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Authors: Donna Jo Napoli

Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries (6 page)

BOOK: Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries
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I thought of Taxi. “You're teaching him to bite cats,” I said.
“Oh. I didn't think of that.” Melody wrestled the cat away from Pong.
Pong yipped.
“He's acting normal,” I said.
“But he wasn't before. Really.”
“Show me what he did,” I said. “Maybe then he'll do it again.”
Melody squatted. Then she jumped. Then she squatted.Then she jumped in the other direction.
Pong ran around her. He leaped at her. But he didn't do what she did. “He's normal,” I said.
“Stop saying that.” Melody stood up. “Pong is sick.”
“He doesn't act sick,” I said.
“Maybe he won't do it in front of anyone else.”
“I have homework,” I said. I went to the door.
“But I hired you,” said Melody.
“I need to think now.That's part of the job. Call me if he acts weird again.”
No Good
I sat on the back stoop with a notebook and a dictionary.
Taxi pushed her head into my side. She was still mad at me for leaving her in the house.
I put my hand over her face and mushed her. It sounds bad. But I did it gentle. She loves it.
I had twenty spelling words. I had to use each one in a sentence. The first one was
evolve
. I opened the dictionary.
Evolve
means to develop. I wrote my first sentence:
My father is a photographer, so he evolves his own pictures
.
It wasn't true. My father has his pictures developed at the drugstore. But it was the best sentence I could think of.
I did the next six words just as fast.
“You're no good.” Brian stood beside me.
“Don't bother me now,” I said. “I have homework.”
“You let Taxi out,” said Brian. He pointed a finger at Taxi.
Taxi was now resting in the dirt.
“Wilson killer,” he screamed at her.“Murderer.”
“You don't know for sure that Taxi killed Wilson,” I said.
Brian walked over to Taxi. He grabbed her head and tried to pull open her jaw.
Taxi screeched and ran away.
“See?” said Brian. “She killed Wilson.”
“How do you know?”
“She ran away,” said Brian. “She's guilty.”
Brian knew nothing about anything.
“Come on, Brian. Wilson might be happily digging a tunnel under your grass right now.” It was possible, anyway.
“Wilson would hate tunnels,” said Brian. “I do. They scare me. Wilson would like ponds. But we don't have a pond in our yard.”
A mouse in a pond? But what was the point of arguing. “Maybe Wilson didn't stay in your yard,” I said.
“You just want to pretend you have a good cat. But you don't,” said Brian. “Your cat's no good. And you're no good.”
“Bye, Brian.” I picked up my things and went inside.
Phone Call
I finished my spelling list in no time.
I opened my science book.
The phone rang.
My mother answered it. “Sly, it's for you.”
I went into the kitchen. My mother handed me an apple and the phone.
I took a bite. “Hello?” I said between chews.
“He did it again,” said Melody.
“Is he doing it now?” I said.
“No.”
“Were you playing catch when he started?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Don't play catch,” I said.
“Okay.”
“And don't teach him to bite cats.”
“We didn't use the stuffed cat,” Melody yelped. “We never use it. I just brought it out today because we were in the house. We usually play catch with a ball. But my mother won't let me throw a ball in the house. So I was going to use the cat. Just that once,” said Melody. “Stop saying I'm teaching Pong to bite cats. I'm not.”
I waited to see if she was finished.“All right,”I said.
“Bye,” said Melody.
“Bye.”
I looked out the window.
Brian was crawling again. This time he was in my yard.
That was my fault. I told him Wilson might have left his yard.
“Sly, come in here please,” said Mother.
I went to Mother.
“Your first sentence makes no sense,” said Mother. She held my spelling homework. “That's not how to use
evolve
.”
“The dictionary said
evolve
means to develop,” I said.
“It does mean that. But it usually means to develop over time—over a long time. Like how some small dinosaurs evolved into birds. And you can't evolve something else—things just evolve on their own.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Daddy doesn't develop his own pictures,” said Mother.
“I just wanted to make an interesting sentence.”
Dictionaries are dumb.They don't give enough information. And I just realized something: I needed more information.
Outside
I went outside.
“Hi, Brian.”
“I can't find Wilson.” Brian sat back on his heels. He looked sad. “Taxi is a murderer.”
“You can't know that for sure.”
“Watch.” Brian jumped around like a madman.
He reminded me of something. I couldn't think what.
Taxi came from under the bushes. She sat on the stoop. She watched Brian.
“See?” said Brian. “Taxi wants to eat me.”
Oh, now I got what all that jumping was. “You didn't look like Wilson, Brian.”
“Maybe not to you.”
Brian had a point. And he was becoming pathetic. “All right, Brian, tell you what. If you don't find Wilson by Saturday, I'll take my allowance and buy you a new mouse.”
“I don't want a mouse,” said Brian.
“Come on, Brian, all mice are the same.”
“I know. That's why I don't want one.”
There was no hope to this conversation. “See you later, Brian.”
I walked into Brian's yard, through the rear hedges, and into Melody's yard.
I knocked on her back door.
Melody opened the door. She held Pong in her arms. He wiggled when he saw me.
“Where did you play catch with Pong?” I said.
“In the backyard,” said Melody.
“Get the ball,” I said.
“But you said not to play catch anymore.”
“Just get the ball.”
Monkey
Melody and Pong ran outside.
I followed.
“Let's play monkey in the middle,” said Melody.
That sounded good to me. Melody throws fine. I throw even better. I play baseball, after all.
Melody threw me the ball.
Pong ran toward me and jumped.
I threw Melody the ball.
Pong ran back toward Melody and jumped.
Melody threw me the ball.
Pong ran toward me.
I threw Melody the ball.
Pong ran toward Melody.
Melody threw me the ball.
Pong threw himself on the ground. He panted.
Melody laughed.
I laughed.
Pong gave a breathless bark.
“He hates being the monkey,” I said. “Just play catch with him, like you did before.”
“Here, Pong.” Melody threw the ball to Pong.
Pong lay there. The ball hit him in the face. He yipped.
“Oh, poor baby,” said Melody. She ran to Pong and sat on the ground beside him. “You're so pooped, you can't move.”
I sat down too. “Does he always get pooped so fast?”
“No. Usually he chases the ball a couple of times. Then he loses interest and wanders off. That's when the weird stuff starts.”
“Have you got two bananas?” I said.
“I thought we were through with the monkey theme,” said Melody. “Besides, Pong just licks bananas. He won't eat them.”
“But we will. And we need something to eat while we wait.”
“What are we waiting for?”
I was stalling. But Melody didn't need to know that. “Just get the bananas.”
So Much Jumping Going On
We finished our bananas.
Pong was still recovering.
Finally, Pong got up. He wandered through the grass.
“Come back, Pong,” said Melody.
“Shhh,” I said. “Let him go. I need to see him act weird.”
“But he might go through the hedge into Brian's yard.”
“We can stop him if he tries,” I said.
Melody frowned. But she didn't say anything else. Pong wandered along.
Then he jumped.
“He's doing it,” said Melody. She got to her feet.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Wait.”
Pong jumped in the other direction.
Pong jumped twice in a row.
He practically flipped over and jumped in the other direction.
He looked surprised.
And he reminded me of something.
He reminded me of Brian—when Brian was trying to act like Wilson.
And now I knew what Brian had reminded me of. He reminded me of Melody—when Melody had been trying to jump like Pong.
So much jumping going on.
And Brian didn't want a new mouse.
And his mother put Wilson in a bucket.
And, what had Brian said? Wilson would like ponds.
A Bucket
“Go get a bucket,” I said.
“We can't put Pong in a bucket,” said Melody.
“It's not for Pong. Get a deep one.”
Melody ran into her garage. She brought back a beach bucket.
“Get ready,” I said. “We're about to catch Wilson.”
“Who's Wilson?”
“Brian's pet.”
“Oh. What is he?”
I didn't know for sure. “You'll see. Come on.”
I walked up behind Pong.
Pong jumped.
I snatched the little froggy in front of him. “Yay,” I said,“we found Wilson.” I dropped him in the bucket.
“Look,” said Melody. She pointed.
Pong jumped again.
I caught another frog. “Wow.”
Pong jumped.
Melody caught a frog. “Ack!” She dropped it in the grass. “Yuck, they're slimy.”
“What did you expect?”
“How many are there?” said Melody.
“I don't know. Brian never told me there was more than one.”
“I'll go call Jack. He's good at frogs,” said Melody.
No More Tears
“Got him,” said Jack. He put a frog in the bucket.
Pong jumped.
“Got him,” said Jack. He put another frog in the bucket.
I put a frog in myself.
“Got him,” said Jack.
I didn't know why Jack had to announce every frog he caught. But he was catching a lot. So it was okay.
Pong kept jumping.
Jack and I kept catching.
Finally, Pong stopped jumping.
We waited awhile.
Pong wandered.
Then he jumped.
BOOK: Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries
5.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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