Tree House Trouble Read online

  © 1998 by Beverly Lewis

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2012

  Ebook corrections 04.04.2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6075-8

  Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh

  Text illustrations by Janet Huntington

  To

  Leslie Brinkley

  (Smile!)

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  Back Cover

  ONE

  It was Arbor Day.

  Abby Hunter tiptoed outside. She hid behind the backyard fence. She peeked through wooden boards. She watched Stacy Henry and her grandpa dig a hole. They were planting a tree.

  Abby leaned on the fence, wishing. Wishing and snooping . . . on her own best friend.

  Suddenly, she had a nose tickle.

  A BIG tickle.

  She pinched her nose tight. She held her breath.

  Sneezing and snooping didn’t mix.

  She counted to ten in her head.

  At last, the tickle went away.

  Now Abby could snoop. Stacy and her grandpa were laughing and talking. They were having a double dabble good time.

  Soon Abby had another nose tickle. But she would NOT sneeze. She would not let the terrible tickle win.

  She twisted her nose. First this way, then that way.

  She pooched her lips.

  She held her breath.

  Even pinched her nose shut with both hands. Of course, she’d need to breathe again. Pretty soon.

  One quick breath, she thought.

  She let go.

  “Ah-h.” She breathed in and out. But the tickle was still there.

  Before she could clamp her nose shut . . .

  “AH-CHOO-O-O!”

  A sneeze escaped.

  Stacy jumped. “Who’s there?”

  Abby tried to answer, but more tickles teased her nose.

  “AR-GA-CHOO-O-O!”

  There, she felt better. At least her nose did. But phooey! Stacy had caught her snooping.

  “Need a tissue?” Stacy asked. She was leaning over the fence now, staring.

  Quickly, Abby stood up. She brushed off her jeans. “I’m OK, thanks.”

  Stacy frowned. “What’re you doing in the dirt?”

  “Watching . . . uh, spying, I guess you’d say.”

  Stacy laughed out loud. “Why spy? Just come on over.”

  Abby felt silly. Snooping was stupid.

  “Wanna help plant a teeny weeny tree?” Stacy asked.

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Abby jumped over the fence.

  KER-PLOP! She landed on the other side. Stacy’s side.

  Of all the wonderful things God made, trees were tops. Abby liked trees. No . . . she loved them!

  Tall trees, short trees.

  Trees with flowers and trees without.

  Trees with fat, wide arms. And trees with secret holes where squirrels hid nuts.

  She especially liked the climbing trees. They had sturdy branches close to the ground.

  Stacy’s grandpa grinned a welcome. “Hi there, Abby.” He carried the sapling toward her. “We could use an extra pair of hands.”

  Abby smiled. “Glad to help.”

  She noticed the tree’s root system and its graceful branches. Beautiful.

  “Ever plant a tree?” Stacy asked her.

  “Nope,” Abby said. “But I’ve always wanted to.” She helped dig the hole for the tree. Deep as can be.

  She and Stacy steadied the sapling. Stacy’s grandpa began to fill the hole with dirt. Lots of dirt.

  Together, Abby and Stacy tugged on the long water hose. They watered the new tree.

  When that was done, Stacy’s grandpa stepped back. He tilted his head. First one way, then the other.

  At last, he grinned. His dimples showed. “Fine and dandy,” he said.

  Stacy copied her grandpa. She took three giant steps back. She had to see if the tree was straight.

  Abby giggled and did the same. Both girls eyeballed the tree. “It’s real pretty,” Abby said.

  “It’ll be huge someday,” Stacy replied. “Like the one over there.” She pointed to the oak in the corner of the yard.

  Grandpa wiped his face. “It’ll take years for this sapling to grow giant-size.”

  “Our oak tree is big enough to live in, don’t you think so?” Stacy asked Abby.

  Abby stared up at the towering branches. They seemed to reach to heaven. Almost.

  That’s when her idea got started. A double dabble good idea.

  “Let’s build a tree house,” she said.

  Stacy’s eyes shone. “Maybe Grandpa will help.”

  Abby looked up at the huge tree again. “I think we’re gonna need a lot of help.”

  “Some of the boys might want to,” suggested Stacy.

  Abby wasn’t so sure. She felt a little selfish. “Let’s think about it. Don’t say anything to the Cul-de-sac Kids yet.”

  “Why not?” Stacy asked.

  “The tree house could be private,” Abby whispered. “Just for you and me.”

  “You mean don’t tell Eric or Dunkum? Not Dee Dee or Carly?” Stacy asked.

  “Not my brothers, either. And especially not Jason,” Abby said.

  “You mean keep it a secret?” said Stacy.

  “Wouldn’t it be fun? Our secret?” Abby whispered.

  Stacy finally agreed.

  Abby could hardly wait to get started!

  TWO

  Abby headed for her own house.

  She rushed into the garage. She borrowed two hammers and some long nails. She found two pairs of work gloves.

  Her father was full of questions. “Are you making something?” he asked.

  She glanced around. “A hideout,” she whispered. “For Stacy and me.”

  Her father nodded. “Sounds like fun. Where?”

  “In Stacy’s backyard. But it’s top secret,” Abby said.

  “What about your club motto?” he asked.

  Abby didn’t want to think about the motto. Not today. Not when she and Stacy were having such fun. Just the two of them.

  “ ‘The Cul-de-sac Kids stick together,’ ” her father reminded her. He was frowning a little.

  “What’s wrong with one little secret?” she said. “Why can’t we have a tree house for two?”

  After all, she and the other kids on Blossom Hill Lane did everything together. Everything! Before school, after school. And most of the times—except for homework time—in between.

  Two girls could build a tree house. They didn’t have to share their plans, did they?

  B
esides, it wasn’t really against club rules. Was it? She should know. She was president of the Cul-de-sac Kids.

  If they were breaking the rules, nobody would know. Nobody at all.

  Stacy’s grandpa was a big help. He was strong. Cheerful too. He found scrap pieces of wood. And a bunch of lumber. Odds and ends.

  Stacy’s granny helped, too. She agreed to cover for the girls. She helped keep their secret when the doorbell rang.

  Granny told them about it later. Jason and the other boys had dropped by. They were asking questions. Lots of them.

  “We heard pounding,” Jason had said.

  “Where’s Stacy . . . and Abby?” asked Dunkum.

  Granny was double dabble good. She told them Stacy was busy. “And so is Abby,” she said.

  It was true. Granny would never lie.

  But Eric wouldn’t give up. He had to know if Abby was at Stacy’s house.

  Granny was so cool. She didn’t let on. Not a single secret slipped out.

  “Thanks, Granny,” Stacy said. “You were terrific.”

  Next came a group hug.

  “Hey, wait for me!” Grandpa hollered.

  Abby and Stacy held out their arms. Grandpa squeezed into the hug. Now it was a BEAR hug!

  Abby thought her ribs might pop.

  Stacy squirmed and giggled.

  When the hug was over, Abby giggled, too. A nervous laugh. “Our tree house is still top secret. Isn’t it?”

  “Sure is!” shouted Stacy.

  But Abby was worried. How long before the others find out?

  THREE

  It was Saturday evening.

  The tree house was finished. There were little wood slats for steps. A cute red roof on top. And plenty of room.

  It was shaped like a box. A yellow one. High in the branches.

  Abby and Stacy stared at their secret.

  “We need stuff for our hideout,” Abby said.

  “You’re right.” Stacy ran to her house. She came back with her puppy, Sunday Funnies. “Every tree house needs a pet,” Stacy said.

  Abby agreed. “I’ll get something, too. Our hideout needs to be cozy.”

  She ran home. She asked her mother for some old pillows. But Abby spoke softly so Shawn and Jimmy and Carly wouldn’t hear.

  “Must you whisper?” Mother asked.

  Abby replied, “It’s a secret.”

  “Oh, a secret. Well, okay,” said Mother, smiling.

  Abby flew out the back door with two pillows.

  She glanced around for snoopers. Quickly, she jumped over the backyard fence. Then she climbed the tree. Not a single Cul-de-sac Kid was in sight.

  Stacy leaned out of the tree house. “Be careful,” she called.

  Abby did some fancy footwork. But she made it to the top. Inside, she arranged the pillows. “One for you. One for me.”

  “This is so much fun,” Stacy squealed.

  “Shh! We don’t want anyone to hear us,” Abby warned.

  Stacy looked below. “Oops. I almost forgot.”

  They sat down in their tree house and grinned. “This is the coolest place on earth,” Abby said.

  “Sure is,” said Stacy. Her puppy snuggled against her.

  “Did you bring some dog food along?” asked Abby.

  Stacy shook her head. “Why? We aren’t spending the night.”

  “It would be exciting,” Abby said. “Wanna?”

  Stacy frowned. “Mom’ll probably say no.

  “Well,” said Abby, “maybe we should ask.”

  “You ask,” Stacy insisted. “It’s your idea.”

  “OK!” Abby picked her way back down the tree.

  Sleeping in a tree house was a double dabble good idea. Wasn’t it?

  “What did my mom say?” asked Stacy.

  Abby pulled herself back into the tree house. She plopped down on her pillow and smiled. The wind blew through her hair.

  “C’mon, tell me! What did she say?” Stacy asked again.

  Abby crossed her legs. She grinned a sneaky smile. “You’re allowed.”

  Stacy’s eyes grew wide. “You’re kidding! I can sleep outside? In the tree house?”

  Abby could hardly believe it, either.

  “How’d you do it? How’d you get my mom to say yes?”

  “She said you could if I could,” Abby explained.

  “Really?” Stacy said.

  “Your mom called my mom already,” said Abby.

  Stacy’s mouth flew open. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m NOT kidding,” Abby answered. “But there is one problem.” She paused for a second. “I forgot to tell her the tree house is a secret.”

  “Oh . . . no.” Stacy groaned. “We’ll probably be getting some visitors. Sooner or later.”

  “I know,” Abby said. She felt rotten.

  “We should’ve left things the way they were. Did we really have to sleep out here tonight?” Stacy said.

  “Yes, we really did,” Abby said.

  Stacy glanced around. “Well, so far, so good.”

  “I don’t see anyone,” Abby added.

  Stacy started to laugh. “We oughta have a watchdog. Sunday Funnies is the perfect choice.”

  Abby chuckled. “That ball of fluff?”

  “You might be surprised,” Stacy said. “My pup is amazing. Remember, he smells the funny papers three rooms away.”

  “But can he smell Jason or Dunkum?” Abby argued.

  “Sunday Funnies can smell any Cul-de-sac Kid!” Stacy replied.

  Abby kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to ruin things. Because up here, up high was the very best place to be.

  “Let’s plan our sleep-over,” Abby said.

  “OK,” said Stacy. “We each need sleeping bags.”

  “And a lantern,” said Abby.

  Stacy frowned. “Don’t you mean a flashlight?”

  “Oh, you’re right. I’ve been reading too many prairie stories,” said Abby.

  Stacy nodded. “We each need a flashlight.”

  “We’ll read scary stories out loud,” Abby suggested.

  Stacy shook her head. “Nothing scary. I’d rather tell secrets . . . until we fall asleep.” Stacy leaned her head against her puppy.

  “Do you really think we’ll get any sleep?” Abby laughed.

  “There’s Sunday school tomorrow,” Stacy said. “What if we fall asleep in church?”

  Abby said, “We won’t.”

  “Hope not,” Stacy replied.

  Abby wasn’t worried about losing sleep. Or being tired at church. She was thinking about something else. How long before they’d have to share their secret?

  She looked around. Their hideout was the best. It had little windows cut into the sides. And tiny flower boxes underneath. All theirs.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Stacy.

  “Nothing much,” Abby said.

  “Let me guess—”

  “You probably could,” Abby said. “Is it wrong to keep this place a secret?”

  “The Cul-de-sac Kids will find out,” Stacy answered. “You know they will.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Abby. “Maybe it’s time for a new club. A different club.”

  “What sort of club?” Stacy asked.

  “A girlfriends club,” Abby stated. “A Best Friends Club!”

  Stacy was smiling. She seemed to like the idea. “Starting when?”

  “Right now,” Abby answered.

  She fluffed her pillows. A bird chirped outside the little window.

  That’s when they heard the sneeze.

  “Uh-oh. Someone’s spying on us,” whispered Stacy.

  “Better not be,” Abby whispered back.

  But somebody was.

  Two somebodies!

  FOUR

  It was sunset.

  “Don’t move,” Abby whispered. The girls hid under the tree house window.

  Abby peeked out. She could only see shadows. “Sneezes come in threes,�
� she whispered.

  Stacy nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  The girls waited and watched. One good sneeze deserved another. Especially in April when trees were budding. It was hay fever season.

  Abby listened. Shouldn’t be too hard to tell who was spying.

  Then . . .

  “Ah-h—!” Abby’s nose tickle was back!

  “Oh . . . don’t you sneeze,” Stacy pleaded.

  Abby pinched her nose shut. “I’m trying not to.” She held her breath.

  But when she breathed, it sounded like “Aah-gah—”

  Stacy covered her puppy’s ears.

  “CHOO-O-O!”

  “We’re toast,” Stacy whispered.

  Abby sneezed again.

  From the ground, someone called, “Hey! Who’s in that tree?” It sounded like Eric Hagel.

  Abby grabbed Stacy’s arm. They froze in place.

  “I know someone’s up there.” This time it was Jason Birchall’s voice.

  The girls were silent as the sky.

  Eric said, “Trees don’t sneeze.”

  Abby almost giggled.

  Then Jason made a weird sound. Like a frog or something.

  That’s when Sunday Funnies started barking. He wiggled away from Stacy. “Aarf! Aarf!” He leaned out over the tree house.

  “Oh, this is great. Now the boys know it’s us,” Abby said. She heard footsteps running away. Were the boys scared?

  “Sunday Funnies is a true watchdog.” Stacy seemed proud of it.

  Abby was upset. Stacy’s pup had spoiled things. So had her own sneeze!

  “Where’d they go?” Stacy said.

  “Who knows,” Abby replied.

  Stacy sighed. “Sorry about my dog’s big mouth.”

  “Don’t say ‘sorry.’ I was the one who sneezed.”

  The girls grew quiet.

  Then Stacy spoke up. “At least we kept our tree house a secret for a while.”

  “Only one hour.” Abby felt sad, too.

  Before Abby could say “Jack Sprat,” the boys returned.

  No sneezes now. Eric and Jason had brought flashlights. Giant-sized ones!

  Abby ducked her head. “Lie down,” she told Stacy.

  But Sunday Funnies was too excited. He barked and barked.

  Beams from the flashlights moved across the tree. Back and forth.

  “Wow! Check it out,” Jason said below. “That’s a tree house and a half!”