Pedal Power Read online

  “What are you going to call it?” said Mary Beth. “It has to have a name.”

  “I think I’ll call it ‘Molly’s Aunt’s Favorite Fast Recipe.’ People like fast stuff when they come home from work and don’t have much time. This won’t take any time at all.”

  Roger wrote the name at the top. “How do you spell favorite?” he asked.

  Molly spelled it for him.

  “I’ll stop at Mrs. Peters’ house on my way home and give it to her,” said Roger.

  Before Molly could stop him, he was out the door and gone.

  “What if he loses it?” cried Molly.

  “He won’t,” said Mary Beth. “He doesn’t want seven years’ bad luck. And now we’re through with him.”

  Well, that’s good, Molly thought. And now one of her tasks was done! At this rate, getting the bike safety badge would be a snap.

  That weekend Molly studied the bike rules. Her dad quizzed her on the signals and signs. Then they took Molly’s bike into the shop to get a checkup and grease job.

  “Just like our car!” said Mr. Duff. “Safety first!” He also bought Molly a brand-new purple helmet.

  From there they went to the police station and got a license for the bike.

  And then they stopped at Big Burger for lunch.

  “Troop 23 will have the safest bikes in town!” said Mr. Duff.

  “Except for Roger,” said Molly, dipping her french fry in ketchup. “He comes back on Tuesday, and I’ll bet he’s just as mean as ever.”

  Molly was right. On Tuesday Roger was back at Scouts. His dad brought him in and said, “Roger would like to thank all of you, especially Molly and Mary Beth, for calling for help in time.”

  Molly felt embarrassed. She didn’t want any thanks.

  And Roger didn’t give any. His father kept nudging him. He finally stood up and said, “Thanks,” so softly that hardly anyone could hear him.

  “Roger is a little bit shy,” said Mr. White.

  “Shy?” Rachel whispered to Molly. “The day Roger is shy I’ll eat my hat!”

  Mr. White thanked the troop for Roger. He said that if they had not acted quickly and maturely, Roger might not have been here today. Mr. White was so grateful, he got tears in his eyes. “I could have lost my only son if it had not been for the Pee Wee Scouts.”

  “Why would anyone want a kid like Roger anyway?” Mary Beth whispered to Molly.

  “I suppose when someone is part of your family, you don’t notice what they’re really like,” Molly whispered back. “It’s like being in love. My aunt says you can’t see straight.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Roger’s Return

  When Mr. White had left, Roger ran around, bragging to everyone about his concussion and showing them how big the lump on his head had been.

  “He wouldn’t be bragging if he was dead,” said Tracy.

  “My mom said next time he might not be so lucky,” said Lisa.

  “Roger’s always lucky,” scoffed Rachel. “He gets away with murder.”

  Roger was chasing the Peterses’ dog, Lucky, around the basement. Roger seems even wilder than before, thought Molly. Since he had repaid Molly and Mary Beth by helping with the recipe, he must think his job was done.

  When Mrs. Stone asked Roger to help carry Nick’s playpen downstairs, he said, “The doctor told me I can’t do any lifting. My head’s going to be kind of fragile for a long time. I might get dizzy and fall over and faint.”

  “You’re right about one thing,” said Rachel. “You have a fragile head. It’s empty like an eggshell.”

  Roger stuck his tongue out at Rachel.

  “Hey, you guys,” he said. “You’ve got to see my new bike! It’s a Mountain Ranger. It’s got millions of gears. I get to be in a race on Sunday—all the way to Minneapolis.”

  “How can he race to Minneapolis, up all those hills, if he can’t lift a little thing like a playpen?” demanded Ashley.

  “And why does he get a brand-new bike?” said Kevin. “He shouldn’t be riding a bike at all, the way he acts.”

  Roger had run up the steps and was trying to drag the new bike into the house for the Pee Wees to see. Mrs. Peters ran up the steps after him and made him take it outside again.

  “I’ll show you guys later,” said Roger.

  Mrs. Peters clapped her hands for everyone to get down to business. And the business wasn’t Roger. He’s already taken up enough time, thought Molly.

  “Now!” said their leader. “Before we talk about bike safety, tell me—have you brought your recipes?”

  Molly asked Mrs. Peters if Roger had given her the recipe.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Peters said. “You were the first one to get yours in!”

  Well, that was good news. Roger really had been a help!

  Lisa, Jody, Kenny, and Tim also handed theirs in.

  “My recipe has been tested,” said Molly. “And it’s fast.”

  “Good,” said Mrs. Peters. “People like fast recipes when they work all day.”

  “Mine is fast too,” said Lisa.

  “Great,” said Mrs. Peters. “Maybe the rest of you can bring your recipes to my house during the week. That way we can get the book put together as quickly as possible.

  “And now, let’s go outside and check those bikes to see if they have licenses and reflectors!”

  Most of the Pee Wees were ready. Their bikes had had checkups, and some even had new brakes.

  “I washed and waxed mine,” said Kenny. “And Patty’s too.”

  Mrs. Peters admired the bikes and made check marks in a box after each of their names on her clipboard. Then they went back downstairs to start the quiz.

  Instead of asking a question and then looking for someone who knew the answer, Mrs. Peters would call on a person first. Then she would ask that person a question. The Pee Wees all looked worried.

  “Let’s start with Lisa,” said their leader. She looked down at the rule booklet. “What color, Lisa, should the reflectors on the bike’s pedals be?”

  Everyone frowned. No one remembered about reflectors on pedals. Except Rachel. Her hand was waving.

  “This question is only for Lisa.” said Mrs. Peters firmly. Rachel put her hand down.

  “I don’t think you told us that,” said Lisa.

  “No, but I told you to read the booklet,” said Mrs. Peters, “and that everything in it could be on the quiz.”

  Lisa looked as if she might cry.

  Mrs. Peters held up the booklet and read, “ ‘Each pedal must have a white or yellow reflector on it, and it must be able to be seen for two hundred feet.’ ”

  Molly wrote it down in her note book, even though Mrs. Peters probably wouldn’t ask that same question again. Everyone would remember it now.

  “I’ll ask you another question next week, Lisa,” said Mrs. Peters. “Now, Molly Duff.”

  Molly’s knees felt like Jell-O, but she stood up.

  “When you come out of an alley or driveway on your bike, what do you do before entering the street?”

  Molly wondered if this was a trick question. Maybe the answer was stop. But maybe it was look both ways. Maybe the rule was one of those things, maybe it was the other, or maybe it was both things! She’d have to take a chance.

  “Stop and look both ways,” said Molly.

  “Good, Molly. That was the perfect answer! I can see you read your book!” Mrs. Peters quizzed a few more Pee Wees and then said, “I’ll quiz the rest of you next week.”

  “You were lucky,” whispered Mary Beth. “That was an easy question.”

  Molly didn’t think it was easy! But now she had two parts of her badge done. She had passed her quiz and turned in her recipe. Things were going well. Almost too well.

  CHAPTER 8

  Scrambled Eggs

  Mrs. Peters talked some more about kickstands and yield signs and staying away from freeways and railroad tracks. She talked about one-way streets too. Soon the meeting was over. “If everyone gets
their recipes in,” she told the Scouts, “we should have our cookbooks ready by our next meeting.”

  On the day before the next meeting, Sonny called Molly on the phone.

  “Hey, your recipe was icky!” he said. “My mom got the first copy of the cookbook, and your recipe should be called ‘Scrambled Eggs, Enough for an Army.’ ”

  He hung up. Before Molly could figure out what had gone wrong, Rachel called.

  “We got an advance copy of the cookbook,” she said, “and my mom said I couldn’t make your recipe because of all the eggs. Our skin could break out or we could get high cholesterol or something.”

  “It’s a good recipe,” said Molly. “We make it all the time.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s healthy,” said Rachel, and she hung up.

  All night Molly wondered what was wrong with her aunt’s recipe. It was good—it was Molly’s favorite! And it was fast.

  At the next meeting, Molly found out what the problem was. The cookbooks were printed and waiting for them.

  “I think they’re beautiful!” said Mrs. Peters. “I’ll give each of you ten to sell. When you sell those, I’ll give you ten more.”

  Sonny and Rachel were waving their hands. Molly knew what they were going to say. They both complained about Molly’s recipe.

  “All these recipes have been tested,” said their leader. “You must have made a mistake.”

  “I can take forty cookbooks, Mrs. Peters,” said Ashley. “My dad can put them in his office and his customers will buy them.”

  “Unless they’re allergic to eggs,” said Rachel.

  “I’m allergic to eggs,” said Tracy.

  “Well, you’d better stay away from page nineteen, then,” said Kevin. “This recipe has twenty eggs!”

  Mrs. Peters and the Pee Wees turned to page nineteen.

  “Rat’s knees!” yelled Molly. “That’s my recipe! It’s supposed to be two eggs!”

  Mrs. Peters ran upstairs and came down with Molly’s recipe. She was frowning.

  “Your recipe card says twenty, Molly. Twenty eggs.”

  No wonder Sonny and Rachel had complained!

  Molly and Mary Beth glared at Roger. “It’s your fault,” said Molly, pointing at him.

  “Roger wrote it down, Mrs. Peters,” said Mary Beth. “I’ll bet he did it on purpose!”

  “Hey, I did not!” said Roger. “That’s what Molly told me, twenty eggs!”

  “I did not!” said Molly. “Rat’s knees, I know better than to use twenty eggs!” She stamped her foot.

  Mrs. Peters sighed. “The thing is,” she said, “how do we correct it?”

  She looked at the piles of cookbooks on the table. And on the chairs. Piles and piles of cookbooks, ready to sell. Except for one thing: piles and piles of eggs. In the wrong place!

  “Well, we can’t reprint all of these books,” she said. “It will take too long and be too expensive. Maybe we can change the twenty to a two.”

  “Roger should do it,” said Rachel. “It’s his fault.”

  “He can help,” said Mrs. Peters. “We’ll all have to pitch in and cross off that zero.”

  The Pee Wees looked at all the books. “In every book?” asked Kenny.

  It did seem like a huge task to Molly. Could they do it?

  “We could think of it as a giant good deed,” said Jody. “If we all worked on it, it wouldn’t take that long.”

  “Well, it looks as if that’s the only thing we can do,” said their leader. “We can all work, and while we’re doing that, I can continue with my quiz.”

  “I think we should do something more entertaining, to make the time go faster,” said Ashley. “Like tell riddles or jokes or maybe have a snack.”

  “Let’s do both,” said Mrs. Peters.

  She got them all pencils and showed them how to cross out the zero on page nineteen. She showed them how to do it carefully and neatly.

  “This will take forever,” said Kenny. “Why was Roger helping you, anyway?”

  “Because we saved his life,” said Mary Beth crossly.

  “Now you’ll still have seven years’ bad luck, Roger,” laughed Kenny. “You’ll have to do something else to repay them.”

  Molly and Mary Beth groaned. Kenny was making things worse.

  “We don’t want any more help,” said Molly to Roger. “Just stay away from us.”

  “I don’t want my bike stolen,” he said. “I’ve got to help you guys.”

  At first, progress with the cookbooks was slow. Then Jody had the idea that one person should open all the books to page nineteen so that they would be ready. After that, things went much faster. Before long, one whole stack of books was done. But there were still many undone stacks. Mrs. Peters read the rules while they worked and quizzed everyone who had not been quizzed last week. Then Mr. Peters came home and helped too. He told them stories and made popcorn and lemonade. Then they all sang together. By the end of the meeting, Mr. Peters said, “I think Mrs. Peters and I can finish these up tonight after Nick is in bed.”

  The Pee Wees stood up and stretched. Molly’s fingers were stiff. “I have writer’s cramp,” she said. “Just like real writers get.”

  The stiff Pee Wees got ready to leave. “That was a giant good deed you all did today,” said Mrs. Peters. “And there are enough books finished for you all to take a pile to sell. Don’t go to strangers’ houses, just sell in your own neighborhood and to relatives and friends.”

  “And my dad’s dental patients,” said Rachel.

  All week Molly sold books. She sold them to the couple next door and to her aunt and to her mom’s and dad’s friends. Molly left a book near the front door so that anyone who stopped by would see it. She put a tag on it that said, FOR SALE, HELP THE BIKE FUND.

  Sure enough, the mail person and the UPS man and even the dry cleaning lady bought one. All the Scouts went back to Mrs. Peters’s house for more. At their next Tuesday meeting, their leader announced that they had sold almost every book. There was plenty of money for several bikes. Along with the bikes the business-people had donated, and the bikes that had been rebuilt, the Pee Wees had twelve bikes to give to children who would not have had a bike otherwise.

  “The bike committee has chosen children who need our help the most. We’ll take the bikes to them along with a copy of the bike rules, and a cookbook for their parents,” said Mrs. Peters.

  “Next week,” she continued, “We’ll get our badges. But first, we’re going to take our bike hike on Saturday. It will give us a chance to put all the bike rules into practice. I’d like you all to be at my house at nine o’clock sharp, with your bikes and helmets.”

  “Yay!” shouted the Pee Wees.

  “This is a fun badge,” said Mary Beth. “At least, it is now that we know the rules and passed the quiz!”

  Mary Beth is right, thought Molly. Now all there is to look forward to is pure fun and no work!

  There was no cloud on the horizon. Unless you wanted to call Roger a cloud.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ready, Set, Ride!

  Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. Molly’s dad made pancakes for breakfast. “You’ll need a lot of strength to do all that pedaling,” he said.

  When Molly got to the Peterses’ house, the Pee Wees were there, along with some of the parents who were going on the trip to help out.

  “Now that we all know the bike rules, and have our bikes in tip-top shape, we should have a wonderful bike hike!” said Mrs. Peters. Baby Nick was in a safety seat behind Mr. Peters. Even Nick was wearing a helmet. A baby helmet.

  “Hey, Stone, you got your training wheels off that thing?” Roger teased Sonny.

  Sonny turned bright red. “I haven’t had training wheels on my bike for a long time,” he said.

  “I don’t know why Sonny wants Roger for a best friend,” said Mary Beth. “Roger is so mean to him.”

  “All I know is, I want to stay away from Roger on this ride,” said Molly. “I have a fe
eling he’s still watching for some chance to repay us.”

  “Remember, now,” said Mr. Peters. “Ride single file, and keep alert for cars. Stay on the edge of the road. Mrs. Peters and I will lead the troop, and there will be parents in the middle and parents at the end. If there’s any trouble, we’ll be close at hand.”

  “We have snacks in our backpacks,” said Tim’s mother, who was one of the chaperones, “for our break in the park. By lunchtime we should be as far as the Countryside Eatery. We’ll all have lunch there.”

  “And we have water here in these bottles,” said Tracy’s father, pointing to the containers clamped onto his bike.

  “We have first aid in this kit,” said Mrs. Peters, holding up a box with a red cross on it. “Let’s hope we don’t have to use it!”

  “I hope there’s something in it for a concussion,” said Rachel. “Who knows what Roger will do this time!” Roger made a face at Rachel.

  “We can’t carry a dead Pee Wee on our bikes!” said Mary Beth. “And we can’t call 911 out in the country.”

  “I think the Peterses have a cellular phone,” said Rachel. “But it might be too late by the time help got there.”

  Molly hoped she wouldn’t have to save Roger twice. Then he would have to repay her twice!

  Troop 23 got on their bikes and followed the Peterses. They went down one block and up another toward the country road. Nearby, cars whizzed along the freeway. Trucks hummed across overpasses. Airplanes buzzed through the air, and boats sailed on the river. Everyone was out enjoying the fine day.

  “My foot hurts,” cried Tim when they had been riding a half hour. “I think it’s bleeding.”

  The troop stopped, and Mrs. Noon took a look at Tim’s foot. He had a blister on his heel. It was red and sore from his sneaker rubbing against it. Mrs. Peters put some medicine on it, then covered it with a Band-Aid.

  “I think that will feel better,” she said. It did.

  “This is the way to travel,” said Jody when they were on the road again. He had a special bike with three wheels and a motor. “It’s more fun than being inside a car.”