Maniac Monkeys on Magnolia Street & When Mules Flew on Magnolia Street by Angela Johnson Page B

was a huge blanket was being tossed on me, and about the whole cabin was screaming that they had caught Bigfoot.…
    I kept screaming that I wasn't Bigfoot and that I was about to smother underneath the blanket.
    Mickey kept screaming, “Listen to Bigfoot! He can talk!”
    By that time the whole camp was awake, and all I could think of was how they'd scared the Camp Margaret ghost out of its skin and no one would believe I'd seen it.
    Well, I'm not allowed to chew gum until the end of camp now. The camp director, Mr. Watson, lectured Mickey and me all about imagination and thought maybe painting the fence alongside the stables might help us burn off some energy.
    You know, I get tired of people thinking I need to burn off energy. I think I'd like to keep my energy for a day when I might need it fall strength. (I needed it when the whole cabin was sitting on me thinking I was Big-foot.)
    It's been a hard last few days. I don't like painting fences so much. Painting people is a whole lot better.
    And the Camp Margaret ghost…
    I know he's still out there—waiting to go home.
    I STILL LOVE CAMP, CHARLIE!
    BUT I HATE FENCES!
    Your friend,
Lump

ear Lump and Billy, (Hope you two don't mind me sending you both the same letter.) I hope you guys got my last letter. I've missed you and can't wait to see you two next week. It hasn't been the same here since Camp FunWa and Camp Margaret grabbed both of you away from Magnolia Street.
    I've met a real fun person from Chicago named Ashley while you two have been away at camp. I know we'll all have fun together when you guys meet her. She likes to plant things, and I'm starting to not mind gardening somuch. I even pick vegetables instead of giving Sid half my allowance to do it for me.
    I'm sorry you guys have been having a few problems at camp, but I know you're having fun anyway. How could you not?
    Not much has been happening in the last couple of days. Ashley is visiting relatives in the country. Everybody has been so busy that mostly I just sit reading underneath the willow trees and drink lemonade all day long.
    My dad says I have what he calls a good life.
    But guess what?
    I've been hanging out with Sid.
    Yeah, my brother, Sid. The one who teases me and plays tricks on me and once even filled my room with so many frogs it took me days to find all of them.
    I shouldn't say not much has been happening. I really meant to say not much is happening
now.
There have been a few things going on.…
    You see, mules have been flying over Magnolia Street.
    No, really.
    Really!
    I didn't know I'd ever see such a thing. My brother, Sid, was the reason it all happened.
    Do you guys ever wake up right as the sun is rising? Do you ever hear the man with the cart rolling down Magnolia Street singing this song?
    Strawberries,
Raspberries,
Blueberries,
Fresh in the crates.
Sweet, sweet melons,
Sweet, sweet grapes.
    Well, even if you never woke up to hear him, you probably ate some of the fruit off his cart,'cause everybody in the neighborhood buys fruit from Mr. Janks.
    I wake up just to listen to him calling through the streets. It wouldn't be summer without him.
    Well, what I didn't know about Mr. Janks is that the mule pulling his cart is called Sweet Shirley and he's had her for twenty years. I finally got to meet her a few days ago.
    She's great. She brays and swishes her tail when she sees me.
    Sid is the one who introduced us all to each other. Sid says he and Mr. Janks have been friends for a long time. They know each other from our old neighborhood. Sid says Mr. Janks used to give him grapes when he'd see Sid on his paper route.
    Who knew Sid was that likable?
    I didn't, but it seems Mr. Janks and Sweet Shirley think so.
    So—I guess you want to know how SweetShirley ended up flying over Magnolia Street.
    In the beginning it's a real sad story.
    You see, one morning Mr. Janks didn't sing on Magnolia Street.
    Then he wasn't there the next day, either.
    Or the next…
    At first I didn't