Read There's a Spaceship in My Tree! for Free Online

the stall door and bounced off Beamer’s head. When Beamer finally heard the door shut, he let his breath out and slid to the floor like melting candle wax.
    *   *   *   *   *
    Beamer picked up Michael from the nearby after-school daycare center, and they set off toward home along one of many beaten paths through the park. While Michael chattered away about the social ills of the fourth grade, Beamer kept an eye out for Jared and company. They came out into a broad clearing. For awhile they were able to hug close to the tree line. Finally, though, the forest twisted right and the way home meant that they had to launch out across the clearing.
    â€œWait a minute,” Beamer said, stopping to make one last check.
    â€œWhat for?” Michael asked.
    â€œNothin’.” Beamer finished his survey. “Okay, let’s go.”
    Then, less than fifty steps into the clearing, they heard a shrill screech. Beamer’s head whipped around. A boy erupted from another forest path about half a football field away. The long, skinny legs that knocked with each stride told Beamer it was probably Ghoulie. He was running full tilt, school papers streaming out behind him like confetti.
    A moment later three other boys blew out of the same opening in hot pursuit.
    Beamer’s eyes popped wide. It was Jared and his clones out for the kill. “Run, Michael!” Beamer shouted to his brother, pushing him ahead.
    â€œHey!” Michael protested. “Stop shovin’ . . .”
    â€œMove it! I haven’t got time to argue. It’s life and death!!”
    They broke into a run as Ghoulie streaked by. “What happened?” Beamer yelled.
    â€œI lost my contribution,” he said between gasps.
    â€œOkay, he’s in trouble,” said Michael, breathing heavily. “So why are we running?”
    â€œBecause if those guys recognize me, you’ll be a witness to my execution and dead meat too.”
    Michael’s stubby legs shifted into overdrive. A moment later the fugitive trio plunged into the middle of a football game, turning a long punt return into a messy four-way fumble. Shouts and shrieks erupted on every side.
    There was no time for “Sorrys.” For that matter, Jared’s troops were already giving the football team an instant replay.
    Dead ahead was the park’s museum surrounded by flowers and hedges. With no time for a detour, the threesome launched like awkward hurdlers over the first hedge. More of Ghoulie’s papers fluttered away. Two hedges later Michael took a tumble. Beamer skidded to a halt and yanked him back up.
    All three were exactly in step for the fifth hedgerow. Unfortunately, a trio of very proper middle-aged ladies stepped through a rosebush arbor right in front of them. It was not a pretty sight. The boys mowed them down like cornstalks. Actually, they didn’t touch them, but the surprise was enough. The ladies recoiled — one of them backward over a side hedge, another into a bed of pansies, while the third splashed into a fountain pool.
    Beamer looked behind to see Jared’s head pop into view as he cleared the first hedge. With one hedge to go, the timed sprinkler system came to their rescue.
    There was a yelp, and then — Phzzz! Plopp! Splatt! — their pursuers landed in a muddy skid, splattering even more yuck over the poor women.
    By the time Jared’s mud wamps wrestled their way out of the bog, Beamer and his crew had gained several precious seconds.
    As the seventh-grade brain trust, Ghoulie quickly calculated speed, trajectory, and the distance home, factoring in approximate leg length and muscle development. He concluded, “We don’t have a chance!”
    To their left was the brick wall that skirted the side of the park. Murphy Street was the next block over, but to get there they had to go around the wall by way of the gate on Parkview Court.
    Just then they heard a shout. It was Scilla