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The 18th Emergency
The 18th Emergency
The 18th Emergency
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The 18th Emergency

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Benjie and his friend Ezzie have escape plans for every emergency, including lion attacks and quicksand, but no clue what to do about the class bully

So what if Benjie “Mouse” Fawley likes practical jokes? He’s a good kid who never meant to harm anyone. The same cannot be said for Marv Hammerman, a boy in Benjie’s middle school who is as big as a high-schooler but has the temper of a two-year-old. When Benjie (in a fit of insanity) writes a joke about Marv for all to see, he soon realizes he’s stumbled into the biggest emergency he’s ever faced. Now Benjie must decide whether to stay at school and face a clobbering, or run off and live the rest of his life hiding in the woods. The 18th Emergency is a hilarious account of the trials of surviving the school bully. This ebook features an illustrated biography of Betsy Byars including rare images from the author’s personal collection.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 12, 2013
ISBN9781453294178
The 18th Emergency
Author

Betsy Byars

Betsy Byars is the author of many award-winning books for children, including The Summer of the Swans, a Newbery Medal winner. The Pinballs was an ALA Notable Book. She is also the author of Goodbye, Chicken Little; The Two-Thousand-Pound Goldfish; and the popular Golly Sisters trilogy.

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    The 18th Emergency - Betsy Byars

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    The 18th Emergency

    Betsy Byars

    Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    A Biography of Betsy Byars

    THE PIGEONS FLEW OUT of the alley in one long swoop and settled on the awning of the grocery store. A dog ran out of the alley with a torn Cracker Jack box in his mouth. Then came the boy.

    The boy was running hard and fast. He stopped at the sidewalk, looked both ways, saw that the street was deserted and kept going. The dog caught the boy’s fear, and he started running with him.

    The two of them ran together for a block. The dog’s legs were so short he appeared to be on wheels. His Cracker Jack box was hitting the sidewalk. He kept glancing at the boy because he didn’t know why they were running. The boy knew. He did not even notice the dog beside him or the trail of spilled Cracker Jacks behind.

    Suddenly the boy slowed down, went up some stairs and entered an apartment building. The dog stopped. He sensed that the danger had passed, but he stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs. Then he went back to eat the Cracker Jacks scattered on the sidewalk and to snarl at the pigeons who had flown down to get some.

    Inside the building the boy was still running. He went up the stairs three at a time, stumbled, pulled himself up by the banister and kept going until he was safely inside his own apartment. Then he sagged against the door.

    His mother was sitting on the sofa, going over some papers. The boy waited for her to look up and ask him what had happened. He thought she should be able to hear something was wrong just from the terrible way he was breathing. Mom, he said.

    Just a minute. I’ve got to get these orders straight. When she went over her cosmetic orders she had a dedicated, scientific look. He waited until she came to the end of the sheet.

    Mom. Without looking up, she turned to the next page. He said again, Mom.

    I’m almost through. There’s a mistake some—

    He said, Never mind. He walked heavily through the living room and into the hall. He threw himself down on the day bed.

    His mother said, I’m almost through with this, Benjie.

    I said, ‘Never mind.’ He looked up at the ceiling. In a blur he saw a long cobweb hanging by the light fixture. A month ago he had climbed on a chair, written UNSAFE FOR PUBLIC SWINGING and drawn an arrow to the cobweb. It was still there.

    He closed his eyes. He was breathing so hard his throat hurt.

    Benjie, come back, his mother called. I’m through.

    "Never mind."

    Come on, Benjie, I want to talk to you.

    He got up slowly and walked into the living room. She had put her order books on the coffee table. Sit down. Tell me what’s wrong. He hesitated and then sat beside her on the sofa. She waited and then said again, What’s wrong?

    He did not answer for a moment. He looked out the window, and he could see the apartment across the street. A yellow cat was sitting in the window watching the pigeons. He said in a low voice, Some boys are going to kill me.

    "Not kill you, Benjie, she said. No one is—"

    He glanced quickly at her. Well, how do I know what they’re going to do? he said, suddenly angry. "They’re chasing me, that’s all I know. When you see somebody chasing you, and when it’s Marv Hammerman and Tony Lionni and a boy in a black sweat shirt you don’t stop and say, ‘Now, what exactly are you guys planning to do—kill me or just break a few arms and legs?’"

    What did you do to these boys?

    "What did I do? I didn’t do anything. You think I would do something to Marv Hammerman who is the biggest boy in my school? He is bigger than the eighth graders. He should be in high school."

    I know you did something. I can always tell. Now, what happened?

    Nothing, Mom. I didn’t do anything. He looked down at his shoes. With his foot he began to kick at the rug. A little mound of red lint piled up in front of his tennis shoe.

    They wouldn’t be after you for nothing.

    Well, they are. He paused. He knew he had to give an explanation, but he could not give the right one. He said, Maybe Hammerman just doesn’t like me. I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.

    Look at me, Benjie.

    Without looking up he said, Mom, just listen to what Hammerman did to this boy in my room one time. This boy was in line in the cafeteria and Hammerman came up to him and—

    "What I want to hear is what happened today, Benjie."

    "Just listen. And this boy in the cafeteria was standing in line, Mom, doing absolutely nothing, and Hammerman comes up to him and—"

    "Benjie, what happened today?"

    He hesitated. He looked down at his tennis shoe. There was a frayed hole in the toe, and he had taken a ballpoint pen and written AIR VENT and drawn a little arrow pointing to the hole.

    What happened? she asked again.

    Nothing. He did not look at her.

    Benjie—

    Nothing happened.

    She sighed, then abruptly she looked up. The beans! She walked to the kitchen, and he lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

    Benjie? He looked up. His mother was leaning around the door, looking at him. Why don’t you watch television? Get your mind off yourself. That always helps me.

    No, it won’t help.

    Well, let’s just see what’s on. She came back in, turned on the television and waited for the set to warm up. He closed his eyes. He knew there was nothing on television that could interest him.

    Tarzan! his mother said. You always have loved Tarzan.

    He opened his eyes and glanced at the screen. In the depths of the jungle, a hunter had stumbled into quicksand, and Tarzan was swinging to the rescue.

    All the hunter has to do, he said with a disgusted sigh, is lie down on the quicksand and not struggle and he won’t sink.

    That wouldn’t leave anything for Tarzan to do though, would it? his mother said, smiling a little.

    Oh, I don’t know. He closed his eyes and shifted on the sofa. After a minute he heard his mother go back into the kitchen. He opened his eyes. On the screen the hunter was still struggling. Cheetah was beginning to turn nervous somersaults. Tarzan was getting closer.

    Once he and his friend Ezzie had made a list of all the ways they knew to stay alive. Ezzie had claimed he could stay alive in the jungle forever. Ezzie said every jungle emergency had a simple solution.

    Lying on the sofa, he tried to remember some of those old emergencies.

    A second one came into his mind. Emergency Two—Attack by an Unfriendly Lion. Lion attack, Ezzie claimed, was an everyday occurrence in the jungle. What you had to

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