Claudia and the Bad Joke Read Online Free PDF Page A

me. “This catalogue features rubber chickens and plastic ants.”
          “Great.”
          Betsy flipped through the pages. I had to admit that some of the stuff — especially the selection of whoopee cushions — was kind of funny. By the time we’d finished, I’d calmed down.
          But when Betsy said, “Want some gum?” I was immediately on my guard again.
          “Uh, no,” I replied.
          “Look,” said Betsy, “I’m sorry about the juice. I really am. Here.” She pulled two pieces of gum out of her pocket. She kept the Wrigley’s for herself. She handed me one in a plain white wrapper.
          Well, I might not be a good student, but I’m no fool. I know about trick gum. “Thanks,” I said drily, “but I prefer Wrigley’s. So let’s trade.”
          Betsy frowned. “We-ell . . . all right.”
          We swapped sticks, I peeled off the Wrigley’s wrapper, popped the gum in my mouth, and, “Aughhh! Oh, EW!” I spit the gum out. “It tastes like pepper! That is so hot!” I grabbed for my glass of apple juice and polished it off, but my mouth was still on fire.
          Across from me, Betsy was chewing her own
    gum happily and was in hysterics again. “Gotcha! I gave you trick gum!” she cried. “I switched wrappers! I knew you wouldn’t trust me, so I switched wrappers.”
          “Why should anyone trust you?” I muttered. It was hard to talk.
          I had to do something fast. I was losing control of the situation, and a good baby-sitter always stays in charge. I thought quickly. “Let’s play outside,” I suggested. What could Betsy do to me outside? If she wanted to get any of her tricks, she’d have to go back in the house — and I simply wouldn’t let her.
          “Could we play on my swing set?” asked Betsy.
          “Sure, anything.” I fanned my burning mouth with my hands.
          “Goody!” said Betsy, jumping up. “Let’s go!”
          We put on our jackets, and Betsy ran out her back door. I followed her closely. Betsy’s swing set was not in her backyard, where I’d thought it would be. It was by the side of the house, near the Sobaks’ driveway.
          Betsy jumped onto a swing. She sat there and smiled at me. “You take that one,” she said, pointing to the second of three swings.
          I shrugged. “Okay.”
          Betsy watched me like a hawk as I sat on
    the swing. She was grinning, but after I’d been on the swing for a moment, her smile turned to a frown. What was with her? She was one weird kid. Wait a sec! Maybe she had boobytrapped the swing or something. I wouldn’t put it past her. But I inspected the swing, and it looked fine to me — just a little old.
          “Come on,” I said. “Let’s have a swinging contest. Let’s see who can swing the highest.”
          Betsy immediately began pumping her legs up and down. She really wanted to win. Good. At least her mind was off practical jokes.
          I pumped, too. Betsy and I swung higher and higher. I remembered when 1 was Betsy’s age and believed that it was possible to swing so high you’d circle right over the top of the — CLUNK!
    I      heard a funny, metallic noise. And then the bottom dropped out from under me.
    The chain on the swing had snapped. Oh, lord, I thought.
          You know how sometimes you have an idea that something is going to happen before it actually does happen? I don’t know if you’d call it ESP exactly, but, well, I just knew, without knowing how I knew, that I was going to fall and I was going to be hurt badly.
          I was terrified. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, as if it had jumped up there in
    fear. And before I had time to do a thing — this was all happening in a split second — I was flying through the air. I landed on the driveway — hard — and heard another noise. An awful one. It was a crunch. But the odd thing