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

the garbage inside the bag of shoes and forgot all about it. That robber didn’t just make off with my rare used shoe collection, he got a jumbo portion of last night’s leftovers as well.” Uncle Marvin sneezes several times loudly.
    â€œSo much for that stack of Bibles. Let’s put you to bed, honey. You’re not ready for company.”
    â€œDo you remember what was in those leftovers?” I ask.
    â€œI sure do,” my uncle replies, sniffling loudly. “Succotash, half of a baked potato, and a perfectly good noodle pudding. I dropped it on the floor and your aunt made me throw it away.”
    â€œI certainly did,” Aunt Harriet says. “Who in their right mind would eat a noodle pudding after it fell on the floor?”
    â€œMe,” Uncle Marvin says simply.
    â€œThanks a lot, Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor,” Sam says. “That was really helpful.” We turn to leave.
    â€œThere’s one more thing,” Uncle Marvin adds. We freeze in our tracks. “Whoever took those things smelled kind of funny.”
    â€œWhat did he smell like, Uncle Marvin?” I ask. “It’s very important.”
    â€œHe smelled . . . sort of . . . sort of like . . . he smelled like old seaweed and rotting fish.”
    â€œWe’d better be on our way now, Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor,” Lucille says abruptly. She gives me an anxious look.
    â€œCome back soon, Charlie,” Aunt Harriet says. “Don’t be a stranger!” She grabs me and hugs me a little too tightly.
    Lucille and Sam take my arms and practically drag me off the porch. We race down the road. We are halfway to my house by the time Sam finally speaks. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t have an identical twin in an alternate reality, Charlie? It would explain everything.”
    â€œAt this point I’m not absolutely sure of anything.” I sniff my stumpy little arm. Old seaweed and rotting fish all right. The description fits me like a glove.
    But it wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?????
    â€œOkay. What do we know?” Lucille says. “Charlie, you start.”
    â€œThree crimes, one motive: hunger.”
    â€œI’ll buy it,” Sam agrees.
    â€œDo we all go with the one-perp theory?” Lucille asks.
    â€œI sure do,” Sam answers. “How about a description?”
    â€œAbout my height. Claws instead of hands. Smells like me.” I stare down at my big webbed feet. “Looks like me. But not me.”
    â€œIt would be so easy if it were, Charlie,” Lucille adds.
    â€œBut it’s not,” Sam says firmly. “The same uh . . . creature . . . cannot occupy two different spaces at the same time.”
    I am so busy trying on various crime scenarios I don’t open my big jaws to speak until we reach the corner of Lonesome Lane and Cedar Street and I am almost home. As the last ray of sunlight disappears behind a row of distant beech trees I am the first to break the silence. “There’s probably an obvious answer just staring us in the face. We are so going to kick ourselves when we finally figure out who this guy is.” I stomp my flippers on the icy sidewalk to get my circulation going.
    â€œYeah,” Lucille says quietly. “I sure hope so.”
    Sam blows on his fingers to warm them up. “I have a piano recital this weekend and I promised my mom I’d practice today. I better get going.”
    â€œOops, I almost forgot. I’m taking my ferrets to the vet for their shots,” Lucille says. “I’ve got to run.”
    â€œFine,” I say, “but don’t forget: we have an emergency meeting of the Junior Scientists of America tonight. My house. Six o’clock sharp.”
    My friends nod their agreement, and then they take off. And I am alone.
    I don’t think we’re ever going to solve this