I’m Brooke. Brooke Pinnock.”
Suddenly questions started to fly.
“Where did you used to live?” asked Noelle.
“Boston.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Fifth.”
“What do your parents do?” Noelle had lots of questions.
“My parents aren’t alive. I live with my grandparents. Grandpa just
retired, and Grandma and Grandpa wanted to move to a smaller town.
So here we are.”
“Do you have any older brothers?” This was from Megan.
“Nope,” said Brooke. “Do you?”
Megan shook her head no.
“What did your grandpa do before he retired?” asked Marie.
Brooke smiled. “He played for the Boston Red Sox.”
Silence. And then Noelle asked, “Your grandpa played for a
professional baseball team?”
“Sure,” said Brooke. “He was good. The best. He also played for
the Yankees, the White Sox, the Tigers, the Blue Jays—at one time or
another, he played for every team in the American League. He played
for forty years!”
“No one can play for that long,” said Hailey.
“Grandpa did.”
“That’s impossible,” insisted Megan. “He’d be worn out long before
forty years were up.”
“He did complain about arthritis in his fingers toward the end,”
said Brooke. “But besides that, he didn’t seem to have much of a
problem.”
Megan stepped closer to Brooke. “Look, you don’t have to lie
to us—”
“I think she’s just joking,” said Hailey, giving the new girl a chance
to change her story.
Brooke smiled and folded her arms. “Grandpa played for forty
years. I’ll bet anyone ten dollars that I’m telling the truth.”
“I’ll take that bet,” said Megan.
“Hey, you don’t have ten dollars—” started Noelle.
“—Me too!” interrupted Hailey.
“Wait a minute,” said Marie as she watched the movers carry
furniture inside the house. “I wouldn’t take that bet if I were you.
Brooke’s telling the truth. Her grandfather did play for forty years,
and he played for every American League team. Brooke just left out
one important detail.”
What’s the important detail? Tap here to find out.
Shake, Rattle,
and Roll Over
Marie and Noelle love pet-sitting, until a stray shows up.
Will the girls panic or put the dog in its place?
“Don’t you love Ralphie?” Noelle asked. “He knows more tricks
than we do!”
Mrs. Earl had hired Noelle and Marie to watch the Dalmatian
while the Earls stayed at a lake cabin for the month. Every week
Ralphie’s trainer, Madeleine, stopped by to walk the dog to a nearby
park for lessons. This week the girls tagged along.
Noelle and Marie watched as Madeleine ran Ralphie through
his usual tricks: sit, stand, heel, shake, crawl, play dead,
roll over, and speak.
“We have a new trick,” said Madeleine. “Jump rope.”
“Wow,” Noelle whispered.
After Madeleine finished with the training, she invited Marie
and Noelle to practice jumping with the dog. As the girls shouted out
commands, an excited Ralphie showed his talents.
At the end of class, Madeleine hunched down next to Ralphie.
She removed a blue metal charm from his collar and replaced it with
a silver one. “You’re moving up, Ralphie,” she said, rubbing the dog’s
fur. “Before long, you’ll wear gold!”
“Do you have a tight hold on his leash?” the trainer asked Marie.
“Sure,” said Marie. “Why?”
Madeleine stood, smiled, and waved good-bye to Marie. Then, in
a firm voice, she said, “Go home.” Ralphie turned and raced toward
his house, dragging a giggling Marie on the leash behind him.
Noelle dashed after them. “See you next week!”
Within minutes, the dog had slid onto the Earls’ porch.
“Uh-oh, trouble,” Noelle said, pointing to the garden.
A huge brown mutt sniffed and sifted through Mrs. Earl’s tomato
patch, ignoring the girls. “Think he’ll fight with Ralphie?” asked
Noelle.
“I doubt it,” Marie said, “but we’d better be careful—”
