Authors: Zilpha Keatley Snyder
They were all close together now. Ari could hear heavy breathing all around him, and now and then, from directly behind, the slurping noise that Lump made when he licked his slobbery jowls. And then, from somewhere up ahead, there was a different sound. A harsh, rasping, metallic noise.
“There!” It was Aurora’s voice. “Hear it? They’re trying to get the lid off the tank.”
And then Bucky’s voice. “Okay, spread out, everybody. You two go that way, and you two over there.”
Footsteps moved away but Ari stayed where he was, not far from the black van. He knew Susie was still there. Susie and Lump, too, because he could hear Lump’s snuffling. But no one else. Just the two of them and Lump. Then suddenly Aurora was back beside him. “Here,” she whispered, “hold this. I can’t shoot the marbles and hold this.” She pressed something into Ari’s hands and then moved away again into the darkness.
For a moment Ari didn’t know what he was holding, but just for a very short moment. Then his nose got the message. His nose and, obviously, Lump’s too. Lump crowded closer, snuffling and slobbering. Ari tried lifting the bag of rotten fish up out of reach but Lump was too tall. Ari backed away, holding the bag up as high as he could—right into the side of the black van.
Suddenly he snickered—and tried the door. Yes, it was unlocked. Holding his breath, he opened the van’s door very carefully and dumped the horrible, slimy, smelly contents of the paper bag right onto the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing, Ari?” Susie whispered. “And what’s that awful smell?”
Ari was about to tell her, when the noises began. A short, sharp whistle first and then a rattling sound, like hail on a tin roof. Or like marbles hitting a metal water tank. Then there was a yell, another rattling volley, a louder yell, a metallic clatter, and then a heavy thud. Ari grabbed Susie and pulled her and Lump away, back among the tree trunks.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Get away from the van.”
But suddenly Susie jerked free and lunged forward. “Hey, he got away,” she whispered urgently. “Lump got away.” She started forward, but just at that moment two men appeared out of the darkness. Two men who were running toward the van. The short one carried a powerful flashlight and the tall one carried a big bag—and had a bad limp. And then, as Ari and Susie watched, Lump galloped into the beam of the flashlight. All 185 pounds of tail-wagging, ear-flopping Saint Bernard galloped into the beam of light and right into the tall guy with the bag. The man fell on his back screaming like crazy, and Lump fell right on top of him. The short, round-headed man with the flashlight stopped, looked back, and then went right on running. When he reached the van he jerked open the door, leaped in—and leaped right back out again. By the time he finished clawing frantically at the van’s front seat and then at the seat of his pants, the other man was on his feet staggering toward him.
Ari was having a hard time trying to hang onto Susie to keep her from running out after Lump.
“Let me go,” Susie said. “I have to get Lump. I have to—”
But just at that moment the van’s headlights went on, its motor came to life, and it roared away backward down the driveway. Susie stopped struggling and allowed herself to be pulled into the shadows. And a moment later Lump was back beside them, wagging his tail and whining happily.
Susie threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Lump,” she said. “You bad, bad dog.”
“Don’t worry,” Ari told her. “He didn’t hurt that guy. He only knocked him down and just about kissed him to death. Like he does everybody.”
“I know,” Susie said. “But that’s all he did to the mailman and we nearly got sued.”
He was still trying to explain why he didn’t think anybody was going to get sued this time, when suddenly Aurora was back, standing right beside him. And Ari had something else to explain. Like what had happened to the fertilizer for Mrs. A.’s African violets.
The others came back then, appearing suddenly from the deep shadows beneath the trees. Kate and Bucky and Carlos and Eddy, and finally Web. When they were all there Kate said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
And Bucky said, “Yeah, let’s split.”
So they started back down the driveway with everyone talking at once, asking each other what they had seen and what they had done, and wondering what would happen next. They were out on the sidewalk and almost to Dragoland when Bucky said, “Well, anyway, you dudes, remember to keep your mouths shut at least for a while.”
And Kate added, “Yes. At least until we find out whether we’re going to get medals or get thrown in jail. Like—what if it turns out those guys were really supposed to be there and? …”
But just at that very moment a flashlight went on, right in their faces, and Muffy Brockhurst stepped out of the bushes. Athena Pappas was with her—and they were both really mad.
“You didn’t take me along,” Athena said angrily. “It’s not fair not to take the president.”
All Muffy said was, “I’m going to tell.” And she did.
By the time Muffy Brockhurst, world-class rat fink, had gotten through talking, all of their parents knew. Someone called the Andersons in Tahoe, and someone else called the police.
T
HREE DAYS LATER THERE
was a meeting in the big old-fashioned living room at the Andersons’ and, except for Mrs. A., who was still in Tahoe, everyone was there. Not only the members of the A.T. Club, but everyone else who lived in Castle Court. By that time, Saturday afternoon, everybody knew nearly everything about what had happened on the Andersons’ back lot on Wednesday night, and most of the kids had started their punishments for not getting permission to sneak out to attack terrorists, late at night, on somebody else’s property. Bucky Brockhurst was grounded again, and the Wongs and Garcias and Kate Nicely had all lost different amounts of allowance.
The Pappas kids never got regular allowances and Nick and Diane weren’t into grounding, so they hadn’t been punished, but Ari kept feeling like he had been. Ari felt like he was being punished, because none of the grown-ups would answer his questions. Not even grown-ups like Mr. A., who obviously had all the answers by now. What Ari desperately wanted to know was who the two guys in the van were, and what they were doing that night at the Andersons’, and why.
So, as soon as everyone had found a place to sit down, that’s exactly what Ari asked Mr. A. to explain.
“I’m glad you asked that question, Ari,” Mr. A. said. “Because that’s what I’ve been investigating since I got home, and now I think I can give you the answers.”
So Mr. A. started telling everyone about how a big development company had been after him for a long time to sell them all the land above the cul-de-sac on Castle Hill.
“They wanted to put in two streets and at least a dozen houses,” Mr. A. said. “I thought it was a bad idea so I kept saying no.” He went on then for a long time telling about why he thought it was a bad idea. All about how the hillside was too steep and the soil was too unstable, and a lot of other stuff about ecology and open space and how it wouldn’t be fair to the people who already lived in Castle Court.
Ari didn’t have anything against ecology but he kept wishing Mr. A. would hurry up and get to the good part. The part about the two guys and the water tank. Looking around at all the other kids who had been there, he could tell that they were feeling antsy too. So he stood up and raised his hand.
Mr. A. smiled at him and said, “Yes, yes, Ari. I’m getting to it. Just a bit more about the background.” The next part of the background was about the Andersons’ well and the city water supply.
According to Mr. A., the famous old Anderson well (Ari hadn’t known it was famous but he was willing to take Mr. A.’s word for it) had supplied the whole farm in the old days and now supplied the water for all the houses in Castle Court. Which had made it unnecessary for Mr. A. to hook up with the city water system. Which would have been very expensive.
“So expensive,” Mr. A. said with a funny smile, “that somebody must have figured that if something happened to the well, I’d have to give in and sell some more property to pay for a new water supply.”
“Oh, I get it,” Bucky said. “So they hired those goons to come out here and poison our well.”
Mr. A. laughed. “Well, not exactly poison, but something pretty close to it. When those two …” He grinned at Bucky and went on. “When those two goons left in such a hurry they left behind a lot of evidence as to just what they were trying to do. They had several big jugs of additives that would have given the water a bad taste, and then when I had it tested, would make it seem that residue from the old dairy farm was polluting the well.”
All around the room there were gasps and shocked-sounding comments. Kate’s mom said, “Oh for goodness sakes,” and Mr. Grant said, “My God,” and Nick said some things in Greek that it was a good thing nobody outside the Pappas family could understand. And then Bucky’s dad suggested that they should all sue the development company.
Mr. A. laughed. “Maybe we will eventually,” he said. “If the authorities can come up with some more proof.”
“Proof?” Mr. Garcia said. “I understand the police have the two thugs in custody. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“Well, yes, they’re in custody. But so far they aren’t talking. And there’s no proof, as yet, that they were connected to the development company. They were just a pair of hired hoodlums”—Mr. A. laughed—“and none too bright at that. They apparently left here pretty badly shaken up. They clipped a dump truck on Beaumont Avenue and then ran into a stop sign. They told the police they’d been shot at and attacked by wild animals. The one who fell off the tank had a sprained ankle and the driver seemed to have spilled some of his pollutants all over himself. Smelled terrible, according to the police.”
“Rotten fish!” Ari squealed before he could stop himself. And then, of course, he had to explain.
After the meeting was over Ari walked home with Aurora and Kate. Kate was going on about how Aurora’s mysterious feeling had been right again. “You’re always right,” she told Aurora. “You knew those guys were real bad news even if they weren’t exactly terrorists.”
Aurora ducked her head so her curly curtain of hair hid her face, the way she always did when anyone mentioned her mysterious feelings. But then, suddenly, she looked up. Pushing back her hair with both hands, she looked at Ari.
“You had one too?” she whispered.
“Had one what?” Ari was bewildered.
“A mysterious feeling?” Aurora nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, you did. You knew about Web’s secret weapon. Didn’t you?”
Ari gulped. He
had
come up with the secret-weapon idea but he’d thought he’d just made that up because … But he’d better not get into that. Instead he squinched up his eyes and nodded knowingly. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I did. Web really did have secret weapons, didn’t he?”
Kate laughed. “Some secret weapon,” she said. “Slingshots.”
“And Lump,” Aurora said. “Lump was kind of a secret weapon too.”
“And how about your secret weapon?” Kate said to Aurora.
“Mine?” Aurora looked puzzled.
Kate snickered. “Yeah. You know. The
fish
.”
They all laughed and then Kate and Aurora went on talking about how the A.T. Club had saved Mr. A.’s well.
But Ari had stopped talking. He was too busy thinking about the scary suspense story he was going to write. All about how some brave kids and their huge attack-trained dog wiped out a gang of dangerous terrorists. It was going to be a really gruesome story. Especially the part about the rotten fish.
Zilpha Keatley Snyder (b. 1927) is the three-time Newbery Honor–winning author of classic children’s novels such as
The Egypt Game
,
The Headless Cupid
, and
The Witches of Worm
. Her adventure and fantasy stories are beloved by many generations.
Snyder was born in Lemoore, California, in 1927. Her father, William Keatley, worked for Shell Oil, but as a would-be rancher he and his family always lived on a small farm. Snyder’s parents were both storytellers, and their tales often kept their children entertained during quiet evenings at home.
Snyder began reading and telling stories of her own at an early age. By the time she was four years old she was able to read novels and newspapers intended for adults. When she wasn’t reading, she was making up and embellishing stories. When she was eight, Snyder decided that she would be a writer—a profession in which embellishment and imagination were accepted and rewarded.
Snyder’s adolescent years were made more difficult by her studious country upbringing and by the fact that she had been advanced a grade when she started school. As other girls were going to dances and discovering boys, Snyder retreated into books. The stories transported her from her small room to a larger, remarkable universe.
At Whittier College, Zilpha Keatley Snyder met her future husband, Larry Snyder. After graduation, she began teaching upper-level elementary classes. Snyder taught for nine years, including three years as a master teacher for the University of California, Berkeley. The classroom experience gave Snyder a fresh appreciation of the interests and capabilities of preteens.
As she continued her teaching career, Snyder gained more free time. She began writing at night, after teaching during the day; her husband helped by typing out her manuscripts. After finishing her first novel, she sent it to a publisher. It was accepted on her first try. That book,
Season of Ponies
, was published in 1964.
In 1967, her fourth novel,
The Egypt Game
, won the Newbery Honor for excellence in children’s literature. Snyder went on to win that honor two more times, for her novels
The Headless Cupid
and
The Witches of Worm. The Headless Cupid
introduced the Stanley family, a clan she revisited three more times over her career.
Snyder’s
The Changeling
(1970), in which two young girls invent a fantasy world dominated by trees, became the inspiration for her 1974 fantasy series, the Green Sky Trilogy. Snyder completed that series by writing a computer game sequel called Below the Root. The game went on to earn cult classic status.