Read Online The Dark and Deadly Pool by Joan Lowery Nixon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
Ads: Link
yelled. “Don’t you dare!”
My shout startled Pauly. Instead of stepping back and behaving himself, without looking or caring, he flung his round, tight little cannonball body smack into the pool.
And smack on top of Mr. Kamara, who sank straight to the bottom.
I felt as though I were in a slow-motion movie. I ran to the edge of the pool, tugging off my shoes and flinging them aside, then dived. It seemed to take forever, because while I was doing this my eyes were on Mr. Kamara. He didn’t move. Obviously Pauly had knocked him out.
My momentum carried me across the pool in a matter of seconds. I grabbed Mr. Kamara’s chin with both hands and pushed hard against the bottom of the pool. We rose to the top and I flipped on my side. One of my arms was under his chin. I used the other in a side stroke to help propel us to shallow water.
Both of the women who had been Pauly’s targets were already in the water. They helped me pull Mr. Kamarafrom the pool. Mr. Kamara helped too. By this time he was choking and sputtering and conscious again.
He sat on the edge of the pool and rubbed his head.
“I’ll call a doctor,” I said.
“No. A doctor not necessary,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to jump on you,” Pauly said, his voice quivering. He reminded me of the huge-eyed lemurs in the night-animal section of the zoo.
“That is what happened?” Mr. Kamara asked. He stared at Pauly and mumbled something in his native tongue. I didn’t ask for a translation. His tone of voice told me all I needed to know.
Pauly’s lower lip curled out. “It’s her fault,” he said, pointing at me. “She yelled at me and scared me. That’s why I didn’t see you.”
One of the women said, “What a rude little boy. I heard her tell you earlier not to splash water on people. That’s what you were planning to do to us, wasn’t it?”
The other woman pointed at me and said to Mr. Kamara, “She dived right in and pulled you out.”
“Thank you,” he said to me.
“Thank them too,” I answered, smiling at the women. “They helped me.”
Mr. Kamara struggled to his feet and staggered over to the chair on which his robe was neatly folded and hung. He pulled on his robe and stepped into his thongs.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked him.
“Yes. All right.”
I turned to Pauly, brushing back the dripping hair from my eyes. “As for you—I am not going to allow you back in the pool for the rest of the day.”
“Not all his fault,” Mr. Kamara said. He put a hand on Pauly’s shoulder. “Too much to think about. I not pay attention.”
“Is something wrong, Mr. Kamara? Can I do anything to help?”
For a long moment he looked at me, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a light bulb had appeared over his head, like in the old cartoon shows. He gave a little bow and grinned, but oddly the grin seemed to be more for himself than for me. “Ah, yes. You can help.”
He tugged his robe more tightly around himself, turned sharply, and wobbled from the pool area to the door to the hotel.
I wished I could take back my words. I wished that I could call out, “Wait, Mr. Kamara! I didn’t mean it!” For just an instant, before he turned away, I had glimpsed an almost evil expression of triumph on his face. I didn’t know what plan Mr. Kamara had in mind, but I was sure I was going to regret being any part of it.
Mrs. Bandini apologized over and over again for Pauly’s actions. When he complained that I had ordered him out of the pool for the rest of the day, she said I was perfectly right, and by pure coincidence it was time they were getting home anyway. Pauly made a face at me as they left.
I changed to an extra pair of pink shorts and a club T-shirt, which fortunately I kept in my locker, wrote out a detailed report in the day’s log, and called Lamar to tell him what had happened.
“I’m a little worried about Mr. Kamara,” I said.
“I’ll check on
My shout startled Pauly. Instead of stepping back and behaving himself, without looking or caring, he flung his round, tight little cannonball body smack into the pool.
And smack on top of Mr. Kamara, who sank straight to the bottom.
I felt as though I were in a slow-motion movie. I ran to the edge of the pool, tugging off my shoes and flinging them aside, then dived. It seemed to take forever, because while I was doing this my eyes were on Mr. Kamara. He didn’t move. Obviously Pauly had knocked him out.
My momentum carried me across the pool in a matter of seconds. I grabbed Mr. Kamara’s chin with both hands and pushed hard against the bottom of the pool. We rose to the top and I flipped on my side. One of my arms was under his chin. I used the other in a side stroke to help propel us to shallow water.
Both of the women who had been Pauly’s targets were already in the water. They helped me pull Mr. Kamarafrom the pool. Mr. Kamara helped too. By this time he was choking and sputtering and conscious again.
He sat on the edge of the pool and rubbed his head.
“I’ll call a doctor,” I said.
“No. A doctor not necessary,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to jump on you,” Pauly said, his voice quivering. He reminded me of the huge-eyed lemurs in the night-animal section of the zoo.
“That is what happened?” Mr. Kamara asked. He stared at Pauly and mumbled something in his native tongue. I didn’t ask for a translation. His tone of voice told me all I needed to know.
Pauly’s lower lip curled out. “It’s her fault,” he said, pointing at me. “She yelled at me and scared me. That’s why I didn’t see you.”
One of the women said, “What a rude little boy. I heard her tell you earlier not to splash water on people. That’s what you were planning to do to us, wasn’t it?”
The other woman pointed at me and said to Mr. Kamara, “She dived right in and pulled you out.”
“Thank you,” he said to me.
“Thank them too,” I answered, smiling at the women. “They helped me.”
Mr. Kamara struggled to his feet and staggered over to the chair on which his robe was neatly folded and hung. He pulled on his robe and stepped into his thongs.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked him.
“Yes. All right.”
I turned to Pauly, brushing back the dripping hair from my eyes. “As for you—I am not going to allow you back in the pool for the rest of the day.”
“Not all his fault,” Mr. Kamara said. He put a hand on Pauly’s shoulder. “Too much to think about. I not pay attention.”
“Is something wrong, Mr. Kamara? Can I do anything to help?”
For a long moment he looked at me, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a light bulb had appeared over his head, like in the old cartoon shows. He gave a little bow and grinned, but oddly the grin seemed to be more for himself than for me. “Ah, yes. You can help.”
He tugged his robe more tightly around himself, turned sharply, and wobbled from the pool area to the door to the hotel.
I wished I could take back my words. I wished that I could call out, “Wait, Mr. Kamara! I didn’t mean it!” For just an instant, before he turned away, I had glimpsed an almost evil expression of triumph on his face. I didn’t know what plan Mr. Kamara had in mind, but I was sure I was going to regret being any part of it.
Mrs. Bandini apologized over and over again for Pauly’s actions. When he complained that I had ordered him out of the pool for the rest of the day, she said I was perfectly right, and by pure coincidence it was time they were getting home anyway. Pauly made a face at me as they left.
I changed to an extra pair of pink shorts and a club T-shirt, which fortunately I kept in my locker, wrote out a detailed report in the day’s log, and called Lamar to tell him what had happened.
“I’m a little worried about Mr. Kamara,” I said.
“I’ll check on
Similar Books
