than Cub Scouts, maybe even morethan Christmas, which was only a few weeks away. Buddy was brown, with a white heart-shaped patch on his chest. He was the cutest, smartest, funniest, softest, sweetest puppy ever, and — best of all — he belonged to the Petersons forever and ever.
Lots of puppies had come and gone since the Petersons had started being a foster family. (That meant that they took care of puppies who needed homes.) Usually, each puppy only stayed for a few weeks, until the Petersons found it the perfect forever home. But Buddy was different. Buddy had come to stay.
Now, in the upstairs window, another little face popped up next to Buddy’s. That was the Bean, Charles’s little brother. (His name was really Adam, but nobody
ever
called him that.) The Bean had a fuzzy green stuffed turtle hanging from his mouth. Mr. Turtle came from the pet store, and he had a squeaker inside. He was really a toy fordogs, not for little boys. But the Bean was not exactly a regular little boy. The Bean loved to pretend that he was a dog.
Then a third face popped up. It was Lizzie, Charles’s older sister. She was keeping an eye on Buddy and the Bean while the den had its meeting. Charles figured that Lizzie was probably a little jealous of all the special time he got with Mom and Dad during Scout meetings, and of all the fun things the Scouts got to do, like crafts and skits and games.
Sure enough, Lizzie stuck her tongue out at Charles. He stuck his out back at her. Lizzie put her pinkies in the corners of her mouth and pulled it into a jack-o'-lantern shape. Charles did the same back at her. Charles was thinking about trying a new face with crossed eyes and a dangling tongue, but just then he heard Mom’s voice.
“Okay, Scouts, let’s head inside!” Mom was by the back door, waving her arms. “Our visitor hasarrived and it’s time to sit down and put on our listening ears.”
The den often had special visitors. Most of the time they talked about their jobs or about how the Scouts could make a difference in the community. Last month, the chief of police had come! He had made all the Scouts “official deputies.” That was cool.
Back in the living room, Dad was standing next to the Christmas tree talking to a tall man with a big, round stomach. Dad must have said something funny, because just as Charles and the others came in, the man burst into a loud, happy laugh. Dad was laughing, too.
But both men got more serious once the Scouts had settled down and were sitting in a circle on
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