Read Hold the Pickles Online

Authors: Vicki Grant

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #ebook, #Teenagers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Family & Relationships, #book, #Life Stages

Hold the Pickles (5 page)

BOOK: Hold the Pickles
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I did the only thing I could think of. I climbed out of the garbage bag and hid behind a trash can.

I realized pretty fast that wouldn't work either. The janitor would pick up the half-empty bag of paper towel, and then he'd pick up the trash can and empty it.

So much for my hiding place.

So much for my life.

Chapter Thirteen

I had pretty much accepted that I was going to die of embarrassment at the ripe old age of fifteen when—just like that—my salvation appeared right in front of me.

Cupcake Katie.

He was striding past my hiding place, chatting away with a large burrito all gussied up in a sombrero and extra cheese. I'd like to say it was my lightning-fast mind that found the solution to my problem, but it wasn't. It was more like mascot's intuition or something. I just stood up straight and slipped in between the two of them. I knew they'd never be able to see me through their little pretend eyes. Their foam bodies were big enough that I was pretty much hidden from everyone too.

Even better, they just happened to be heading to the men's room. Miracle of miracles. I got all the way there with them unnoticed, then slipped into my old cubicle before they had a chance to get out of their costumes. I crouched on the toilet seat so they couldn't see my bare legs. If Shane had been able to recognize me by my ankles, why couldn't the cupcake?

I knew I was still in a bad situation, but this kind of took the edge off it. There was something just so great about being able to use Cupcake Katie to make my getaway. I was feeling pretty smug—at least until they started to talk.

“You hear the news?” I figured that had to be the burrito, because I didn't recognize the voice.

“No. What?”

“Pickpockets.”

“You're kidding.” Cupcake Katie didn't sound that impressed. “Does my icing look like it's on straight to you?”

The burrito raised his voice over the sound of running water. “Push it a little to the left…Yeah. There. You got it.”

“Have they caught anyone?”

“Not yet. But I've got a pretty good idea who's doing it.”

“Oh, yeah. Who?”

“That lame hotdog.”

My ears perked up. No, I thought. They couldn't possibly be talking about
me
.

The burrito went on, “You know. The one that tried to horn in on your territory? Frank Lee Awful or Frank Lee Inedible or something like that.”

They had a laugh over that. I, on the other hand, almost had a heart attack.

Cupcake Katie said, “No way. He wouldn't pickpocket anyone.” I was flattered that he came to my defense. “He's too much of a klutz! Didn't you see? I barely touched him, and he went down like a rock.”

I heard a strip of paper towel being ripped off.

“No, no. You don't understand.” It was the burrito again. “He doesn't actually
do
the pickpocketing. He's the decoy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He lures the people over with the samples, then his ‘associates' pick their pockets.”

The cupcake snorted. “He'd get a lot more victims if he had samples you could actually eat.”

Good point. I hoped that would put an end to this ridiculous discussion.

“Yeah—but that's what's so great about his plan. The guy's a lot smarter than he looks. His samples are so revolting that all anyone can think is, ‘Get this out of my mouth!' They're not worrying about their wallets. You could rob them blind, and they wouldn't care.”

“Brilliant,” Cupcake Katie said. “I mean, in a sick sort of way. The hotdog must be raking in the money. Did you see the pile of people he had when we walked by just now?”

“Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if the owner's in on it too. He's so hard up these days, he'd take money any way he can. Last week he tried to talk me into working for him, but I said no way. He only offered to pay ten bucks an hour! Can you believe it?”

“Ten bucks an hour? You're kidding! That's highway robbery. I wouldn't do it for anything less than twenty.”

“Me neither…Oh well. Look at the time, would ya? It's quarter to three. Better get going.”

“Yeah…Whoa, José. You got some toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”

They walked out the door. The last thing I heard was the burrito saying, “Next time I see that security guard, I'm going to tell him to go after the wiener. Guys like that should be in jail.”

Chapter Fourteen

I sat on the toilet. Without that hot, sticky garbage bag, I was shivering. Could this day get any worse? The burrito was going to run to the security guard with his ridiculous theory. Next thing I'd know, Hammy and Brooke would be dragged to the police station in chains.

I'd feel bad about Hammy, but I'd feel worse about Brooke. She was prettier. But that wasn't the only reason. She seemed so innocent. She was just some poor girl who wanted to have a bit of fun.

I pictured Brooke in the hotdog costume dancing around. Then another image popped into my head. I saw Kelsey circling the crowd—Kelsey, who was always rummaging around in her big red purse.

The burrito's words came back to me.
His associates pick their pockets
. I got a sick feeling. It dawned on me that his theory might not be that crazy after all.

There was something about Kelsey I didn't like right off the bat. She was different from Brooke. Somehow, I just knew she had to be behind this. What was she putting in that purse of hers?

I remembered something else. Shane asking me for money. That in itself wasn't unusual—Shane was just that kind of guy. But he'd said he'd lost his wallet. What if he was wrong? What if it had been stolen?

I thought back. He'd taken a sample from me and then run off to spit it out. That was the first time I met Kelsey. She must have been right behind him. With Shane focused on food and a pretty girl, it probably wasn't that hard to take his wallet out of his back pocket without him noticing. It all fit.

I bit my knuckles. What had I done? I was supposed to be helping Uncle Hammy in his time of need. Instead, I'd torn the thousand-dollar costume, thrown his samples all over the floor and somehow made it look like he was the kingpin of a pickpocket racket. (Not an easy thing to do, considering I'm talking about Hammy Hogg.)

Now Brooke was mixed up in this too.

I shouldn't have lied to her. I should have told her how horrible it was inside the costume. Then she never would have put it on. She never would have found herself in this mess.

If the burrito got a chance to talk to the security guard, I was going to be in big trouble. We were all going to be in big trouble.

I couldn't let that happen.

I stuck my head out the washroom door. The hall was still crowded with people. I scanned the room for signs of Brooke. I was worried I'd never find her, but then, bingo! I spotted Frank's blue cape. Brooke was leaning against the wall near the Bison Burger stand. It looked like she was taking a rest.

“Psst! Brooke!” I called to her, but she didn't turn around. She must have been too far away to hear. I wondered where Kelsey was. Maybe she was using someone else as a decoy now.

If I could warn Brooke to get out of the costume, I might still be able to save her.

“Brooke!” I was practically screaming.

She didn't move, but a number of other people turned around. That's when it dawned on me. The last thing in the world I wanted was for Brooke to see me in my underwear. Yes, I wanted to save her, but I didn't want to blow my chances with her when I did.

I tried to think of a way out of my predicament. I couldn't use this garbage-bag getup anymore. I had to be able to reach her fast without her seeing what I looked like. I noticed toilet paper on the floor. That must have been the bit that was stuck to the burrito's shoe.

That gave me an idea. I stepped out of the garbage bag and got to work.

Chapter Fifteen

Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

I grabbed the end of a roll of toilet paper. I started at my forehead and kept winding and winding and winding the tissue around myself until I got to my toes. I went through three rolls. I poked holes for my nostrils and wrapped it around my biceps a few extra times just so they didn't look so scrawny. I thought I may as well impress Brooke while I had the chance.

I stood back and looked at myself in the mirror. I probably should have put my glasses
over
the toilet paper not under it. They made a weird lump in the middle of my face, but still…I had to give myself credit. Considering what I had to work with, this wasn't a bad disguise.

I'd just thrown the empty tubes of toilet paper in the trash can when the door banged open and a guy rushed in.

The
guy.

The there-won't-be-enough-of-you-left-to-make-hotdogs guy.

Blue Boy.

He looked me up and down. For a second, I thought he recognized me, but then he said, “You some kind of mascot or something?”

“Ah. Yeah,” I said. This was working out better than I thought it was going to.

“What for?”

“Mummy's Home Cooking.” It just came to me. I thought it was pretty clever, but Blue Boy looked like he didn't believe me. “You've heard of us, of course,” I said. “Everyone's dying to try our, ah, Pharoah's Phries.” I nudged him with my elbow, but he didn't laugh. He squinted at me suspiciously and said, “Well, okay…” as if this was a test and I just barely passed.

He started kicking open the cubicles like he was a narc on a drug raid, and I darted out the door. The guy was clearly crazy. I would have run out of there even if I didn't have something important to do.

I slowed down once I was back in the hall. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I'd also wrapped the toilet paper on a little tighter than I should have. It was already starting to tear. I had to focus on getting to Brooke.

Most of the people I passed ignored me, but one little girl said, “Why's that guy all covered in toilet paper, Mommy?”

“Shush, Tyler,” her mother said. “He must be ill.”

Maybe my disguise wasn't as good as I thought it was, but it didn't matter. Brooke was right in front of me now, still leaning against the wall by the Bison Burger.

I was happy until I realized I didn't know what I was going to say to her. She couldn't find out it was me. She wasn't the type of girl who would fall for some dork wrapped in bathroom tissue. I decided to play dumb.

“Excuse me, would you happen to be Brooke?” I said. I was going to tell her I was a friend of Frank's and had a message for her. She didn't answer.

“Brooke?” I said.

That's when I noticed she wasn't leaning against the wall. She was
slumped
against the wall, as if she was unconscious. That scared me. I knew how hot it got inside that costume. She could have fainted or gotten sick.

“Brooke?” Still no answer. Maybe that soap I used was toxic. I slapped my hand against my chest, and my elbow ripped through my toilet paper sleeve.

I leaned down to see if she was all right. I could smell her rose perfume.

“Brooke…? Are you all right? Brooke?” I gave her a little shake.

The costume was empty.

Chapter Sixteen

I don't know if it was the rose perfume or the shock of finding out that Brooke was gone, but my body reacted. I jerked forward and sneezed so hard that I tore the face and bum right out of my costume. It was pretty much toast after that.

The impact knocked Frank to the ground. I saw with horror that his whole left side was covered in dirt and ketchup (not his own).

A thousand bucks. That's what I kept thinking. Poor Hammy.

Poor me.

I looked at the big clock in the middle of the hall.
2:58
. Despite all his faults, Hammy was always on time. He would be here any minute. I instinctively turned toward the stairs to check if I was too late.

I didn't see Hammy, but I saw something else.

A big red purse.

I squinted through the crowd. Yes. That was Kelsey's purse. Over by the exit. I stood on my tippy toes. Kelsey was talking to someone. He turned toward me.

It was Shane.

He moved his big square head, and I saw that Brooke was there too. She had her hand on his arm and was laughing.

With all the trouble I was in and all the trouble I was
going
to be in, I should have been worrying about more important things than whether a girl liked me or not. But I wasn't. All I could think was, Brooke's laughing at one of Shane's jokes.

It broke my heart. As if on cue, the bit of toilet paper still clinging to my hips slid to the floor. Standing there in my underwear, I couldn't deny it any longer. Shane really was more Brooke's type than I was.

I heard the squeal of a door opening and turned around. Blue Boy came barreling out of the washroom and was running right for me. He was talking into his shoulder, just like they do in the movies.

I suddenly understood.

The outfit. The beefy build. Kicking
the cubicles open.
This guy
was
the security guard.

I turned again and saw Hammy, right on schedule, walking through the middle of the crowd. He had fresh samples on his tray and a big grin on his face.

I read somewhere that when a person is in the middle of a disaster, things happen in slow motion. I can now say for a fact that it's one-hundred-percent true.

Everything wound down. The sound turned off. I saw the world clearly.

The security guard was going to arrest me, either for pickpocketing or public nudity or both. Hammy was going to watch it happen and then get arrested too. So was Brooke. For one brief moment I pictured the two of us, together at last. I was almost looking forward to it until I realized the paddy wagon probably wasn't the best place to start a relationship. Meanwhile, Kelsey was going to walk out the door with all the money in her big red purse.

BOOK: Hold the Pickles
6.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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