Free The Creek by Jennifer L. Holm Page B

and—”
    “No kidding, Penny, that’s what you put in the bucket!” Mac said sarcastically.
    Benji whirled on Mac, brandishing a fist: “Shut up so she can talk.” He turned back to Penny. “What do you mean?”
    “Guts,” she said, and then corrected herself. “
Real
guts.”
    The boys went over to the barbecue pit and gathered around the bucket. Benji shone his light into it. Mac gestured toward where Penny was sitting. He pointed a finger at his head and twirled it. Crazy.
    Benji and Oren nodded. Teddy bit his lip, a worried expression on his face.
    “You guys see it?” Penny called.
    Mac hoisted the bucket and brought it over to Penny. She jumped up and fell back, knocking over the bucket. The contents spilled out on the well-lit cedar deck Mr. Albright had just built a month before.
    It was just Jell-O and toys.
    “I saw it!” she said in a shaking voice. “It was there! There was an eye, and an ear. Like from a dog!”
    “An ear?” Oren asked doubtfully.
    “I saw it! Somebody must have switched it or something! Caleb did it!” she cried wildly.
    Zachary looked around uneasily.
    Teddy grabbed his sister’s hand. “C’mon Penny, let’s go home. It’s late.”
    “But I saw it,”
she said brokenly, starting to cry.
    “Go home, Penny,” Benji said in a gentle voice.
    Teddy tugged Penny past the curious kids still lined up waiting to go through the trail.
    “Hey! Wait up, you guys!” Zachary shouted, catching up to Penny and Teddy.
    The three of them walked in uncomfortable silence up the block.
    “I gave the money to Mac,” Zachary said, trying to make conversation. He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a mangled-looking piece of bubble gum. “Want a piece?”
    “No, thanks,” Penny said glumly. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind—the guts in the bucket, everything so red and slimy.
    “I believe you,” Zachary said earnestly.
    She stopped in mid stride.
    “You do?” she asked, turning to him, taking in his sweaty forehead, the way his jeans were too tight across his belly. “Really?”
    “Yeah,” he said, slightly raising his arm in its sling.
    Penny looked down the block at the Albrights’ house, a dejected expression on her face. “I wish the guys did.”
    “It’s okay,” Zachary said.
    Penny turned to him and said, spontaneously, “Want to come to my birthday party tomorrow night?”
    He smiled tremulously.
    “Sure,” he said.

CHAPTER 7
    S he could hardly believe it.
    There were no pancakes.
    Her mother always made her pancakes on her birthday, sometimes blueberry ones, and once even chocolate chip. But this morning, the only thing waiting for her was cold cereal, a barfing baby brother, and a harried-looking mother. There was not a pancake in sight.
    Penny was very superstitious about birthdays. Your birthday predicted what the rest of your year would be like. A bad birthday meant a bad year. Which is exactly what had happened last year. She’d accidentally killed a cricket on her birthday and the whole year had been one big disaster. Amy had been mean to her at every opportunity, she’d gotten a little brother instead of a little sister like she’d hoped, and a case ofthe chicken pox had prevented her from trying out for Softball. Not to mention that her hamster had run away, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Cat had eaten it. Twelve had been a bad year. She was fervently hoping thirteen would be better, but the lack of pancakes seemed like a bad omen.
    She stepped out the front door, and there was Mrs. Bukvic, wearing a suit and looking around anxiously.
    “Buster!” Mrs. Bukvic called out in a syrupy voice. “Come home to Mommy!”
    The boys were already hard at work by the time Penny got down to the woods.The construction of the fort was coming along fine. Mac had filched a big strip of scrap carpet, which they were using to cover the plywood floor; Benji had cleverly nailed on steps made out of bits of the two-by-fours; and Oren had