Read Online Penelope Crumb Never Forgets by Shawn Stout - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shawn Stout
Ads: Link
our dinner plates. They aren’t expensive, but we’re down to two now, and if you keep breaking them, we’ll be eating right off the table.”
Terrible sticks his head out of his door. “I didn’t break any dishes. Ask her. ” He means me. And the way he says it, I wonder if he knows about my museum. If he knows it was me that took the plates. And the other things, too.
I get sweaty nervous all of a sudden. I shake my head at my mom and say, “Wasn’t me.” And then I don’t know what makes me do this next thing, because I could have just stopped right then and there, but I guess I’m scared of having my museum discovered and also about taking Alfred, so I jab my thumb down the hall toward Terrible’s room and whisper, “He probably didn’t do it on purpose. You know, he is kind of clumsy.”
Mom winks at me and smiles, like she knows that Terrible can’t help breaking things. Then she asks me if I feel okay because I’m looking kind of pale in the face, and I tell her that I think I need to go lie down.
She touches the end of my nose with her finger and says, “Good idea. And tell Littie she can stay for supper if she wants, if it’s okay with her momma.”
“Huh?” is the only thing I can say, because when you’re practically dead, it’s hard to talk much.
“Littie’s over,” Mom says before leaving. “She’s in your room.”
The thought of Littie in my room BY HERSELF gets me alive again, so I race down the hall and shove open the door. “Littie Maple!”
She doesn’t answer right away. And then a small bird voice squeaks from inside my closet. “I’m. In. Here.” Before I can say anything else, she appears in the doorway with her fists on her hips and a look on her face that says, You’ve Got Trouble.
“You’re not supposed to be in there,” I tell her. No one is supposed to know about my museum, or about the things I took.
She shakes her head at me, and I wait for her to say how I am going to be in big trouble if anybody finds out what I’ve done. But then I see a silver chain peeking out from her closed fist.
17.
W hat are you doing with that?” I say.
Littie opens her hand and says, “What are YOU doing with it?”
“Nothing.” And then I remember what I told Patsy. “I’m giving it back. To Patsy Cline.”
“You made a museum,” she says.
I nod and then hold out my hand for the necklace. But Littie puts her hand behind her back.
“You could have told me what you were up to,” she says. “I’m just saying.”
“I didn’t want anybody to know. You aren’t going to tell, are you, Littie?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her so she knows I mean business.
Littie puckers her lip like she’s not so sure. “Why do you call it the Ultra Museum of Forget-Me-Notters?”
“So that I won’t forget about people. And because they are important enough to be in a museum.”
Littie’s face turns bright red at that. “Well, that’s really a fly in a bowl of corn chowder, isn’t it? I guess I’m not important enough to be in your museum. Just like I wasn’t important enough to know about the museum in the first place. If we’re not friends anymore, then just say so.”
“Littie . . .”
“I mean I know I’m homeschooled and everything, and I may not have as many friends as you, and sometimes I am a little bit too nosy, I know, but—”
“Littie—”
“That doesn’t mean you should leave me behind . . .”
My word. I tell Littie that we are friends, and she says, “Friends forever?”
“Yes, Littie.”
“Whew!” She puts her hand to her forehead and falls into the Heap.
“And you can be in my museum, too,” I say. “If you want.”
“I want,” she says. “But do you have to keep your teeth in there?” Then she holds out Patsy’s necklace to me. I wrap my fingers around the sand dollar and pull, but Littie doesn’t let go right away, like she wants me to pull her up out of the Heap. I keep pulling on the necklace, because I’m
Terrible sticks his head out of his door. “I didn’t break any dishes. Ask her. ” He means me. And the way he says it, I wonder if he knows about my museum. If he knows it was me that took the plates. And the other things, too.
I get sweaty nervous all of a sudden. I shake my head at my mom and say, “Wasn’t me.” And then I don’t know what makes me do this next thing, because I could have just stopped right then and there, but I guess I’m scared of having my museum discovered and also about taking Alfred, so I jab my thumb down the hall toward Terrible’s room and whisper, “He probably didn’t do it on purpose. You know, he is kind of clumsy.”
Mom winks at me and smiles, like she knows that Terrible can’t help breaking things. Then she asks me if I feel okay because I’m looking kind of pale in the face, and I tell her that I think I need to go lie down.
She touches the end of my nose with her finger and says, “Good idea. And tell Littie she can stay for supper if she wants, if it’s okay with her momma.”
“Huh?” is the only thing I can say, because when you’re practically dead, it’s hard to talk much.
“Littie’s over,” Mom says before leaving. “She’s in your room.”
The thought of Littie in my room BY HERSELF gets me alive again, so I race down the hall and shove open the door. “Littie Maple!”
She doesn’t answer right away. And then a small bird voice squeaks from inside my closet. “I’m. In. Here.” Before I can say anything else, she appears in the doorway with her fists on her hips and a look on her face that says, You’ve Got Trouble.
“You’re not supposed to be in there,” I tell her. No one is supposed to know about my museum, or about the things I took.
She shakes her head at me, and I wait for her to say how I am going to be in big trouble if anybody finds out what I’ve done. But then I see a silver chain peeking out from her closed fist.
17.
W hat are you doing with that?” I say.
Littie opens her hand and says, “What are YOU doing with it?”
“Nothing.” And then I remember what I told Patsy. “I’m giving it back. To Patsy Cline.”
“You made a museum,” she says.
I nod and then hold out my hand for the necklace. But Littie puts her hand behind her back.
“You could have told me what you were up to,” she says. “I’m just saying.”
“I didn’t want anybody to know. You aren’t going to tell, are you, Littie?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her so she knows I mean business.
Littie puckers her lip like she’s not so sure. “Why do you call it the Ultra Museum of Forget-Me-Notters?”
“So that I won’t forget about people. And because they are important enough to be in a museum.”
Littie’s face turns bright red at that. “Well, that’s really a fly in a bowl of corn chowder, isn’t it? I guess I’m not important enough to be in your museum. Just like I wasn’t important enough to know about the museum in the first place. If we’re not friends anymore, then just say so.”
“Littie . . .”
“I mean I know I’m homeschooled and everything, and I may not have as many friends as you, and sometimes I am a little bit too nosy, I know, but—”
“Littie—”
“That doesn’t mean you should leave me behind . . .”
My word. I tell Littie that we are friends, and she says, “Friends forever?”
“Yes, Littie.”
“Whew!” She puts her hand to her forehead and falls into the Heap.
“And you can be in my museum, too,” I say. “If you want.”
“I want,” she says. “But do you have to keep your teeth in there?” Then she holds out Patsy’s necklace to me. I wrap my fingers around the sand dollar and pull, but Littie doesn’t let go right away, like she wants me to pull her up out of the Heap. I keep pulling on the necklace, because I’m
Similar Books
