cool,” Julie said. “Which school?”
“Well, he just started there today—like I just started here,” replied Carla. “I think it’s called Maxwell Academy.”
“Hey—like the coffee!” Joy pointed out the window to the building across the street, which was plastered with a large billboard for Maxwell House Coffee.
“Um, yeah,” said Carla with a grin, and they all laughed again.
This new girl is really nice, thought Julie. It would be fun to visit her big house and get to know her large family. Julie was sure they would become good friends.
chapter 3
Spy Radio
JULIE INVITED CARLA home after school. Joy walked with them as far as her street, and then Julie and Carla continued on together. Julie pushed open the door to Gladrags, her mother’s little shop on the ground floor beneath their apartment, and the bell above the door jangled. Carla stepped through the curtain of beads at the shop door, her eyes sparkling. “What a cute place!”
“Gladrags is my mom’s baby,” Julie said, feeling proud of her mom. Running the shop was a lot of work, but a lot of fun, too. It was a treasure trove of trendy miscellany: There were racks of Indian print dresses, knitted ponchos, colorful silk scarves, and hand-tooled leather belts. There were glass cases displaying earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, and baskets of charms and beads for making your own. Shelves around the room held pottery and candles, incense, kites, lamps, and wooden toys. A table in the window was full of hand-painted flowerpots, and macramé plant holders hung from the ceiling.
But today there was no sign of Mrs. Albright. Instead, Hank was working behind the counter. He waved to Julie and Carla. “Hello, lovely ladies. The boss has gone off with Tracy at the wheel and left me in charge. They shouldn’t be gone too long—just went to the market to buy provisions for our Thanksgiving feast.” He smiled at them. “The fellows I’m bringing with me to the party will just be so glad of a home-cooked meal, I doubt they’ll notice whether we’re eating roast turkey or plain old hot dogs.”
“I think it’ll be fun to have the soldiers with us on Thanksgiving,” Julie said. Then she introduced Carla. “This is Carla—she’s new at school. Carla, this is our friend Hank. He works at the rehab center for injured soldiers.”
Carla winced. “That must be so hard,” she murmured, and then quickly turned away to look at some silver bangles displayed on top of the counter. She tried one on her wrist.
“Two for a buck,” Hank said. “Pretty, aren’t they?”
“Yes!” Carla hesitated, then put the bracelet back. “I’ll come back when I’ve got my money with me.”
Julie led the way up the stairs at the back of the shop. “I’ll be down here till your mom gets back,” Hank called after them. “She said she left you a snack on the table.”
Julie and Carla hurried up to the kitchen, where a plate of Oreos waited. They each took three cookies and headed for Julie’s room.
Carla was good company. She roamed around, inspecting the bead curtain around Julie’s bed, her bulletin board, her posters, her bookshelf, and the framed photo of Julie and her sister sitting on the buckboard of an old-fashioned covered wagon.
“That picture was taken last summer,” Julie told Carla, “on the last leg of a cross-country trip to celebrate the Bicentennial. We had loads of fun living like pioneers!”
“Sounds cool,” said Carla. She plopped herself cross-legged in the center of Julie’s bed, as if she’d been Julie’s friend forever, and Julie smiled. “My family has had some great trips together, too,” Carla said. She described the amazing vacations she’d taken with her large family: They’d gone to Hawaii, Canada, Mexico, and Italy. Julie couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy; the Bicentennial trip had been wonderful, but her family rarely went traveling, and never all together since the divorce. Her mom had to work so hard running Gladrags, and her dad’s busy flight schedule kept him away often.
A little later, Julie and Carla made popcorn, shaking the foil-covered Jiffy-Pop pan over the stove and watching as the foil puffed up like a balloon. They talked about what they liked to read and discovered they both loved mysteries.
“I named my spider Harriet, in honor of Harriet the Spy,” said Julie. “She’s Harriet the Spy-der!”
“Ew—you have a pet spider?”
“Only because I really want a dog, but I can’t have one,” Julie explained.
“Well…my sister is named for Nancy Drew!” Carla told her, giggling. “No, really she was named for our Aunt Nancy. Nancy is my kindergarten sister. She can be a pest sometimes. At least my dog doesn’t sneak into my room and play with my stuff.”
“What kind of dog do you have?” Julie asked eagerly.
“A border collie,” said Carla. “And he’s super smart.” She told Julie about all the tricks her dog could do. He could shake paws and jump over hurdles, roll over and play dead, and even search for hidden objects.
“You have to invite me over to meet him!” cried Julie. “We could hide things for him to find.”
“Or I could bring him by when I’m taking him on a walk,” offered Carla. “You could walk with us.”
“I’d love to!”
The girls took their popcorn back to Julie’s room. Julie got out her tape recorder. “Okay,” she said into the microphone, “this is KJC radio. Today we present an interview with—ta-dah!—Carla Warner, New Girl in Town.”
Carla laughed. “What’s KJC stand for?”
“Well, West Coast radio stations always start with K. And the J is for Julie, of course, and the C—”
“—is for Carla!” finished Carla. “That’s good. Or we could call it KSPY. Because we both like spies.”
“That’s even better,” said Julie, rewinding the cassette tape. “I’ll start over.” She spoke dramatically into the microphone. “This is KSPY, best station in the West. And today’s interview features the famous Carla Warner, New Spy in Town!”
“You can’t tell people I’m a spy,” objected Carla. “It’s supposed to be secret.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
They started again, giggling. Julie asked Carla about her dog. “What’s his name? Our listeners would dearly love to know.”
“Jack,” she said. “Blackjack the border collie.”
“How fascinating,” said Julie in her radio voice. “And can you tell our listeners what it’s like to have a twin brother?”
Carla rolled her eyes and made a gagging noise. “No,” she corrected herself. “That’s unfair to Tom. Usually it’s lots of fun having a twin.”
“I thought his name was Tim,” said
