Fortunately, the car was in the garage and Mrs. “That’s the oldįight!” Brave little Ramona. Her mother would be so proud, and so would her father when he came home from work and heard the story.
She couldn’t wait to tell what had happened and how she had defended her big sister. “Beezus,” said Ramona, panting, “slow down.” Beezus, clutching her library book in her sweaty hand, paid no attention.The clang of rings, the steady pop of tennis balls against asphalt, and the shouts of children grew fainter as the girls approached their house on Klickitat Street. Ramona had stepped forward and defended her sister for a change. Bossy was a better word, Ramona sometimes thought.
And what had happened? For the first time in her six years Ramona had looked after Beezus, who was supposed to be the responsible one. Had sent the girls to the park for an hour, because she had an errand to do-an important errand, she hinted-she told Beezus, as Beatrice was called, to look after Ramona. Ramona was sticky from heat and grubby from landing in the sawdust at the foot of the slides, but she was proud of herself. She had never seen her sister’s cheeks so flushed with anger as they were this August afternoon. About the Author Other Books by Beverly Cleary Credits Cover Copyright About the PublisherĪmona Quimby, brave and fearless, was half running, half skipping to keep up with her big sister Beatrice on their way home from the park.
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