Kristy and the Walking Disaster by Ann M. Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

that
    grosses me out: very loose teeth. Especially bloody ones.
    Claudia knows that. She stepped over to look in Jackie's mouth. "It's so loose it could practically fall out," she said. "Do you want me to pull it for you, Jackie? I've got a Kleenex right here."
    Oh, oh, ew.
    "All right," agreed Jackie.
    The entire team crowded around to watch the proceedings. Not me, though. I stood as far away as possible. I pretended to check on our equipment.
    A few minutes later, I saw the kids disperse. Jackie held up a tissue. "My tooth's in here, Coach!" he announced. He ran over to me and smiled a gap-toothed, slightly bloody smile. "I just love losing teeth."
    Ew. I never liked losing teeth. I'm glad I'm past that stage. "Put the Kleenex and your tooth in your pocket," I told Jackie.
    We played another inning, and I must say that everybody played harder than before. The kids tried hard, too, just like Mallory and Claudia said the four Krushers had done in the game against the triplets.
    But it was getting late.
    "I think this game is over," I said at the end
    of the inning. "How many of you guys have bought T-shirts and iron-on letters?"
    Most of the kids raised their hands.
    "Good," I told them. "Try to wear your shirts to our next practice. Then we'll really look like a team, and everyone will know we're the Krushers."
    The kids began to leave. Charlie arrived to pick up Karen, Andrew, David Michael, and me, and take us to our homes. (Karen and Andrew were going to their mom's house.) After they'd been dropped off, I began to daydream. I daydreamed about Bart. I'd been doing that a lot lately.
    An idea came to me.
    "Hey, David Michael," I said, "want me to walk Shannon for you tonight?"
    David Michael loves Shannon, but he also loves getting out of his chores.
    "Sure!" he replied. Then he narrowed his eyes. "What do I have to do for you?" he asked suspiciously.
    Do for me? I hadn't thought about that, but what an opportunity.
    "Umm ..." I replied slowly, "learn five signs you need to know to play ball with Matt Braddock. Call Nicky Pike and ask him for help, okay?"
    "Okay!"
    David Michael thought he'd gotten the better part of the deal, but I knew that (with any luck) I had.
    When supper was over that night, I found Shannon in the den, chewing on a rubber toy that looked like a steak.
    "Want to go for a W-A-L-K?" I asked her.
    We started spelling walk so Shannon wouldn't get all excited and think she was going out every time she heard the word. But we spelled it so often that Shannon has figured out what W-A-L-K means.
    She abandoned the toy, leaped to her feet, and bounded to the back door, where I clipped on her leash. Then I told Mom and Watson that I was going to walk Shannon, and I set off. I wasn't just walking Shannon, though. I was walking Shannon by Bart Taylor's house. Pretty clever, huh?
    I thought so. So I was totally surprised when, only halfway over there, who should I see coming toward me, but Bart! He was walking a rottweiler on this chain that could have tethered a lion. (In case you don't know, a rottweiler is your basic, gigantic dog. Next to Bart's dog, Shannon looked like a mouse.)
    Bart and I spotted each other at the same time and called, "Hi!" Then we both slowed
    down. We weren't sure how our dogs would behave.
    "This is Twinkle," Bart said. "He looks fierce, but he wouldn't hurt a flea."
    "And Shannon," I replied, "won't believe that Twinkle wouldn't hurt a flea . . . but let's see what happens."
    Poor Shannon approached Twinkle with her tail tucked between her legs. The dogs circled each other and sniffed, and Shannon discovered she was so little she could walk right under Twinkle, which Bart and I thought was pretty funny. When we realized that the dogs were going to be okay, we stood there on the sidewalk as night fell, and began to talk.
    I told Bart how the Krushers were doing.
    Bart laughed.
    "What?" I asked.
    "I don't believe it. My team's called the Bashers. The Bashers and the Krushers!"
    It was