I knew the same question was on both of our minds: Who’s going to pull the next prank?

True, I had pulled the last one. And yet that prank was an epic fail for me, and a big, fat win for Rafe. So whose turn was it? Would the next victim be Rafe? Or me?

“What are you planning?” Rafe demanded.

“Nothing,” I said. “You?”

“Nothing.”

His hands were empty, so I decided to trust him. I guess Rafe made the same decision about me, because he nodded, and we started up the walk to our house. We walked up the steps. Rafe opened the door….

Wait—is this the right house?

“Surprise!” Grandma Dotty cried. She was sitting on a hideous flowered couch. “I got my things out of storage and decided to freshen up the decor around here.”

It wasn’t that our apartment looked awful…. It was just that it looked exactly like Dotty’s old house. I looked at Rafe. Rafe looked at me.

“This is bad,” Rafe whispered.

“Wait till you see what I’ve done with the other rooms!” Dotty chuckled.

“Other rooms?” Rafe repeated, but I was already racing up the stairs. I threw open the door to my personal space.

“What’s this?” I shrieked. “Where’s my stuff?” My room now had a couch, a plant, and an empty birdcage. I yanked open the closet. Nothing. “Where’s Mr. Bananas?” My stuffed monkey had disappeared, along with my Most Outstanding Effort medal, my favorite blanket, and my bed.

I heard Rafe howl next door and raced to see the destruction there.

“This looks way better than it used to,” I told him.

“It’s horrible!” Rafe cried. “I can’t find anything! Where’s my favorite drawing pen? Where’s the painting Mom made for me? Where’s last Thursday’s leftover pizza? This room is about as fun as… a prison cell.”

“This is a disaster!” Rafe wailed. “That pizza was my science project!”

“We have to tell Grandma to put everything back where it was,” I said.

“She probably has no clue how to do that,” Rafe pointed out. “And she might not want to. She’s kind of…” His voice trailed off.

“Dotty?” I suggested.

“Exactly.”

We needed to come up with a way to make Dotty want to give us back our stuff. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Listen, Rafe,” I said, taking him by the shoulder. “I have a plan. But I’m going to need your help.”

Rafe looked suspicious. “What’s the plan?”

“We have to convince Grandma to get all our old stuff out from wherever she put it,” I said. “Let’s tell her we’ll have a garage sale. Then she’ll put everything out, and we’ll sort through it and keep what we really want before we sell anything.”

“Grandma Dotty goes to garage sales every Sunday,” Rafe said. “She can’t resist them.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, Georgia,” he said finally, “you can count on me.”