CHAPTER 7

 

 

We ran in the kitchen, with Stinky in tow.

"Why, hello Bart, how are you?" My Mom was always nice to all the kids. She looked thoughtful, and I knew she was wondering where the Lilac Spray was.

"Look what the kids gave me for joining their club!" exclaimed Stinky, as he ripped off the cover of the shoe box and showed my Mom the sneakers.

She looked at me quizzically.

"Is that why you--"

"Hey, Mom," I interrupted, before she could tell Stinky about our window cleaning, "can Stinky, I mean Bart, stay over tonight?"

Her face fell.

"Well, I guess so honey. I had a date for tonight, but I can cancel it."

What was this? A date? I could count on one hand the number of guys my Mom had gone out with. Most of them were bozos too. I held my breath and asked, "With Friendly Cop Bill?"

She nodded and I whooped.

"But Mom," I said, "we can stay by ourselves. It would only be a couple of hours, right?"

She looked pensive. "I'll ask Bill what he thinks."

She turned to Stinky. "In any event, you can stay over, Bart."

"Mom," I said, "can Mikey and Mary stay too? I know they stayed last night, but we wanted to have a Club Meeting and we can't go in the field anymore."

I figured that would get to her, playing on her sympathy and all. It did, and she said yes. So, while she placed the call to Bella of the Balla, telling her of our plans, we headed for my room to settle in.

I loaned Stinky a pair of my socks, because he wasn't wearing any, and he tried on the new sneakers. Mary held his old ones at arm's length, and went outside to throw them in the trash.

Stinky didn't have a sleeping bag, so I made a bed for him out of blankets. He looked around my room, and I had a feeling that this room was nothing like his.

My Mom is really into computers, she works for some computer outfit in town, so I have my own computer in my room.

He was checking it out, so I turned it on and showed him some of the games and stuff. I was amazed at how good he was at the games. This kid had a brain after all.

My Mom called us for dinner, and we ate hot dogs, hamburgers and potato salad. My Mom is really a good cook, and stinky ate like there was no tomorrow. My Mom just watched him and winked at me.

After we were all stuffed to the gills, we went to my teepee for the Club Meeting. It was a tight squeeze, but we all fit.

"The ninth meeting of the Dream Club is now called to order. I bring up new business of having Stinky join the club. All in favor?"

We all raised our hands. Stinky grinned.

"Okay," I continued, "now for the initiation. Close your eyes, Stinky."

"Don't worry," added Mary, "it's nothing painful."

He closed his eyes.

"Now," I said, "all the people in this club are supposed to add a dream to our list. Our list so far includes three paint-ball guns, a trip to Disneyland, a new Dad for me and a big-screen T.V.. And, your dream has to be something we can all share."

He thought and thought, longer than all three of us put together. He thought so long that Mikey and I started a whispered discussion about the Man in the Red Jacket. Then, Mary nudged me. Stinky's face was screwing up again, like he was going to cry.

"Well," I said, "do you have your dream, Stink?"

"Yeah," he replied, his head hanging down, his tears making spots on the teepee floor, "but it's not something we can all share."

"Well, let's hear it and we'll decide."

He was silent for a minute, then said, "I want my Dad to stop hitting me." He pulled up his shirt and I saw big round black and blue marks, like his dad had punched him.

Mary, Mikey and I looked at each other. Somehow, the fact that his father hit him didn't really surprise me all that much.

Mary said, "I think it's a fine dream, Stinky. You can open your eyes."

He did, and Mikey said, "We can all share that dream with you, Stink." We nodded.

"Thanks guys."

After the meeting was over, and we had changed into our pajamas, I heard the doorbell. We tip-toed down the hall to see Bill picking up my Mom for their date. He had a suit on, had his black hair all combed nice, and Mom looked really pretty greeting him at the door.

"Ohhhh," whispered Mary, "I like her dress."

I don't know too much about women's clothes, but my Mom looked good in just about anything.

We listened to their conversation.

"How are the kids doing?"

"Well, they stayed over last night and again tonight. I always seem to have a houseful, and only one is mine!" They both laughed.

We peeked around the corner into the living room, where they were standing. They were looking at each other kind of funny.

"Why are they staring at each other like that?" I whispered to Mikey.

Mary slugged me. "They're in love, dummy."

"Cool," I said.

We started giggling and punching each other, and my Mom heard us.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she yelled.

We trooped into the living room, and Bill gave us all a handshake.

"Now," he said, "we'll be gone just a few hours. Listen to me very carefully. If you hear or see anything out of the ordinary, call 9-1-1 right away. Don't answer the door and keep it LOCKED, understood?"

We nodded, and I wanted to tell him that I was looking at Mikey and Mikey was out of the ordinary, but I didn't want my Mom to get mad at me.

"Okay," he continued, "we will call you an hour from now, so be sure to answer the phone."

We nodded again.

It was my Mom's turn. "And NO roughhousing. Mary, if they start that, call your Mom, okay?"

Mary smirked at us, and we knew she'd do it. Oh, well, there went our plans for the night.

"And," she continued, "give Cotton a bath. The poor little guy hasn't had a bath in two weeks." I groaned and looked down at him. He was sort of scruffy-looking.

After they left, we got out the stuff for his bath. He always does this hiding act when it's bath time, so we had to hunt allover the house for him.

Mary finally found him hiding in the teepee. He bared his teeth and she called me to come get him.

"You dumb dog," I said as I scooped him up. It was a funny thing about this dog. He didn't like strangers, but the first time Stinky and Bill came over, he didn't bark or anything. It was like this doggie sense he had, and it always turned out that whatever people he liked, I liked too.

I was glad he liked Bill, though. There was nothing like a lunging dog to turn a prospective Dad away.

After two escapes, and much gnashing of teeth, his and mine, we finally got Cotton into the kitchen sink. I

attached the sprayer, and started rinsing him. He stood there shivering, looking as pitiful as possible, hoping I'm sure that I'd feel sorry for him and stop the bath. No such luck, fella.

The shampoo part was fun, and I made the kids laugh by creating punk hairdos out of his wet fur. He growled at me, so I figured it was time to rinse him.

Just then, the hose started slipping off the faucet, and water spewed out all over the room, all over Mikey, Mary and Stinky, who stood on the other side of the sink watching us.

Mary screamed, Stinky cursed, and Mikey stood with his mouth open, like he couldn't believe it.

I turned the water off quickly, but not before they were drenched to the skin. Maybe my Mom was right. Maybe trouble does follow me.

Laughing really hard, I pointed at them. They were not amused.

Mary stood with her hands on her hips, and spat, "Cretin!"

Mikey glared at me and yelled, "Jerk!"

Stinky muttered a curse and wrung out his pajama top.

"Okay, you guys," I said, still laughing, "I have some extra pajamas in my second drawer. Help yourselves."

After they left, I howled with laughter as I was finishing up Cotton.

But, as I headed in to collect their wet pajamas, and released Cotton to run around the room six million times to dry himself off, I heard a noise that made me stop in my tracks.