Toy Dance Party (5 page)

“Fantastic!” yells the thing in the box.

Sheep pokes her nose into the bubble wrap. She begins to chew on the tape that surrounds whatever is inside.

The thing in the box holds still.

Lumphy, StingRay, and Plastic watch from the bed as Sheep chews, rhythmically.

She chews for a long time.

The thing in the box doesn’t speak.

When she is done, the one-eared sheep burps. “Tape is sweet,” she says to herself. “I wouldn’t have thought it.”

Sheep is not curious about what is in the box because she has forgotten why she began chewing. Fatigued by her efforts, she rolls away under the bed and is asleep almost before she gets there.

The toy mice are hiding and nowhere to be found. The box is still.

Lumphy is looking for his courage. He whispers to himself, “I am a toughy little buffalo. A toughy buffalo. A toughy. A buffy. A tough-a-buff.”

“You’re a what?” StingRay asks him.

“A tough-a-buff.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m tough and brave. And I’m going down to see what’s in the box. Are you coming with me?”

“I was going anyway,” StingRay lies. “I was waiting for Sheep to be finished.”

But while they’ve been discussing, up on the high bed, the plump mouse Bonkers has scooted over to the box. “It was nice to Sheep, right?” he calls to Lumphy. “So I’m going to say hello!”

“Okay,” calls Lumphy, still on the bed. “You go for it.”

Bonkers creeps to the top of the box. “Sheep is finished with your tape, I think! You can come out now.”

The cardboard box gives a tremendous whump!

And then

Grunk! Gru-GRUNK!

Grunk! Gru-GRUNK!

Out from the crunching, popping bubble wrap emerges

Plastic bounces at top speed out of Honey’s room and down the stairs. Lumphy and StingRay leap off the foot of the bed and follow. Hardly even caring if the people are home (although they are not; they have gone to Shay’s), the toys run to the kitchen—

Rumpa lumpa, rumpa lumpa.

Frrrrrr, frrrrrr.

Boing, boing, boing!

Around through the pantry,

eeeeerrrrrrr—

and down another flight of stairs.

Rumpa lumpa, rumpa lumpa.

Fwap! Gobble-a gobble-a.

Fwap! Gobble-a gobble-a.

Boing, boing, boing!

Bonk!

Into the basement, where the shark will not find them.

. . . . .

StingRay has never been in the basement before. Plastic was there once, when Honey’s mother repaired her with industrial-strength tape, and Lumphy (who gets dirty a lot) comes down often to visit Frank, the washing machine.

StingRay is almost more scared of the dusty, spidery corners of the basement than she is of the garbage-eating shark.

But not quite. The three toys skitter across the cold floor and leap into a laundry basket filled with dad-clothes. They hide under a pair of pajamas and listen for the Grunk! Gru-GRUNK!

But the basement is quiet.

And still quiet.

Until Frank talks.

“Lumphy!” he cries. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Hi, Frank.” Lumphy peeks his head out. Still no shark.

“Don’t be shy, little buffalo,” says Frank. “I can see your friends under there, and I’ve guessed your plan.”

“You have?” asks Lumphy. Because he has no plan.

“It’s a party, right?” Frank says gleefully. “That’s why you brought your little pals.”

Lumphy is so surprised he doesn’t answer.

“My first-ever party,” Frank continues. “I can’t believe you thought to surprise me. Is there gonna be cake?”

“Rarrrahh,” says the Dryer, a dusty brown contraption next to Frank.

“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Frank snaps at her. “It is
too
a party. Lumphy, you shouldn’t have. A party all for me?”

The Dryer grunts.

“It could be for you, too,” concedes Frank. “But I thought you said you didn’t think it
was
a party.”

“Roorgaah.”

“Fine. Don’t be logical. Lumphy!” Frank calls. “How do we start? I’ve never been to a party before.”

Lumphy is going to explain that they are escaping from a shark, not arriving at a party at all, when Frank interrupts: “Me and the Dryer—we’re both just thrilled.”

Lumphy can’t bear to tell them the truth. “We were trying to get a real cake,” he fibs. “But we could only get an imaginary one. It’s right there in front of you. Chocolate peanut-butter mocha vanilla banana flavor, with frosting roses.”

Plastic catches on. “It’s a party!” she yells, bouncing out of the laundry basket and hopping onto Frank’s lid. “Happy party, everybody!”

“That’s Plastic,” explains Lumphy. “And this is StingRay.”

StingRay, still hidden under dad-pajamas, sticks one flipper out and waves.

“Party!” yells Plastic. “Party, party, party!”

“You can come out, StingRay,” says Frank. And then, about the Dryer, “I know she’s not much to look at, but she doesn’t bite.”

“Hrmph,” says the Dryer, offended.

“A joke, a joke,” Frank tells her. “You know I think you’re beautiful.”

“StingRay is scared of basements,” says Lumphy. “Do you think you could sing her a song, Frank? Because then she wouldn’t be scared, and you’re such a good singer, it would really add to the party.”

“Of course,” booms Frank. “And I know there are some towels here who won’t want to miss the chance to back me up. Towels, wake up! We’re gonna sing!”

A pile of folded purple towels, sitting on top of the dryer, awake from the slumber in which they spend the largest part of every day.

“What’s going on?” asks one.

“Frank wants us to sing,” explains another.

“Frank is all the time singing,” complains a third. “Hey. Is that the ball we see sometimes in the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” answers the first. “The Girl’s ball.”

“I thought I recognized her.”

“Just freestyle it with me, okay?” begs Frank. “Sing backup.”

“We’re always your backup,” mutters the second towel. “You never ask if any of us wants to sing lead, do you?”

But Frank isn’t listening. Instead, his big beautiful voice is belting out:

The towels are humming and oooh oooh oohing, and when Frank sings it all over again, some of them do harmonies. It is very impressive.

During the repeat, StingRay comes out from underneath the dad-pajamas and claps her flippers together. Lumphy is dancing, wagging his tail stump and shaking his buffalo body. Plastic is bouncing.

By the third time through, Frank’s lights are blinking and he’s tilting slightly back and forth. StingRay is tossing her tail around and jumping on the clothes in the laundry basket, while Plastic has added an extra spin to her rhythmic bounce.

“Dance party! Dance party!” Plastic screams.

And it is.

They follow “The StingRay Song” with “Greasy Little Buffalo.” Then a number called “Love Train,” which Frank and the towels know from the radio. StingRay wraps her flippers around Plastic and they roll together in circles on the dusty basement floor. Frank bangs his lid up and down and the towels shimmy their corners as much as towelly possible. Then StingRay grabs Lumphy’s paw and they wiggle and kick and swish their backsides while Plastic bounces so high she hits the basement ceiling.

Finally, everyone collapses in exhaustion; even Plastic.

The music over, they sit around happily chatting and eating slices of the imaginary chocolate peanut-butter mocha vanilla banana cake, with frosting roses for all. StingRay puts her flipper around Plastic and says, “You see? There’s nothing to be frightened of in the basement. It may be dark and dusty, but it’s perfectly safe.”

“I know,” says Plastic.

“I mean, it might be scary for the mice,” says StingRay, “because they’re small and the washer and dryer are so big, but it’s not scary for larger toys like you and me.”

Oh no.

Suddenly, Plastic remembers.

The mice! Bonkers, Millie, Brownie, and Rocky. “We left them upstairs with the shark,” she says, in a small voice.

“What?”

“We left Sheep up there, too.”

“Huh?”

“With the shark.”

StingRay is aghast. “Oh, they’re going to be so mad.”

“If they’re …” Plastic can’t quite say what she’s thinking.

“If they’re what?”

“Um. If they’re still alive.”

“It’s eating them right now!” StingRay cries. “It thinks they’re garbage!

I hate myself,” moans StingRay. “Lumphy, stop talking to the towels. We have to go! The shark is eating Sheep and the mice!”

Lumphy takes in the situation and feels like he might throw up, even though he doesn’t even eat. “What should we do?” he asks.

“Oh, the poor mice!” continues StingRay, ignoring his question. “Shoved into a shark stomach

Ooooh, that’s it!” StingRay waves her flipper, inspired. “Garbage. We need garbage.”

“How come?” Plastic wants to know.

“It’s a garbage-eating shark, right?”

“Right.”

“So if we stuff it full of garbage, at least it won’t be able to eat anyone
else,
” explains StingRay. “Come on!”

. . . . .

There is no time to be secretive. Lumphy, StingRay, and Plastic dash upstairs to the kitchen and open the cabinet under the sink. Lumphy pulls with his teeth and StingRay yanks with her flippers and together they grab the plastic garbage bag and drag it out of its bin. Grunting and huffing, they lug it up the stairs while Plastic bounces at top speed into Honey’s bedroom.

There she finds the shark on one corner of the rug, right next to Sheep and Bonkers. It looks as if it’s about to eat them! And where are the other mice? Oh dear, oh dearie, it is too late!

Plastic takes a good hard bounce on the floor and launches herself at the shark, hitting it hard on its back. Ooof! “Take that, you mouse-eater!” she yells.

Still waiting for Lumphy and StingRay to get up the stairs with the garbage, she retreats briefly, then bounces the shark again.

“Ouch,” the shark says as Plastic readies herself for a third bounce. “Would you back off for a minute, roundie?”

“You big mean mouse-eater!” cries Plastic, and she bounces it again, ooof!—this time knocking the shark off its tummy and onto its side.

“Hey!” it yells. “Mind your manners!”

Sheep and Bonkers rush to safety underneath Highlander, just as StingRay and Lumphy struggle in with the bag of trash.

“Sit on it, Lumphy!” cries StingRay. “Hold it down!”

Lumphy (very bravely) launches himself onto the body of the weakened rubber shark, pinning it to the floor with his forefeet and holding it down with his bottom while StingRay grabs bits of garbage from the bag and shoves them into the shark’s hollow insides.

Spluurk! In goes an orange peel.

Splot! A used tissue.

Spluurk! Another orange peel.

The shark is struggling and tossing its head, snapping its jaws, but Plastic gives it a hard bounce on the nose and StingRay keeps shoveling in the garbage.

A wet coffee filter.

Moldy blueberries.

A rubber band.

A half-eaten pancake.

Old tofu.

Soggy lettuce.

An unwanted carrot.

All of it goes into the hollow shark until it can’t hold any more and its jaws are wedged open.