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Authors: Zilpha Keatley Snyder

The Gypsy Game

BOOK: The Gypsy Game
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For more than forty years,
Yearling has been the leading name
in classic and award-winning literature
for young readers.

Yearling books feature children’s
favorite authors and characters,
providing dynamic stories of adventure,
humor, history, mystery, and fantasy.

Trust Yearling paperbacks to entertain,
inspire, and promote the love of reading
in all children.

OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY

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GIRL COMING IN FOR A LANDING
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Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books a division of Random House, Inc., New York

Copyright © 1997 by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address Delacorte Press.

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www.zksnyder.com

eISBN: 978-0-307-83328-0

Reprinted by arrangement with Delacorte Press

v3.1

TO EVERYONE WHO ASKED FOR ANOTHER GAME
WITH THE SAME PLAYERS

One

“NOT VERY MUCH, I guess. Why?”

That was the first thing Melanie said when April asked her if she knew anything about Gypsies. April didn’t answer. A minute or so later Melanie waved her hand in front of April’s eyes and said, “Hey, anybody home? Come back to earth.” Still no answer. April just went on staring into space.

They had been lying on their stomachs across the bed in April’s room, digesting their Christmas dinners and talking about the presents they’d gotten and other Christmas stuff. Not talking all the time, but just once in a while when they felt like it. That was one of the good things about being the kind of friends they were. Sometimes, when they were together, they gabbed their heads off, and sometimes not. Either way it always felt okay.

So when it took a long time for April to say why she’d asked the Gypsy question, it didn’t surprise Melanie all that much. She knew that when April’s blue eyes got that spacey look it usually meant that she was on to something new and exciting, and if you waited long enough, you were sure to hear all about it. So Melanie waited. While she waited, she had time to sit up, scratch the mosquito bite on
her ankle, make a face at herself in the mirror on April’s dressing table, and flop back down again.

Finally April sighed and said, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just what you said about it not being the same. Going back and doing the same things over and over. You know, all that Egyptian stuff. And just the other day I was reading this magazine that had all this great stuff about Gypsies. I was just thinking how maybe we could …” She sat up, shoved back a straggle of blond hair, grinned at Melanie, and went on, “I was thinking that maybe we could try being Gypsies for a change.”

If Melanie wasn’t too thrilled by the idea right at first, it was probably just because she was so used to being Egyptian. Remembering, she kind of sighed.

April was watching her with narrowed eyes. “Well, what do you think?”

Melanie rolled over on her back. “Oh, I don’t know. I was just remembering things, like that time Ken and Toby almost scared us to death.”

“Yeah, the jerks,” April said, but then she grinned too, and for a moment they both just lay there giggling like a couple of idiots. But then, at the very same moment, they both quit laughing and were quiet again, thinking and remembering. No one had said anything for quite a while when there was a knock on the door and then April’s grandmother’s voice, saying, “Girls. Marshall is here. May he come in?”

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you know it? Wouldn’t you think that for once he’d be able to entertain himself for a few minutes, with all those new Christmas toys and everything?”

But April only shrugged. “Okay, Marshamosis, come on in,” she yelled. A second later Melanie Ross’s four-year-old brother appeared in the doorway, looking especially solemn and dignified in his Christmas bathrobe—red and black plaid with velvet tassels on the belt. The Rosses were African Americans, and both Melanie and Marshall had satiny brown skin and elegant black eyebrows, and today Marshall was looking even more handsome than usual. And—
no
pear-shaped velvet octopus dangling around his neck by two of its eight long legs.

Melanie poked April and whispered, “See. Like I told you. No Security!”

Marshall shut the door carefully behind him, walked across the room, climbed up on the bed, and asked in a businesslike tone of voice, “What are we talking about?”

April grinned. “Security,” she said. “We were just saying, ‘No Security.’ ”

Melanie poked April again and shook her head. Marshall didn’t like being teased, and he particularly hated being teased about Security. As he started to climb down off the bed, his high-arched eyebrows were puckering together and his lips setting into a firm line. April grabbed him by the back of the shirt.

“Come on back, runt,” she said. “I was just kidding. We weren’t really talking about your precious Security. We were just talking about …” She stopped and grinned at Melanie. “Well, actually, we were talking about being Gypsies.”

Marshall looked at April suspiciously.

“That’s right,” Melanie said. “We really were. April was just saying how maybe we could start playing a new
game—about being Gypsies this time instead of Egyptians.”

“Gypsies?” Marshall’s frown had returned. “Do Gypsies have pharaohs? I like being Marshamosis.”

“But you’d like being a Gypsy, too,” Melanie said. “You’d really like … well, you know, doing all those Gypsy things. Tell him, April. Tell him why he’d like being a Gypsy.”

“Well, okay,” April said. “Listen, Marshall. Gypsies are people who go around in caravans. A caravan is like—well, almost like a house trailer, only made of wood and pulled by horses. Or at least they used to be.”

“Horses?” Marshall’s forehead began to unpucker. Marshall, who had lived all his life in a city apartment where most pets weren’t allowed, had this thing about all kinds of animals. Particularly big animals.

“That’s right, horses.” April thought a minute. “And some Gypsies train bears. That’s how they make their living. They have trained bears who dance and do all kinds of tricks, and people pay money to watch the bears.”

“Oh yeah?” Marshall’s face was lighting up like neon when suddenly his eyes narrowed and the smile went out. “Bears?” he asked suspiciously. “Real bears, Melanie?”

Melanie nodded. If April said that Gypsies trained bears, they probably did. April had a special talent for that kind of information.

Marshall quit trying to scoot off the bed and sat back down between April and Melanie. He crossed his legs, smoothed out the front of his bathrobe, and straightened the velvet belt tassels. When he was all arranged, he said, “Okay. Let’s be Gypsies. When do we get the bears?”

April rolled her eyes at Melanie and grinned. Melanie grinned back. “Okay,” she said. “Bears.” She got up and grabbed a pencil and a notebook off April’s desk. It was the notebook they always took to their Egyptian business meetings to take notes about what they were going to do next and what kind of stuff they needed to bring the next time they went to Egypt. Turning to a new page, Melanie began to write. When she finished writing, she showed the page to Marshall.

“See,” she said. “It says here, ‘Bears!!! Get bears for Gypsy Game.’ ” She wiggled her eyebrows at April.

Marshall nodded approvingly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, let’s be Gypsies. I get the first bear.” He thought for a moment, his forehead wrinkling. “Where? Where do you get bears?”

The girls laughed. “Yeah,” Melanie said. “Good question, Marshall.” She looked at April and made her face say, “What do we do now?”

“Well.” April nodded thoughtfully. “Well—yes! I guess the first thing we have to do now is—go to the library.”

Marshall’s eyes rounded in amazement. “They have bears at the library?”

That really cracked them up. By the time they’d stopped laughing, Marshall was mad again. He didn’t like being laughed at. His lower lip was sticking out, and his forehead had started to pucker.

“No, Marshall,” April finally gasped, “they don’t have bears at the library. But we can find out about them there. About bears and Gypsies and all that stuff.”

Marshall slid down off the bed. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.
Right now
.”

Of course they didn’t go
right now
because libraries aren’t open on Christmas Day, but before Melanie and Marshall went home that evening, it was all planned. On Thursday afternoon April would go down to the Rosses’ apartment and get Melanie and Marshall. And then they would stop by to see if Elizabeth wanted to go, too. April wrote it down in her notebook: “GYPSIES 2:00
P.M.
Thursday. Ask Elizabeth.”

BOOK: The Gypsy Game
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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