Being the Adventures of a Knowledgeable Stingray, a Toughy Little Buffalo, and Someone Called Plastic Read Online Free PDF Page B

squeeze out as much of the water as possible. Then he and Sheep hang TukTuk back up and help StingRay to a nice sunny spot by the window in the bedroom, where she can dry herself the rest of the way.
    StingRay can barely mutter “Thank you”—but Lumphy and Sheep don’t mind.
    … …
    The Little Girl’s mommy has industrial-strength tape and a bicycle pump. When the family gets home from the beach, she brings Plastic down to the basement, tapes her puncture shut, and pumps her full of air.
    Plastic is carried upstairs to the bedroom good as new, except for the small patch of clear tape covering the hole. She can sense it whenever she rolls—a slightly lumpy feeling—but she hopes no one else will notice.
    It is excellent to have her bounce back.
    It will be excellent to see Lumphy.
    It will be excellent to see the sheep.
    It will even be excellent to see StingRay, in spite of the mean thing she said about hoping Plastic went to the beach and never came back.
    As soon as the Girl’s mommy puts her on the bedroom rug and heads back downstairs, Plastic starts singing a song she made up in the car on the way home:
    “I’m a small ball, small ball, small ball!
    Not a snowball, snowball, snowball!
Not a meatball, meatball, meatball!
Not an eyeball, eyeball, eyeball!”
    But she stops after a while, because nobody is listening. Lumphy, Sheep, and the toy mice are all clustered around the rocking horse in the corner, discussing whether or not it would be safe to try to use a hair dryer on StingRay.
    “Lumphy!” cries Plastic. “Beach, beach, beach!”
    “How was it?” Lumphy turns around.
    “Yippee!” cries Plastic. “I floated and floated.”
    “Did you see fish?”
    “Sharks!” says Plastic. “With big long legs and waggly tails. They were running all over.”
    “Wow.” Lumphy is impressed. “Did the ocean go on forever?”
    “Forever and ever.”
    “Was it much bigger than the pond?”
    “A zillion times bigger.”
    Then Plastic spots StingRay, all damp on the window-sill. “What happened?” she whispers. “She’s so soggy!”
    Lumphy explains about the tub.
    “Poor StingRay!” Plastic remembers how it felt without her bounce—how she could hardly roll, and how she doesn’t want anyone to know. She thinks about how Lumphy is not quite a real buffalo, and StingRay is not quite a real stingray—but how she is a real ball, and can do all the stuff that balls can do.
    She feels lucky.
    “Did you know there is more than one kind of stingray?” wonders Plastic in a loud voice, loud enough for StingRay to hear all the way over by the window. “I read it in the animal book,” she lies. “There are water stingrays and dry-clean-only stingrays. Dry-clean-only ones are bigger and stronger and much better-looking. And they live onland, and other animals look up to them because they know a lot of stuff. Which kind is our StingRay, I wonder?”
    “Dry clean only,” says StingRay in a small voice from the windowsill, feeling a tiny bit proud for the first time in a good while. “It says so on my tag.”
    “I thought so,” says Plastic. “Because you’re awfully big and you know so much.”
    There is a pause. “It’s nice to have you home,” says StingRay.
    “Really?” asks Plastic.
    “Yes,” says StingRay. “It was very un-bouncy around here without you.”

CHAPTER FIVE

How Lumphy Got on the Big High Bed and Lost Something Rather Good-Looking
    E very night, StingRay goes up on the big high bed to sleep. Lumphy, Plastic, the one-eared sheep, and the toy mice all stay on the floor.
    The bed is a nice place to be. It has a warm patchwork quilt and four fluffy pillows. On the table next to it stand a glass of water and a stack of books.
    Every night, StingRay gets to cuddle with the Little Girl. StingRay even goes under the covers.
    Lumphy has only been on the bed for short visits, and Plastic has never been up there at all.
    “Why you, every single night?” asks Lumphy, when StingRay