What a Pair! (15 page)

For the next week, Mark and Mattie practiced riding their new bicycle, but they couldn’t seem to work together so the bike wouldn’t wobble all over the place, and it either went too fast or too slow.
When Mark rode up front, Mattie didn’t pedal hard enough and he had to do all the work. When Mattie rode up front, she didn’t steer right and the bike vibrated and went crooked. The other day when they’d ridden their bike to school, Mattie had been up front, and she’d pedaled so fast that Mark’s hat flew off his head. Even some of the flowers Mattie had attached to the basket at the front of the bike had blown off. Mattie was a reckless, crazy driver; that was for sure!

“I don’t like the bicycle built for two,” Mark told Mattie one Saturday morning, after breakfast. “Mom said we should keep practicing, but I’m not going to ride it today.”

“That’s fine with me,” Mattie said with a nod. “Anyway, I’d rather do something fun, and riding that silly bike sure isn’t fun.”

“Think I’ll go out to the barn and play with Lucky’s busslin. Want to come?” Mark asked.

She shook her head. “No thanks. I have better things to do than get my hands all scratched up by those frisky little kittens.”

“Aw, it doesn’t hurt that much,” Mark said. “You just need to know how to handle them.”

“I don’t want to handle them, ‘cause I don’t like katze. Think I’ll go find Twinkles.” Mattie hurried away.

Mark shrugged and headed for the barn. If Mattie preferred to play with her irritating dog instead of petting the cuddly kittens, that was fine with him.

When Mark stepped inside the barn, he nearly bumped into Calvin.

“Russell and I are goin’ fishing again.” Calvin motioned to the fishing pole he held. “Wanna come?”

Mark shook his head. “Not today. Think I’m gonna play with the busslin awhile, and then I may read a buch.”

Calvin shrugged his shoulders. “If you’d rather read a book than go fishing that’s up to you, but I thought you’d wanna try out that new fishing pole Grandpa gave you. I’m sure Grandpa’s eager to hear how you like it.”

“Some other time,” Mark said. “I don’t really feel like fishin’ today.”

“Suit yourself, brainiac.”

Mark frowned. “It’s bad enough that some of the kids at school call me that; I don’t need you saying it, too.”

Calvin ruffled Mark’s hair. “Don’t get yourself all worked up; I was only teasing. The kids who call you brainiac are probably jealous because studying comes easy to you, and you get better grades than they do.”

“They could get good grades, too, if they studied more,” Mark said. “I tell that to Mattie all the time, but she thinks she doesn’t do well because she’s dumm.”

“She wouldn’t think so if she studied harder instead of daydreaming all the time.”

Mark nodded. “I agree.”

“Well, guess I’d better see if Russell’s ready to go. We’ll be at the Raber’s Pond if you change your mind about fishing.” Calvin gave Mark’s shoulder a squeeze and hurried out the door.

Mark went over to the box where the kittens were kept and found them all sleeping. He didn’t want to disturb them so he left the barn and went up to his room to get a book. Then he went back outside and flopped on the grass, listening to the cicadas singing noisily in the trees. With the cool weather that was just around the corner, Mark knew he wouldn’t be hearing the annual cicada much longer. But for now, like all summer long, he’d enjoy the noisy insects as they sang their loud buzzing song from sunup to sunset. At night, when the cicadas quieted, the katydids and crickets took over. It seemed there was always some sort of bug sound during the summer and early fall months. Since they were back in school again, it was nice to have a lazy day like this when he could read or just watch the clouds as they drifted across the sky.

Mark stayed there awhile; then he decided to try to look for a place to put his new frog house. As he walked around the yard looking for just the right spot, he noticed a praying mantis perched on a branch in one of Mom’s azalea bushes.

He stepped up for a closer look and watched in amazement as the sneaky praying mantis moved in very slowly on an unsuspecting multicolored ladybug.

“Leave that cute little bug alone and pick on someone your own size,” Mark said, scooping the ladybug into his hand. He smiled when he set it free. “Besides, ladybugs are supposed to bring good luck.”

Of course, Mark knew that was only a superstition, but he still wanted to save the little ladybug.

The praying mantis turned its head toward Mark, as if to say, “Hey, that was my lunch you just stole.”

Just then Mark spotted a grasshopper leaping through the flower bed below.
Zip!—
he reached down and caught it on the first try. Then, knowing the praying mantis needed something to eat, Mark set the grasshopper on the azalea bush. It didn’t take long for the praying mantis to turn its head and spot its next meal. Then it slowly approached the grasshopper, rose up right over it, wobbled a bit, and just that quick, it snatched the bug in its forelegs. Immediately, the mantis started chomping on its prey.

Mark knew if Mattie had seen that she’d probably say, “Eww …”, but he thought it was kind of neat. After all, the praying mantis needed something to eat.

Thinking about Mattie, he remembered seeing her on the porch swing when he’d gone out to the barn earlier. He glanced toward the house and saw that she was still there. Maybe after he’d watched the praying mantis awhile longer he’d go have a little talk with Mattie, because there was a question he wanted to ask her.

Mattie pushed her feet against the wooden floorboards to get the porch swing moving faster. It was nice to just sit and listen to the cicadas and birds, while she rocked back and forth and admired the pretty yellow mums Grandpa and Grandma Troyer had given her. Yesterday afternoon, Mom had helped Mattie prepare one corner of the flower bed that she could call her own. That’s where Mattie planted the mum, and she had plans to plant a few other flowers there as well. Dad had even been nice enough to make Mattie a little wooden sign that said
Mattie’s Corner
. It was fun to have her own place in the yard that she didn’t have to share with anyone.

Purr … Purr … Purr …

Mattie looked to the left and saw Lucky lying on the window ledge with her nose resting between her paws.

Mattie muttered, “You oughta be in the barn taking care of your busslin instead of out here sleeping.”

Lucky just ignored her and kept sleeping and purring.

Mattie looked away from Mark’s cat and glanced into the yard. There lay Twinkles on top of the picnic table. Silly dog liked to sleep in strange places. One time a few weeks ago, Mattie had discovered Twinkles on the roof of their house, sound asleep. Another time she’d found the dog sleeping on the front seat of Dad’s buggy. Dad hadn’t been happy about that at all, because Twinkles had left some of her dog hair behind, which meant Dad had to clean the seat before they could take the horse and buggy to church that Sunday.

Bzzz … Bzzz … Bzzz …
Mattie looked up and saw a fly circling her head. “Go on now—shoo.” She swatted at the pesky insect, thankful that it wasn’t a bee. The fly finally flew off the porch and into the yard.

Mattie closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the swing, as she focused on the birds in their yard, singing a sweet melody. There were still a few songbirds left, but this time of the year a lot of them had started migrating south. In a few more weeks the squawking blue jays and the crows with their
caw, caw, caw
sound would be some of the few birds serenading everyone until spring arrived again the following year.

Bzzz … Bzzz … Bzzz …
There was that pesky fly again.

Mattie, with her eyes still closed, reached up and swatted at the sound of the insect.

“Ouch!” A terrible stinging sensation shot through her finger, and Mattie’s eyes popped open. She gasped when she saw a bumblebee sitting on her finger, even after the sting. She flicked it away and winced as she pulled out the stinger. So now she knew what it felt like to be stung by a bee. Just like everyone had said, it really smarted. Well, she didn’t like it one little bit and hoped it never happened to her again!

Woof! Woof!
Twinkles bounded onto the porch.
Woof! Woof! Woof!
She jumped up to the window ledge and nipped at Lucky’s fluffy tail.

Meow!
The cat leaped into the air and landed on the lounge chair below the window, catching her feet in the webbing. Poor Lucky just lay there all flattened out.

Even though Mattie didn’t care much for Mark’s cat, she couldn’t let the poor critter stay like that. So she bent down, carefully untangled the cat’s feet, and picked her up.

Lucky growled and sank her claws into Mattie’s arm.

“Yeow!” Mattie dropped the cat on the porch. “So that’s the thanks I get for trying to help you,” she muttered. “Maybe I should have left you stuck there in that chair!”

Woof! Woof!
Twinkles chased after Lucky as she leaped off the porch. Round and round the yard they went, with Twinkles barking frantically, and Lucky screeching like her tail was on fire.

“What’s going on?” Mark called, as he raced around the house and into the backyard.

Mattie quickly explained all that had happened. “Just look what Lucky did to me.” She showed Mark the painful scratches on her arm. “Now thanks to her I’m miserable.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry she scratched you, but it wouldn’t have happened if your hund hadn’t nipped at my cat’s tail. You oughta keep Twinkles locked up in her pen.”

Mattie shook her head. “That wouldn’t be fair. Lucky should have been in the barn with her busslin instead of sleeping on the window ledge.”

“She can’t be in the barn every single minute. She needs some time to herself,” Mark said. “Besides, all the busslin are sleeping right now.”

Mattie held her finger out to Mark. “Not only did your cat scratch me, but I got a bee sting.”

“When did that happen?” he asked.

“Right before Twinkles scared Lucky.”

“Does it hurt much?” Mark really did look concerned.

“Jah, but the stinger came right out.”

Mark touched Mattie’s arm. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Me, too, but I guess everyone gets a bee sting sometime in their life.” Mattie stepped off the porch.

“Where are you going?” he called.

“Out to the garden to check on my pretty mums and see if they need any water.”

“Say, Mattie, there’s something else I want to say,” Mark said, tagging along beside her.

“What’s that?”

“It’s about your little flower bed.”

Mattie stopped walking and tipped her head. “What about it?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could put my frog house in your garden.”

“Why would you want to put it there? You have the whole yard to choose a spot for the old flower pot Grandma and Grandpa Troyer gave you.”

“It’s not just an old pot,” Mark said. “It’s a frog house. Or at least it will be once a frog finds the clay pot and makes it his home.”

Mattie shrugged her shoulders. “So that doesn’t answer my question. Why would you want to put it in my flower garden?”

Mark’s face turned pink. “I just thought … Well, that yellow mum Grandma and Grandpa gave you is awful pretty, and maybe some frog will think so, too, and it’ll hop right into your little garden. Then when it sees the clay pot, it’ll hop inside.”

Mattie tapped her chin as she gave Mark’s request some serious thought. The nice flower bed with the beautiful yellow mums was supposed to be her space and no one else’s, so she had a decision to make. Should she let Mark put his frog house there, or tell him to find another spot?

    C
HAPTER
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