Normally, Mrs. Brown could lie her head on a pillow and sleep straight through the night, needing something louder than a tornado siren to wake her, but she had drank a little too much coffee while visiting with Mrs. Van Pelt earlier that evening, and when she rolled on her side, she could read in the dark on the ticking alarm clock that it was nearly midnight.
She patted her pillow, debating between waiting patiently for sleep to claim her and leaving her bed to do something productive, like mending button holes on her son's church clothes. Out of the silence, the telephone rang, piercing the stillness of the house. Hoping it was not an emergency, Mrs. Brown rolled to her feet and grabbed her dressing gown, noting with a bemused smile that her husband continued to snore, as heavy a sleeper as she was. Even so, she tried not to make too much noise as she crossed the floor.
She opened the door just in time to see her son stagger into the carpeted hallway. Charlie's room was the closest to the living-room telephone, and he dutifully trudged forward, as though he were used to answering calls after his family was in bed. He caught it on the fifth ring.
"Hello?" he yawned.
He stood in silence, tiredly swaying as he listened to the caller. As his mother approached behind him, she caught the electronic voice of a young girl, who seemed to be angrily screaming something. Charlie closed his eyes, but he did not seem alarmed.
"Woof," he said resignedly. The girl said something else, and Charlie wearily hung up the receiver with a weary sigh.
He slowly turned. His eyes widened slightly to see his mother, but he still seemed half asleep.
"What was that about?" Mrs. Brown asked. "Is everything okay?"
Charlie blinked bleary eyes.
"Snoopy was supposed to guard Peppermint Patty's house," he grimaced, "but he ran away from something out in the yard, so Patty says I have to replace him, because he's my responsibility."
"Replace him?" Mrs. Brown repeated. "She wants you to find her another watchdog when it's nearly midnight?"
"Not exactly," he sighed wearily. "She wants me to be the watchdog."
He said it so matter-of-factly that Mrs. Brown thought he might actually be sleepwalking, but then he began to rub his tired eyes.
"Why do these things happen to me all the time, Mom?" he groaned, beginning to trudge around her toward his room. "It's a long walk to her house…"
His mother stepped in front of him, cutting off his route.
"Out of the question," she said sharply. "Children should not be outside this time of night."
"But I have to, Mom," he protested, widening his eyes with conviction. "Patty is all alone with no one to protect her."
Mrs. Brown's protective instincts switched from frowning alarm to full blast. She knelt low, touching her son's slumped shoulder.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"When Peppermint Patty's dad goes out of town for the weekend, she's all by herself," he explained tiredly. "That's why she wanted to borrow Snoopy, but something made him run off a few minutes ago, so she has nobody to protect her if a burglar breaks in. That's why I got to help her, Mom."
She stared at him, flabbergasted at both Mr. Reichardt's irresponsibility and her son's belief that one eight-year-old could protect another eight-year-old against a grown criminal. Mrs. Brown pinched her nose and let out a slow breath.
"Let me throw on some clothes," she said at last, "and I'll take care of it, dear."
With such little traffic at night, the trip to the other side of town took less than thirty minutes. Despite her reservations, Mrs. Brown allowed Charlie to change clothes and come along to give her directions to Patty's house. He seemed to have woken up more, keeping a watch for familiar landmarks. While she drove, Mrs. Brown resisted the urge to give him a long talk about going to a parent for help in serious situations, deciding that could wait until morning when she could have his father present.
At length, she turned into the Reichardts' driveway, and she and Charlie got out, with her son leading the way to the door.
Seconds after Charlie knocked, Patty answered in her orange nightgown, looking about as annoyed as Charlie looked tired.
"It's about time you showed up, Chuck—" she began to scold, but her mouth clamped shut once she realized he had company. Her anger shifted to embarrassment. "Oh! Hi, Mrs. B."
"Hello, Patty," Mrs. Brown greeted kindly. "Charlie says you're here by yourself tonight?"
Peppermint Patty raised her hands with an aggravated sigh.
"Snoopy was guarding me, but something was outside earlier, and I saw him running away." She held her arms akimbo, shooting Charlie a look as though he had deliberately loaned her a defective dog, but then she smiled. "But I appreciate you bringing ol' Chuck here to be my watchdog, Mrs. B. You're pretty cool for a grown up."
Mrs. Brown held back a dry remark balancing on the tip of her tongue, and she made sure to speak gently.
"Actually, I'll do you one better, dear," she smiled. "Pack a bag. You're spending the weekend with us."
Patty's arms slid off her hips. She looked away, embarrassed.
"Ah, I don't wanna be a burden, Mrs. B. All I need is someone to guard the house at night…"
Mrs. Brown stooped and laid a hand on her small shoulder.
"It'll be our pleasure, Patty. We have a soft couch and extra pillows, and in the morning I'll fix you something nice for breakfast."
Patty rubbed her neck. "Well, the last time I stayed at your house, I slept in Snoopy's doghouse…"
"You were so insistent," Mrs. Brown remembered. "I thought you just wanted to play with Snoopy. But we recently got a second-hand pullout couch. It'll be much more comfortable. And there's pancake mix in the pantry, if you have any interest."
At the mention of pancakes, Patty's eyes glittered. "Well… I mean, since you're going through the trouble to be so hospitable, it'd be rude to say no."
"No trouble at all," Mrs. Brown promised. She gave her a gentle pat. "Now, pack a few clothes, your toothbrush, and whatever else you need, dear."
"Yes, ma'am." Patty spun and broke into a run, looking a lot more chipper than Mrs. Brown had ever seen her.
"I'll leave a note for Snoopy in case he comes back," Charlie yawned, stepping toward Mr. Reichardt's desk in one corner of the living room.
Although tired, Charlie gathered the linen and blankets without being asked while his mother unfolded the couch mattress. Patty, meanwhile, retreated to the bathroom to change back into her orange nightgown, and she rejoined them just as Charlie finished putting the pillows into pillowcases. With his task done, Mrs. Brown sent Charlie to bed. He sighed gratefully and trudged, almost like a sleepwalker toward the hall.
As he passed her, Peppermint Patty grabbed his hand, stopping him.
"Thanks, Chuck, ol' buddy," she smiled apologetically. "This is even better than you being a watchdog."
He smiled back. "It was Mom's idea. I almost walked across town to guard your house."
She started to laugh, but then she dropped her gaze. "You're a good friend, Chuck. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. It's not your fault if Snoopy shirks his duties. I was just a little nervous, you know, about being all alone, and you know how sometimes you get mad when you're a little scared and very tired. But I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Forget about it, Patty," he said kindly, causing her to look up in surprise.
"You're a decent sort, Chuck."
The two exchanged another set of smiles; then Patty smirked.
"You haven't let go of my hand while we've been talking, Chuck," she teased. "You sly dog."
Charlie rolled his eyes, sticking out his tongue, and Peppermint Patty finally released his hand, allowing him to go to bed. Patty climbed under the covers and settled down. Mrs. Brown brought out an extra quilt from the linen closet.
"It's a little cold tonight," she said, draping it over Patty. "You need extra, feel free to grab it, dear."
"You're a swell lady, Mrs. B," Patty smiled up at her. "I can see where Chuck gets his niceness."
Mrs. Brown sat down on the edge of the couch below Patty's feet.
"He wasn't kidding," she told Patty. "He would have gone to your house if I hadn't been awake to stop him."
"He's a great guy," Patty nodded with her head on the pillow. "Lotsa kids call him wishy-washy — I do too sometimes, when I get frustrated with him — but he just doesn't like offending people, and he still helps his friends even after they yell at him. …Like I did earlier," she added with a repentant sigh.
Mrs. Brown studied her tired face with the trained eye of a mother, now that her instincts had been awakened. Although Patty had stayed at their house before, Mrs. Brown did not know her as well as Charlie's other friends, like the Van Pelt siblings or Schroeder. While talkative, Patty had not told the Brown parents much about herself, preferring to spend the time with Charlie, when she could get his attention away from the television. Before, Mrs. Brown had not wanted to make Patty feel uncomfortable with too many inquiries, but having her son almost risk his life to go out and help his friend removed Mrs. Brown's usual reservations.
"Does your daddy leave you alone a lot, dear?"
"Only when he really has to," Peppermint Patty replied. "He hates leaving me alone as much as I hate being alone. He calls me his 'rare gem,' you know."
"Do you have any family nearby that you can stay with?"
"Not really. My grandparents on Daddy's side live hours away, and the other pair live in a different part of the country. I haven't really seen them since my mom died. Flying makes them nervous, and we don't get many chances to go see them."
"What about your neighbors?"
Patty shrugged. "We used to have a lady who babysat me, but her son moved her into a retirement home, and Dad doesn't really like our other neighbors, so I stay by myself. Daddy knows I'm a tough girl. Girls can do anything, you know."
"But it's okay for girls to ask for help too, sometimes," Mrs. Brown reminded her.
"That's why I called Chuck to borrow Snoopy," Patty replied matter-of-factly.
Mrs. Brown thinned her lips without meaning to, but she quickly hid her disapproval for Patty's sake. After all, the child had no control over what her widowed father did, and going off on a rant, even in righteous anger, would not help Patty. Mrs. Brown forced a light smile.
"Want a glass of water before you go to bed, dear?"
Patty nodded, and Mrs. Brown quickly retreated to the kitchen. Busying herself getting the ice allowed her to collect her thoughts, and she was sunnier when she at last returned to her little guest. Patty accepted the glass, wearing a thoughtful look.
"My mom used to get me water when I was little," she smiled wistfully. "I almost forgot about that."
"I'm sure she would want you to be safe," Mrs. Brown pointed out gently. She leaned against the armrest. "Patty, how would it be, if the next time your dad went out of town, you spent the night with us?"
"Aw, I wouldn't want to impose on you again, Mrs. B," Patty answered, but a light of interest appeared in her gaze.
"Well, why don't you sleep on it, dear, and I can call your father in the morning?" Mrs. Brown suggested.
Patty did not offer another protest, and when Mrs. Brown turned off the light, Patty wore a wide smile.
THE END