16-TWELVE STROKES

TWELVE STROKES The hunchback led us to a huge walk-in closet. "YOU WILL FIND YOUR UNIFORMS IN THERE," he said. "IF YOU NEED ANYTHING JUST ASK!" The hunchback turned to leave. "Thank you," I said, pulling out two matching coats from the closet. "By the way, what is your name?" I called after him. The hunchback whirled around and squeaked, "DON'T BOTHER ME!" "Oh, well, I didn't mean to pry." I mumbled. "I just wanted to know what we should call you," "DON'T BOTHER ME!" the hunchback cried again. I gulped. The hunchback seemed to be

getting upset. Maybe he had one of those really embarrassing names. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Lots of mice have names they don't like." I told the hunchback. "Yours can't be that bad." "DON'T BOTHER ME! MY NAME IS DON'T BOTHER ME!" he repeated. Benjamin was the first one to catch on. "Oh, of course, Mr. Don't-Bother-Me! That's a great name!" he said. The hunchback hobbled toward the door in a huff. "Do you want us to brush off the cobwebs?" I called after him. Once again, the hunchback whirled on me. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THE COBWEBS! he shrieked, going into a tailspin, "THEY ARE SIXTEENTH CENTURY!" I looked around the room. "Well, what

about some dusting?" I offered. Again, the hunchback threw a fit. His tail smacked the floor. He bared his teeth. "NOOOO! THAT'S COLLECTORS' DUST!" he screamed in a rage. "I WILL CHOP OFF YOUR PAWS IF YOU GO ANYWHRER NEAR IT!" "Um, well, what do you want us to do then?" I asked in my nicest voice. "GO DOWN TO THE KITCHEN AND GIVE THE NEW COOK A PAWS!" the hunchback instructed. He shot a loving glance at the many cobwebs hanging over our heads. Then he stormed off. Just then, I heard a clock strike. DONG! DONG! DONG! I counted twelve strokes. "Midnight!" whispered Benjamin, grabbing my paw. "Is that when the ghosts and vampires come out?"