The Runaway. Alison Hart

      

      chapter 1

      Scooter

      “FETCH, SCOOTER!” MARYELLEN Larkin tossed a chewed tennis ball across the front lawn. Scooter, the Larkin family’s aging dachshund, sat down on the grass and rolled over onto his back. “I mean, roll over,” Maryellen quickly said, snapping a rope in the air as if she were a lion tamer at the circus. Scooter yawned and wiggled his pudgy paws.

      Maryellen rolled her eyes and then bowed to a pretend audience. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the fierce Leo, the African circus lion, waving adieu.”

      Dropping the rope, she flopped on the ground beside Scooter. “You are so talented—as long as I give the command after you’ve done something,” she said with a chuckle. Maryellen loved to act out exciting scenes in which Scooter usually played an important role. He’d been rescued from pretend danger countless times, and even lassoed by the Lone Ranger (played by Maryellen). He’d been Thunderbolt, the wonder horse, and Sea Wolf, the pirate’s companion. Maryellen counted Scooter as one of her best friends.

      Smiling up at the clouds, she scratched the dog’s stomach. It was a chilly January afternoon in Daytona Beach, and a stiff breeze ruffled the broad leaves of the palm trees on her street, but the sun was warm. Scooter loved tummy scratches, and he sighed and waved his paws again, this time at a man in a uniform striding down the sidewalk.

      Maryellen popped up. “Hello, Mr. Beamer. Any mail?”

      “Yes sirreee!” The postman held up a handful of envelopes. “And I believe there’s one in the stack you’ve been waiting for.”

      Maryellen jumped to her feet. “Oooh—one of our contest entries?”

      “Might be.” He handed her the envelopes.

      She quickly leafed through them. Whoo-wee— one was from General Mills, the cereal company! Maryellen’s heart beat a little faster. She and her mom had been entering contests for weeks. She was especially proud of one cereal jingle they’d thought up: “Kids eat Wheaties for a breakfast treatie!”

      At first, she and her mother had entered one contest for fun. They’d enjoyed thinking up clever rhymes for the product so much that they’d entered as many contests as they could find. “This is exercise for my brain,” Mrs. Larkin had said laughingly. The prizes were pretty exciting, too, even if they hadn’t won anything yet.

      Some of the contests, like “Win a Schwinn!,” were advertised in magazines. Others, like “Win a trip to New York” on Scooter’s bag of Chow-Chow Dog Food, had directions and forms on the back of the product. To enter the Wheaties contest, Mrs. Larkin had bought boxes and boxes of the cereal and cut out the entry blanks, which they’d sent in with their jingles. Maryellen thought it was pretty smart for the companies to hold the contests, because people had to buy more products just to get the entry forms. She had forgotten how many contests they’d entered, but she was sure that this time they had won.

      “Thank you, Mr. Beamer! Come on, Scooter.” She dashed onto the front steps and held open the screen door. The dachshund waddled in ahead of her and plopped on the living room rug near the spot where Beverly, Tom, and Mikey, Maryellen’s younger sister and two younger brothers, sat playing Chinese checkers.

      “Mom!” Maryellen hollered as the door slammed behind her. “We got a letter from the cereal contest. I think we won!” Waving the envelopes in the air, she ran through the living room, but before she reached the kitchen, her toe caught on a lump. Oof. She and the letters went flying.

      Her mom stuck her head around the doorway from the kitchen in time to see Maryellen splat on the carpet. A splash of flour dotted Mrs. Larkin’s nose. “Are you okay, Ellie?”

      Beverly, Tom, and Mikey all giggled when they saw their sister sprawled on the floor. “Mawyellen twipped,” Mikey said.

      “Over Scooter!” seven-year-old Beverly exclaimed, pointing to the reddish-brown lump that hadn’t budged.

      “Scooter!” Maryellen scolded as she got up. He woke with a snort and wagged his tail. “Why don’t you go outside again? It’s nice and sunny.” She shooed him out the door and then gathered up the envelopes. “Look, Mom, one is from General Mills!”

      “Oooh, do you think we won?” Beverly asked as she jumped to her feet, scattering marbles from the game.

      “You mean do you think Mom and I won,” Maryellen said. “Of course we did—a new freezer!”

      “Yippee!” Five-year-old Tom cheered and scratched his elbow at the same time. Both he and Mikey were getting over the chicken pox. Their faces and arms were splattered with dried spots, and they itched everywhere. “We can fill it with ice cream.”

      “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Mrs. Larkin bustled into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron. Gingerly she took the General Mills envelope while Maryellen and her siblings gathered around.

      Maryellen held her breath as her mom tore the envelope open, then bounced from foot to foot as her mother pulled out the letter and unfolded it.

      “We are happy to inform you that you won…” Mrs. Larkin began.

      Maryellen leaped in the air like a cheerleader. “We won! We won!” Mikey, Tom, and Beverly danced around echoing her, “We won! We won!”

      “…a year’s supply of Wheaties cereal.”

      Maryellen’s cheer died.

      Smiling, Mrs. Larkin refolded the letter. “Well, I’m glad you four love Wheaties. We’ll be eating it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” She sighed. “Too bad we didn’t win the freezer; it would have been nice to fill with food to feed this big family.”

      “I love Wheaties,” Mikey said solemnly. He was three and the only one not in school yet.

      “And they have neato masks on the box that you can cut out,” Tom added.

      Beverly gave Maryellen a hug. “Don’t be sad. You can have the cat mask.”

      The three went back to their game as if nothing had happened. Maryellen let out a huge sigh; she’d so wanted to win. Not only would the Larkins have gotten a freezer, but her jingle would have been on TV.

      She could see herself now—dressed up in her poodle skirt accepting the grand prize. She would scream and cry tears of joy like the winners on television game shows.

      “Cheer up, Ellie.” Mom chucked her under the chin. “This is the first time we’ve won anything since we’ve been entering.” Bending, she whispered, “That means we’re getting closer to first prize.”

      “You’re right.” Maryellen followed her mom into the kitchen. “I’d rather win a new bicycle than a freezer anyway.”

      Maryellen’s bike was a hand-me-down from her oldest sister, Joan, who had handed it down to her next-oldest sister, Carolyn. The handlebars were rusty, the bell didn’t ring, and there was no kickstand.

      “I know Santa didn’t bring you one for Christmas,” her mother said, reaching for the tin canister of flour, “but maybe our clever jingle will.”

       Flying fast on your bike,

       Windswept green flashing by,

       Summer clouds in the sky,

       Schwinn Starlet—Queen of the Road!

      Maryellen and her mom sang their jingle together. They’d used the bike’s colors in their entry, which was sure to get the judges’ attention.

      “We should hear from Schwinn any day now,” Mrs. Larkin said. “In the meantime, we still have Chow-Chow Dog Food to hear from and more contests to enter.” She held up forms they’d cut off the back of Jell-O