ened, looked at one another.At last! The fifth Quimby would soon be here. Nothing would

be the same again, ever. Mr. Quimby reported that the doctor would meet them at the

hospital. Without being asked, Beezus ran

170

for the bag her mother had packed several weeks ago.

Mrs. Quimby kissed her daughters.“Don’t

look so frightened,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right. Be good girls, and Daddy will be home as soon as he can.” She bent forward and hugged Algie again.

The house suddenly seemed empty. The

girls listened to the car back out of the driveway. The sound of the motor became lost in traffic.

“Well,” said Beezus, “I suppose we might

as well do the dishes.”

“I suppose so.” Ramona tested all the

doors, including the door to the basement, to make sure they were locked.

“Too bad Picky-picky isn’t here to eat all this tuna salad no one felt like eating.” Beezus scraped the plates into the garbage.

To her own surprise, Ramona burst into

tears and buried her face in a dish towel. “I 172

just want Mother to come home,” she wept.

Beezus wiped her soapy hands on the seat

of her cutoff jeans. Then she put her arms around Ramona, something she had never

done before.“Don’t worry, Ramona. Every-

thing will be all right. Mother said so, and I remember when you came.”

Ramona felt better. A big sister could be

a comfort if she wanted to.

“You got born and Mother was fine.”

Beezus handed Ramona a clean dish towel.

Minutes crawled by. The long Oregon

dusk turned into night.The girls turned on the television set to a program about people in a hospital, running, shouting, giving orders.

Quickly they turned it off. “I hope Aunt

Bea and Uncle Hobart are all right,” said

Ramona. The girls longed for their loving

aunt, who was cheerful in times of trouble and who was always there when the family

needed her. Now she was in a truck, riding 173

along the Canadian Highway to Alaska.

Ramona thought about bears, mean bears.

She wondered if two pairs of white shoes

still danced from the bumper of the truck.

The ring of the telephone made Ramona

feel as if arrows of electricity had shot through her stomach as Beezus ran to answer.

“Oh.” There was disappointment in

Beezus’s voice.“All right, Daddy. No. No, we don’t mind.” When the conversation ended,

she turned to Ramona, who was wild for

news, and said, “Algie is taking his time.

Daddy wants to stay with Mom and wanted

to be sure we didn’t mind staying alone. I said we didn’t, and he said we were brave girls.”

“Oh,” said Ramona, who longed for her

father’s return.“Well, I’m brave, I guess.” Even though the evening was unusually warm, she closed all the windows.

“I suppose we should go to bed,” said