Puppet Pandemonium Read Online Free PDF

having to worry about the traffic. But I didn't see a lot of traffic. Maybe there weren't many cars in Texas.
    “We'll take a spin through town before we head for home,” Dad said.
    “Sounds good to me. It's been a while since I've seen it,” Mom said. We drove past a supermarket. “Oh, look,” she said. “There's a garden center next to that store.” Mom loved flowers, and Dad had told her that our house had flower beds where she could grow all the flowers she wanted next spring.
    “Over there is the town square,” Dad said, pointing to a group of buildings. I looked out the window and saw shops around a big building that stood in the center of the square: an ice cream parlor, a Dollar General, a bookstore, and a couple of restaurants. Some older kids were riding skateboards in front of a video store, but I didn't see anyone who looked my age.
    “I bet when kids get old enough to move, they're outta here,” I said. “This place looks boring.”
    “That's not true, Baker,” Dad said. “Some people stay here a lifetime.”
    “You left, didn't you, Mr. Kennedy?”
    I saw Dad's eyes cut to the rearview mirror. Waldo was sitting beside me. I had taken him out of my backpack when I got into the car.
    “Who's the smart aleck with you?” Dad asked.
    “My one and only friend in town,” I said. “His name is Waldo. Waldo Peppernickle.”
    “You better tell Mr. Peppernickle to cool it or I might use him for firewood.”
    “Yikes,” Waldo said, spinning his head in circles.
    On the corner of the square there was a bakery, and delicious aromas drifted inside our car.
    “I'm starving,” I said. “Airline peanuts and sodas don't cut it for lunch.”
    “Yeah,” Waldo said. “I'll take a double cheeseburger, hold the mayo, fries, and an extra-large chocolate shake.”
    Dad started laughing. “Listen, Waldo, if you plan on staying around here, you better shape up.” Waldo's head spun around again, and he blinked.
    “Just a couple more things,” Dad said, “and then we'll go home. Check out the opera house—they have plays and musicals on weekends.”
    “Baker, maybe Gram can come and give her puppet shows there,” Mom said.
    “I don't think Ricky sings opera.” My stomach growled.
    “The building in the center is the courthouse. It's one hundred and twenty years old,” Dad said. “It's built with Texas limestone. There's a huge bell in the tower.” I stuck my head out the window to get a better look. There were small booths surrounding the courtyard. Signs, too, but I couldn't make them out.
    “The bell rings on special occasions,” Dad continued. “On high school graduation night, six of us climbed to the top of the courthouse and rang it. We almost lost our diplomas over that little prank. Afterwe got caught, it wasn't that much fun.” Dad laughed. “My father grounded me all summer.”
    “Wow,” I said. “I'll remember that when I'm a senior.”
    “Not if you value your life,” Mom said. “You'll do no such thing.”
    “I think we were the last class ever to ring that bell,” Dad said. “Now the place is guarded closer than a jail-house. But Franklin does have a bell ringer during parades and other special occasions, like when the high school team wins big football games. The mayor grants permission.”
    “Cool,” I said.
    “Some folks say you can hear that bell ring all the way to Buffalo Gulch. But I wouldn't swear to it,” Dad said.
    “Buffalo Gulch?” I repeated. It sounded very Wild West.
    “It's a town about twenty-five miles from here. Buffalo Gulch is Franklin's biggest rival in everything. Franklin and Buffalo Gulch are getting ready for the county fall festival. That's why you see so many booths going up around the square.
    “It's a lot of fun. The festival has been going on for many years. In small towns, traditions don't die easily,” Dad said. He turned the car around and we headed to our new home.
    Mom and I were eager to see where we'd be living.Dad had told