انتقام کوتوله های حیاط فصل 05

Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes - Chapter 5

“What, Dad?” I cried. “Tell us.”

Dad spoke in a hoarse whisper. “I found a… a fruit fly on our tomatoes! On our biggest tomato. The Red Queen!” He wiped his sweaty forehead. “How could this happen? I misted. I sprayed. I pruned. Twice this week alone.” Dad shook his head in sorrow. “My poor tomatoes. If that fruit fly ruins my Red Queen, I-I’ll have to pull out of the garden show!” Mindy and I glanced at each other. I knew we were thinking the same thing. The adults around here were getting a little weird.

“Dad, it’s only one fruit fly,” I pointed out.

“It only takes one, Joe. Just one fruit fly. And our chances for a blue ribbon—destroyed. We have to do something. Right away.” “What about that new bug spray?” I reminded him. “The stuff that came last week from the Green Thumb catalog.” Dad’s eyes lit up. He ran a hand through his flat, rumpled hair. “The Bug Be Gone!” he exclaimed.

He jogged up the driveway to the garage. “Come on, kids!” he sang out. “Let’s give it a try!” Dad was cheering up.

Mindy and I raced after him.

Dad pulled out three spray cans from a carton in the back of the garage. The words “Wave Bye-Bye to Bugs with Bug Be Gone!” were printed on the labels. A drawing showed a tearful bug carrying a suitcase. Waving bye-bye.

Dad handed one can to Mindy and one to me. “Let’s get that fruit fly!” he cried, as we headed back to our garden.

We ripped the caps off the cans of Bug Be Gone. “One, two, three… spray!” Dad commanded.

Dad and I showered the two dozen tomato plants tied to wooden stakes in the middle of the garden.

Mindy hadn’t started yet. She was probably reading the ingredients on the can.

“What’s all the fuss about?” my mother called, stepping out the back door.

Mom was wearing one of her around-the-house outfits. A pair of Dad’s old baggy plaid shorts. And an old blue T-shirt he gave her when he came back from a business trip a few years ago. The T-shirt said “I Mist You!” One of Dad’s lame garden jokes.

“Hi, honey,” Dad called. “We’re about to destroy a fruit fly. Want to watch?”

Mom laughed, crinkling up the corners of her green eyes. “Pretty tempting. But I have to finish a greeting card design.” Mom is a graphic artist. She has an office on the second floor of our house. She can draw the most incredible pictures on her computer. Amazing sunsets, mountains, and flowers.

“Dinner at seven-thirty, everybody. Okay?”

“Sounds good,” Dad called as Mom disappeared into the house. “Okay, kids. Let’s finish spraying!” Dad and I showered the tomato plants one more time. We even sprayed the yellow squash plants nearby. Mindy squinted. Aimed the nozzle of her can directly at the Red Queen. And let out a single neat drizzle.

One tiny fruit fly flapped its wings weakly and fell to the ground. Mindy smiled in satisfaction.

“Good work!” Dad exclaimed.

He clapped us both on the back. “I think this calls for a celebration!” he declared. “I have the perfect idea! A quick visit to Lawn Lovely!” “Oh, nooooo,” Mindy and I groaned together.

Lawn Lovely is a store two blocks from our house. It’s the place where Dad buys his lawn ornaments. A lot of lawn ornaments.

Dad is as nuts about lawn ornaments as he is about gardening. We have so many lawn ornaments in our front yard, it’s impossible to mow the lawn!

What a crowd scene! We have two pink plastic flamingos. A cement angel with huge white wings. A chrome ball on a silver platform. A whole family of plaster skunks. A fountain with two kissing swans. A seal that balances a beach ball on its nose. And a chipped plaster deer.

Weird, huh?

But Dad really loves them. He thinks they’re art or something.

And do you know what he does? He dresses them up on holidays. Pilgrim hats for the skunks on Thanksgiving. Pirate costumes for the flamingos on Halloween. Stove-pipe hats and little black beards for the swans on Lincoln’s birthday.

Of course, neat and tidy Mindy can’t stand the lawn ornaments. Neither can Mom. Every time Dad brings a new one home, Mom threatens to toss it into the garbage.

“Dad, these lawn ornaments are totally embarrassing!” Mindy complained. “People gawk from their cars and take pictures of our front yard. We’re a tourist attraction!” “Oh, please,” Dad groaned. “One person took a picture.”

That was last Christmas. When Dad dressed all the ornaments as Santa’s helpers.

“Yeah. And that picture ended up in the newspaper!” Mindy moaned. “It was soooo embarrassing.”

“Well, I think the ornaments are cool,” I replied. Someone had to defend poor Dad.

Mindy just wrinkled her nose in disgust.

I know what really bugs Mindy about the ornaments. It’s the way Dad sticks them in the yard. Without any order. If Mindy had her way, they would be lined up like her shoes. In nice neat rows.

“Come on, guys,” Dad urged, starting down the driveway. “Let’s go see if a new shipment of ornaments has come in.” We had no choice.

Mindy and I trudged down the sidewalk after Dad. As we followed him, we thought—no big deal. It’s almost dinnertime. We’ll just glance over the ornaments at the store. Then we’ll go home.

We had no idea we were about to start the most horrifying adventure of our lives.