The Case of the Library Monster (9 page)

They need light.

They need heat because they can’t control their own body temperature.

Uh-oh. Eleventy-eight minutes ago I was worried about the mice. Now I’m worried about Blue Tongue, too. What if the school isn’t warm enough for him? What will happen to him if he gets too cold? I have to find him. Before it’s too late.

Where is the warmest place in the school? I wonder as Mom and I make our way toward the office the next day. If Blue Tongue is smart, he’ll be hiding in a very warm place.

We walk past a heater, but there isn’t any air blowing out of it.

Sniff ... sniff ... hey, I think I smell Blue Tongue! I also smell pancakes, sausage, butter, and maple syrup. I LOVE pancakes, sausage, butter, and maple syrup. They’re my favorite foods!

But I smell Blue Tongue, too. Really, I do! I think he’s in the cafeteria with the kids who are eating breakfast.

I pull Mom toward the cafeteria.

“Whoa, Buddy,” she says, holding tight to the leash. “Where are we going?”

“In here.”

“Hi, Mrs. Keene! Hi, Buddy!” a bunch of kids wave to us from the tables.

Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... hmm, I don’t think Blue Tongue is in
here
exactly. But he could be in the kitchen! Where there’s even more pancakes, sausage, butter, and maple syrup.

I give my leash a hard tug and pull it out of Mom’s hand. Then I race toward the kitchen.

“Buddy!” Mom calls, hurrying after me. But I’m faster than she is.

“No dogs in the kitchen!” one of the cooks says. She claps her hands and chases me around a big table.

Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... I definitely smell Blue Tongue! He’s in here somewhere. But where?

“If you can’t catch Buddy, step on his leash,” Mom says to the cook. Now they’re both chasing me around the table.

Hey, a stove is a warm place. Maybe Blue Tongue is over there.

I dart under the table and over to the stove. Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... YES! I smell him! Blue Tongue is under the stove! I stretch my front paw as far as I can, but I can’t reach him.

“Come on out of there,” I say. “You don’t belong under the stove.”

“What is that crazy dog doing?” one of the cooks asks.

“Maybe he smells a mouse,” the other cook says.

“Not a mouse,” I say. “A skink. A blue-tongued skink!”

Mom snatches my leash and tries to drag me away from the stove, but I won’t let myself be dragged away. Not this time. I paw and bite at the stove. “We have to get under there!” I tell Mom and the cooks. “We have to get that skink!”

“Should we move the stove and see what Buddy is so interested in?” one of the cooks asks.

“Yes! Move the stove,” I say, backing away a little to give them room.

One of the cooks grabs one end. Another cook grabs the other end. They count, “One, two, three” and pull the stove out from the wall.

“Careful,” I say, peering underneath. “Don’t squish Blue Tongue!”

I can see him under there. He isn’t squished. But he isn’t moving, either.

“What’s back there?” one of the cooks asks. They both peer over the top of the stove.

“I don’t know,” the other cook says. “I don’t see anything.”

“That’s because he’s still mostly under the stove,” I say. “Excuse me. Excuse me.” I nose the cooks out of the way and squeeze back behind the stove.

“Hello?” I nudge Blue Tongue with my nose.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

I think he’s okay. His eyes are open. He’s breathing. And his body feels warm against my nose.

I nudge him again.

All of a sudden he scoots through that opening between the stove and the counter. He’s out into the kitchen now.

A bunch of people in the kitchen SCREAM!

“WHAT IS IT?” yells one of the cooks.

“I DON’T KNOW,” yells another cook. “SOMEONE CALL MR. POE!”

“No, don’t call Mr. Poe,” I say, squeezing out from behind the stove. I take off after Blue Tongue. “I’ll catch him!” He may be fast, but I’m faster!

I chase Blue Tongue across the kitchen and into the lunchroom where all the kids are eating breakfast. Blue Tongue stops, turns, and scurries along the wall. I stay with him ... all the way to the corner. Now he’s stuck!

“I’ve got him,” I call over my shoulder.

“Hey, Buddy’s got something,” one of the kids says.

“What does he have?” someone else asks. A bunch of kids surround me.

“Whoa! What is that?”

In the distance I hear somebody whisper, “Oh, no! It’s Fluffy.”

Fluffy?

Who said that? Maya? She and Alex are standing at the edge of the crowd, shushing each other.

I stare at Blue Tongue. THIS is Fluffy?

Fluffy isn’t a mouse? He’s a blue-tongued skink? Who would name a blue-tongued skink Fluffy? Well ... who would name a big, black dog Mouse? There’s no understanding humans sometimes.

So what about Felix and Freckles? Felix and Freckles must not be mice either. Are they blue-tongued skinks, too? Is there more than one blue-tongued skink in this school?

“What have you got there, Buddy?” Mom asks, making her way through the crowd. Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Argus are right on her heels. “Oh!” Mom says when she sees what I have. “What is that thing?”

“It’s a blue-tongued skink,” Mrs. Warner says. She picks Fluffy up and cradles him in her arms.

Several kids crowd in to pet him, even though he doesn’t have any fur.

“Where did he come from?” Mrs. Warner asks.

“Buddy found him in the kitchen,” Mom says. “I don’t know how he got there.”

I turn to Maya and Alex. I don’t know exactly how Fluffy got here, either. But I can tell by the way Maya is biting her lip and Alex is shifting his weight from one foot to the other that they both know something about all of this.

I wonder if this is what Maya was hiding in the furnace room. But why would she hide a blue-tongued skink in the furnace room at school?

“What are you going to do with him, Mrs. Warner?” one of the kids asks.

“Call Animal Control,” Mrs. Argus says, wrinkling her nose. “Whatever it is, it clearly doesn’t belong here.”

“I think you should put him in the library. Yeah, put him in the library,” several kids suggest.

“I’ve got an empty aquarium in my classroom,” one of the teachers says, slipping away from the crowd. “You can put him in there until you decide what to do with him.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sobol,” Mrs. Warner calls after her. She turns to the rest of the group. “I’m not going to call Animal Control. This guy must belong to someone. I’ll place a lost and found ad in the newspaper and see if anyone claims him.”

Mrs. Sobol returns with an empty aquarium and Mrs. Warner carefully sets Blue Tongue inside.

“I know it’s no fun being locked up,” I tell Blue Tongue. “But trust me. You’re better off in there than you are running around loose in the school. The humans will feed you and make sure you stay warm enough. They may even take you out and play with you now and then.”

I wait for Blue Tongue to thank me for finding him, but he just sticks his skinny blue tongue out at me.

The bell rings. Mrs. Warner carries the aquarium away. The kids all go to their classes. And Mom takes me to the office.

I go over to my pillow, turn around, and plop down. It’s been a busy morning!

I should be happy. I found Fluffy before he got too cold.

I also have answers to a lot of my questions.

I know what the monster is:

He’s a blue-tongued skink.

I THINK I know where he came from:

I think Maya was hiding him in the furnace room.