Free Just Plain Al: The Al Series, Book Five by Constance C. Greene

reclining upon it. “The horses doovries. My mother says forgive her, she’s so embarrassed she forgot it. Good night and thanks again.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” my father asked, coming out of the kitchen, pointing at the pineapple.
    â€œIt’s Al’s mother’s horses doovries,” I explained. “She forgot them.”
    â€œToo bad,” said my father, circling the pineapple as if it were a live hand grenade.
    â€œSay what you will,” my mother said, “those little boys were wonderful. Not a peep out of them.”
    Speak of the devil. Wearing pajamas and a fuzzy look, Hubie staggered in. “I think I’m walking in my sleep,” he mumbled. “Where’s the cake?”
    â€œWhere’s Teddy?” my mother said. “Asleep?”
    â€œHe’s sick. He told me to bring him a piece of cake. So here I am.” Hubie dug at his eyes with his fists.
    â€œSick?” My mother and father looked startled.
    â€œHe’s got spots.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œAll over.”
    My mother and father rushed toward Teddy’s room.
    â€œIt’s probably early acne,” I said.
    â€œEither that or measles. Probably measles.” Hubie shrugged. He didn’t give up easily. “Where’s the cake?” he said again.

chapter 14
    â€œTeddy has chicken pox,” I told Al the next day. “Talk about timing. Just before school starts. The kid’s a genius.”
    â€œThe kid’s also gonna itch like fury,” Al said. We were walking to Rockefeller Center to watch the tourists hang out and to talk to Rudy.
    He had told us holidays were a perfect time to play his violin in tourist haunts. “Strolling violinists are in short supply back in Keokuk,” he said. “Those of my caliber, anyway. They love me, they think I’m Mr. New York. Little do they know I was born in Jersey City.”
    â€œYou said you were born on a roller coaster at Coney Island,” I reminded him. “Right,” he snapped his fingers. “It was my twin brother was born in Jersey City.” There’s no way to keep up with him. He’s a card.
    â€œThe dinner was delicious,” Al told me, stomping along. For once she left her red shoes home. She wore her running shoes, instead. “My mother had a super time. I’ll remember that party until the day I die. Maybe longer.”
    â€œIt was fun,” I agreed. “We had a great time.”
    â€œFirst let’s check out the place we saw that woman,” Al said. “I have some money today. I can’t cash my birthday check on Sunday, but my mother gave me an advance on it. I’m giving that poor soul five dollars to buy food for her family.”
    â€œLet’s find Rudy first,” I said. I didn’t want to see that woman again. I was afraid of her. I don’t know why, but I was. I have a bad habit of postponing things I don’t want to face.
    â€œWhat’s with you?” Al asked, puzzled. “You want to forget her, don’t you?”
    â€œNot forget exactly,” I said. “I can’t exactly explain. She scares me.”
    â€œThen you must be scared a lot. There’re a lot of starving people around these days. You might say it’s an epidemic. She must be weak as a cat.” Al scowled at me. “What could she do to you?”
    â€œI’m not scared of what she might do.” I tried to explain. “I’m scared of what she might say, how she’d look at me.”
    Al set the pace. We walked briskly at first, until the heat got to be too much. Then we slowed down, pacing ourselves.
    â€œI love the city on holidays. It’s almost like the country.” Al flung wide her arms, indicating the almost deserted streets, the absence of traffic. “All we need are a few cows and a couple of pigs and we’re in clover.” Then she cried, “Look, isn’t that