The Prisoner of Snowflake Falls (22 page)

“You have a very interesting background, Mr. Holloway,” said the judge.

I didn't know what to say, so I just said, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Have you ever hot-wired a car before?”

“Yes, sir.” And just because I wanted to be totally truthful, I added, “Several times.”

“Did you hot-wire Mr. Finster's vehicle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who's idea was it to do so?”

I looked at the Wingates and the Dials and something came over me that I can't quite explain. It was a feeling that I thought might go away at any second. So, before it did, I thought I better jump right in. “The whole thing was my idea from start to finish,” I said. “Charlotte kept begging me to take it back. The only reason she was there in the first place was to make sure George and I were wearing our seatbelts.”

I couldn't believe I'd confessed to the whole thing. It pained me a great deal to admit it, but even though Uncle Andy was on his way to Snowflake Falls on some kind of secret hardware-store mission, I actually did not want to be run out of town.

I was thinking that had I made a very big mistake when the judge asked, “And what was George's role in all this?”

For a second, I was about to dump the whole thing on George's lap. Then I looked at him, with his mad-scientist hair flying off in all directions and without his pretend racing jacket. I guess I just couldn't help myself. “George had nothing much to do with it,” I said. “I convinced him to come along at the last minute.”

“Is that the truth, George?” asked the judge.

George looked at his gramma and said, “More or less.” Then his eyes started to dart around like he was really nervous. He took a deep breath. And—in a very weak voice—said, “I think I want to man-up.”

“Excuse me?” said the judge.

“Actually, Henry and I planned the whole thing together,” he said. And then, his eyes darted around a little more and he added, “Actually, it was really my idea. But Henry's right about Charlotte. She was just along for the ride.”

Suddenly, Charlotte stood up in her vice-principal's suit. “I object!” she exclaimed, like she was a big-time lawyer. “I'm just as much to blame as Henry or George.” And then she looked down at the floor and said, “I'm deeply ashamed and feel I deserve to be punished.”

“I see,” said the judge. “I'd like to see all the interested adult parties in my chambers, please.”

They were in his chambers for a long time. In the meantime, Charlotte, George and I sweated it out in another room. The room had a table with a stack of magazines, including some about the latest cars and trucks. But George was so nervous he didn't even look. Charlotte was trying to calm down by looking at her big book of haircuts. But I could tell it wasn't working.

Thankfully, the judge decided to be lenient on all three of us. This was mostly on account of the fact that Mr. Finster refused to press charges. Also George's gramma had agreed to pay for all the damages to the Wosney property. The judge took into consideration that George gave blood and was Employee of the Month at Top Kow Burgers five months running. “And let's face it,” the judge said, “nobody who knows Charlotte Wingate is going to confuse her with some evil criminal mastermind.”

The judge even ruled that “despite the special circumstances of Henry Holloway,” I was to stay in Snowflake Falls and “continue my program of rehabilitation.” He noted in my official report that Henry not only took full responsibility for his actions but—from all indications—was willing to take the blame for the irresponsible actions of others.

The upshot is that all three of us were sentenced to perform community service hours. The first thing we had to do was fix up the Wosney front garden. We also had to pick up litter on the highway. It seemed like everybody felt great about this but me.

Charlotte felt great because she was getting punished, which eased her conscience about the whole joyriding incident. Also, I think she actually enjoyed the work the judge assigned us. For one thing, it gave her the chance to boss George and me around. Of course, Charlotte referred to it as “supervision.” But it still made me want to take a shovel full of dirt and decorate her nice white running shoes.

As for George, he was wearing his new bad-boy status like it was some kind of very expensive cologne. He had a whole new lease on life. “People look at you differently after you've walked on the wild side,” he said. “I have gone from George Dial, social outcast, to Speed Dial, danger junkie.”

While George was exaggerating as usual, I noticed that the gang at Top Kow Burgers was lightening up on him quite a bit. They stopped just short of telling him that Russell the rat was totally imaginary. Even Nat was being a little nicer to him. “Can you believe that little twerp rolled down the window and called out, ‘Hey, Baby'?” she said. She always made sure to sound very sarcastic. But I could tell she was secretly flattered.

I guess word had gotten around that I had tried to take the blame for the whole Devil's Dumpster incident. Or maybe the gang at Top Kow Burgers was just bored. Anyway, they sprayed the entire surface of one of the Top Kow caps with gold paint and brought it out on one of the server trays. You know, like it was some valuable artifact from the tomb of King Tut or something. “Henry Holloway,” said Stuart. “For services above and beyond the duties of Grease Pig, we hereby present you with the highest honor at the Snowflake Falls branch of Top Kow Burgers. The coveted Order of the Golden Horns.”

Everybody started bowing like I was some pagan idol in an old adventure movie. Even Wiley got into it. “I will try to remain my humble Grease Pig self,” I said. Of course, they made me put on the hat. I looked even more ridiculous than usual.

George didn't participate in the awards ceremony. On the other hand, he didn't put a stop to it either. Away from work, he made a big deal about how I “took a bullet” for him in court and he did his best to ease my Top Kow duties. He even hired a new kid to take over as Grease Pig. “When things slack off a little here, I will put you on the graveyard drive-thru shift,” he said. “Just like I promised.”

Much to my surprise, the Wingates didn't make a big deal about the stolen-truck incident. One day when I was helping Mrs. Wingate scrub Oscar's latest masterpiece off the wall, she smiled at me. “Sometimes I don't think there's enough adventure in my life, Henry.” She sighed. “Does that sound selfish?”

I told Theodora that she was probably the most unselfish person in town. Then I asked her if she had ever done anything truly adventurous. Her eyes began to gleam behind her fake glasses. She explained that when she was first going out with Mr. Wingate, he would rent a convertible sports car for the entire afternoon. “We were just teenagers,” she said wistfully. “I used to ride in the front seat with the wind in my hair and pretend I was a movie star.”

Talking about her youth seemed to lift Mrs. Wingate's spirits. She actually started to whistle while scrubbing Oscar's drawing off the wall. To be absolutely honest, it made me feel kind of good.

Maybe I was in an okay mood because the Nutley brothers were working very fast and getting closer to finishing my room. Or maybe I just felt guilty about turning Mrs. Wingate's only daughter into an official accomplice. But I decided to do another good deed and look through Charlotte's book of haircuts with her.

“You really want to?” asked Charlotte, who couldn't believe her good fortune.

“I will even tell you my favorite haircut,” I said. It felt good to make Charlotte happy, even though Gwenivere was still out of commission.

Mind you, life in Snowflake Falls still had its downside. Since squashing Gwenivere with the Devil's Dumpster, I had to deliver my papers on foot. The only good thing about this was that Popcorn stopped chasing me. At first he'd growl when I came near the porch. But, after a while, his tongue just sort of hung out whenever he saw me. Mr. Kurtz said this was because I now had the Popcorn seal of approval.

But if Popcorn thought I was okay, Harley Howard was still enjoying taunting me with the idea of his hidden riches. One day as I was reading to him from
The Count of
Monte Cristo
, he kept asking me if I was curious about any secret treasure he kept in the house. “It could be gold bars,” he cackled, while daring me to try and crack his security code. “Stacks and stacks of them.”

Of course, I realized that the old man wanted me to fail so that he could have the pleasure of making me his personal slave. But much as I disliked his teasing, his cigar smoke was even worse. I politely asked him to stop blowing smoke in my face many times. But he just said, “These are very expensive cigars from Havana. And one of the few pleasures I have left.” Translation? Tough luck, Henry.

I tried to get back at him by reading the most obscure Elizabethan poems from The Universal Library of Immortal Literature. But no matter what I selected, or how badly I decided to mispronounce words, Harley Howard was surprisingly content. In fact, every time I deliberately stumbled on a phrase, Harley would break out in a big grin. “Let us pause to examine your ignorance,” he would say.

But then something happened that was so awesomely monumental it made me forget all about Harley Howard. For once, I was walking downtown without Charlotte or George tagging along. I spotted a big new banner over the abandoned hardware store. It read
Opening Soon! Hercules
Hardware and Security! We sell more than hardware. We sell
peace of mind!

But it wasn't the sign that got me so excited. It was the person I saw through the big picture window. It was none other than Wally Whispers, sweeping the floor. I guess I must have stood there in front of the window with my mouth hanging open for a good while. To tell you the truth, I was expecting Wally to ignore me as usual. Instead, he unlocked the door and addressed me on the street. “You are the boy who is here seeking part-time employment?” he whispered. “Why don't you come in so we can discuss your future in the thrilling world of home security?”

As soon as I got inside the store, Wally closed the blinds so that you couldn't see anything from outside. First, he apologized for ignoring me so much. He told me that he was busy getting used to his new identity. “I am now none other than Ernest T. Stubbs.” He smiled. “And I have the official identification to prove it.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stubbs,” I said very seriously.

“You can call me Ernie,” said Wally. “Now let us meet a few of your potential co-workers.”

When we got to the back room, I could see Cookie. But there was one person I wanted to see most of all. He looked a little skinnier and had grown a scratchy beard. But it was none other than my one and only Uncle Andy.

My Uncle Andy isn't much for showing his feelings. But I guess he missed me so much that he had to give me a hug. “We were just going to get in touch with you,” he said. Naturally, I wanted to know what this was all about. “It is about the letters you wrote me concerning life in Snowflake Falls,” he said. “It got me very interested in the place. I especially liked your last couple of letters about getting to know Harley Howard. That's how I got the idea about the job.”

“What job?” I asked. And then I suddenly realized what was happening. “You're going to rob Harley Howard.”

“Not just Harley Howard,” whispered Wally. “We're going to rob the entire town.”

“Well, maybe not the entire town,” corrected Uncle Andy modestly. “Just as many houses as we can infiltrate in one night.”

When I said that I didn't understand, my uncle explained that it all started when he saw this old movie they showed in prison. “It's about a gang of thieves who open a store right next to the town bank,” he explained. “The store is a place that sells luggage.”

“But the gang is not really interested in the luggage-selling business,” said Cookie. “What they are really interested in is building an underground tunnel that leads straight into to the bank vault next door.”

“But the Snowflake Falls bank is two blocks from this location,” I said.

“We are not going to build a tunnel to the bank,” said Uncle Andy. “But we are going to pretend to be upstanding businessmen who are deeply concerned with the security needs of the locals.”

“We are going to be so concerned with their security needs that we are going to supply them with everything from locks to alarms at an irresistible discount,” said Cookie. “As well, we will do all the installing for next to nothing.”

“Since we will have copies of the keys and help set the security codes, it will be a walk in the park to rob the unsuspecting citizenry,” said Wally.

“But how many people are going to actually buy new locks and security alarms?” I asked. “This is a pretty sleepy town.”

“That's why we start a little crime wave of our own making first,” said Uncle Andy. “Nothing major. Just enough to get a little healthy panic going to increase sales.”

“We will also offer free estimates for homes and businesses who are merely considering updating their security needs in the light of increased criminal activity,” said Wally. “Naturally, this will require a close inspection of the premises.”

“We figure we will have everybody set up for a mass burglary around Christmas,” said Uncle Andy. “You know, hit everyone at once and then leave town with the cash and merchandise before anyone gets wise.”

“We will be like Santa Claus,” explained Cookie. “Only in reverse.”

“Lenny has agreed to take pretty much whatever we can get our hands on,” added Wally. “Even though he will rob us like a thief on the exchange, it is still a sweet deal.”

“But how can you make sure people are going to be away from their homes all at once?” I asked.

“We need to work our job around some large-scale holiday event,” said Uncle Andy. “Something that will serve as a distraction for our needs.”