Forced us! We couldnât help it!â
âYou pretty birds know this bungled nose job?â Marcos asked.
The Amys nodded. âUh-huh! His name is Squeeze!â
âSneeze,â I corrected.
âUh-huh!â The Amys nodded again. âHis best friend is Burp.â
âHiccup,â I corrected.
âHeâs a brilliant inventor! He invented the Friendly Alarm!â
âWhatever,â I said with a surrendering flap of my hand.
âItâs going to make him rich and famous,â the Amys said.
âFamous and rich!â agreed the Amys.
âHow very interesting.â Marcos popped a peppermint into his mouth. âTell me more. What exactly is this alarm? What does it do?â
âSneeze can explain much better than we can!â
âBetter yet, he could give a demonstration!â
âYes, a demonstration would be much better!â
âSure,â I said, flickering my eyelashes in what I hoped was Morse code for SOS . âIâm glad youâve come to my aid . I desperately need your assistance .â
âYouâve never wanted our assistance before,â said the Amys.
âNever,â the Amys said.
âSituations change.â I tried to wiggle my eyebrows into arrows, pointing at Marcos. âThe unexpected happens and now I need HELP .â
In a dim cranny of the Amysâ brains, a night-light switched on.
âHelp? Of course! Our pleasure!â
âWeâd be delighted, of course!â
The Amys clenched Marcos around the waist and shoved him aside. âStand here, gorgeous. Pretend youâre the alarm.â
Marcos squirmed and unleashed a rough laugh. âWatch it!â
âHeâs ticklish!â the Amys said. âIsnât that cute ?â
âAdorable!â agreed the Amys.
They shoved Goon #2 in front of him. âYouâre the handsome prince who the alarm will awaken from a deep sleep.â
âWith a smooch?â His arm encircled an Amyâs waist.
âKeep your flippers to yourself for a second and close your eyes. Can you snore?â
âMmmrrrggggzzz-zzz!â
âWindow-shattering,â the Amys said.
âWall-buckling,â agreed the Amys.
They faced Goons #3 and #4. âYou two hunks can be the princeâs brothers. You spent a wild night doing hip-hop in the pond. Close those eyes. All together now: Snore! â
âZZZZZZZZzzzzZZZZZZZ!â
âMmmrrrggggzzzzzz!â
âSNNNNerrrrrrrrrcckk!â
âAwesome!â
âRadical!â
The Amys whispered to me, âGet ready.â
Whispered the Amys: âGet set.â
âRaise your right arm,â the Amys told Marcos. âHigher. Better raise your other arm too. Perfect! Now open your mouth and close your eyes, and you will get a big surprise!â
âFroggies, keep snoring!â the Amys instructed. âWhen I count to threeââ
âFroggies?â said Marcos. âI thought they were princes.â
âONETWOTHREE!â the Amys yelped.
âTHREETWOONE!â yelped the Amys.
The girls attacked with ferocious tickles.
Marcos and Goon #2 contorted to escape the onslaught while their team members snored with continued fervor.
I filched my packâand ran.
I glanced back only once, hollering: âThanks, Amys! I owe you!â
âNope,â hollered the Amys. âWeâre even now!â
âEven-Steven!â The Amysâ fingers dove again into Marcosâs armpits.
âGetâhimâ!â Marcos choked, cap tumbling. With an angry convulsive ha-ha-ow, he collapsed against his cronies and I ran on . . .
Â
After sprinting several blocks, I slowed to a trot, clutching a stitch in my side. Still two miles to Jefferson Middle and I needed to pace myself.
I arrived just before lunch period ended. I squeezed through a misshapen section of chain-link fence and hurried to the pine tree behind the gym, where I