Pig City (11 page)

Allison and Tiffany laughed.

Gabriel stared at Laura.

“Okay,” she agreed. “But no tricks.”

“No tricks,” he promised.

She kept her hand on her cap.

They walked outside to an open area, where Tiffany and Allison could watch but couldn't hear. “What?” she asked.

“I think we should make some rules,” said Gabriel.

“Rules?” questioned Laura. “All's fair in –” She stopped herself just in time. The expression was “All's fair in love and war.” “What kind of rules?” she asked.

“Mr. Doyle's getting mad,” said Gabriel. “If we're not careful, we'll all get kicked out of school. I think we should work out a truce. We could take turns writing on the board instead of risking our lives sneaking in after each other. You have Monday, I have Tuesday, you have Wednesday …”

“I'm not afraid of Mr. Doyle,” said Laura.

“The whole class got in trouble today,” said Gabriel. “Not just us. I don't think that's fair.”

Laura felt bad about that, too. “How do I know I can trust you?” she asked.

“Trust
me
?” Gabriel asked, pointing to himself. “I'm the one who's taking a chance trusting you!”

“What's that's supposed to mean?” Laura demanded.

Gabriel backed off. “Sorry,” he said. “We'll just have to trust each other.”

“How do I know it's not another one of your tricks?” she asked.

“I said, you can trust me. Look, just because you always lie, that doesn't mean everybody else does.”

“What? I never lie!”

“Oh, yeah, right!”

“You're unbelievable,” said Laura. She turned her
back on him, swishing her hair behind her.

“Laura, look out!” shouted Allison.

She instinctively covered her hat with her hand and crouched down to her knees.

Howard charged into and fell over her.

The members of Pig City rushed to her.

“I'm okay,” she told them, getting up. She looked at Howard still on the ground, then at Gabriel. “Oh, yeah, I can trust you, can't I?”

“What are you, a Girl Scout?” he asked.

“I just missed it, Gabe,” said Howard.

Laura led Pig City away. Behind them, Monkey Town sang:

“
Monkey Town, Monkey Town
…”

“Monkeys are mustard!” Aaron turned and shouted.

Laura covered her ears and hummed until they were far enough away. “We need a song!” she declared.

They all agreed.

“‘The Pig City National Anthem,'” said Nathan.

They decided that Kristin should write it, since she was the best writer.

“Do you think you can have it by tomorrow?” Laura asked her.

“I guess so,” said Kristin.

“Good. Tomorrow we all meet in the Dog House,” said Laura. “And I want everybody to bring mustard,”
she added. “Lots of it. As much mustard as you can get your hands on.”

Nathan looked at his hands. “That will be kind of messy, won't it?”

Laura opened the refrigerator door.

“Can I make you something?” asked her mother.

Laura pulled out a jar of mustard. “Is this all the mustard we have?” she asked. The large jar was more than half full.

Her mother laughed. “How much do you need?”

“A bunch of kids are coming over,” Laura explained.

“Well, I think that should be enough,” said her mother. “Now what do you want
with
your mustard? I can put some corn dogs in the microwave.”

“Nothing, just mustard,” said Laura. She took it to the back door. “I'll be in the Dog House.”

“Laura!” said her mother.

“What?”

Her mother stared at her a moment then shook her head. “Nothing.” She shrugged. “When I was a girl I used to eat peanut butter straight from the jar.”

“How gross!” said Laura. She opened the back door.

“On your way, if you don't mind, would you move the sprinkler to over by the rosebushes? Thank you.”

The lawn sprinkler was in the middle of the yard, spewing water in all directions. Laura set the jar down, then reached behind a shrub and turned off the water. She moved the sprinkler next to the three yellow rosebushes at the side of the yard. She turned the water back on, then took her mustard to the Dog House. There's a lot more you can do with mustard, she thought, besides put it on a corn dog!

Within a half hour everyone arrived – with mustard.

“We had four different kinds,” said Aaron. “This one's French mustard; this one has brown sugar and horseradish …”

“Yuck-ola,” said Allison.

“This one's got wine and garlic,” Aaron continued, “and this one has dill.” He passed his unusual mustard around for the others to smell.

“Your mother's crazy,” said Debbie. “No offense.”

“Now what'd she do?” asked Laura.

“She told me that next time, I didn't have to bring my own mustard. She said she had plenty of mustard here,
all I could eat
. What does she think I'm going to do? Eat this stuff right out of the jar?”

“She told me the same thing,” said Nathan.

“She eats peanut butter out of the jar, too,” said Laura.

All the mustard was set down on the coffee table, some in jars and some in plastic bags.

“So what's the plan?” asked Debbie.

“We can rub it in their hair,” suggested Nathan.

“Stick it in their shoes!” laughed Allison.

“And their desks,” said Aaron.

“Down their pants,” said Tiffany. She lay flopped across the purple bean bag chair.

Laura sat still in the swinging chair. “We're going to
divide
and
conquer
!” she said.

Nobody looked very impressed. Laura was a little disappointed, but she knew they'd like her plan once they heard all the details.

“Okay. First, we have to learn our song,” she said. “Do you have it, Kristin?”

Kristin nodded. She was so nervous, she hadn't said a word since she arrived.

“Well, let's hear it!” said Tiffany.

Kristin stood next to the television. “See, since it's our national anthem, I wanted to make it sound patriotic.”

“That's good!” said Nathan.

“So, it's the same tune as ‘Yankee Doodle.'” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and sang:

“
Laura Sibbie went to class.

Her hair was long and pretty.

Stuck a feather in her cap,

And called it Pig City!”

She smiled, then took another breath.

“
Pig City is the best!

Monkey Town is mustard!

They're uglier than Mr. West,

And mushier than custard!”

She blushed. “That's it.”

Everyone clapped their hands.

“That's great, Kristin!” said Nathan.

“It's a lot better than the Monkey Town song!” said Allison.

“It's the best song I ever heard,” said Aaron.

Kristin beamed.

Wait till Gabriel hears that! thought Laura.

“Who's Mr. West?” asked Tiffany.

“Who?” asked Aaron.

“She sang they were uglier than Mr. West,” said Tiffany. “So, who's Mr. West?”

“Oh,” said Kristin.

“Who is he?” asked Debbie.

“I don't know,” Kristin admitted. “I couldn't think of anything else to rhyme with ‘best.' Do you think it matters?”

“No, there's probably a Mr. West somewhere who's ugly,” said Nathan.

“That's what I thought,” said Kristin.

“It's a common last name,” Tiffany agreed.

They all agreed it didn't matter. They memorized the words, then rehearsed it until they could sing it perfectly. Every time they finished, somebody would shout, “One more time!”

“
Laura Sibbie went to class.

Her hair was long and pretty.

Stuck a –”

The door burst open.

“Now!” Gabriel hollered. He was standing in the doorway without a shirt. In his hands he held the lawn sprinkler, turned off and pointed away from him. The water shot out. “All the way!” he yelled.

The members of Pig City scrambled over each other and onto the bed against the wall. It was safe there. The water didn't quite reach that far and the hose was stretched as far as it would go. Gabriel was the only one who got wet.

In the backyard, Monkey Town sang:

“
Monkey Town! (clap-clap)

Monkey Town! (clap-clap)

We're the greatest club around! (clap-clap)

Chicken Pigs! (clap-clap)

Chicken Pigs! (clap-clap)

They lay eggs and suck on figs!”

Gabriel set the sprinkler down just inside the clubhouse door, then jumped back, out of the spray of the water. “Let's go!” he shouted.

The singing stopped.

Pig City were huddled together on the bed. “Somebody get that thing out of here!” shouted Laura.

She was against the wall, behind Kristin, who was behind Aaron. Nathan was on one side of her and Allison on the other. For the most part, everyone was dry. Only an occasional drop of water reached the bed, but the Dog House was being drenched.

Nobody moved.

“Help! Help!” called Allison and Aaron.

“Shut up!” said Laura. “Monkey Town might still be out there. Do you want them to hear you?”

During the stampede to the bed, someone had kicked over the coffee table, and the mustard fell to
the floor. Jars broke and plastic bags opened.

Mustard water with horseradish, brown sugar, garlic, wine, dill, and whatever else oozed across the floor.

“Aaron!” Laura shouted. “You're closest!”

“My clothes will be ruined,” he said. “I have to walk home. You live here. You can change into dry clothes.”

“I can't move!” said Laura. “I'm stuck behind Kristin.”

“And I'm stuck behind Aaron!” said Kristin.

Drops splattered the yellow floor.

“Look out, I'm coming through!” said Laura. She pushed into Kristin.

Aaron, Kristin, and Tiffany got tangled together and all three fell into the yellow swamp as Laura jumped off the bed. She ran headfirst into the thick spray. She picked up the sprinkler and hurled it away.

Monkey Town was gone.

She walked to the back door and turned off the water.

The citizens of Pig City dripped out of the Dog House, one at a time.

Laura sadly shook her head. She felt ashamed. The clubhouse had practically been destroyed. She saw Gabriel's shirt lying on the back stoop. She realized he
must have taken it off so it wouldn't get wet, then forgot it. She stepped on it.

“Now what are we going to do?” asked Kristin.

“We have no choice,” said Laura. “We have to surrender.” She took off her wet cap.

There was no school Monday because it was Memorial Day. On Tuesday when Laura came to school, she didn't write on the blackboard. That wasn't the kind of thing a person who was about to surrender would do. She just walked into class along with everyone else. She held her hat in her hand.

PIGS ARE ALL WET was written on the blackboard. Mr. Doyle erased it, then put the number 15 next to the rectangle. He told the class to pass their homework forward.

Laura opened her notebook and took out several pieces of paper. She gave all but one to the girl in front of her.

She nervously looked over the page she kept. She had worked harder on it than she had on all her homework. She read it for the hundredth time.

Dear Jonathan
,

This is a very difficult letter for me to write. It
seems that the time has come for Pig City to surrender. It is foolish for us to fight if you're going to win in the end. We might all get kicked out of school if we're not careful. Meet me at the swings at the beginning of recess so we can discuss the terms of surrender. Come alone. As I'm sure you can understand, this must be kept confidential until all the terms are settled
.

Bravely
,

Laura Sibbie

President of Pig City

As she said, it had been a very difficult letter for her to write. She had to be careful that nothing she wrote was a lie.

Now, she had to think of a way of getting it to Jonathan. She didn't dare let Mr. Doyle see it.

“Laura, will you come here, please,” said Mr. Doyle.

Laura smiled. That was easy, she thought. She put the note in her back pocket and walked to Mr. Doyle's desk.

“You're not wearing your hat,” he said to her.

“So?”

“You've worn it every day for a month. I was just wondering –”

“There's no rule saying I have to wear my cap, is
there? Nobody else has to to wear a cap to class; why do I?”

Mr. Doyle shrugged. “You don't,” he said. “I'd gotten used to it, that's all.” He smiled. “I liked it. I apologize.”

Laura turned and walked away, swishing her hair behind her. She was glad Mr. Doyle liked her cap. On her way back to her seat, she took the note out of her back pocket and placed it in front of Jonathan, on his desk.

He quickly covered it with his notebook.

At recess, she walked out to the swing set alone. The lower grades had recess at a different time than the upper grades, so the swings were empty.

She sat on the swing in the middle and slowly swung back and forth, dragging her feet in the dirt. Her cap was on her lap.

Jonathan walked out to meet her, tall and proud.

“Thank you for coming alone,” said Laura. “This would be a lot more difficult if everyone was here clowning around.”

“I understand,” Jonathan said very seriously. Ulysses S. Grant didn't laugh at Robert E. Lee at Appomattox.