CHAPTER SEVEN
Never Trust the Weather Forecast

Becky hits the top bunk. I snuggle into the bottom bunk. Mom shuts the door. She thinks it will keep Bagels out.

I’m tired. My eyelids are getting heavy. As I start to close my eyes, I see a hairy face at the window. It grins at me. It has big yellow teeth. They look like blank mahjong tiles.

Wow, I’m so tired my imagination’s playing tricks on me.

“Weroo, weroo.”

I dream there’s a dog howling in my ear.

The dream dog stands on my chest. I can’t breathe.

I open my eyes. It’s not a dream. It’s Bagels.

Bagels and Becky have joined me in the bottom bunk.

“What are you guys doing?” I say. I reach under my pillow and take out my alligator flashlight. Becky and Bagels are staring at me. They look scary.

“It’s raining on our bed,” whispers Becky.

“That’s impossible,” I say. “The weather forecast said clear skies.”

“My bed’s wet,” she says.

I reach up and touch the top bunk. It’s wet.

“Becky,” I say, “are you sure you didn’t…” “

I’m sure,” she growls. She hands me Blanky. It’s wet too.

“Maybe Bagels?” I suggest.

“Grrr,” says Bagels.

“No,” says Becky. “It’s rain.”

Then I hear it. The rain is coming down pretty hard.

I also hear Mom and Dad in the living room. The light’s on in there.

Becky, Bagels and I head for the door. I step in a puddle.

In the living room, Mom and Dad are standing under a picnic umbrella. Mom’s wearing a long nightshirt that says Books are a Girl’s Best Friend on the front. Dad’s wearing his Spider-Man pajamas.

Mom says, “Looks like the weatherman lied.”

Dad smiles a fake smile. “This is just what the old pioneers had to endure. Is this fun, kids, or what?”

“Yip, yip, grr-ip!” Bagels chases raindrops.

“What shall we do?” says Mom.

I’m just about to say something when Bagels rushes to the front door. He growls.

“Rrrrr, grrr, gwrr.”

“What now?” says Dad.

Bagels backs away from the door. He does a backflip, then runs back at the door and starts to scratch on it.

“Grr, rrr, weroo, roo!”

We all huddle under Mom’s umbrella.

“Listen,” she says. We listen.

“What?” says Dad.

“Didn’t you hear it?”

We all shake our heads.

“Hear what?” I ask.

Mom frowns. “I heard something out there. Footsteps. Heavy breathing. When Bagels barked, I thought it ran away.”

“A bear?” Becky asks.

“This isn’t bear country,” says Dad.

“Why don’t you check, Dad?” says Becky.

“I’m not checking.” He looks at Mom. “Why don’t you check?”

“I’m not checking,” says Mom.

Becky and I look at each other. No chance.

Bagels rushes from the front door to the kitchen door. He barks. He does more backflips.

Becky says, “Bagels wants to protect us. Brave Bagels.”

Becky’s forgotten about the sheep.

Finally, Dad agrees to check outside. He puts on his baseball cap. He takes the picnic umbrella.

I grab Bagels as Dad opens the front door. He squirms. Bagels, not Dad. Dad steps outside. He opens the umbrella. The wind blows it inside out, and Dad falls into a big mud puddle outside the door.

He gets up, then falls down a second time.

The third time he says, “There’s no one out here. May I come in now?” He doesn’t sound happy. Mom says he can come in.

Dad has a hot shower. “At least something’s working,” says Mom.

I’ve put Bagels down on the floor. He goes back to running and backflipping from door to door. We leave him to it. Becky and I sit under the picnic umbrella, playing Snakes and Ladders. We’re starting to think this is kind of an adventure.

Dad comes back wearing a tracksuit.

“How are we going to sleep when the roof ’s leaking?” he asks.

“I almost forgot,” I say. I rush to my room. I head for the big duffel bag.

A minute later I’m back in the living room with two tents.

Becky shrieks. “We’re going camping after all.”

Dad shakes his head. “Those tents won’t stand up to that wind.”

“We can pitch the tents in here, Dad.”

I press a button on each tent. They pop open like giant umbrellas.

“The kid is a genius,” says Dad. I blush. Mom brings in spare blankets and pillows.

Dad and I are in one tent. Mom and Becky are in the other tent. Bagels stops running around. The imaginary bear must have gone.

I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.