18th Emergency Read Online Free PDF Page B

horror movie on channel fifty-three.”
    “I might be in in a minute,” he said. He unzipped his jacket and stared up at the ceiling.
    Emergency Ten—If attacked by a vampire, make the sign of the cross.
    Emergency Eleven—If attacked by a werewolf, draw a six-pointed star and get in it.
    The phone rang, and his mother answered it. She came into the hall where he was lying on the day bed. There had been a lot of talk at one time of moving into a larger apartment where he could have a bedroom of his own, but Mouse thought he would feel funny in a bedroom now. The hall with the day bed and the bookcase at the end for his things suited him just fine.
    “Your dad wants to talk to you.”
    Mouse got up quickly because his father’s understanding about the flashlight was still in his mind. Mouse’s father had been driving a truck for the last two years, and Mouse hardly ever got to see him. He ran to the phone. “Hello.” He looked down at the table. On the cover of the telephone book he had written ALL THE NUMBERS IN HERE ARE TO BE DIALED ON THIS, and then had drawn an arrow to the telephone. “Hello,” he said again, louder.
    “Benjie?”
    “Yes, this is me.”
    “Well, how are you, son?”
    “Fine.” He paused and added with a loud laugh, “For now anyway.” It was his scared voice, but his father did not recognize it over the telephone. Mouse waited for his father to say sympathetically, “Oh, is there something wrong?”
    Suddenly he wanted this more than anything. He began to twist his finger into the telephone cord. He wanted his father to beg. “Tell me, Benjie,” he wanted his father say. “Whatever the trouble is, I want to know. I demand to know. Tell me.”
    “Oh, all right,” he would then answer as casually as possible. “Three boys are going to kill me—Marv Hammerman, Tony Lionni, and a boy in a black sweat shirt.”
    His father said, “I’m in Kentucky and, boy, is it raining. How is it there?”
    “Well, the weather’s all right.”
    “Fine, listen, I was just thinking maybe we might do something next weekend. It looks like I’m going to be in town after all.”
    Mouse hesitated, holding the phone against his cheek. His mother was not looking at her orders now, but was sitting up straight listening to his conversation. She said, “Speak up, Benjie, talk to your father. This is long distance.”
    “I know, Mom.”
    “Well, how about it, Benjie? You want to do something next weekend?”
    “Sure,” Mouse said, “that would be fine.” Then he laughed again and said, “If I’m still able to do something.”
    “Don’t start on that, Benjie,” his mother said in a low voice.
    “How does the baseball game sound?” his father said.
    “What?”
    “The baseball game.”
    “Fine, that sounds fine,” Mouse said, looking at his mother.
    “Sound excited,” his mother suggested from the sofa. “He’s making a special effort to do this.”
    “Yeah, that sounds very fine,” he said. He gave up on his father. One by one, the people who could help him were falling away, leaving him to face his trouble alone. It was like one of those western movies.
    “And now let me speak to your mom for a minute,” his father was saying.
    “Sure.” He held out the phone. “He wants to speak to you.” His mother came over quickly, and Mouse went back and lay on the day bed. He heard his mother saying in a low voice, “No, no, there’s nothing wrong with him. No, nothing.” There was a pause. Her voice got lower. “He’s just got the idea that some boys are after him, that’s all. It’s nothing.”
    He waited, thinking he might be called back to the telephone. Then he heard his mother say, “No, we can have supper here. You have to eat out too much. No!” She laughed. “Besides I’ve got a new recipe I want to try—a lady served it at one of my parties.” There was a silence. Then she laughed and said, “Napoleon’s hot dogs.”
    Mouse turned over. The covers were twisting