14

Fergie spun around. She let out a frightened cry.

"Here they come!" I shrieked.

Fergie froze in terror. "Oh, no! Help me, Cooper! I told you! I'm afraid of dogs!"

"Run!" I shouted at her. "Run!"

In a flash, Fergie dashed past me. I've never seen anyone run so fast.

She ran about ten steps. Then her hands flew up as she tripped over a rock.

She uttered a shrill cry of panic and went sprawling on the ground.

I had to laugh. "Got you back!" I cried gleefully.

"Huh?" Fergie lifted her head.

"I got you back," I repeated. "For playing that mean trick on me. For helping Mickey."

I watched as the color slowly returned to Fergie's face. "You scared me to death," she muttered. "How could you play such a horrible joke?"

"Easy," I replied, still grinning.

Fergie growled at me. "I told you, it wasn't totally my fault. Your brother said you played tricks on each other all the time." Then she stood up and shook her head. "That was mean, Cooper. Really mean."

I shrugged. "Yeah. I know. But now we're even."

Fergie brushed some dirt off her jeans and examined a scrape on her elbow. "You know, we should both get back at Mickey," she said.

"I've been thinking about that all morning," I told her. "And yesterday, too. Mickey's been playing really mean tricks on me since we moved here. And I have to get back at him. But it has to be something totally awesome."

We walked along the stream a while longer, trying to figure out how to get back at Mickey. Then Fergie found the arrowhead rock.

She climbed up first, and I followed. It was a big, craggy rock, great for climbing.

We hung out on the rock, thinking up ways to get Mickey back. Fergie wanted to drag him deep into the woods blindfolded and leave him stranded. But I didn't think that would scare Mickey one bit.

I jumped off the rock and began circling it. Sometimes I think better on my feet.

On my third trip around, I got my foot caught in a thick, leafy plant. I glanced down — and cried out. "Oh, perfect! I'm standing in poison ivy!"

Fergie laughed. "It only looks like poison ivy," she assured me. "My science teacher checked it out last year. She told us it's a harmless weed."

I smiled a really evil smile.

"I think I have a great idea. What if we pulled out a bunch of this stuff? What if it somehow ended up in Mickey's bed? Would he freak — or what?"

"He might," Fergie agreed, grinning down at me.

We gathered a bunch of the weeds. They grew all along the stream. So we picked some more as we walked slowly back to my house.

Just past the stream, Fergie showed me a clearing in the trees I hadn't noticed before. A small clearing filled with wildflowers.

I knew right away Mom would flip out if she saw them. She always bought flowers at the Faneuil Hall market back in Boston. I started to pick some for her.

I reached down for a few pretty violet and yellow flowers when something moving through the trees caught my eye. I glanced up just in time to see Mickey stagger into the clearing.

Fergie and I both cried out when we spotted him.

Mickey's clothes were ripped and shredded. Dark scratches covered his face and arms. And bright red blood trickled down his neck.

"Cooper," he croaked weakly, barely able to talk. "Cooper — the dogs — "

Those were the last words he spoke before he crumpled to the ground.

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