Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 The growling noise got louder. GRRR guh guh gug gug GRRR guh, guh, guh, guh… "Is it dogs?" Tony asked nervously. He looked around, eyes wide. Carmen's stomach tightened. The North End was infested with vicious stray dogs that roamed in packs. They howled in alleys at night. And many of them had rabies. If you got

bitten, you'd die a grisly death if you didn't get rabies shots stabbed right into your stomach. The sound got even louder. GRRR guh guh gug gug GRRR guh, guh, guh, guh… The ground around the tank shook. Carmen's heart pounded. Could it be an earthquake? She didn't think they had those in Boston. But what did she know? She whirled around, ready to grab Tony and bolt. She imagined the North End crumbling apart, like her village back in Italy. But the men working along the waterfront seemed to be doing what they always did. They were rolling their barrels and lugging their crates, talking and laughing. "Look!" Tony cried. Carmen followed Tony's gaze to the tank. The metal in front of them was vibrating, as if it was breathing.

Is… is there something in there? Carmen thought. Her heart skipped a beat. What if it's a— But just as quickly as the noise started, it stopped. The tank went still. Carmen and Tony were so focused on the tank, they didn't hear the footsteps creeping up behind them. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" boomed a voice. Carmen practically jumped out of her skin. She and Tony slowly turned around. A big-bellied man with a greasy black beard and small, mean eyes stood over them. He was holding a huge club—and he looked like he was ready to crack some skulls. "You're not allowed to be here," he growled. "This is private property!" Carmen realized he must work for the company that owned the tank.

"Sorry," Carmen said, her voice shaking. "We were just worried. We… we heard noises coming from the tank." The man shook his head and rolled his eyes, like she and Tony were scared little babies. "So what?" he said. "It's always doing that. Molasses makes noise. It boils up sometimes." He raised his club. "Now get out of here before I give you something to cry about!" Carmen and Tony took off. The stable was only a couple hundred yards away. They stopped to catch their breath behind a shed. Their eyes met—and they burst out laughing. "I thought there was a monster inside the tank!" Tony cried. He made a face and turned his sticky hands into claws. "Rarrrrr!" he said. I'm the molasses monster! Slime shoots out of my eyes!

"Or maybe it was a shark!" Tony said, turning his claws into a fin. "It sneaked onto the molasses ship and then wiggled through the pipe into the tank." Carmen smiled. Tony really was smart. It was true that the molasses came to Boston on big ships. The ships traveled from Cuba and Puerto Rico—islands in the Caribbean. The molasses was pumped from the ships into the tank through a giant pipe. Carmen caught her breath and brushed some dirt from her coat. She didn't admit to Tony what she'd really thought when she heard those noises: that a person was trapped inside. What if a worker had fallen in and was drowning, being smothered by the disgusting, bitter goo? Just the idea made her heart pound with horror. But now she looked at Tony's grinning face and laughed. Wait until Papa heard about this!

Carmen and Tony burst through the squeaking stable door. Instantly, Carmen felt calmer as she breathed in the smell of hay and horses and heard the loud nicker of hello from Rosie. The mare was the only horse still at the stable at this time of day. The others were out pulling wagons back and forth across Boston. Rosie was too old to work anymore. But Mr. Vita loved her too much to sell her. Rosie poked her white head over the door of her stall, flicking her ears and snorting softly. Carmen gave her a kiss on her nose. Tony rubbed her head—he loved her, too. Rosie stuck out her long pink tongue and started licking Tony's fingers. Tony laughed. "I think you like molasses even more than I do," he said to Rosie. "Papa?" Carmen called. "We're here!" Carmen expected to hear Papa's cheerful voice. He usually came running out from the back, to