Veronica Ganz

By Marilyn Sachs

Veronica Ganz is a bully. She has beaten up everybody in all her classes and has never been challenged…until little Peter Wedemeyer, who only comes up to her shoulder, moves into the neighborhood. Taunting, teasing and always one step ahead of her mighty fists, Veronica must find a way to teach him who is boss. Or maybe Veronica could learn something from Peter… Juvenile Fiction for ages 9-12 by Marilyn Sachs; originally published by Doubleday

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belgrave House
• Release date: Apr 1, 1968
• ISBN: 9781610845724

Marilyn Sachs

Marilyn Sachs is the author of more than forty books, including A Pocket Full of Seeds, Lost In America, and First Impressions, and was a National Book Award finalist for The Bears' House. She lives in San Francisco.

Book preview

VERONICA GANZ

Marilyn Sachs

Chapter 1

"Veronica Ganz

Doesn’t wear pants.

Veronica Ganz

Doesn’t wear pants."

They had just passed the fish store on Boston Road when they heard it. Veronica gripped Mary Rose’s arm and whispered, Keep walking!

Aw, Veronica, Mary Rose began whining, just forget it today. Stanley’s waiting for us, and Mama left a quarter on the table, and the place closes at four-thirty. Please Veronica, not today, Veronica.

But Veronica just gave her one look, that familiar look, and Mary Rose started whimpering, Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not my fault.

Just shut up, and keep walking, Veronica hissed. She slowed her pace, and waited. Sure enough, it came again, louder and clearer this time.

"Veronica Ganz

Doesn’t wear pants.

Oh—Veronica Ganz

Doesn’t wear pants."

Peter Wedemeyer, Veronica said decisively. I’ll kill him.

How do you know it’s him? said Mary Rose.

Because he lisps, said Veronica. Can’t you hear? He says, ‘Veronica Ganth, doethn’t wear panth.’ It’s him all right.

But where is he?

Veronica cast a quick look over her shoulder. Behind the ice truck in front of the fish store. You can see his feet. Just wait till I get my hands on him!

She looked around her again with an experienced eye, examining the terrain.  O.K., Mary Rose, listen! Here’s the candy store. Let’s make believe we’re going inside. She turned Mary Rose toward the store and slowly, very slowly, so that Peter was sure to see them, she began walking toward the entrance. We’ll wait till he says it again. He’ll stick his head out to say it, and then duck back again. As soon as he does, I’ll sneak up the block, cross the street, and double back on him from there. Meanwhile, you stand here and keep looking in the store like you’re waiting for me. Kind of stamp your foot once in a while like you’re sick of waiting, and maybe even yell ‘Veronica,’ and I’ll—.

"Veronica Ganz

Doesn’t wear pants."

Veronica flew up the block, crossed the street, and, stooping low on the sidewalk behind the parked cars there, began tracking her quarry. She could see him now, very clearly, hiding behind the ice truck, and peeking out every once in a while. There was Mary Rose in front of the candy store, playing decoy. Good old Mary Rose! Even though she was a fink, in moments like this, she sure was a help. Carefully Veronica moved silently along, narrowing the distance between Peter and herself.

Hey, Veronica, what are you doing? There was Rita Ferguson standing there, grinning. Big mouth! Get lost! Veronica snapped, and made a little move toward her. Rita went scuttling off down the street. Now for Peter. He’s been asking for it, Veronica reflected, as she continued padding along behind the cars. Peter was a new kid in her class, new in the neighborhood, too. He and she hadn’t been properly introduced, she thought with a grim smile, and lately some troublesome things had been happening. Somebody kept throwing her coat off the hook in the clothes closet, and somebody had put a tack on her seat this morning. She’d had her suspicions all right. Nobody else in the class would dare to tangle with her. They’d all been through it already one way or another. But every new kid, sooner or later, had to be educated. The girls were easy. They’d giggle or whisper about her, and generally one loud slap in the face kept them in line. She didn’t really enjoy fighting girls. They just stood there and cried. Boys were more interesting. Frank Scacalossi, for instance—he’d been interesting, and harder to beat than anyone else. Probably what she ought to do, as soon as a new kid arrived, was right away give him a poke in the nose so there wouldn’t be any question in his mind about who she was. Not that she really minded a good fight with all the trimmings, but some days it just was not as convenient as others. Now today, it was not convenient at all, but maybe if she got it over with quickly, she and Mary Rose could still get over to the day-old bakery.

Carefully she raised her head from behind the blue Chevy and gazed thoughtfully at Peter’s back. She was in a direct line with him now, and it was just a question of whether she should rush out at him from where she was standing, or continue up the block and make a charge on his right flank. More cautious that way, of course, but today she just did not have all the time in the world. She’d take a chance. Besides, if she caught him head on she could just drive him against the truck, which would be a convenient place to hold him and bang his head.

She looked up and down the street. No cars. Here goes! She flew out from behind the car, dashed across the street, and grabbed Peter just as he was beginning to poke his head around the side of the truck and holler. In fact, his mouth was halfway open, and his beginning cry of Ver ... was shouted, but never finished, into Veronica’s grinning face.

Did you call? Veronica inquired politely, as she lined Peter up against the back of the truck and banged his head against it.

Peter closed his mouth. His face turned pasty. This would not take too long, Veronica knew.

Well, here I am, said Veronica, banging his head again. A few more bangs, one or two pokes, and it would be over. But Peter kicked her hard in the shins and flew off into the sanctuary of the fish store.

That lousy little shrimp! Veronica thought, standing uncertainly in front of the fish store and gazing inside. He kicked me. Peter was the smallest kid in the class, but Veronica knew that size was no measure of a challenger’s mettle. It was frequently the little kids who gave her the most trouble. Howard Tannenbaum, now, another shrimp, and only in the seventh grade, had cut her lip so badly last month that she hadn’t been able to chew for a couple of days. Of course, a cut lip was nothing compared to what she had done to Howard. But that was all water under the bridge, and right now Peter was hiding in the fish store, and how was she going to get him out?

She snapped her fingers at Mary Rose, who was still standing near the candy store. Mary Rose came running.

Where’d he go? she asked. What happened?

In there, Veronica said. He kicked me. Oh, will he be sorry! Now, go inside, and tell him to come out. Tell him I’m waiting, and I don’t have all day.

Mary Rose entered the fish store. In a minute, she was back. He won’t come.

Tell him, said Veronica, if he doesn’t come out, I’ll come in and get him.

He said come and get him, Mary Rose said, reporting back.

Veronica weighed the various possibilities. She could just stand around and wait for him to come out. Sooner or later, he’d have to come out. Or, she could go in and get him. Trouble with that was there were grownups inside who were certain to break it up, and equally certain to yell at her, and call her a bully, and tell her to pick on someone her own size even though he had started it. Or she could wait until tomorrow and catch him on the way to school.

Come on, Veronica, pleaded Mary Rose, let’s go home. You can get him tomorrow.

She looked up at Mary Rose’s anxious face in distaste. Her mind was made up. She’d get him today. Maybe somebody would break it up, but not before she’d given him a few wallops he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

She strode into the store. The fish man was busy waiting on a woman, and another customer was inspecting the gills of a big fish lying on the ice. Peter was crouched down at the end of the counter. Jerk! Veronica thought. Does he think I don’t see him there?

Come on, Peter, Veronica crooned, walking quickly toward him. Come on home, Peter. Mama’s got a nice bottle of milk waiting for you. Come on, baby.

Peter stood up and waved. Funny kid! Come and get me, he said, grinning.

Veronica smiled a wide, loving smile, and rushed forward with both arms outstretched. She saw him stoop down, and just as her fingers were

Reviews for Veronica Ganz

[homeschoolmimzi · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this book when I was a child. I loved it. It would be fun to find this book again and re-read it. I wonder if I'd like it as much?