Mailbox Mania Read Free

explained. “We have some problems. Carly and Jimmy are mad at me. Jason and Eric are fighting. And Dee Dee asked Dunkum for help.”
    â€œWhy should Dee Dee get help?” Stacy asked.
    â€œShe’s little, that’s why,” Dunkum said.
    Stacy shook her head.
    Abby was worried. Would Dunkum and Stacy start arguing, too? “What should we do?” she asked. “Do we need to vote about Dee Dee or what?”
    Dunkum looked around. “There aren’t enough members here.”
    Shawn agreed. “Only four kids.”
    â€œWell,” Stacy huffed. “What’s Dee Dee making that’s so hard?”
    Dunkum spoke up. “She’s making an Abe Lincoln mailbox. With a top hat and beard.”
    â€œYou’re kidding,” Stacy said. “She should’ve asked me ! I’m the artist on the block.”
    â€œBut I live closer,” Dunkum insisted.
    Stacy’s eyes were tiny slits. “That doesn’t mean anything!” She got up and hurried down the street—to Dee Dee’s.
    â€œHey! Wait!” Dunkum called.
    But Stacy kept going.
    â€œWell,” Abby said, “I guess that’s the end of our meeting.”
    â€œCul-de-sac Kids do not stick together. Not anymore,” Shawn said. His eyes looked sad.
    Dunkum left without saying goodbye.
    Abby didn’t know what to think. Were the Cul-de-sac Kids falling apart?
    She sat on the swing next to Shawn. “Now what?”
    â€œIn Korea, we talk to wise people,” Shawn said. “Older people—like grandfather or grandmother—are wise.”
    Abby thought of someone like that. “Maybe Mr. Tressler can help. He’s old and wise!” She looked at Shawn. “You’re a great brother!”
    Shawn smiled. “Abby great sister . . . and friend.”
    Then Abby hurried to the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.
    Could Mr. Tressler help?
    Abby would find out soon enough!

EIGHT
    Abby ran to Mr. Tressler’s house.
    The old gentleman was having a snooze.
    He snored softly.
    Abby crept up the porch steps and sat down. I’ll wait here till he wakes up, she thought .
    While she sat, she remembered happier days. Lots of happy days.
    Not long ago, the Cul-de-sac Kids were getting along. They’d made Father’s Day gifts. And had an Easter pet parade.They’d even solved a mystery— The Crazy Christmas Angel Mystery .
    Best of all, they were true friends.
    But something had gone wrong. Crazy-wrong.
    Abby glanced over at Mr. Tressler. Could he help?
    Snortle-choke!
    Mr. Tressler awoke.
    â€œI didn’t mean to startle you,” Abby said.
    He’d slumped down in his chair. Slowly, he reached for his cane. He pushed himself up a bit.
    â€œAre you okay?” Abby asked, getting up.
    â€œJust a bit dazed,” he admitted. “But now that you’re here, I’m fine. Sit down, missy.” He patted the chair next to him.
    Abby smiled. Her friend had a charming way about him. He could turn problems into pudding—sometimes.
    Abby didn’t spring her questions onhim right away. She sat in the patio chair and chatted with him.
    They talked about the sunny summer day. They listened to the chirp-chip-chirping of the robins. And they laughed together.
    Soon, it was time for lunch.
    Time had passed so quickly. Abby hadn’t asked Mr. Tressler anything. Not one word about the fighting in the cul-de-sac.
    â€œAbby!” her mother called from the porch.
    Abby could see Shawn and Jimmy running toward her house. “Well, I better go,” she said.
    â€œThat’s a girl.” Mr. Tressler nodded. “Never keep your mother waiting.”
    She started to say something else. But she spotted Dunkum chasing Stacy. More trouble!
    Stacy carried long black strands of yarn in her hand. Dunkum ran after herwearing a stovepipe hat. Dee Dee was right behind them—yelling!
    â€œWhat’s this about?” Abby muttered.
    Mr.