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Authors: Richard Peck
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as we all try to see who can get out the door first.
That’s pretty much the way the week went. But on Thursday we quick-marched through the route, hurling papers at porches with wild abandon and bad aim. So we were downtown at the Camera Shop just before it closed.
“Game of hide-and-seek?” said the guy behind the counter, who’d been looking at the pictures. He pulled the enlargements out of a big manila envelope. We’d had them blown up to eight by tens. I was trying to elbow Flip out of the way so I could see them, but he was jamming them back into the envelope and paying the clerk.
“Come on, Flip, let’s have a look at them,” I said as he was taking giant strikes down Market Street. “Not here,” he said. “Someplace where we can concentrate.”
We could either go to The Napoli for a soda, or we could take the bus home. Finances didn’t cover both. “To the Napoli,” Flip said, so I knew he couldn’t wait, either.
The Napoli was empty at that time of evening. It smells like chocolate syrup and has the reputation of doing a little quiet business in the narcotic trade. But it has big, high-backed booths, and it’s about the only place where you can sit down in privacy.
“Come on, cut the build-up,” I said.
“Order first.” So we ordered—the usual: all-chocolate sodas with sprinkles. And two waters on the side.
“Now,” I said.
“Now.” And he began to pull the pictures out of the envelope slow and easy, trying to drive me crazy. He acted like he was going to keep both of them, but, at the last second, scooted one across the table at me.
So we both look. My stomach’s turning over. We exchange them and look again.
Then we look at each other. “Might have known,” Flip said finally.
It was clear as anything. In both pictures. The face looking out from behind the tree belonged to Elvan Helligrew. A big, round moon-face.
I should have been relieved. At least, it wasn’t some mad monster or a stranger. It was, at least, somebody we knew. Somebody harmless. And I should have been mad too. Since, instead of taking our route for us that day, Elvan had been stalking us through the park, poking his nose into our private business. But I don’t know. I still had this weird feeling. In a way, I felt embarrassed for Elvan for doing it. And too, I still felt insecure. Like we thought we were alone, but we weren’t. Like you’re always at the mercy of somebody or something that’s watching when you’re not. But instead, I said to Flip, “Well, that clears up the mystery.”
“Part of it,” he said. Then the sodas came.
We had to walk home, but the days were gettinglonger so it was still light. In the distant past, we’d done some jump-riding: leaping up on the back bumper of the Number Five bus and hanging on for dear life. But we’d outgrown that. I was tall enough so they’d see me through the back window from inside the bus.
I could take longer strides than Flip, but he walked faster to make up for it. We headed off past the Public Library and out West Jefferson Avenue which finally ends up at the entrance to Marquette Park. But we turned off and cut across the campus of the Bible College before we got there.
Along in through there, Flip said, “I wouldn’t have thought he could manage it.”
“Who?”
“Elvan, who else? How’d he go creeping along within a few yards of us without us hearing him? Size he is, you’d think he’d sound like a rhinoceros battering down a jungle.”
“Light on his feet, I guess. He’s spongy.”
“Yeah, like a dirigible.”
We were just coming out of the other gates of the Bible College onto West Monroe Street, which is the quickest way home, when Flip said, “Well, I hate to have to do it, but we’ve got to be nice to Elvan.”
“I’d hate to have to do it too. So why?”
“Why? Use your head. We’ve got to find out why he was in the woods. We’ve got the evidence.” He waved the manila envelope. “Now we got to get to
That’s pretty much the way the week went. But on Thursday we quick-marched through the route, hurling papers at porches with wild abandon and bad aim. So we were downtown at the Camera Shop just before it closed.
“Game of hide-and-seek?” said the guy behind the counter, who’d been looking at the pictures. He pulled the enlargements out of a big manila envelope. We’d had them blown up to eight by tens. I was trying to elbow Flip out of the way so I could see them, but he was jamming them back into the envelope and paying the clerk.
“Come on, Flip, let’s have a look at them,” I said as he was taking giant strikes down Market Street. “Not here,” he said. “Someplace where we can concentrate.”
We could either go to The Napoli for a soda, or we could take the bus home. Finances didn’t cover both. “To the Napoli,” Flip said, so I knew he couldn’t wait, either.
The Napoli was empty at that time of evening. It smells like chocolate syrup and has the reputation of doing a little quiet business in the narcotic trade. But it has big, high-backed booths, and it’s about the only place where you can sit down in privacy.
“Come on, cut the build-up,” I said.
“Order first.” So we ordered—the usual: all-chocolate sodas with sprinkles. And two waters on the side.
“Now,” I said.
“Now.” And he began to pull the pictures out of the envelope slow and easy, trying to drive me crazy. He acted like he was going to keep both of them, but, at the last second, scooted one across the table at me.
So we both look. My stomach’s turning over. We exchange them and look again.
Then we look at each other. “Might have known,” Flip said finally.
It was clear as anything. In both pictures. The face looking out from behind the tree belonged to Elvan Helligrew. A big, round moon-face.
I should have been relieved. At least, it wasn’t some mad monster or a stranger. It was, at least, somebody we knew. Somebody harmless. And I should have been mad too. Since, instead of taking our route for us that day, Elvan had been stalking us through the park, poking his nose into our private business. But I don’t know. I still had this weird feeling. In a way, I felt embarrassed for Elvan for doing it. And too, I still felt insecure. Like we thought we were alone, but we weren’t. Like you’re always at the mercy of somebody or something that’s watching when you’re not. But instead, I said to Flip, “Well, that clears up the mystery.”
“Part of it,” he said. Then the sodas came.
We had to walk home, but the days were gettinglonger so it was still light. In the distant past, we’d done some jump-riding: leaping up on the back bumper of the Number Five bus and hanging on for dear life. But we’d outgrown that. I was tall enough so they’d see me through the back window from inside the bus.
I could take longer strides than Flip, but he walked faster to make up for it. We headed off past the Public Library and out West Jefferson Avenue which finally ends up at the entrance to Marquette Park. But we turned off and cut across the campus of the Bible College before we got there.
Along in through there, Flip said, “I wouldn’t have thought he could manage it.”
“Who?”
“Elvan, who else? How’d he go creeping along within a few yards of us without us hearing him? Size he is, you’d think he’d sound like a rhinoceros battering down a jungle.”
“Light on his feet, I guess. He’s spongy.”
“Yeah, like a dirigible.”
We were just coming out of the other gates of the Bible College onto West Monroe Street, which is the quickest way home, when Flip said, “Well, I hate to have to do it, but we’ve got to be nice to Elvan.”
“I’d hate to have to do it too. So why?”
“Why? Use your head. We’ve got to find out why he was in the woods. We’ve got the evidence.” He waved the manila envelope. “Now we got to get to
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