Ramona Forever Read Online Free Page B

Willa Jean hopped around, yelling and insisting that Ramona play with her. Being good wasn’t going to be hard after all.
    Beezus came home a short time later. The sisters greeted one another with unusual courtesy, so determined were they to be good. Beezus took an apple into her room, where she settled down to do her homework.
    Picky-picky meowed to be let out of the basement.
    â€œRamona, will you please let the cat out?” Ordinarily, Beezus would have shouted, Can’t you hear Picky-picky? Let him out.
    Another time, Ramona would have shouted back, Let him out yourself. He’s more your cat than mine. I wasn’t even born when we got him. Today she answered, “Yes, Beezus,” as she opened the basement door.

    Picky-picky immediately went to his dishto see if someone had surprised him with a choice tidbit. Ramona returned to her book. Picky-picky, finding only leftover Puss-puddy, strolled out of the kitchen and went to the couch, where he waggled his rear end as if he were about to jump up beside Ramona. The effort was too great for his old age. Ramona, who was always pleased to receive attention from the cat, lifted him gently. He curled up beside her and purred as if his purring machinery had grown rusty and was wearing out.
    Of course, the girls’ parents, when they came home, were delighted to see what well-behaved daughters they had. The girls looked closely at their mother’s waistline to see if she had gained weight since breakfast.
    Tuesday afternoon was much the same as Monday. Beezus talked a long time on the telephone to a friend Ramona did not know. The conversation was about who said whatto a new boy at school, and what was printed on someone’s T-shirt, and how some girl said she had seen some boy looking at Beezus, because Beezus said, “Do you think he looked at me, really ?” and on and on. When the conversation, uninteresting to Ramona, finally ended, Beezus went into the bathroom and scrubbed her face with medicated soap.
    â€œWhat good girls we have,” said Mrs. Quimby when she returned from work with her waistline no larger than it had been the day before. However, she did look tired, and on the way home, had bought a pizza for dinner. Since pizzas were an extravagance in the Quimby household, this meant she did not feel like cooking dinner.
    By Wednesday Ramona began to dread being good because being good was boring, so she was happy to see Howie coming down the street, wheeling his bicycle with hisunicycle balanced across the seat and handle-bars. She was even happier when he laid both on her driveway. Ramona met him at the door.
    â€œCome on out, Ramona,” said Howie. “Uncle Hobart helped me learn to ride my unicycle, so now you can ride my bicycle.”
    Ramona’s wish had come true. “Hey, Beezus,” she shouted, “I’m going out and ride Howie’s bike.”
    â€œYou’re supposed to ask first,” said Beezus. “You can’t go out unless I say so.”
    Ramona felt that Beezus was showing off in front of Howie. “How come you’re so bossy all of a sudden?” she demanded.
    â€œMom and Dad left me in charge, and you have to mind,” answered Beezus.
    â€œYou talk the way you and Mary Jane used to talk when you played house and made me be the baby. Well, I’m not a baby now.” Ramona grew more determined andcontrary. “Mom always lets me go out and play with Howie.”
    â€œJust the same, if you get hurt, I’m responsible,” said Beezus.
    â€œYou’re just being mean,” said Ramona. “So long, Pizzaface.” Just before she slammed the door, she was horrified to see Beezus’s face crumple, as if she were about to burst into tears.
    Howie cried out, “Ramona, look at me!”
    Ramona watched Howie mount his unicycle and ride it to the corner and back, but as she watched, she felt puzzled and uncomfortable. She had made Beezus