Read Online Sammy Keyes and the Skeleton Man by Wendelin Van Draanen - Free Book Online
Authors: Wendelin Van Draanen
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Mikey and Marissa’s mom and how I used her Louis d’Foo-Foo sweater to put out the Bush Man’s fire.
At first Hudson just keeps circling, looking at me, then at the sweater. Then he busts up. Completely. And after a minute of his laughing and slapping his leg and shaking his head, tears are coming out of his eyes and he has to sit down to catch his breath.
So I sit down next to him and look at him real seriously. “Hudson, what I want to know is if you have five hundred dollars I can borrow. I need to replace this.”
His laughing kind of sputters to a stop, and then his chin drops. And I let him sit there like a man with a toothache for a minute, before I say, “I’m
joking
. What I really want to know is if I can use your phone to call Grams. I’m late, and she’s probably worried.”
He’s still in a bit of shock over the sweater, but he says, “Sure,” and leads me into the house.
Now I knew that telling Grams I’d been watching rare and exotic birds with Chauncy would not exactly fly as an excuse for being so late, but I figured if I told it fast enough I might be able to get
out
of trouble before I was really in it.
Once again, I figured wrong. She kept interrupting me with so many questions that finally I had to say, “Grams! Just let me tell you what happened, would you?”
When I was all done straightening everything out and Iwas sure she was done being mad at me, I said, “Grams, I have to ask you a favor.”
Silence.
“Grams?”
“What is it?”
“The whole school is going to a Halloween party tonight, and I really want to go.”
“You went out last night, Samantha.”
“I know, but this is really important. I
have
to go.”
She was quiet for a minute. “Why do you
have
to go? Whose party is it?”
Well, what am I supposed to do? Lie? Not to Grams. “Uh … Heather’s.”
For a minute I thought the phone went dead. “Heather
Acosta’s?
”
“Um … yeah.”
“But you
hate
Heather Acosta.”
“You’re right, I do, which is why I have to go!” So I tell her about the miserable day I had being the girl-in-green-shoes-with-a-crush-on-Jared-Salcido and how I’ve got to prove that Heather’s the one making the phone calls.
“But how is sneaking into Heather’s party going to help you prove that she’s the one behind the phone calls?”
“I don’t know yet, Grams. I just know that I can’t sit around while she does this to me!”
I could feel her thinking, and after a long silence she says, “
Promise
me you’ll be careful. That Heather has an evil streak.”
“I know, Grams. That’s why I’m going.”
I told her good-bye and was about to hang up when she says, “Samantha? Please be careful. And don’t go into any strange houses to put out fires tonight, okay? I worry.”
“I know you do, Grams. I love you, too.” But as I’m hanging up the phone, I’m thinking—I’ll be going into a strange house, all right, only it won’t be to put
out
a fire. This time, I’ll be starting one.
* * *
When I got to Dot’s house the porch was still full of jack-o’-lanterns, but they were looking a bit limp—like they were tired of smiling and having moths buzz in and out of their mouths all night. And when I rang the bell, Dot’s dad answered the door and
he
looked kind of limp—like he was tired of smiling and having kids buzz in and out of his house all night.
Dot, though, was full of smiles and didn’t seem tired at all. She grabbed my arm. “C’mon! I was just about to go up in the attic.”
Dot’s attic had exactly what an attic is supposed to have—boxes and boxes of junk. And with five kids in the family, believe me, there were boxes and boxes and
boxes
of junk. And I’m banging my head and bumping my elbows and in general just beating myself up trying to follow Dot through this maze of boxes, but I’m happy. I’m in an attic.
It’s easy to get sidetracked when you’re looking for something in an attic. You start looking for
At first Hudson just keeps circling, looking at me, then at the sweater. Then he busts up. Completely. And after a minute of his laughing and slapping his leg and shaking his head, tears are coming out of his eyes and he has to sit down to catch his breath.
So I sit down next to him and look at him real seriously. “Hudson, what I want to know is if you have five hundred dollars I can borrow. I need to replace this.”
His laughing kind of sputters to a stop, and then his chin drops. And I let him sit there like a man with a toothache for a minute, before I say, “I’m
joking
. What I really want to know is if I can use your phone to call Grams. I’m late, and she’s probably worried.”
He’s still in a bit of shock over the sweater, but he says, “Sure,” and leads me into the house.
Now I knew that telling Grams I’d been watching rare and exotic birds with Chauncy would not exactly fly as an excuse for being so late, but I figured if I told it fast enough I might be able to get
out
of trouble before I was really in it.
Once again, I figured wrong. She kept interrupting me with so many questions that finally I had to say, “Grams! Just let me tell you what happened, would you?”
When I was all done straightening everything out and Iwas sure she was done being mad at me, I said, “Grams, I have to ask you a favor.”
Silence.
“Grams?”
“What is it?”
“The whole school is going to a Halloween party tonight, and I really want to go.”
“You went out last night, Samantha.”
“I know, but this is really important. I
have
to go.”
She was quiet for a minute. “Why do you
have
to go? Whose party is it?”
Well, what am I supposed to do? Lie? Not to Grams. “Uh … Heather’s.”
For a minute I thought the phone went dead. “Heather
Acosta’s?
”
“Um … yeah.”
“But you
hate
Heather Acosta.”
“You’re right, I do, which is why I have to go!” So I tell her about the miserable day I had being the girl-in-green-shoes-with-a-crush-on-Jared-Salcido and how I’ve got to prove that Heather’s the one making the phone calls.
“But how is sneaking into Heather’s party going to help you prove that she’s the one behind the phone calls?”
“I don’t know yet, Grams. I just know that I can’t sit around while she does this to me!”
I could feel her thinking, and after a long silence she says, “
Promise
me you’ll be careful. That Heather has an evil streak.”
“I know, Grams. That’s why I’m going.”
I told her good-bye and was about to hang up when she says, “Samantha? Please be careful. And don’t go into any strange houses to put out fires tonight, okay? I worry.”
“I know you do, Grams. I love you, too.” But as I’m hanging up the phone, I’m thinking—I’ll be going into a strange house, all right, only it won’t be to put
out
a fire. This time, I’ll be starting one.
* * *
When I got to Dot’s house the porch was still full of jack-o’-lanterns, but they were looking a bit limp—like they were tired of smiling and having moths buzz in and out of their mouths all night. And when I rang the bell, Dot’s dad answered the door and
he
looked kind of limp—like he was tired of smiling and having kids buzz in and out of his house all night.
Dot, though, was full of smiles and didn’t seem tired at all. She grabbed my arm. “C’mon! I was just about to go up in the attic.”
Dot’s attic had exactly what an attic is supposed to have—boxes and boxes of junk. And with five kids in the family, believe me, there were boxes and boxes and
boxes
of junk. And I’m banging my head and bumping my elbows and in general just beating myself up trying to follow Dot through this maze of boxes, but I’m happy. I’m in an attic.
It’s easy to get sidetracked when you’re looking for something in an attic. You start looking for
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