Moving Day Read Free Page A

the Dairy Queen that we could walk there after supper.”
    “Like, for dessert?” Mark asked. This is another thing Mark thinks about all the time. Bugs, trucks, and dessert.
    Also, sports. Such as football. Or anything with a ball, really.
    “Right,” Mom said. “After dinner. We could just get up and take a walk to Dairy Queen.”
    We all—Mark, Kevin, and I—looked at each other in astonishment. Walk to Dairy Queen? Every night?
    This was almost too much to believe. A kitten and Dairy Queen? Every night?
    “ If you guys finish everything on your plates,” Dad added.
    “Maybe,” Mom said, slowly, “we could drive by and see the new house tonight. On our way back from Dairy Queen.”
    “I don’t know,” Dad said. “I don’t think these kids are really that interested in seeing the new house.”
    “ I am,” Mark said, leaning forward in his seat. “ I’m interested in seeing the new house.”
    “I want to see the new house, too,” Kevin said.
    “How about you, Allie?” Mom asked. “Are you interested in seeing the new house, too?”
    I had to think about that. On the one hand, I was interested in a new kitten. I was interested in Dairy Queen every night and in getting a new best friend.
    On the other hand, I was not interested in starting a new school or in getting rid of my rock collection.
    Still, if the new house was really that close to Dairy Queen…
    “Well,” I said. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see it…”
    It didn’t seem like the Dairy Queen people could make our ice-cream cones fast enough. It seemed like it took them forever. And all we got was our usuals—chocolate-vanilla twist chocolate dip for me, vanilla twist cherry dip for Mark, and vanilla twist butterscotch dip for Kevin, a diet root beer float for Dad, and a sugar-free Dilly Bar for Mom.
    Still, it seemed like it took two hours for them to get our order ready, and for Dad to pay, and for Mom to get enough napkins from the dispenser in casesomebody spilled in the car (I said somebody , but Mark is always the one who spills, usually all down the front of his shirt), and for everyone to get back in the car and to get their seat belts on without spilling, and for Dad to go, “Is everybody ready? Does anybody want to drive by the new house?” and for us all to go, “YES!” and for him to go, “Okay! Here we go.”
    And then we were turning around the corner—right around the corner! That’s really where the new house was, right around the corner from the Dairy Queen—and Mom was going, in an excited voice, “There it is, kids, there it is, right there on the left, see it? See it?”
    And we all looked at the new place where we were going to live.
    And I don’t know about everyone else, but I for one nearly threw up what I’d eaten so far of my ice cream.
    Because the new house was not very nice-looking.
    In fact, it looked the opposite of nice. It looked very big and creepy sitting there on the street. All the windows—and there were a lot of them—were dark and sort oflooked like eyes staring down at us. There were a lot of big trees around the house, too, with twisted branches that were swaying in the wind.
    There are no big trees in Walnut Knolls. That’s because only nine years ago, when I was born, Walnut Knolls was all fields and farmland. None of the trees the developers planted have had a chance to grow much yet.
    “Mom,” I said.
    “Isn’t it great ?” Mom said, all excitedly. “Look at the gingerbread trim around the front porch! And how exciting is the fact that we even have a front porch, where we can sit outside and enjoy the summer breeze?”
    “And have ice cream,” Mark said. “Right? We can sit out there and enjoy ice cream.” Because ice cream is all Mark thinks about. Besides bugs and trucks and sports.
    “We sure can,” Mom said. “And see that bay window on the third floor in the front? That’ll be your room, Allie.”
    My room looked darkest and creepiest of all.
    “Those