Guinea Pigs Don't Talk (4 page)

"Squeaky?" he said. "Is that you?"

Squeaky tilted his white head up, while Joe stared at the cage.

"That's right, Joe. It's me, Squeaky."

Joe gasped and threw his hand over his heart.

"No way!"Joe yelled.

He turned and ran into the coatroom. He looked at the wall where Angel stood when she did Squeaky's voice. No one was there. He raced back into the classroom. It was empty.

He stared at Squeaky.

"I want some Yummy Tummy Cream Cake," Squeaky said.

Joe's mouth fell open.

"Bruiser got some yesterday, and I didn't get any," Squeaky added.

Joe took one step forward. In a soft voice he said, "Squeaky?"

Lisa and Traci could barely keep from laughing out loud.

"What?" Squeaky responded.

"I ... uh ... I."

"Spit it out," Squeaky said.

"I can't believe it," Joe said. "You're talking."

Joe felt a tap on his shoulder. He screamed and wheeled around. It was Angel. Joe clutched his chest.

"Don't do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me."

Angel ignored him. "Do you think Lisa will bring in the lettuce?" She laughed.

Joe's face was serious. "Squeaky doesn't want lettuce. He wants Yummy Tummy Cream Cake."

"What?" Angel glared at Joe.

"Squeaky—wants—Yummy—Tummy—Cream—Cake." Joe said the words as clearly as he could.

"What are you talking about?" Angel asked.

"Squeaky—wants—Yummy—Tummy—"

"I heard what you said," she interrupted. "What I want to know is—are you crazy?"

Joe pulled Angel closer.

"Squeaky really does talk," he confided.

"Yeah right," Angel said.

"It's true!"

"Joe, are you starting to believe your own tricks?" Angel shook her head. "Guinea pigs don't talk!"

"I beg your pardon," Squeaky said.

Angel turned slowly to the cage. Her mouth was open. She looked at Squeaky.

"Hello," Squeaky said.

Angel crossed her arms over her chest, and turned back to Joe.

"How are you doing that?" she asked.

"Doing what?" Joe sounded innocent without even trying.

"Making him talk, dummy."

"I'm not making him talk," Joe said.

"Give the guy a break," Squeaky said. "He's innocent until proven guilty."

"Shut up, you," Angel said, pointing her finger at Squeaky. She turned back to Joe. She shook her finger at him.

"How are you doing that?" she demanded.

"I'm not!"

"You're trying to trick me. You know how I hate that," Angel accused. She lowered her voice as a busload of students came into the room.

"No, I promise," he said. "I was in here by myself, and Squeaky started talking to me."

"Someone has to be doing the talking," Angel said.

She turned and ran into the coatroom. No one was there. She raced out and looked under the table.

"I tell you, it has to be Squeaky," Joe said. "There's no one else."

"I want Yummy Tummy Cream Cake!" Squeaky said.

Angel looked at Squeaky. Then at Joe. "Cut it out," she yelled.

"He forgot his scissors," Squeaky responded.

Joe laughed.

Angel stormed off to her desk. "I'm getting to the bottom of this if it's the last thing I do."

More children shuffled into the room and took their seats.

Lisa bit her lip to keep from laughing. She hadn't had this much fun since she moved here. Traci held her hand over her mouth.

"This is the perfect plan," Traci whispered.

"The only thing left to do is get back to our desks without being seen," Lisa said.

"No problem," Traci said. "We can slip around by the shelves. No one will notice."

Before either one of them could move, they heard some dreadful words.

"Good morning, morning glories," Mrs. Flowers bubbled as she entered the room.

The class became quiet when Mrs. Flowers entered the room. Lisa completely forgot about the microphone in her hand.

She blurted out, "Oh no! It's Mrs. Flowers!"

The words came out loud and clear from Squeaky's cage.

"Was that Squeaky?" somebody asked.

The whole class stared at Squeaky.

"I told you he could talk," Joe said to Angel.

Mrs. Flowers stopped in the middle of her step. A hush fell over the class as she faced the students.

"Hmmmmmmmm," Mrs. Flowers said. "Squeaky doesn't sound very glad to see me."

Mrs. Flowers scanned the silent room.

Lisa felt cramped under the desk. Her knees ached. Her back ached. She wanted to stretch her legs, but she didn't dare move.

"I see Traci and Lisa are absent today," Mrs. Flowers said.

Lisa looked at Traci. Traci ran her finger across her neck to show their heads being cut off. Lisa nodded. Traci was right. They were doomed. There was no way out.

Click. Click. Click. Mrs. Flowers's high-heeled shoes clicked across the floor.

"Where's she going?" Lisa whispered.

"Sounds like the back of the room," Traci whispered back.

Click. Click. Click. Silence.

"Squeaky, Squeaky, Squeaky," Mrs. Flowers said. "I'm so sorry that you don't like me."

"I do like you," Lisa said without thinking. Her response was again broadcast from Squeaky's cage to the room.

The class roared with laughter. Mrs. Flowers cleared her throat loudly. The room got quiet.

"I'm glad you like me," she said. "Squeaky, I believe there is something behind your cage. Let's have a look."

Rip. Rip.

Traci made a face. "The speaker," she whispered.

Rip rip rip rip rip.

"The wire," Lisa whispered.

Click. Click.
Rip.
Click. Click.
Rip.

"She's following the wire around the room," Traci whispered.

"And we know where that leads," Lisa added. She held the microphone out toward Traci.

Click. Click.
Rip.
Click. Click.
Rip.

"Squeaky!" Mrs. Flowers said. "Guinea pigs chirp. Guinea pigs purr. They even squeak. But I have never heard one talk."

Lisa lifted the microphone to her lips, and in her squeaky voice answered, "We only talk when we have something to say."

Click. Click.
Rip.
The clicks were getting louder.

"Squeaky, you never told me you could talk," Mrs. Flowers said.

"You never asked," Lisa said into the microphone.

Click. Click. Silence.

Traci poked Lisa's shoulder and pointed to the floor between them. Lisa looked down and saw the rosebuds on Mrs. Flowers's high-heeled shoes pointing under the front of the desk. Lisa felt tension on the wire.

"Squeaky, save us," she said as the microphone slipped from her hand.

The class laughed.

"Come out, girls," Mrs. Flowers called. She rolled the remaining wire into a ball.

Lisa and Traci crawled out to face the class.

Everyone was laughing—except Mrs. Flowers.

Lisa sat at her desk. Her trick had worked, and she felt good about that. Mrs. Flowers had not punished them. She felt good about that too. But something was bothering Lisa. She had two enemies—Angel and Joe.

Lisa had two enemies, and this was only her third day in her new school. That was almost one enemy per day. If she kept this up, by the end of the week she would have five enemies. And in two weeks—ten enemies. By the end of the year she would be the number-one enemy in the school. That was not what she wanted.

Lisa sighed. She had not planned for her first days at school to be like this. Things had simply gotten out of hand. She tapped her pencil on her desk and thought about how it had happened.

It had all started with the guinea-pig fight. Squeaky was being ... what was it Mrs. Flowers had said? Territorial, that was it. Squeaky didn't want anyone new in his territory.

Angel was the same way. She didn't want anyone new in her territory. And in the middle of the school year Lisa had dropped in and taken Angel's desk. Just like Bruiser had dropped into Squeaky's cage.

But Angel wasn't the only problem. Lisa felt a sudden stab of guilt as she realized what had made the problem worse—her own desire for revenge.

Revennnnnnnnnnge.
The word suited its meaning. It sounded good, and it felt good. But there was a problem with revenge. One person's revenge led to another person's revenge. Then double revenge. It kept getting worse. It might never stop, especially with Angel and Joe.

Lisa had to do something, and fast. But what? She needed a solution. She tapped her pencil two more times and the solution came to her. It was
risky, and it would require a secret ingredient. But she had no choice. She had to try it.

Lisa looked at the clock. Ten minutes till recess. Perfect. She would try her solution at recess. There were two things she had to do.

First, she pulled out some paper and wrote three notes—all the same.

Meet me by the slide
at recess.

Lisa passed the notes to Traci, Angel, and Joe.

Second, Lisa needed to get the secret ingredient. She would have to use her lunch money, which was in her bookbag. She tiptoed quietly to the wall where the bookbags hung. She reached into hers.

"Lisa, what are you doing back there?" Mrs. Flowers's voice startled her.

"Getting something from my bookbag," she answered. Angel, Joe, and Traci were all looking at her.

"Well, I think you've done enough for one day," Mrs. Flowers said. "Plant yourself in your seat until recess."

Lisa quickly grabbed the money and slipped it into her pocket. She hurried back to her desk. When she sat down, she checked her watch

again—five minutes until recess. There was barely enough time to run across the street to Mr. Burber's grocery store to get the secret ingredient.

Lisa slipped out of her desk and made her way to Mrs. Flowers's desk. She knew she was pushing her luck.

"Mrs. Flowers," she said as nicely as she could. "May I please go to the restroom?"

Mrs. Flowers smiled. "Lisa, you're like a busy bee today." She let out a sigh. "Okay, but it's almost recess, so meet us on the playground when you're finished."

"Thanks," Lisa said. She hurried out the door. She had five minutes to make it to the slide.

Traci was the first one at the slide.

"Where were you?" she asked when Lisa came running up. "What's in the bag? And what's this all about?"

"It's about our problem with Angel and Joe."

"Oh that," Traci said. "I was thinking about it this morning. I wonder what they'll do next."

"That's the problem," Lisa said. "They do something to us, then we do something to them. It never ends."

"And it keeps getting worse," Traci added.

"Well, I have a plan," Lisa said. "And if it works, the problem will be over. Hey. Here they come."

Angel marched up to the slide. She folded her arms over her chest. "Well, what do you want?" she asked.