crumpled up. Anastasia grabbed it.
"A dollar!" she said. "Finders keepers!"
That was okay. Sam found four pennies.
"What's
this?
" Mrs. Krupnik asked, with a look on her face that meant "yuck." She poked something with the toe of her sandal.
"I dunno," Anastasia said. "It's something gross."
Sam knew what it was. But he didn't tell them. It was part of a lunch that he hadn't wanted to eat, once, quite a long time ago. Tuna fish sandwich. When he had stuffed it under the couch, he had thought it would disappear forever.
He began to remember all the other things he had hidden in other places. A vitamin pill under the washing machine. A partly chewed cucumber. He had poked that under the radiator in Dad's study.
And broccoli. Sam hated broccoli. Every time they had broccoli for dinner, Sam waited until no one was looking, and he hid his broccoli in his lap or his pocket. Then, later, he tucked it under the corner of the living room rug and squashed it down carefully with his foot. There was a whole year's supply of broccoli there by now. A mountain of broccoli, all squashed. Sam had always thought that he would never get to see it again. He had thought that it had disappeared forever.
Now, on moving day, he waited. The living room rug was one of the very last things. Sam had to wait while the movers did everything else: the beds, the desks, the tables and chairs.
Finally, after all the furniture was in the truck, they returned to the living room. One of themâthe one with the blue-and-red dragon tattooâleaned down to begin to roll the end of the rug.
But Mrs. Krupnik stopped him. "No," she said. "Not the rug."
Sam looked at her in surprise. He wanted very much to see what had happened to his broccoli, especially now that he had seen how his tuna fish sandwich had turned an interesting shade of blue.
"We're leaving the rug here," his mom told the moving man. The man shrugged and dropped the edge of the rug back down on the floor.
"Why?" Sam asked. "Why can't we take the rug?"
"Dad and I bought a new rug for the living room in the new house," his mom said. "We'll leave this one for the people who move in here. They can decide what to do with it."
"Why? Why don't we keep it?"
His mom frowned. She kicked at the rug with her toe. "It's gotten old," she said. "I used to like this rug. The color is so nice. But somehow, it's lost its shape. It doesn't lie flat the way it should. We'll just leave it as a surprise for the next people," she told Sam. "Maybe they'll be really happy to have a free rug."
And broccoli, Sam thought. Lots of free broccoli, too.
The new house was very, very different from the old apartment.
It was much, much bigger.
There were three floors instead of just one. Front stairs and back stairs.
There were lots of rooms. Three bathrooms instead of just one. More closets than Sam could count.
He got lost, looking around. It was scary. He had to stand very still and listen until he could hear the sound of the moving men carrying furniture. Then he had to go down a hall, through a room, and down some stairs to find people.
"Hi, Sam," Anastasia said. "Where were you?"
He couldn't answer because he didn't know where he had been.
"Lost," he whispered and took Anastasia's hand.
She laughed. "I'll show you where your bedroom will be," she said. "Come on."
She took him back up the stairs, down a hall, and into a big empty room with blue wallpaper. A closet door was open, and he could see the huge empty closet, exactly the kind of closet that monsters would live in, Sam was sure.
"Here," Anastasia said. "This will be your room, and you're going to have a real bed, like a big boy, instead of a crib."
Sam put his thumb into his mouth. The room was very, very big. "Not my crib with the clowns painted on it?" he asked in a small voice.
"Nope. You're too big for that now."
"Will your bed be here, too?" he asked his sister, talking carefully around his thumb.
"Nope. My room's on the third
"A dollar!" she said. "Finders keepers!"
That was okay. Sam found four pennies.
"What's
this?
" Mrs. Krupnik asked, with a look on her face that meant "yuck." She poked something with the toe of her sandal.
"I dunno," Anastasia said. "It's something gross."
Sam knew what it was. But he didn't tell them. It was part of a lunch that he hadn't wanted to eat, once, quite a long time ago. Tuna fish sandwich. When he had stuffed it under the couch, he had thought it would disappear forever.
He began to remember all the other things he had hidden in other places. A vitamin pill under the washing machine. A partly chewed cucumber. He had poked that under the radiator in Dad's study.
And broccoli. Sam hated broccoli. Every time they had broccoli for dinner, Sam waited until no one was looking, and he hid his broccoli in his lap or his pocket. Then, later, he tucked it under the corner of the living room rug and squashed it down carefully with his foot. There was a whole year's supply of broccoli there by now. A mountain of broccoli, all squashed. Sam had always thought that he would never get to see it again. He had thought that it had disappeared forever.
Now, on moving day, he waited. The living room rug was one of the very last things. Sam had to wait while the movers did everything else: the beds, the desks, the tables and chairs.
Finally, after all the furniture was in the truck, they returned to the living room. One of themâthe one with the blue-and-red dragon tattooâleaned down to begin to roll the end of the rug.
But Mrs. Krupnik stopped him. "No," she said. "Not the rug."
Sam looked at her in surprise. He wanted very much to see what had happened to his broccoli, especially now that he had seen how his tuna fish sandwich had turned an interesting shade of blue.
"We're leaving the rug here," his mom told the moving man. The man shrugged and dropped the edge of the rug back down on the floor.
"Why?" Sam asked. "Why can't we take the rug?"
"Dad and I bought a new rug for the living room in the new house," his mom said. "We'll leave this one for the people who move in here. They can decide what to do with it."
"Why? Why don't we keep it?"
His mom frowned. She kicked at the rug with her toe. "It's gotten old," she said. "I used to like this rug. The color is so nice. But somehow, it's lost its shape. It doesn't lie flat the way it should. We'll just leave it as a surprise for the next people," she told Sam. "Maybe they'll be really happy to have a free rug."
And broccoli, Sam thought. Lots of free broccoli, too.
The new house was very, very different from the old apartment.
It was much, much bigger.
There were three floors instead of just one. Front stairs and back stairs.
There were lots of rooms. Three bathrooms instead of just one. More closets than Sam could count.
He got lost, looking around. It was scary. He had to stand very still and listen until he could hear the sound of the moving men carrying furniture. Then he had to go down a hall, through a room, and down some stairs to find people.
"Hi, Sam," Anastasia said. "Where were you?"
He couldn't answer because he didn't know where he had been.
"Lost," he whispered and took Anastasia's hand.
She laughed. "I'll show you where your bedroom will be," she said. "Come on."
She took him back up the stairs, down a hall, and into a big empty room with blue wallpaper. A closet door was open, and he could see the huge empty closet, exactly the kind of closet that monsters would live in, Sam was sure.
"Here," Anastasia said. "This will be your room, and you're going to have a real bed, like a big boy, instead of a crib."
Sam put his thumb into his mouth. The room was very, very big. "Not my crib with the clowns painted on it?" he asked in a small voice.
"Nope. You're too big for that now."
"Will your bed be here, too?" he asked his sister, talking carefully around his thumb.
"Nope. My room's on the third
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