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  She said, “Yeah, I was there. You looked like you might throw up and then you yelled at the top of your lungs and then Doyle Baker fell from the sky and crashed to the ground.”

  I said, “But I think I knew it was about to happen. You know how I asked you if you ever have a feeling like you’re waiting for something?”

  She said, “Yeah, like when we wait for Christmas?”

  I said, “Yes, but it feels more like waiting for something to happen. I just don’t know what or when. But just now when we were in the woods I started feeling funny and I closed my eyes for just a second and I had a vision of Doyle Baker falling from that tree and hitting the ground. That’s why I yelled like I did.”

  Sally just stared at me for a long time. Then she walked over to our swings and sat down and started swinging. I joined her.

  We were swinging in silence for a minute when Sally said, “Well, I think we all knew something bad was going to happen when they tied that rope to the branch. Your feeling was probably what we were all feeling. It was dangerous and someone could get hurt and they did.”

  I was hoping Sally was right, but I knew there was more to it. I had a feeling that something was about to happen—and then I saw it happen before it did.

  Sally was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “Or I guess there’s always the chance you can see into the future.”

  I started laughing, nervously, because I was just thinking the same thing and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  Sally said, “Why does all the cool stuff always happen to you?”

  We both laughed and then we jumped off our swings and headed home for dinner.

  When I was washing up for dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Sally had said in the park about me being able to see into the future. That seemed to be exactly what had happened, if you ask me. I had a vision of Doyle Baker falling out of that tree just seconds before it really happened.

  Chapter 5

  BOUNCY PONY RIDE

  When I walked into the kitchen, dinner was already on the table and I heard Mama say, “I’m sure it’s going to be fine, Jim, they seem real nice.”

  Daddy said, “Patsy, you think everybody is nice and maybe they are, but right this minute I don’t like ’em!”

  As I sat down at the table Mama said, “Okay, suit yourself, you big ole baby,” and hit Daddy over the head with a dish rag. He didn’t look up, but I could see he was trying not to smile.

  Even so, I could tell Daddy was grumpy by the way he was acting. After we said the blessing, I asked Daddy how his day was.

  He answered, “Well, Birdie Mae, let me tell you how my day was. It turns out our new neighbors down the street, the Doolittles, just bought the other grocery store in town. And this weekend, all weekend long, they’re having a—a big—well, I guess a big grocery store party is what you’d call it!”

  For as long as I can remember there’s ever only been two grocery stores in town. One that’s been closed for years and then the one that Daddy owns. So basically, Daddy’s store was the only grocery store around until now.

  “What’s a grocery store party?” I asked.

  He answered, “That’s a good question, because grocery stores are for buying groceries, not for parties with face painting and bouncy houses and pony rides!”

  I guess that got Bubba’s attention. He was sitting in his booster seat pretending that his fish stick was a rocket blasting off when he heard Daddy say “bouncy houses and pony rides.”

  Bubba started chanting “I go bouncy pony ride, I go bouncy pony ride,” over and over again as he was making a long piece of asparagus bounce around his plate.

  I think we all looked over at him so quickly because we could actually understand what he was saying. Usually he has his pacifier in his mouth but it was lying beside his plate and he had a big smile on his face, still chanting “I go bouncy pony ride,” and then he made his asparagus rear up like a horse and said “Neigh . . . neigh . . . whoa bouncy pony ride!”

  Daddy stood up and said, “Well that’s just great, now Bubba wants to go to the grocery store party. The next thing you know the whole town will be there going ‘bouncy pony ride’ and buying all of their groceries from there too!”

  I didn’t think now was the best time to tell Daddy I had met Peter Doolittle Jr. Daddy took his plate into the kitchen and mumbled something about working in the garage for a little while.

  We heard the garage door open and close, and Mama said, “Birdie Mae, what you just witnessed is what it looks like for a thirty-eight-year-old man to have a temper tantrum like a baby.”

  Bubba then changed his chant from “I go bouncy pony ride” to “Daddy baby, Daddy baby!” Mama and I laughed, and then he grabbed three pieces of asparagus and stuffed them all in his mouth at once.

  I told Mama, “I met Peter Doolittle Jr. today and he’s really nice, and maybe Daddy will like Mr. Doolittle, once he gets to know him. Maybe they’ll be friends and they can do fun grocery store stuff together!”

  Mama smiled and said, “Well, I took some cookies over to the Doolittle’s today and met Mrs. Doolittle, and we got along just fine, too. We were a little nervous about meeting each other with the whole grocery store situation. I told her that your daddy is stubborn as a mule and as competitive as they come. Unfortunately, she said Mr. Doolittle is exactly the same way.”

  Mama told me how nice Mrs. Doolittle is and that they have a little girl the same age as Bubba named Isabella, they call her Izzy. She said Bubba and Izzy really hit it off.

  Mama said, just loud enough to get Bubba’s attention, “Izzy doesn’t take a pacifier, she never did, and she stopped taking a baby bottle about a year ago. I’m hoping Bubba will decide he doesn’t need a pacey or a bottle since Izzy doesn’t need one.”

  Bubba stared at her for a few seconds and slowly reached over and grabbed his pacifier and put it in his lap and then went back to shoving more food in his mouth.

  Then she told me about how Izzy drinks out of a sippy cup and how Bubba tried to do the same thing today, only it wasn’t a sippy cup, it was Mama’s cup of iced tea, and he poured it all down the front of his shirt. Izzy thought it was hilarious and we know how Bubba likes to make people laugh so Mama and Mrs. Doolittle had to go around and make sure there weren’t any other cups sitting around that he could pour all over himself.

  Mama also said that the Doolittles were having a Halloween party at their house next Friday so they could get to know some of their new neighbors.

  Then Mama looked at me for a few seconds and reached over and put the back of her hand to my forehead.

  She asked, “Are you feeling all right? You look a little tired.”

  I was just about to tell her everything that had happened that day when the phone rang and she got up to answer it.

  Chapter 6

  CALL FROM MRS. BAKER

  When Mama answered the phone I could hear bits and pieces of her conversation.

  I heard her say, “Oh my, is he all right?”

  I quietly inched my way closer to the hall, so I could hear a little better.

  There was a long pause and then Mama said, “Yes, Mrs. Baker, I completely understand. Now let me see if I’ve got this straight. Your son, Doyle, was about to swing like Tarzan from a rope that was tied to a branch at the top of that old rickety tree house, when Birdie Mae saw him and tried to stop him? But then Doyle decided to do it anyway, and that’s when he fell and broke his foot?”

  I covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t laugh out loud. Then I heard Mama say, “No, not at all, thank you, Mrs. Baker, and I do hope Doyle gets his cast off real soon, bless his heart.” And then she hung up the phone.

  I tiptoed back over to the sink with a smile on my face, wondering if Mrs. Baker was still standing there in shock with the phone in her hand. When Mama came back into the kitchen I couldn’t help but look at her with wide eyes. She walked over and took the plate I was holding out of my hand and started drying it.
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  She said, “If we hurry up with the dishes I think we can catch the end of Wheel of Fortune.”

  I stood there for a minute, waiting for Mama to ask me about Doyle Baker, but she never did.

  Finally, I said, “Mama, do you ever get a feeling like something is about to happen before it happens?”

  Mama looked over at me with a curious expression and was about to say something when Bubba ran into the kitchen, naked as a jaybird, with a pacey in his mouth and two in each hand. I scooped him up and he started giggling and squirming.

  I walked into the living room and put him down. He looked at me with a sneaky little grin and slowly turned his back to me. Then he stuck his bottom out toward me and let out a long toot and ran down the hall toward his room giggling his little head off.

  “Mama, Bubba tooted at me again!” I cried.

  “Well, Birdie Mae, he is a boy, and he’s only two years old. It’s probably just a phase, and he’ll grow out of it. Why don’t you go ahead and turn on the Wheel?”

  Chapter 7

  FLYING TATER TOTS

  On Monday morning when Daddy was leaving for work, Mama said, “Oh, Friday night the Doolittles are having a Halloween party and I said we’d go—it starts at seven o’clock, right after trick or treating.”

  Daddy stopped walking and just stood there facing the door with his back to us. He didn’t turn around; he just stood there staring at the door. I guess Mama and I had both been holding our breath because when Daddy opened the door and said, “Okey dokey, I’ll see everyone this afternoon,” and closed it, Mama and I both let out a breath. She said, “Well, that went better than I expected!”

  At school, everyone was talking about the Doolittles’ party on Friday night, even Virginia Flanker and Doyle Baker. I wasn’t thrilled that they would be there, but at least we’d all be dressed up in costumes, so maybe I wouldn’t recognize them.

  During lunch, Peter, Sally, and I were sitting at a table talking about the party when a tater tot came out of nowhere and landed right on top of my pudding.

  We all turned around and there was Doyle Baker sitting next to Billy Simmons, stacking tater tots on top of Billy’s book and wearing Billy’s glasses. Billy Simmons is quiet and sweet and would never hurt a fly. We’ve been in the same class since kindergarten and he’s shy at first, but when you get to know him he’s really funny and definitely the smartest kid in school. There he was just sitting there, not doing or saying anything, just minding his own business.

  Doyle picked up another tater tot and threw it across the room at another table. Doyle just laughed and said “Two points” when the tater tot bounced off a first grader’s head and into his lunch box.

  Everyone just stared at him.

  Before I knew what was happening, Peter was out of his seat and standing over Doyle like a red-headed giant.

  Doyle had a cast on his foot but he stood up and took two wobbly steps toward Peter until he was just a few inches from his face.

  The next thing you know, about a dozen kids are standing around us.

  Peter said, “Doyle, I’ve only been here for a week, and all I’ve seen you do is bully people. Give Billy his glasses back.”

  Doyle said those two words; those dreaded two words that I think we all knew he’d say.

  “MAKE ME!”

  It’s too bad I couldn’t make myself have another vision about Doyle Baker because I really wanted to know if we should get out of the way or not.

  Peter was quiet for a second. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do next.

  I felt bad for Peter so I stood up and said, “Doyle, you better listen to him because Sally’s mama told my mama that Peter got kicked out of his last school for beating up a kid who was bullying another kid. Yep, and she hopes it doesn’t happen again but she’s afraid it might, because Peter has such a bad temper.”

  Peter and Doyle were both looking at me and Peter opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then he closed it and looked down at Doyle and said, “And after you give Billy his glasses back you can start cleaning up those tater tots too!”

  They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds. Peter seemed to get even taller and Doyle seemed to get smaller. Then, of all things, Billy Simmons stood up on his chair and reached over and took his glasses off of Doyle’s face and then sat back down. Doyle looked around, and then he turned to walk out, but before he did he swiped the tater tots off of Billy’s book right onto the cafeteria floor.

  This was not Doyle’s lucky day, because just as the last tater tot hit the floor, Mrs. Crumbly was standing right next to him.

  She barked, “What in the world is going on here? Have you all lost your minds? You are acting like a bunch of circus clowns. And Doyle Baker, I’ll let you pick the tater tots up before you go visit the principal’s office. And while you’re having a nice long visit with Mr. Green, I’ll find out just how much help these nice people who work in the cafeteria could use. I’ll make sure to have a long list of things for you to do every day after school for the next two weeks. And I believe I heard Miss Percy mention a lost retainer, so grab some gloves on your way back from Mr. Green’s office. Now everyone get back in your seats and finish your lunch. You’ve got five minutes until the bell!”

  Everyone scattered, and Doyle just stood there. For a second it looked like he and Mrs. Crumbly were having a staring contest. If they were, then Mrs. Crumbly won because Doyle started hopping around like a one-legged bunny picking up tater tots.

  Sally, Peter, and I sat back down at our table and Billy picked up his tray and his book and came over and sat down with us.

  Billy said, “Thanks, no one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”

  “It’s no big deal. Somebody should have stood up to him a long time ago,” Peter said.

  Then Sally blurted out, “Is that really why you moved here? Because you beat up a kid and they kicked you out of school?”

  Peter and I started laughing and Billy and Sally just looked at us.

  Peter said, “No, but it sounded pretty good, didn’t it? I’m glad Birdie Mae could think of something to say because I sure couldn’t. I’ve never been in a fight and I don’t plan on being in one, but Doyle Baker doesn’t have to know that.”

  We all laughed, and I knew from that moment on, the four of us were going to be thick as thieves, whatever that means. I heard Mama say it once about her and her friends from high school, so I guess it means best friends or something like that? Hopefully that’s what it means and it doesn’t mean we’re going to go around stealing stuff.

  Later that night, Daddy built a bonfire in our fire pit behind the house and we had a marshmallow roast and made s’mores with the neighbors. Everybody gets into the spirit of things around Halloween.

  After we were stuffed with roasted marshmallows and tucked into bed, I still couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Doyle Baker fall out of that tree. It had to just be a coincidence. It was silly to think it was anything different.

  Chapter 8

  THE FIRE

  That night, I tossed and turned and dreamed about a fire in my backyard. In the dream, there was so much smoke, and I could just see the flicker of flames inching closer to the back of the house.

  Suddenly, I was wide awake, and I had a strong feeling that something was about to happen—but this time, I was also afraid. And my feeling was worse than before—more urgent—and I honestly felt like I could throw up at any moment. Then, in my mind, I saw another vision: I saw my backyard on fire, just like in my dream. I jumped out of bed and ran to my parents’ room.

  “Daddy, Daddy!” I said, shaking his shoulder and trying to wake him. “DADDY!” I yelled. He sat up with a jolt and so did Mama.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I think the backyard is on fire! I have a bad feeling that the backyard is on fire, and I had a dream that the backyard is on fire so I think you should check on it now!” I cried.


  Daddy sighed. “Birdie, it was just a bad dream, now go on back to bed.”

  Mama looked at me with a strange expression and then back at Daddy and said, “Jim, go check the backyard.”

  “But Patsy . . .” he grumbled.

  Mama raised her voice just a little and said, “Jim, please go check the backyard now!”

  Just then, we heard the wind whirling outside like a storm was coming, and Daddy got out of bed and walked to the back window. He looked out into the backyard and started mumbling something about marshmallows while he ran over to the side of the bed to put his slippers on.

  I thought, why in the world is Daddy thinking about marshmallows at a time like this? Then it hit me—we roasted marshmallows earlier in the fire pit in the backyard!

  I ran over to the window just in time to see a small fire flaring up in the grass next to the turned-over fire pit.

  Daddy said, “Patsy, there’s a fire in the backyard near the house! Get Bubba, and you three go out the front door until I tell you it’s safe to come back inside.”

  I said, “Daddy, be careful and if things get out of control don’t forget to stop, drop, and roll!” Even though I was scared, I was still pretty proud of myself for remembering what they taught us in school about what to do in a fire.

  We did as Daddy said. Mama grabbed Bubba up out of his bed, and he just kept on sleeping on her shoulder. When we’d been outside for only about two minutes, Daddy came around to the front of the house and said, “Everything’s fine now. It looks like I didn’t put out all of the embers in the fire pit after we roasted marshmallows earlier, and the wind turned it over. It’s been just dry enough around here to catch the grass on fire.”

  Daddy looked at me and asked, “Birdie Mae, how did you know about the fire? Did you smell smoke? Did you look out the window?”