father would come home.

Ramona knew she could get away with

going to the bathroom at least once. She

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stood up on her bed, and even though she

knew it was not a safe thing to do, she leaped into the center of her room and ran into the hall before Something hiding under the bed

could reach out and grab her ankles. On her

way back she reversed her flying leap and

landed on her bed, where she quickly pulled

her covers up to her chin.

The moment Ramona dreaded had come. There was no one awake to protect

her. Ramona tried to lie as flat and as still as a paper doll so that Something slithering

under the curtains and slinking around the

walls would not know she was there. She

kept her eyes wide open. She longed for her

father to come home; she was determined

to stay awake until morning.

Ramona thought of Beezus safely asleep

in the friendly dark of the room they had

once shared. She thought of the way they

used to whisper and giggle and sometimes

scare themselves. Even their quarrels were

better than being alone in the dark. She

ached to move, to ease her muscles, rigid

from lying still so long, but she dared not.

She thought of the black gorilla with fierce little eyes in the book in her bookcase and

tried to shove the thought out of her mind.

She listened for cars on the wet street and

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strained her ears for the sound of a familiar motor. After what seemed like hours and

hours, Ramona caught the sound of the

Quimby car turning into the driveway. She

went limp with relief. She heard her father

unlock the back door and enter. She heard

him pause by the thermostat to turn off the

furnace. She heard him turn off the living-

room light and tiptoe down the hall.

“Daddy!” whispered Ramona.

Her father stopped by her door. “You’re

supposed to be asleep.”

“Come here for just a minute.” Mr.

Quimby stepped into Ramona’s room.

“Daddy, turn on the light a minute. Please.”

“It’s late.” Mr. Quimby did as he was told.

The light, which made Ramona squint,

was a relief. She held up her hand to shield her eyes. She was so glad to see her father

standing there in his bowling clothes. He

looked so good and so familiar and made

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her feel so safe.“Daddy, see that big book in my bookcase?”

“Yes.”

“Take it out of my room,” said Ramona.

To herself, she thought, Please, Daddy, don’t ask me why. She added, to protect herself

from any questions, “It’s a good book. I

think you might like it.”

Mr. Quimby pulled the book from the

bookcase, glanced at it, and then bent over

and kissed Ramona on the forehead. “No

more stalling, young lady,” he said. “You

were supposed to be asleep hours ago.” He