Prize Problems by Janet Rising

exclaimed Zoe. “One minute she was with us, the next she was gone.”
    â€œShe’s weird!” said Amber.
    â€œWhat were you all talking about?” Mrs. Reeve asked, looking worried rather than angry.
    â€œNot much,” I said. “Grace’s mom, I think.”
    Mrs. Reeve swallowed hard. “Amber, make sure nothing on the barbecue burns. I’ll be right back,” and, plastic novelty apron crackling, Mrs. R. jogged hurriedly toward the house, braids a-bobbing.
    â€œRight,” said Amber, wielding a barbecue fork and stuffing her chest out in mock importance, “I’m in charge!”
    â€œThink again,” I said, helping myself to a sausage and stuffing it into a roll.
    â€œPerhaps she’s ill,” mused Grace.
    â€œWho?” asked Bean.
    â€œEllie of course,” cried Zoe. “You’re like a goldfish, Bean. They have a memory which only lasts about three seconds.”
    â€œHow do you know?” Bean asked with perfect logic. “I mean, you can’t know how long a goldfish’s memory lasts, can you?”
    â€œKnow what?” asked Amber, grinning at me.
    â€œOh, very funny!” said Zoe.
    â€œPerhaps Ellie’s not ill. Perhaps she’s crazy. Perhaps she’s gone absolutely insane!” suggested Amber, darkly. “Mrs. Reeve will have to call the men in white coats to take her away in a straitjacket, and High Grove Farm will be closed down and we’ll all be on the news. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
    â€œWhat’s a straitjacket?” asked Grace.
    â€œIt locks your arms together so you can’t do any harm to yourself or anyone else,” I explained.
    â€œHow do you know that, Pia?” Amber said, her eyes glinting. Two more tendrils of hair escaped the skewer and drifted around her face. “Have you been restrained by one? Do you have a dark history you’d hate us to know about?”
    â€œShe murders people who get on her nerves,” said Bean. “So I’d shut up if I were you.”
    â€œShhh, they’re coming back,” said Grace and we all turned to see Ellie and Mrs. Reeve coming toward us. That Ellie had been crying was obvious. Her eyes were red and puffy and she sniffed a lot.
    â€œOK girls, let’s get dig in to this barbecue,” said Mrs. Reeves, a bit over-brightly. “Oh,” she continued, as she spotted the almost empty rack over the glowing charcoal, “I see you’ve helped yourselves.”
    â€œWe were starving!” said Bean. “But we’ve saved you some, Ellie. Here, have a burger.”
    There were no explanations and it was clear that questions were not to be asked so nothing more was said. I really couldn’t take to Ellie; she’d done nothing to endear herself to anyone on this vacation. She was either going on about getting a show jumping pony and bragging about her riding at home or she was all quiet and sulky. I couldn’t figure her out at all.
    After eating a burger, some salad and a decent amount of chocolate chip ice cream, Ellie was back to her usual, irritating self. Almost. The mood had lightened considerably due to one of Mrs. R.’s braids dangling into the barbecue and catching fire. Quick-thinking Amber had doused the flames by emptying her can of Coke over them. The sight of Mrs. Reeve with her one blond braid and one, singed and dripping gave us all the giggles.
    I was beginning to feel a bit strange, having spent every waking hour of the last two days with the same half-a-dozen or so people, so I took myself off to sit on a swing someone had fashioned out of a plank and two ropes hanging from a tree, and flipped open my cell phone. I was missing Drummer and was suddenly desperate to hear from Katy.
    I had two messages: one from Dad, saying he hoped I was having a great time and that he and Lyn would like us all to get together when I was home again (boohoo!). The other was from James.