She opened her
eyes and leaned forward to peer ahead. “It’s dark,” she said. “I don’t know what
that means, whether it’s good or bad.”
Ducky slowed down, then stopped in front of the house. “Do you want me
to wait?” he asked Amalia.
“No. You better go,” she said, whispering now. “I’ll see you all in school on
Monday.” She scrambled out of the car.
Ducky turned the car around and we started off again, this time in a
quieter mood.
“So how come you’re all going to the same address?” Ducky asked,
glancing in the rearview mirror.
Maggie told him about Jill and the sleepover.
“You think her mother and sister are home by now?” he said.
“Who has a working watch?” asked Sunny sullenly.
“I do,” said Ducky. “It’s 12:40.”
“I’m positive they’re home,” replied Sunny.
After a pause Ducky said, “If you want, I could come get you guys
tomorrow morning. I could take you back to the house where the party was, and
we could look for your wallet, Sunny.”
“But won’t someone see us?” she asked.
“Um, no. No one’s home. I mean, they’re gone for the weekend.:
I had the unpleasant feeling that Ducky was leaving something out, but
Sunny brightened. “Would you really do that?” she asked.
“Sure,” replied Ducky, brightening himself. “I’d be happy to. I’ll come get
you at eleven tomorrow, okay?”
“Cool!” she cried.
“Well, here we are,” Ducky said a few moments later as he stopped in
front of the Hendersons’.
I peered out the window. Like Maggie’s house, Jill’s was dark. Not a single
light on.
“Maybe they’re not back,” I suggested.
“No, they’re back,” said Maggie. “If they were still out, the porch light
would be on, at least.”
We slithered out of Ducky’s car and waved at him as he pul ed away and
drove down the street. Then we headed for the front door.
Early Tuesday morning 10/7
An almost sleepless night. If things don’t get straightened out soon I’l
have bags under my eyes big enough to carry stuff in. It’s 4:45 AM. I’ve been
awake since 4:10. I can write for almost two hours before anyone else gets up
around here.
“Well, now what should we do?”
Sunny and Maggie and I were standing halfway up the Hendersons’ lawn,
gazing at the dark house..
“Which window is Jill’s?” asked Sunny loudly.
“That one,” I said, pointing to the second story. “And the one next to it.
Hey, I think a little light is on in her room!”
“Should we call to her?” asked Maggie. “Which one is her mother’s
window?” Maggie looked awfully nervous.
“Her mother’s room is in the back,” I said. “But don’t cal to Jill. Here.” I
picked up a small stone and tossed it at one of Jill’s windows. It banged against
the screen.
Nothing.
“Throw another,” said Sunny, not quite so loudly. She looked sort of
miserable again. She was lying on the front stoop, cradling her head in her arms.
Four stones later, Jill suddenly yanked up her window shade. She waved
crossly at us, then disappeared.
“Oh, by. She’s still mad,” said Maggie.
“Still mad,” repeated Sunny. “No, I think she’s mad again. She has way
more things to be mad about now.” Sunny sat up. “Oh. Oh, do I ever feel sick
again.”
Two minutes later, Jill quietly unlocked the front door and opened it – just
in time to hear Sunny retching in the bushes.
“What-? Ew…What is-? Oh, ew!” Jill closed the door in our faces. If it
hadn’t been so late at night, I think she would have slammed it.
I stood there staring at the door. Finally I called, “Jil ?”
The door opened a crack. “What is going on?” whispered Jill. “Where have
you been? Is Sunny finished throwing up? Why is she throwing up – out here?
Couldn’t she at least have waited until she got outside? That is so disgusting.”
I looked at Maggie. I didn’t know which question to answer first. So instead
I asked Jill a