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Authors: Marthe Jocelyn
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Pizza Box. I’ll meet you out front in, what? Twenty minutes?”
He glanced at Mr. D. for confirmation. “Twenty minutes. Will that give you time to get changed out of thirteenth-century gear? I’ll go get Jane. Oh, and ask Hubert, too.”
“Sure, Dad,” I said.
Hubert was suddenly at my elbow.
“Billie, what happened upstairs?” he asked. “Alyssa is foaming at the mouth.”
Mr. Donaldson raised an eyebrow and headed straight for the stairs.
“Twenty minutes, Billie,” said my dad as he followed Mr. D.
Hubert and I speed-walked to the bathroom, almost getting there safely.
“Billie!”
Alyssa’s screech followed me into the girls’ room. Because there was a furious female on his tail, Hubert couldn’t come in with me. I guessed he would lurk in the hall until the coast was clear. I could finally put Harry down. He immediately gave the warning growl that I’d learned to dread.
Alyssa came slamming through the door, hobbling on her shoes. One of them was as bright and rubbery as the day they arrived in the mail, and the other one looked like soggy cardboard.
“I don’t know how you did this,” Alyssa saidin a voice full of vengeance, “but I’m going to make you pay! Ewww! What’s that smell?”
Harry had done his business, but there was nothing to be seen. I shrugged my shoulders.
Alyssa backed out of the room, holding her nose and giving me the evil eye.
Too bad I didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her face one minute later, but Hubert gave me a full report.
As Alyssa stalked down the hall, proclaiming loudly to the cafeteria line that Billie Stoner was a stinker, it became clear that her one blue, shiny shoe was encrusted with fresh dog poop.
I frantically cleaned up the remaining evidence and stuck my head out of the bathroom to see. Alyssa began sobbing wildly. Finally she settled down and reluctantly accepted Megan’s shabby old gym shoes to wear for the afternoon.
20 • Harry’s Bath
H ubert joined me in the girls’ room, and we laughed so hard that Harry got excited and barked along with us. We had to use one of the dog biscuits from the recipe to make him quiet.
“We only have a few minutes,” I reminded Hubert. “My father is threatening to humiliate me some more by taking us out to lunch.”
I ran water into the sink, but it filled so quickly I knew it was nowhere near two gallons. Plus, it was so shallow that Harry could never be submerged. Maybe we’d have to sneak into the kitchen.
“How about the toilet?” asked Hubert. “It’s just sitting there, full of water.”
“Ready and waiting,” I added. He lifted up the seat.
I unfolded the page from the phone book with the recipe scribbled around the edges. “Water,” I said. “Check,” said Hubert. “Talcum powder.”
“Check.”
“Okay, this one is made of powdered goat horn,” I said, pouring from the Sippy-Cup.
“Check,” said Hubert.
“And this one is chrysanthemum flowers.”
“Check.”
“Tubers of lilyturf.” I remembered that Jody had crumbled them into small chunks when she’d made the bath for me last spring.
“Yuck,” said Hubert. “Check.”
“Now we have to mash up the dog biscuits.” I dumped the contents of the box onto the floor. I could see where Harry was by where the bits were vanishing.
Hubert and I stomped until the floor was covered with crumbs. Then we swept them upin our hands and tossed them into the toilet with the rest of the mess.
“And the gum!” Hubert reminded me. “I chewed my jaw off last night.” We squeezed the gummy lumps to let the juice trickle in and then threw in the whole bagful.
Harry was panting.
“This is for you, boy,” I said. “You lucky doggy.” I looked around for something to stir with but ended up using my hand.
“This is completely disgusting,” I said. “Now for the hard part. We have to put him in and hold him under.”
I reached for Harry.
“In complete darkness,” I added. “Turn off the light, would
He glanced at Mr. D. for confirmation. “Twenty minutes. Will that give you time to get changed out of thirteenth-century gear? I’ll go get Jane. Oh, and ask Hubert, too.”
“Sure, Dad,” I said.
Hubert was suddenly at my elbow.
“Billie, what happened upstairs?” he asked. “Alyssa is foaming at the mouth.”
Mr. Donaldson raised an eyebrow and headed straight for the stairs.
“Twenty minutes, Billie,” said my dad as he followed Mr. D.
Hubert and I speed-walked to the bathroom, almost getting there safely.
“Billie!”
Alyssa’s screech followed me into the girls’ room. Because there was a furious female on his tail, Hubert couldn’t come in with me. I guessed he would lurk in the hall until the coast was clear. I could finally put Harry down. He immediately gave the warning growl that I’d learned to dread.
Alyssa came slamming through the door, hobbling on her shoes. One of them was as bright and rubbery as the day they arrived in the mail, and the other one looked like soggy cardboard.
“I don’t know how you did this,” Alyssa saidin a voice full of vengeance, “but I’m going to make you pay! Ewww! What’s that smell?”
Harry had done his business, but there was nothing to be seen. I shrugged my shoulders.
Alyssa backed out of the room, holding her nose and giving me the evil eye.
Too bad I didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her face one minute later, but Hubert gave me a full report.
As Alyssa stalked down the hall, proclaiming loudly to the cafeteria line that Billie Stoner was a stinker, it became clear that her one blue, shiny shoe was encrusted with fresh dog poop.
I frantically cleaned up the remaining evidence and stuck my head out of the bathroom to see. Alyssa began sobbing wildly. Finally she settled down and reluctantly accepted Megan’s shabby old gym shoes to wear for the afternoon.
20 • Harry’s Bath
H ubert joined me in the girls’ room, and we laughed so hard that Harry got excited and barked along with us. We had to use one of the dog biscuits from the recipe to make him quiet.
“We only have a few minutes,” I reminded Hubert. “My father is threatening to humiliate me some more by taking us out to lunch.”
I ran water into the sink, but it filled so quickly I knew it was nowhere near two gallons. Plus, it was so shallow that Harry could never be submerged. Maybe we’d have to sneak into the kitchen.
“How about the toilet?” asked Hubert. “It’s just sitting there, full of water.”
“Ready and waiting,” I added. He lifted up the seat.
I unfolded the page from the phone book with the recipe scribbled around the edges. “Water,” I said. “Check,” said Hubert. “Talcum powder.”
“Check.”
“Okay, this one is made of powdered goat horn,” I said, pouring from the Sippy-Cup.
“Check,” said Hubert.
“And this one is chrysanthemum flowers.”
“Check.”
“Tubers of lilyturf.” I remembered that Jody had crumbled them into small chunks when she’d made the bath for me last spring.
“Yuck,” said Hubert. “Check.”
“Now we have to mash up the dog biscuits.” I dumped the contents of the box onto the floor. I could see where Harry was by where the bits were vanishing.
Hubert and I stomped until the floor was covered with crumbs. Then we swept them upin our hands and tossed them into the toilet with the rest of the mess.
“And the gum!” Hubert reminded me. “I chewed my jaw off last night.” We squeezed the gummy lumps to let the juice trickle in and then threw in the whole bagful.
Harry was panting.
“This is for you, boy,” I said. “You lucky doggy.” I looked around for something to stir with but ended up using my hand.
“This is completely disgusting,” I said. “Now for the hard part. We have to put him in and hold him under.”
I reached for Harry.
“In complete darkness,” I added. “Turn off the light, would
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