Free Anastasia, Ask Your Analyst by Lois Lowry Page B

caboose to reach the shelf where the cookie jar was. There were cookies everywhere, and the fat blue pottery cookie jar was in shattered pieces on the floor.
    Sadly, Anastasia picked up the pieces and dropped them into the wastebasket. Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway.
    "My train," he whimpered.
    Anastasia put her arm around him. "Mom and I will try to fix it after that brat leaves," she said. "Right now we'd better find her."
    There was a trail of cookie crumbs on the back stairs. They followed it, and found Nicky in the master bedroom. She was spraying herself with Mrs. Krupnik's perfume. She was wearing Mrs. Krupnik's best high-heeled shoes.
    Anastasia reached for the perfume bottle, to take it away from Nicky. Nicky bit her on the arm.
    "OW!" said Anastasia.
    "I
told
you Nicky Coletti bites," said Sam grimly.
    Anastasia wrestled Nicky to the floor, took away the perfume, and removed her mother's shoes. Nicky darted away in her stocking feet and disappeared.
    Anastasia sighed, picked up Nicky's little patent leather shoes, rubbed the aching bite mark on her arm, and went in pursuit.
    The bathroom was empty, but the toilet paper had been unwound and strewn around the floor. A tube of bright green Prell shampoo had been squeezed into the bathtub.
    "She's really fast," said Anastasia. "Where do you suppose she went?" She headed toward Sam's bedroom, with Sam trotting behind her.
    "My nursery school teacher says that Nicky Coletti is faster than a speeding bullet," said Sam.
    His bedroom was ominously quiet. They stood in the doorway, looking in; Sam's finger-paints had been opened, and his bedspread was smeared with blue and green paint.
    Suddenly, Nicky appeared, jumping up from her hiding place behind the closet door. She took aim and threw a Matchbox car in their direction. Anastasia shielded Sam, and the missile caught her on the shoulder as it whizzed past.
    "OW!" she said again. She grabbed for Nicky, caught her as she dashed by, and pinioned her arms to her sides. Nicky kicked her in the shins.
    "I
told
you Nicky Coletti kicks," murmured Sam.
    "Nicky," said Anastasia, holding the little girl tightly
by the shoulders, "go downstairs. Your mother wants you."
    Pouting, Nicky shook herself loose and headed down the front stairs toward the living room. Anastasia followed, rubbing her wounds.
    "There you are, Nicky, you little devil," said Shirley Coletti. "If you broke anything, I'm going to tell your daddy to whip you when we get home." She turned back to Anastasia's mother. "So, as I was saying, with your wall-to-wall, like I have, you don't have your problem with trying to keep these old floors clean."
    Nicky had sauntered away.
    "She's headed for your studio, Mom," said Sam loudly. "And she's already wrecked every other room, almost."
    Mrs. Krupnik leaped to her feet and took off after Nicky.
    "That Nicky," said Shirley Coletti, smiling at Anastasia. "She's your basic hyperactive? The doctor says that your hyperactives are smarter than other children, did you know that?"
    Mrs. Krupnik returned with Nicky, kicking and whining, under one arm. She deposited her unceremoniously in Mrs. Coletti's lap. Nicky curled up, leaned against her mother, and looked slyly at Anastasia.
    Mrs. Coletti sniffed. "You found yourself some perfume, didn't you, Nicky? You're a real little lady. Is that one of your Avon products?" she asked Mrs. Krupnik.
    "No. It's called Je Reviens," said Katherine Krupnik in an ominous voice.
    "French, huh? That's real la-di-da. You know Avon has some real good scents, your florals? And they're not as expensive as your French," said Shirley Coletti.
    "Anastasia," said Mrs. Krupnik, "why don't you get Mrs. Coletti's coat? And Nicky's snowsuit?"
    "I'll do that," said Anastasia.

    Myron Krupnik came through the back door and brushed at the shoulders of his heavy jacket. "It's starting to snow," he announced. "I got the snow tires put on just in time."
    His wife was vacuuming cookie crumbs from the kitchen