Free Bran Hambric: The Farfield Curse by Kaleb Nation Page B

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    Bran slid to the kitchen door, taken aback at how Rosie was acting. Baldretta, who was sitting on the stairs and munching on a box of chocolates, looked from Rosie to Sewey, her eyes swaying like a pendulum.
    "I’m the owner of this house, and I want to answer my door," Sewey snapped, pushing Rosie out of the way, and before she could stop him, he jerked opened the door. Standing there was Bill the milkman, dressed up in his suit with a crate of milk.
    "Hello, chap. Hello, Rosie. Just here to deliver a bit o’ milk," Bill said.
    Sewey eyed Rosie suspiciously, but then stepped forward and left her standing there. "You’re late," he growled. "Besides, idiot, you don’t deliver on Sundays."
     
    "Sorry," Bill said, his smile not wavering. "Wasn’t enough to bring last time. The ice cream company took all we had to make up for a batch lost in a road accident. Company policy."
    Sewey took the tray amid grumbles. With a quick tip of his hat to Rosie, Bill turned to leave. Sewey’s eyes lit up like strobes when he saw Bill look at her. "Aha!" he said when he shut the door. "No wonder you were acting ridiculous about answering the door! He’s the secret B from the roses!"
    "But I don’t even like Bill!" Rosie protested.
    "Well, I don’t like him either," Sewey said with a snicker. "But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. "
    Rosie went red but refused to speak any further on the matter. Half an hour later, they sat down to eat. The pancakes were steaming and had butter smeared across each one. Balder plopped his into an ocean of syrup as Sewey pulled out his day book.
    "Today we have the picnic," he proclaimed. "Then we’re going to the bookstore."
    "Whatever for?" Mabel asked. Sewey was hardly seen touching, much less reading, a book.
    "Because I’m not paying for another exterminator who can’t even keep regular gnomes away," Sewey said. "So I’m getting a book on pest control."
    "Pests!" Mabel shrieked, slinging out her bottle of disinfectant.
    "Yes," Sewey nodded. "Gnomes on the roof, in the house, on the streets, at work. Pests. "
    He started to read the rest of the page in his day book. As they ate, Bran glanced at Rosie. She still seemed to be a little nervous, the same as when she had run to answer the door. It was very unlike her to be that way, and he could tell she was trying to hide it.
    Sewey poked another pancake. "I checked the clock in the kitchen," he said. "The picnic doesn’t start until eleven, and we’ve got a good hour and a half till then at least."
    At that, Mabel furrowed her brow. Sewey looked at her.
    "I just remembered," she said. "I think Mrs. Yankerbank said it started at nine this week…"
    All of a sudden, everyone stopped chewing, even Baldretta.
    "She what?" Sewey said.
    "I think she said they moved the time two hours earlier this week, for some reason…" Mabel said. Realization hit Sewey like an anvil from the sky.
    "Oh, rot!" he shouted.
    "We’re not early," Bran said. "We’re half an hour late! "
    They leapt from their places in horror and left their dishes, stampeding to the stairs.
    "How could this happen?" Sewey gasped, fixing his hair in the mirror. Mabel grabbed her purse, and Rosie seized Baldretta so she wouldn’t be trampled underfoot. Balder started to scamper back up the stairs, but Sewey caught him like a tiny piglet.
    "No time, we’ve got to go!" he said.
    "But I forgot my jelly beans!" Balder squealed as Sewey carried him out the door and Mabel locked it behind them. The streets were abandoned—the neighbors were all at Givvyng Park.
    "They’re probably talking about us right now!" Mabel gasped.
    Sewey ran to the Schweezer and grabbed the door handle, and almost pulled it clean off. The door was locked. And all his emergency keys were inside the house.
    Luckily, Mabel had a key of her own. Sewey sped to sixty immediately after turning the ignition. Mabel, who hadn’t yet buckled her seat belt, slammed into Balder, nearly crushing him. Rosie sat