Read Online The Dragon in the Ghetto Caper by E.L. Konigsburg - Free Book Online

arouse Edie’s suspicions. He looked back at Sister Henderson, raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes in the direction of the Plymouth. Sister nodded. Andy put his finger over his mouth, indicating to her to say nothing.
    Sister Henderson could not read sign language. At least not normal, nonghetto sign language. Because he had no sooner signaled her to be quiet than she blurtedout, “Y’know, Andrew, Ah done tole Brother Banks a lot ‘bout you. He be anxious t’ meet you. Howdja like t’ carry the donations on to his place here this afternoon? While you doin’ that, Miz Yakots an’ me c’n run down to the Minute Market an’ pick me up some aspurn. Ah feels a mos’ appropriate long headache comin’ on.”
    Edie said, “I’ll take the donations in to Brother Banks.”
    Sister Henderson looked astonished, “Then who gonna drive me fo’ mah aspurn?”
    â€˜That’s right,” Edie said. Then turning to Andy she added, “I’ll buy the rice for the dragon while Sister is buying her aspirin.”
    Andy got out at the end of the drive leading to Brother Banks’s house. He walked down the dusty, unpaved path and wondered how, for God’s sake, was a person expected to stay cool in all this heat? And how was a guy expected to look cool carrying all these dumbsized, awkward paper bags? Before he had reached the end of the drive, Sister Henderson poked her head out of the window and yelled, “Ah thinks Ah’ll take a bus ride to home from the Minute Market. Bes’t’ tell Brother t’ hoi’ up mah part.”
    Andy continued walking down the drive. “Got that, Andrew?” she yelled.
    Andy turned and gave Sister a haughty look. “No one has to repeat things to me. I am trained. The only thing I didn’t hear is
please.”
    â€˜Tell Brother I say to
please
hoi’ mah part ‘til nex’ week.”
    â€œIt’s me you should be saying please to, for God’s sake.”
    â€œYou min’ yo’ manners, son. Don’ you go takin’ the name of the Lawd in vain.”
    â€œYou telling me to mind my manners is like the pot calling the kettle black…” Andy said, “…but of course that’s perfectly all right. Black is beautiful.”
    â€œNow, jes’ you tell him to hoi’ mine, y’hear?” Sister Henderson then turned to Edie and said, “Once he in the house, he be safe. Once he outta the house an’ emptyhanded, I be safe. Now, Miz Yakots, let us move us to the Jacksons’ Minute Market.”
    Andy walked across the porch and knocked on the screen door. That made the second screen door within two weeks that he had looked through. He couldn’t see much; there wasn’t much to see. A man yelled, “C’min,” and Andy did.
    â€œAre you Brother Banks?” he asked.
    â€œBeen that for fifty-four year jes’ las’ Monday gone,” the man answered.
    â€œI’ve got Sister Henderson’s donations,” Andy said.
    â€œWhassa matta with Sista? Why she don’ bring her own?” A different man asked that. He was sitting behind an old kitchen table that had an adding machine on it.
    Andy winked. The two men stared at him. He winked again and smiled. They still did nothing to show they understood. Oh, for God’s sake, if they couldn’t understand a cool signal like that, he’d just have to tell them. “The gray Plymouth,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.
    The man behind the adding machine said, “Speak out,plain, boy. This may be a checkup house, but don’ take it personally. Nobody checkin’ up on you. You c’n tell us straight out.”
    â€œThe men in the gray Plymouth are trying to hold Sister up. She led them to the Minute Market where they won’t cause trouble. Then Mrs. Yakots will come back to pick me up.”
    The man behind the adding