Emmy and the Rats in the Belfry Read Free Page A

sounded on the bathroom tile. “Oh, no .”
    She turned, hands on her hips. “Emmy, we may have a housekeeper and maids now, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t clean up after yourself when you make a mess.”
    â€œI didn’t spill it!” said Emmy. “Really, I didn’t!”
    â€œYou had better stop saying things you know aren’t true,” her father said heavily. “You’ve been doing too much of that lately. Now get dressed and clean up your room, Emmy. Immediately.”

3
    â€œT HERE !” Mrs. Bunjee dusted her paws and looked at Emmy’s bedroom, tidy once more. “That’s better!”
    â€œRaston didn’t help much,” said Chippy, who had been rolling up socks with Buck.
    The Rat stopped rummaging in Emmy’s desk drawer and poked his head out over the side. “I am too helping. I’m looking for something.”
    Emmy glanced over. “Sorry, Ratty—there aren’t any more peanut-butter cups in there. I ate the last one yesterday.”
    â€œHa!” said Chippy.
    Raston’s ears grew pink at the tips. “Listen, I skipped breakfast. And I’m starving .”
    â€œI offered you acorn pancakes back in Rodent City,” said Mrs. Bunjee tartly. “You said you weren’t hungry.”
    â€œEr …” said the Rat.
    Mrs. Bunjee turned around. “Come along, Buck-ram and Chipster—we need to get back. Don’t forget to meet the professor at the Antique Rat, Emmy.”
    Emmy nodded. Professor Capybara lived above an antique store that he had turned into a lab for his experiments in rodentology. It wasn’t far, but she would have to have breakfast first.
    â€œI wasn’t hungry for pancakes made out of acorns ,” muttered Raston as the chipmunks bounded to the windowsill and out into the morning. “And I wasn’t interested in seed toast or nut juice, either.”
    â€œRasty!” Cecilia looked up from the bathroom tile, where she was scrubbing away at the grout with a toothbrush. “Mrs. Bunjee was very kind—”
    â€œThere’s more to life than whole grains, Sissy!” cried the Rat, flinging out his arms. “There’s a whole world beyond seeds and nuts! There’s chocolate ! There’s raspberry cake and lemon meringue pie and crème brûlée and—and Nesselrode pudding!”
    Emmy tried not to laugh. Long ago, someone had papered the Rat’s cage with pages from Nummi Gourmet , and he had never forgotten the recipes he had read. “Listen, Ratty. I’m sorry about the peanut-butter cups. There are more in the kitchen—I’ll bring some up after breakfast.”
    â€œCan we go downstairs for breakfast, too?” Raston clasped his paws before his chest. “Please please please pleeeeease ? You can hide us in your backpack and drop in pieces of bacon!”
    â€œBacon does sound good,” Cecilia admitted, putting down the toothbrush. “And my paws are getting a little tired.”
    â€œThanks for helping,” said Emmy. “I don’t know how my room got so messed up.” She frowned at the grout, still slightly green. The mouthwash had splashed in droplets all the way across the floor and even into the bedroom. She could see small green spots, almost like a trail, leading all the way to the bed.
    â€œMaybe you were sleepwalking,” said Raston. “Come on, Sissy, get in the backpack!”
    Emmy zipped the backpack partly shut. From the intercom, she could hear muffled sounds: footsteps, a chair scraping? Her parents must have forgotten to turn it off at their end—or the switch was sticking again. She had her hand on the doorknob when she heard her parents’ voices.
    â€œWhat has gotten into her?” Kathy Addison’s voice floated through the intercom, sounding near tears. “She used to be such a trustworthy child, Jim, but lately, I can’t count on