Henry and Ribsy (Henry Huggins #3)(2)

Mr. Huggins and Al both laughed. “You know, I always wanted to do the same thing when I was a kid,” said Mr. Huggins. “It’s all right with me, but maybe Al won’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“It’s OK with me,” said Al, “but once you get up there you’ll have to stay till I finish the job. It may take a while because I have to wait on customers.”

“Sure, I’ll stay,” agreed Henry.

“And you’re not to open the car door while you’re up there,” cautioned Henry’s father.

“I won’t,” promised Henry, and got back into the car. Al drove it onto the rack and then got out to fix the axle supports that held the car to the rack. He turned a handle and Henry felt the car begin to rise.

“So long, Dad,” Henry called, as he and the car rose slowly into the air. He felt as if he were riding in an elevator that didn’t have a building around it. Too bad some of the boys and girls were not around to see him now.

The car stopped and Henry could hear the pish-tush, pish-tush of the grease gun as Al worked beneath him. How different things looked from up in the air. And wouldn’t it be fun if cars could take off and drive along just this high!



“Wuf!” said Ribsy, looking anxiously up at Henry as if he could not understand what the Huggins car was doing up in the air.

“It’s all right, Ribsy,” said Henry. “I won’t go any higher.”

Thump, thump, thump went Ribsy’s tail on the cement.

Al left the grease rack to sell some gasoline and check someone’s oil. Ribsy, seeing that the car was not going to leave without him, wandered around the service station sniffing the gasoline pumps and the Coke machine. Henry sat behind the steering wheel and pretended he was driving the car around in the air. He wished some of his friends would come along.

Then Scooter McCarthy rode into the service station on his bicycle. He stopped by the air hose and started to unscrew the valve cap on his front tire.

“Hi, Scooter,” Henry called.

Startled, Scooter looked around but did not see Henry. He looked puzzled as he bent over to put air into his bicycle tire.

I bet I can have some fun with old Scooter, thought Henry. Then he said in a hollow voice, “I am the ghost of Henry Huggins.” Quickly he ducked down in the seat of the car.

The air stopped hissing into Scooter’s tire.

Henry peeked out to see Scooter looking worried. “I have come to haunt you,” said Henry in his hollow voice, and let out a groan.

“You all right up there, sonny?” asked Al, who had returned from the gasoline pump.

Henry had to answer. “Sure, I’m all right,” he said, feeling foolish.

“Aw, I knew you were up there all the time,” said Scooter, unscrewing the valve cap on his back tire.

“You did not,” answered Henry. “You just wish you’d thought of riding up on the grease rack.”

“Ha,” scoffed Scooter, as the air hissed into his tire.

“You know what?” said Henry. “My dad’s going to take me salmon fishing this year.” That ought to impress Scooter.

“Haven’t you ever been fishing?” said Scooter.

“Sure I’ve been fishing, but not salmon fishing,” said Henry. Well, he had been fishing. Once he and his mother and father had picnicked beside the Sandy River when the smelt were running. The river was so thick with the little fish that people dipped them out of the water with nets. Henry did not have a net, but he used an old stocking cap to scoop up some fish. His mother had cooked them for dinner so it really counted as fishing, even though he didn’t intend to let Scooter know exactly how he had caught the fish.

“My dad took me salmon fishing last year,” boasted Scooter.

Henry might have known Scooter had already gone salmon fishing. He was two years older and always got to do things first. “Catch anything?” Henry asked.

“A silverside,” answered Scooter proudly, as he screwed the valve cap back on his wheel.

“Aw, that’s just a little salmon,” said Henry.

“I don’t call fifteen pounds so little,” said Scooter.

“I bet I catch a chinook,” boasted Henry.

“Ha, I’d like to see you,” sneered Scooter. “Why, they weigh twenty or thirty pounds. You couldn’t land a chinook even if you did get one to bite.”

“I could too land one,” said Henry.

“No, you couldn’t. I know. I’ve been salmon fishing and you haven’t,” Scooter said. Then he called, “So long,” and pedaled away.

“You just wait. I will too catch a salmon,” yelled Henry.

That old Scooter, he thought. He needn’t think he’s so smart just because he got to go fishing first.

Al gave the car a few more pish-tushes with the grease gun and hurried off to sell some more gas. Ribsy looked up at Henry as if he wished he would come down.

“Pretty soon, fellow,” said Henry, wishing something would happen. Sitting up on the grease rack wasn’t as much fun as he had thought it would be.

While Henry was wishing something would happen, a police car stopped in front of the supermarket next door to the service station. The officer got out and hurried into the market.

Boy, oh, boy, thought Henry. Now something is happening. Maybe somebody’s holding up the supermarket. If he comes out shooting, I better duck.