#12 - Claudia and the New Girl
So I had looked forward to sitting for the Rodowskys that day. Nevertheless, I glanced up warily at the sound of Jackie’s “whoops” that afternoon. I knew it meant trouble of some sort. I was in the kitchen rinsing off dishes from the boys’ afternoon snack. As I shut off the water, I heard the vacuum cleaner being turned off.
“Jackie?” I called. “Archie? Shea?”
“Um, we’re in the dining room,” said Shea as the vacuum cleaner whined into silence. Shea sounded as if he were admitting to the Great Train Robbery.
I dashed into the dining room. There I found Jackie peering into the hose of the vacuum cleaner as Shea and Archie looked on guiltily. All three boys were barefoot. Their shoes were lined up under the dining room table.
“What is going on?” I asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.
“We tried a speriment,” said Jackie. “And guess what? You can vacuum up socks.”
“Socks?!” I exclaimed. “Did you vacuum up all of your socks?”
“Six of ‘em,” said Archie. “Three pairs, six socks.”
I groaned.
“We didn’t mean to, exactly,” spoke up Shea. “They were in a pile. We thought maybe the vacuum would just get one, but they all went. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh,” he said, demonstrating with his hands.
“Shea, really. You’re the oldest,” I said, knowing that didn’t mean a thing. (Why should it?)
“It was Jackie’s idea,” he countered.
“Well, what did you plan to do about your sock if it was vacuumed up?” I asked Jackie.
“See what happened to it,” he replied simply.
This wasn’t getting us anywhere. “All right,” I said, sighing. “The next thing to do is find the socks.”
“Goody!” cried Jackie, jumping up and down. “I wonder what they’ll look like.”
“Maybe the Vacuum Monster attacked them. Maybe they’ll be all chewed up,” suggested Archie.
I was just dying to ask Archie what he thought the Vacuum Monster was, but I didn’t want to start anything. Instead, I lifted the cover of the vacuum, pulled out the dusty bag at the back, and headed into the kitchen with it. The boys trailed behind me.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jackie.
“Cut it open and see what’s inside,” I replied.
“Awesome,” said Shea.
I took a look. Nothing but a cloud of dust.
“Ew, gross,” said Jackie, and sneezed.
I threw the bag away and returned to the vacuum cleaner. I noticed that the boys hadn’t put an attachment on the end of the hose. Gingerly I reached into the hose as far as possible, which really wasn’t very far, and withdrew my hand, a sock between my fingers. The sock was rumpled but otherwise fine.
The Rodowskys looked on in surprise.
“I wonder why the Vacuum Monster didn’t want it,” said Archie.
“Some experiment,” commented Shea.
It took more than fifteen minutes, but after poking, prodding, and digging around with a pair of toast tongs, I managed to remove all the socks from the hose.
“Jackie?” I called. “Archie? Shea?”
“Um, we’re in the dining room,” said Shea as the vacuum cleaner whined into silence. Shea sounded as if he were admitting to the Great Train Robbery.
I dashed into the dining room. There I found Jackie peering into the hose of the vacuum cleaner as Shea and Archie looked on guiltily. All three boys were barefoot. Their shoes were lined up under the dining room table.
“What is going on?” I asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.
“We tried a speriment,” said Jackie. “And guess what? You can vacuum up socks.”
“Socks?!” I exclaimed. “Did you vacuum up all of your socks?”
“Six of ‘em,” said Archie. “Three pairs, six socks.”
I groaned.
“We didn’t mean to, exactly,” spoke up Shea. “They were in a pile. We thought maybe the vacuum would just get one, but they all went. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh,” he said, demonstrating with his hands.
“Shea, really. You’re the oldest,” I said, knowing that didn’t mean a thing. (Why should it?)
“It was Jackie’s idea,” he countered.
“Well, what did you plan to do about your sock if it was vacuumed up?” I asked Jackie.
“See what happened to it,” he replied simply.
This wasn’t getting us anywhere. “All right,” I said, sighing. “The next thing to do is find the socks.”
“Goody!” cried Jackie, jumping up and down. “I wonder what they’ll look like.”
“Maybe the Vacuum Monster attacked them. Maybe they’ll be all chewed up,” suggested Archie.
I was just dying to ask Archie what he thought the Vacuum Monster was, but I didn’t want to start anything. Instead, I lifted the cover of the vacuum, pulled out the dusty bag at the back, and headed into the kitchen with it. The boys trailed behind me.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jackie.
“Cut it open and see what’s inside,” I replied.
“Awesome,” said Shea.
I took a look. Nothing but a cloud of dust.
“Ew, gross,” said Jackie, and sneezed.
I threw the bag away and returned to the vacuum cleaner. I noticed that the boys hadn’t put an attachment on the end of the hose. Gingerly I reached into the hose as far as possible, which really wasn’t very far, and withdrew my hand, a sock between my fingers. The sock was rumpled but otherwise fine.
The Rodowskys looked on in surprise.
“I wonder why the Vacuum Monster didn’t want it,” said Archie.
“Some experiment,” commented Shea.
It took more than fifteen minutes, but after poking, prodding, and digging around with a pair of toast tongs, I managed to remove all the socks from the hose.