Part of Me (14 page)

Kyle didn't feel like arguing. He just leaned his head against the window while
Morning Edition
droned on. No wonder his sister was so smart, if she liked listening to this crap.

They drove until they reached the library parking lot, then got out and walked past the homeless people lingering outside, waiting for the library to open. Emma always looked at the ground when she passed them, as if they were invisible, but Kyle looked them straight in the eyes and said, “Hey. How's it going?” Usually he got a nod, sometimes a “Good morning.”

Kyle wondered what had happened to make them homeless. Did they get fired? Did they lose their entire family in some tragedy? He tried to memorize their faces like a camera taking photos. The woman with the plaid jacket and long denim skirt reminded him of his fifth-grade teacher. At first he thought it was her, but then she grinned and he noticed she didn't have any teeth. Mrs. O'Brien had long donkey-sized ones. Kyle thought the bald man with Elvis sideburns had kind eyes. Another man was almost as small as a child. He always wore a tweed jacket and a knit cap with earflaps, even though it was in the middle of the summer.

Upstairs in the youth section, Kyle helped Ms. Carol find Web sites for kids until the morning skit started. To his disappointment, none of them asked to see any hard-rock sites. They never did. They all seemed interested in subjects like gemstones and dinosaurs.

That morning, Mr. Patrick walked in with a book. Kyle averted his eyes, staring back at the monitor where he was helping a little girl find sites on butterflies. He hoped Mr. Patrick wasn't going to do what he did almost every day. Mr. Patrick would say, “Let me give you a short book talk on this great story.” Then he proceeded to give Kyle a synopsis of a young-adult novel with such excitement that Kyle clapped at the ending. But he never checked out the book. The only books Kyle had read that summer were the picture books that inspired the skits, and that was only because he had to understand how to act out his role.

Glancing up from the monitor, Kyle was relieved when Mr. Patrick placed the book on Ms. Carol's desk. He noticed the book was a Harry Potter one.

Mr. Patrick sighed. “The replacement arrived, but there's another one missing from the stacks.”

“Again?” Ms. Carol asked.

“Yep.”

Kyle kept listening while he clicked on a Web site about butterflies in Africa.

“At least they're consistent,” Mr. Patrick said. “Another Harry Potter.”

“A Harry Potter book is missing?” Kyle asked. Most of his friends had claimed to have read all of them. He'd just brushed it off as a fad.

Kyle was standing now. “Do you think somebody stole it?”

“Well, maybe,” Mr. Patrick said.

“Probably,” Ms. Carol said, shaking her head. “That's the second one.”

Kyle found this robbery talk fascinating. Imagine, a mystery right here in Algiers Public Library. “That means the thief is probably the same kid.”

Emma, who was shelving picture books, looked their way. “That's right, Detective Koami.”

Kyle gave her a you-better-not glare, but Emma just winked. When Kyle was seven, his teacher read
Encyclopedia Brown
to the class. He was so inspired that he started his own detective agency. He even posted a sign.
MYSTERIES SOLVED
—25
CENTS
.
CALL KYLE KOAMI, BOY DETECTIVE
. His mother gave him twenty-five cents for finding any of her shoes she was always misplacing, but Kyle had yearned for a real mystery to solve. For days, he spied on their neighbor Mr. Mickey with binoculars. The weirdest thing he did, though, was shake pepper on his roses.

“Almost show time,” Mr. Patrick announced, shelving
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
with the other Harry Potter books. Mr. Patrick got so caught up when it was time for a skit. He'd already forgotten his plan to keep the new Harry Potter books on Ms. Carol's desk.

Ms. Carol had forgotten, too. Her heels clicked against the floor as she rushed to the bathroom to change into her costume.

Kyle didn't mention the oversight because he decided the book would make great bait. He watched the P–T section where the Harry Potter books were shelved while the kids poured into the Story Time room. Right away, a girl went over to search the shelf and began bouncing on her toes when she saw
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
among the three first Harry Potters.

“Cool!” she said and pulled it from the shelf.

Kyle followed her until she met up with her mom standing at the circulation desk. There went the bait, thought Kyle. That girl lucked out, too, because Ms. Carol kept a list of names of people waiting for the next book in the series.

Kyle couldn't imagine any book good enough to be on some waiting list. No book could match getting a Jimi Hendrix album. Bill at The Record Shop should start a waiting list for certain in-demand titles. He could think of several times he'd asked Bill for Hendrix's
Are You Experienced?
and Bill had said, “Sorry, dude, just sold it.” If Bill kept a list, Kyle could be the first to sign up. But Bill wasn't a list kind of person. So scratch that idea.

After the last
Turnip Soup
performance, Kyle noticed a red-headed kid he'd seen the day before, but hadn't given him much thought until now. The boy wandered around the youth section, never looking at any books, always waiting for another turn on the computer. Or maybe, Kyle thought, he was just pretending to wait for it. Maybe he was really waiting for the coast to be clear when he'd go in for the big steal.

Mr. Patrick held up a white cowboy hat and a black one. “Bad guy or good guy?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to be the bad guy or the good guy? We're performing
Saving Sweetness
next week, and there's a bad guy and a good guy. There's also Sweetness, but I didn't think you'd want to play a little girl.”

“That's for sure.”

“The bad guy's part is a lot smaller.”

“Bad guy,” Kyle answered, keeping an eye on the red-headed boy.

Mr. Patrick smiled. “I thought you'd say that. Are you familiar with the story?”

“Nope.”

“Well, here's the book. Take it home over the weekend and read it. I think you'll get the idea.”

Kyle had had similar assignments from Mr. Patrick all summer. He'd read
Turnip Soup, Squash Pie,
and
The Wolf's Chicken Stew.
But those were quick reads since they were picture books. Now he was curious about that Harry Potter book. Maybe he could read just enough to get a clue. Maybe a clue hidden in the book would lead him to why some kid was stealing them. If he was lucky, maybe he'd find the clue on page one. If there was anything his days as a detective had taught him it was to keep an open mind. You never knew where you'd find a clue. So when Ms. Carol started to place another
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
on the shelf, he asked, “Can I check that out?”

*   *   *

On the ride back home, Emma said, “You checked out
Harry Potter?
”

“Yeah. Have you read it?”

“A few years ago.”

Figures, Kyle thought. “Did you like it?”

“It was okay. I don't think it lived up to the hype.”

His sister often talked about the manipulation of people's minds because of marketing ploys. Never mind that their dad made a living as an advertising executive.

At home, Kyle quickly read
Saving Sweetness.
Sweetness and the good guy may have had the biggest parts, but the best part definitely belonged to the bad guy.

Dinner at the Koamis' house always included a how-was-your-day routine. His mother had started that a year ago when they got so busy with their own schedules that dinner had become a fend-for-yourself affair.

“Enough!” Annabeth announced one night as Kyle's dad came in at eight o'clock, followed by Emma, who was back from a debate team meeting. “Dinner,” his mother stated, “will be at 6:30 every night, and everyone's presence is required. No exceptions.”

Tonight Kyle had just taken his first bite of red beans and rice when Annabeth asked him, “How was your day?”

“Fine,” Kyle said with his mouth full.

Emma dropped her fork on the plate. “Kyle checked out a book today.”

Kyle thought of kicking her under the table.

“You did?” Annabeth looked as if she'd been told the historical society had been given a huge grant. “What's the title?”

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,”
Kyle mumbled.

Paul nodded, smiling. “Ah, the result of a good marketing campaign.”

“That's what I said,” chimed Emma, not meaning the admirable way that her dad had meant.

“Well,” Annabeth said, “I think it's great that you're reading, no matter what book you chose.”

Kyle was tempted to say, I'm not really reading it. I'm looking for a clue. But he didn't want anyone to bring up the detective agency subject again.

Annabeth folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. “Well, I have some news.”

“What?” Emma asked.

“I received a letter from Gamma Rose today and she said she had a surprise for the family. She asked that we block off the last weekend in September.”

Another mystery, thought Kyle. But this one couldn't be that interesting. This involved his great-grandmother.

Emma leaned forward. “I wonder what that's about.”

“I don't know,” Annabeth said, “but Mother seems to. She called today and told me that she'd tell me all about it tomorrow when she had more time. Her bridge club was about to show up. I said, ‘Mother, you can't leave me hanging. Give me something.' She said it had to do with a bookmobile. Then she hung up.”

A bookmobile? Now Kyle knew it wouldn't be interesting.

Paul chuckled. “Sounds like she still left you hanging.”

“Didn't she used to drive a bookmobile?” Emma asked.

Annabeth nodded. “A long time ago.”

“Well,” said Kyle, “if she's going to drive it again, let me know so I can stay off
that
road.”

Emma laughed. “You should talk. You couldn't make it out of the driveway.”

Annabeth sighed. “I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out about the surprise.”

Kyle decided he could wait. After dinner, he climbed the stairs and logged on as Swampman in the hard-rock chat room. He placed the Harry Potter book in his lap until JJ appeared. They met online in that chat room a few months ago and had made it a habit to check in with each other every night around 7:30 p.m.

C.W. and Earthchild were logged on, and a few others that Kyle didn't recognize. But no JJ. So Kyle opened
Harry Potter
and began to read. He'd planned to read only a page, then check in for JJ. If he wasn't there he'd move on to the next page. Before he knew it, though, he was on page twelve. He panicked when he realized how much time had passed. Looking up at the screen, he scrolled back until he saw some chatter from JJ.

JJ: Hey Swampman, you there?

JJ: Swampman?

C.W.: Haven't heard from him tonight.

Earthchild: No Swampman here.

Orange Jell-O: He hasn't been around all night.

Kyle had never heard of Orange Jell-O and for some reason it ticked him off that Orange Jell-O would try to speak about him as if they were big buds.

JJ: Well, I'm out of here. I'm going to the Star Trek movie fest that they're having downtown.

Surprisingly, Kyle didn't feel disappointed at all. He loved talking to JJ. He knew more about Pink Floyd than anyone. But Kyle returned to the book, this time reading stretched out across his bed.

He awoke with his face between pages eighty and eighty-one.
Harry Potter
was good reading, but it made for a lousy pillow. His neck ached, though it didn't stop Kyle from continuing. Like a bear, he hibernated in his room, only coming out to eat and to use the bathroom.

He didn't want his family to know what he was doing. They had made such a big deal over the book at dinner. And Kyle didn't want them fussing over the idea of him reading. Although in some ways it would be a refreshing change to hear his dad say something positive about him. Paul Koami seemed certain that his only son was destined for a life of desolation. His mom didn't treat him like that, but she kind of babied him. Even though he was dying to discuss the book, he decided to keep it to himself.

Behind closed doors, he played a Pink Floyd album, put on his earphones, but unplugged them from the stereo, to muffle the sound. He wanted to hear the words in the book. They were taking him to a new world.

*   *   *

Monday morning, Kyle and Emma rode in silence to work as usual until Emma asked, “How'd you like the book?”

“It was all right,” Kyle said. Then he remembered his sister's review, and he risked it all, saying, “Actually, I thought it was pretty damn good.”

Emma nearly drove through the stop sign. She slammed the brakes so hard, the wheels screeched, and Kyle said, “Cool. I didn't know you had it in you.”

Kyle knew it wasn't the cuss word that unnerved her. She'd heard him cuss before. But she wasn't used to him saying anything great about any book. The rest of the way there, Emma stole side glances at Kyle as if he were an alien that took over her brother's body.

The red-headed kid was already at the library, using the first thirty-minute computer session. Kyle kept an eye on him until it was time for his debut as the bad guy.

Saving Sweetness
proved to be Kyle's favorite skit. He loved the kids booing him. And since he finished first, Kyle left the Story Time room and went to see if
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
was in. Even Janna from Genealogy had sneaked into the Story Time room to watch the rest of the skit.