Read Online Sink or Swim by Bob Balaban - Free Book Online Page A

old shoes?” Aunt Harriet puts her hands on her stout hips. “Now if someone stole my false teeth,
that
would be worth talking about.”
    â€œIt may seem unnecessary, Mrs. O’Connor,” Lucille explains. “But sometimes even the most mundane detail can provide a critical link in breaking a difficult case.”
    â€œWell, when you put it that way . . .” Uncle Marvin begins. “It happened yesterday morning. Seven twenty-five a.m., to be precise. I know that because I’d just finished watching the morning news with that Joe Jefferson guy who looks like his face is made out of wax. I’d cleaned out my closet and was planning to bring my entire collection of rare shoes over to my insurance company for an appraisal. I stuffed them into a garbage bag, changed out of my slippers, and put on my coat. The brown twill with the shiny leather buttons. Got it for my thirty-seventh birthday. . . . You know that coat, Harriet?”
    â€œHow could I forget, Marv, sweetie?” Aunt Harriet sighs. “I gave it to you.”
    â€œThat’s right! Ahh . . . ahh . . . ahh . . .
choo!!!
” Uncle Marvin holds out his hand. Aunt Harriet puts another Kleenex into it. “Thanks, hon.”
    â€œExcuse me, guys,” I interrupt. “Was there anything out of the ordinary about those shoes?”
    â€œThere certainly was, Charlie!” Uncle Marvin exclaims. “I had some extremely unusual specimens in there, including a pair of size eleven Gucci loafers that Donald Trump wore to his daughter’s wedding. They had some actual wedding cake stuck to the heel. They were real beauts. Every shoe has a story to tell if you listen carefully enough.”
    â€œWow. That’s really . . . um . . . interesting, Mr. O’Connor,” Sam says. “Anyway. Did you maybe leave anything inside any of them?”
    â€œYeah,” Lucille adds. “Like a significant letter . . . or maybe a deed to a building? Or a stock certificate?”
    â€œNope.” Uncle Marvin shakes his head.
    Lucille sighs. “Anything else either of you remembers about what happened? Think hard.”
    Uncle Marvin scrunches up his forehead and shuts his eyes. “I remember taking those shoes out of my closet like it was yesterday.”
    â€œIt
was
yesterday, Marv,” Aunt Harriet whispers.
    Uncle Marvin continues, undeterred. “I happen to know there was nothing inside any of those shoes because Harriet made me shake each one out to make sure I hadn’t dropped any loose change in any of them. She just loves loose change. She collects it. Don’t you, Harriet?”
    â€œI collect coins of all nations that begin with the letter
B
,” Aunt Harriet answers proudly. “I’d love to show you kids sometime.” I told you my aunt was eccentric. “The Bulgarian stotinka is one of my favorites. A hundred stotinki make up one lev. I’ll run in and bring you each a couple for a special treat. They’re a darling little coin.”
    â€œMaybe later, Aunt Harriet,” I say. “Isn’t there anything else you remember?”
    â€œNope. Nothing in that garbage bag except old shoes. I’d swear on a stack of Bibles,” Uncle Marvin says. “I would bet my life on it. I have been training my mind to remember the slightest details for years, using the Silva Mind Control Method. Even an idiot can tune out the static of everyday challenges and . . . and . . . wait a minute.”
    Uncle Marvin’s mouth droops open a little farther, which is pretty amazing and actually sort of disturbing when you think about it. “There
was
something else in that bag. Why didn’t I think of that before? I took out the garbage along with the shoes, only I was in a hurry because it looked like it was going to snow and I’m just getting over a bad cold, so I tucked