The Prisoner of Snowflake Falls (26 page)

“I hear the dry heat can cause chafing,” said Andy.

“Perhaps we should go back to town and sleep on it,” said Wally. “I know a good place to hide the van.”

So that's what they decided to do. But as luck would have it, they got stuck again on the way back to town. After that, a kindly law enforcement official who was passing by decided to give them a helping hand. Unfortunately, he got kind of suspicious because all three passengers seemed very nervous. He asked to look in the van. That's when the news came over his police scanner that there had been a big robbery in Snowflake Falls. And that's how Uncle Andy, Cookie Collito and Wally Whispers—who were dangerously close to becoming solid citizens—ended up back in jail.

As you can imagine, this left me in a rather awkward position. I guess I could have stayed with the Wingates for a while. But like my Uncle Andy said, there's something about this crazy town that makes you want to do the right thing against your better judgment.

So I ended up having a long talk with Mr. Wingate about pretty much every dishonest thing I had done while living in Snowflake Falls. I confessed to taking Harley's stretch limo for a ride and being a technical advisor to my uncle regarding the burglaries.

We talked over what I should do. And—to make a long story short—Mr. Wingate got me enrolled in a program for troubled youth. That's where I am now. On a farm near Vancouver, where I get up early to milk cows and clean out horse stalls and feed chickens. They are on what you call “the honor system” here. Between you and me, it would be the easiest thing in the world to break out of the place since security is very lax. In fact, I have thought about escaping many times. But—when it comes right down to it—I don't want to let the cows down. I guess my time at Top Kow made me very sentimental when it comes to the entire cow species.

Charlotte writes me very long letters that are almost like hearing her talk. She says that her dad is now giving Biggie's a run for their money with a new business plan that includes staying open longer. I write her back and kid around, informing her that my hair has almost grown back to normal. George writes once in a while, too, keeping me up on what is happening at Top Kow. He says that when my time is up on the farm, he will gladly write me a recommendation for a job in the fast-food industry.

The biggest surprise is the dictated letter that I got from none other than Harley Howard—who got his new reader to write it out and send it to me. I expected Harley to be extra cranky about the whole robbery thing. But you know what? After a couple of pages of what you might call venting, he was surprisingly understanding. He said it took guts to turn myself in to Mr. Wingate like that. And that I had added a little zest to his life besides. He concluded his letter by saying that he hoped I would give total honesty a try. As he put it, “You might find it a refreshing change of pace.”

I get to talk to Uncle Andy from prison once in a while. Like Wally and Cookie, he is back behind bars for the foreseeable future. The last time we conversed, I asked him if he thought I should have confessed my crimes to Mr. Wingate. “What can you do?” he said. “You're just like your mother.” Then I told him I loved him, and he told me to not get kicked by a cow.

Uncle Andy told me that Cookie is working on an invention in prison. It is an anti-theft device especially designed for golf carts. Apparently, there is a golf-cart manufacturer who is thinking about paying him big bucks for his invention.

If it all works out, Cookie said we could all come and live with him in Arizona—which he refers to as “the golf course capital of the world.” Of course, most of us have to wait until we're liberated from our current governmental responsibilities. I must say, I think about our Arizona dream a lot. I guess a lot depends on whether my Uncle Andy can lead a more honest lifestyle once his time in prison is done. Maybe I am being too optimistic. But I hope that we can all live together someday.

They work you pretty hard on this farm. But it is a good kind of work. Also, it gives you a lot of time to think about the sort of person you really want to be. I wrote a long letter to Old Maurice and he was very understanding. He even offered me a job as a dishwasher in his restaurant, after my time on the farm. It comes with a bonus of free room and board and the promise to look after me until things get a little more settled.

I told Old Maurice that I could get a recommendation from George. But he said I didn't need it. The whole thing sounds like a good deal to me. And I think I'm going to take him up on it, if Social Services gives us the okay. Old Maurice says he will do everything he can.

I think about my Uncle Andy a lot. I discovered that he had written a big letter of apology to Ms. Pendergast. And I think she has written back. I don't know if Ms. Pendergast is the totally forgiving type, but I think the fact that she wrote back made Uncle Andy feel a little better. And, like Charlotte says, you never know what will happen when people start writing letters to each other.

A few days ago, I got a package from my uncle. It was a puzzle that came complete with a letter. The letter read
Dear
Henry, This puzzle may help pass the time. I had it specially
made for you at Christmas, but it was not ready in time. See you
when I get out of jail. P.S. When you're working on the puzzle,
pay close attention to the bottom part. It's tricky.

It took me a long time to finish the puzzle, a very complicated nature scene with lots of blue sky. The bottom part was tricky but worth it. Because when I was all done, it read
I love you too. Uncle Andy
.

My uncle once told me that the best part of any puzzle is watching the picture slowly take shape. “Puzzles are a lot like life,” he said. “Once everything fits into place, there's nothing left to discover.” I think about that a lot when I'm lying in bed and trying to figure out why I miss Oscar's snores and Charlotte's nagging.

In a way, my Uncle Andy is right. Since the puzzle takes up a lot of space in my room, I should probably take the thing apart and put it back in the box. One of these days, I'll get around to doing just that.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I could not have embraced with such complete happiness the sort of world this novel represents if it weren't for the early inspiration provided by three of my literary heroes. Accordingly, I'd like to pay homage to Damon Runyon, Lawrence Block and Donald E. Westlake for consistently nurturing my fascination with the comic potential of larceny.

I'm grateful to Jesse Finkelstein for her kind advice during the early stages of the manuscript. I'd like to thank everyone at Orca, with a lingering note of gratitude to Art Director Teresa Bubela. I'm especially indebted to my editor Sarah Harvey. Without her grace, insight and boundless affection for the manuscript, this would have been a very different book. Continued thanks for the unwavering support of my longtime agent Carolyn Swayze, along with a special shout-out to the intrepid Kris Rothstein. Lastly, I'd like to thank my family. Their abiding love and support is an integral part of this book.

JOHN LEKICH
is a Vancouver-based author and free-lance writer whose work has appeared in such publications as
Reader's Digest
, the
Los Angeles Times
and
The Hollywood
Reporter
. A former West Coast arts correspondent for
The Globe and Mail
, he is the recipient of ten regional and national magazine awards. His favorite interview subjects include Audrey Hepburn, George Plimpton, Garrison Keillor and silent screen star Lillian Gish.

John is the author of two previous young adult novels,
The Losers' Club
and
King of the Lost and Found
. He is currently working on a new novel.