McMummy by Betsy Byars

Author:Betsy Byars [Byars, Betsy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9427-7
Publisher: Open Road

The Storm

MOZIE WAS SITTING ON the sofa with Richie on his lap. They had been like this for thirty minutes, waiting for the storm to hit. Mozie’s legs were getting numb.

“Want to lie down for a minute, Richie?”

“Noooo. Don’t put me dowwwwnnnnn!”

“But the storm’s still miles away. Listen, see, there’s the lightning, now listen to me count—one-thousand-and-one, one-thousand-and-two, one-thousand-and-three, one-thousand-and-four. Now, there’s the thunder. The storm’s four miles away.”

“Do four miles be a lot?”

“Yes.”

“It dint sound like a lot.”

“Well, it is.”

“Don’t put me dowwwnnnn!”

Mozie sighed. He realized he could never be a department-store Santa Claus—even though he had the face for it—because he could not hold children on his lap without wanting to let them slide off. “Whoops, old Santa’s so sorry. Whoops, dropped you again, did I? How ‘bout that. Old Santa’s …”

The wind was getting stronger. It was beginning to whine around the chimney. Mozie could hear the branches of the magnolia trees whipping together. An occasional limb was blown off a tree and struck the house.

Mozie said, “Richie, I have to make one very short phone call. I want to speak to my mom. She doesn’t watch TV and she may not know about this storm. I’ll leave you for one minute—here’s my watch.” He slipped off his watch. Richie took it and threw it on the floor.

With a sigh, Mozie made an effort to retrieve his watch and keep Richie from slipping off his lap.

“Richie, now listen. I’ve got to call my mom.”

“Take me with you.”

“To the phone?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just right over there. You can see me the whole time.”

“I want to go with you.”

“I don’t think I can, Richie. You’re a big boy.”

“No, I be little.”

“Why, I think you’re a big boy. I think—”

“Waahhhhhhhhh—”

“Well, maybe I can,” Mozie said. “I’ll give it a try.”

Mozie struggled to his feet, holding Richie in his arms as if he were a baby. Richie began sagging in the middle, so Mozie pushed him higher with one knee.

“This isn’t going to work. Let’s try piggyback.”

As he was helping Richie onto his back, the phone began to ring. “Oh, there’s the phone. It’s Mom!”

He hurried toward the phone sideways, like a crab, with Richie on one hip. He picked up the receiver.

“Mom!”

Batty’s voice said, “I can’t talk but a minute. This storm is coming—I just heard it on TV—with dangerous hail—hail! You know what hail can do to a greenhouse? It’s—”

“I know about the storm. I know about the hail. I thought you were going to be my mother.” With great control he stopped himself from yelling, “I want my mother!”

“Also tornadoes—which probably won’t actually happen—but hail—the TV said golf ball-sized hail to baseball-sized hail. You know what golf ball-sized hail can do to a greenhouse?”

“Yes.”

“It can shatter every pane of glass, batter every plant. Do you remember the time I hit a baseball through someone’s picture window?”

“That was our picture window.”

“Well, remember—” He broke off. “I got to go. Linda’s coming.”

The conversation ended with a bang. Mozie waited a moment and then hung up the phone.

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