Free Emmy and the Rats in the Belfry by Lynne Jonell Page B

phone was out of order. Your dad thought it all sounded weird, and they don’t trust Mr. B, and so they don’t want you to go, Emmy, and I want my punch now—spying makes me thirsty.”
    Emmy stared at her parents from her perch on the stool. The crowd had shifted, and she could see only the tops of their heads, but as she gazed she suddenly saw a faint shimmer above them, as if the air were full of glitter.
    She frowned slightly. Squippy must really be waving her card around for the glitter to be flying up over their heads.
    Emmy turned to Thomas again. “They said I wouldn’t have to go? You’re sure?”
    Thomas nodded over the rim of his cup.
    â€œIt does seem weird,” said Joe. “Why would a letter to your parents accidentally end up in Mr. B’s mailbox? He’s not a neighbor. And his last name isn’t even close to Addison.”
    Thomas shrugged. “Your dad asked the same thing, and Mr. B said maybe it was because he used to be the care—the careterk—”
    â€œThe caretaker?” Emmy said.
    Thomas nodded. “He used to do yard work and stuff for that old guy who was there before you.”
    â€œGreat-Great-Uncle William,” said Emmy.
    â€œIs that true?” asked Ana.
    Emmy explained. It had been surprising to her, too, when she had found out. But Mr. and Mrs. B were distantly related to old William Addison and had lived in a cottage on the estate for many years, taking care of the house and yard. Their daughter, Jane, had grown up with old William’s daughter Priscilla, but then Priscilla had died …
    â€œIt gets complicated,” Emmy finished. “And it’s boring. I can’t keep it all straight.”
    â€œSo you’re related to Jane Barmy ?” Ana’s expression was horrified.
    â€œBarely,” said Emmy. “She’s, like, a second cousin once removed, or a first cousin twice removed, or something like that.”
    â€œBut why,” Joe asked, “would Mr. B come over here to deliver the letter?”
    â€œMaybe he saw Emmy’s parents going in,” said Thomas. “Can I have another cookie?”
    â€œShh,” murmured Ana. “Look who’s coming.”
    Moving steadily through the crowd like the prow of a ship, Jim Addison bore down on them, with Emmy’s mother and Gwenda Squipp in his wake.
    â€œEmmy!” her father boomed, smiling broadly. “We have good news!”
    â€œIt’s a last-minute invitation, but we knew you’d want to go,” said her mother.
    â€œThey’ll teach you responsibility,” said her father. “And you’ll love the river.”
    â€œWe’ve got to run home and pack this minute,” Kathy Addison said, looking at her watch. “You’re leaving in less than an hour!”
    â€œAnd why!” cried Gwenda Squipp. “Because you’re traveling with Ana and me!”
    â€œIt all worked out so perfectly,” marveled her mother, shaking her head. “Almost as if it had all been planned .”
    The three adults stood beaming at Emmy with the same happy, confident expression. Silver glitter, like tiny scales, dusted their shoulders and hair.
    Emmy stared at them blankly. There was something here she didn’t understand. “What are you talking about?” she asked with growing apprehension.
    Her father chuckled and passed her a letter. Joe and Ana, on either side, looked over her shoulder at the thin, spidery, old-lady writing. Thomas stopped chewing his cookie. Several crumbs fell out of his open mouth.
    Jim Addison put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “You’re going to visit your great-aunts Emmaline and Augusta in Schenectady. They’re expecting you, and they’ll be meeting the next train.”
    â€œSchenectady?” shrilled Ratty from the carrier. “We’re coming, too, Emmy!”

11
    E MMY CLIMBED twenty-seven steps from the train