Hello There, We've Been Waiting for You!. Laurie B. Arnold
turned and headed for Studio B I made sure the coast was clear. I opened the door to the Product Room, slipped inside and shut it quietly behind me.
Merchandise was piled everywhere. Computers, ladders, kitchen stuff, makeup, hair dryers, toys, vacuum cleaners, coats, dresses, exercise outfits, exercise equipment, and jewelry. This place would have been Florida’s dream come true. Then I noticed TVs lined up on the far side of the room. I raced over and found the remote control for the MegaPix 6000!
I grabbed it and quickly pushed ENTER. Nothing. I tried the purple button. Nothing. I pushed button after button, but I didn’t budge. Then I remembered. When I was cleaning the drool off the purple button, I might have been holding down the ENTER button at the same time. So I pushed the purple and ENTER buttons at the same time.
Still nothing.
What was I supposed to do? Just then the door clicked open.
“Madison? Are you in here?” It was the clipboard lady. “It’s five minutes until the hair curling segment.”
I panicked. Then I saw it. A bright silver button that said RETURN. Return is exactly what I needed to do. I pushed it and the purple button together. Ping! My body went icy cold. My vision blurred. Tingly lightning sparked through me. I shut my eyes, and when I opened them I had popped like a cork right back into Florida’s living room.
Okay, that was the freakiest thing that had happened to me ever. I would have pinched myself to make sure it was real, but I didn’t have to, because I was still wearing the blue flowered dress.
The good news? It was the first time in four months and twenty-four days that I hadn’t had a minute to think about my topsy-turvy new life.
The Shop ’Til you Drop Channel was still playing on the TV, and Sarah was holding up a bottle of Beauty-Does-It Insta-Perm Hair-Curling Gel. “Next time we’ll demonstrate this on Madison, but right now? We’re going to curl up the spiky hair of our Makeup Queen, Margo.”
I hit the off button on the remote. I didn’t want to see another shopping show as long as I lived.
The living room looked pretty much the way I’d left it. Except that the paper towel I’d used to dry up Leroy’s slobber was in a million little pieces on the floor. While I was busy starring on the Shop ’Til You Drop Channel, Leroy must have passed the time practicing how to be a paper shredder.
Leroy. Where was that dog? I raced through the house calling his name. He was fast asleep on my bed, snuggling with a pile of my dirty socks.
The last thing I needed was to have Florida find Leroy inside her house. I nudged him awake and led him by his collar to the backyard. As I chained him to his monitor, he hung his head and whimpered.
“It’s just for a little while, boy. I’ll unhook you again as soon as I can. Promise.”
It was hot as blazes, so I filled his bowl with cold water, then scratched his tummy spot that made his back leg shake with happiness.
“Hello.”
It was the crazy lady. She was standing on her back porch, bundled in layers. “I just made some pie, Madison,” she said. “Would you like some?”
How did she know my name?
“Uh, sorry, I can’t,” I said. “Maybe another time.”
Like maybe when pigs can fly.
I hurried back into the house and shut the door. Even though she hadn’t done anything strange, I couldn’t be too sure, so I flipped the lock just in case.
It was then that I noticed Florida’s ceramic poodle collection. Leroy had knocked them all down like bowling pins. Quick as anything, I set them back up and was relieved that none of them had broken.
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