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Authors: Ellen Raskin
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icy, spicy” to the “__C” list, and then he was stuck.
“Tina, you’ve got to help me. I’ve only got four words, so far; and Mr. Kunkel is coming over on Saturday.”
“Don’t worry,” Tina said. “I’ve already solved the glub-blubs.”
“Solved it?”
“That’s right. You see, I’ve been working according to rule 3: The message must make sense. Well, the only thing that makes sense is that Noel is dead. In fact, he knew he was dying when he said:
See you at my funeral. I’ ve got pneu monia .”
Tony shook his head. “Too many syllables.”
“Well, if I were drowning I wouldn’t pay any attention to syllables,” Tina replied.
“Maybe you wouldn’t, but you don’t spell your name backward.”
“Very c-c-clever,” Augie Kunkel said, but Tina could tell from his stutter that he was afraid of hurting her feelings.
“Too many syllables, right, Mr. Kunkel?” Tony said.
“But it does make sense,” Tina insisted.
“Not q-q-quite. You see, if Noel Carillon had pneumonia, the doctors would have kept him in the hospital after patching his elbow.”
“Greasy, jui cy , i cy , spi cy ,” Tony said and showed his chart to Augie Kunkel.
“Mercy.”
“What’s wrong?” Tony asked.
“N-n-nothing at all. I was just giving you more words for list 1—2: mer cy , sau cy , ra cy , la cy .”
A week passed before Tony added his next word: “Sissy.”
Augie Kunkel offered “ Tse-tse fly.” 28
By this time the twins were barely speaking to each other, so Tony worked on the “C” list himself. “ Sea m , seat, cease,” and one of his Spanish-speaking friends gave him the word for yes—“ Si .”
“Excellent,” Augie Kunkel remarked. “ Seize, siege, Si kh.”
“Wow!” Tony repeated the word “Sikh” three times. There was no doubt about it; Mr. Kunkel was surely the smartest man who ever lived, and Tony wanted to impress him. Not until he was well into the “C__” list ( ce dar, see saw, se nior, sea shore, sea side) did Tony realize that he was faced with a dilemma.
“What if I come up with the right answer to the glub-blubs?” Tony thought, and shuddered.
The fonder he became of Augie Kunkel, the less he wanted to find Noel Carillon.
Tina’s Plan 29
Tina believed in action, not list-making. She didn’t bother telling the syllable-counters about her new solution:
See person al ad, Io wa (or I daho) new spaper.
Every step was planned. Tina realized it would do no good looking up a personal ad placed more than twenty years ago; but someone who knew Noel might still be reading the same paper. She would place her own ads and pay for them with baby-sitting money.
Tina spent an afternoon in the library copying down names, addresses, and advertising rates of newspapers beginning with “Iowa” and “Idaho.” Then she remembered there was something else she wanted to look up.
“Where are your medical books, please?”
The librarian recommended a biography of the doctors Mayo. It didn’t contain the information Tina wanted, but she became so engrossed in the book that she had to be reminded of the late hour.
“Young lady, where have you been?” It was Mr. Banks again. “Mrs. Carillon has been beside herself with worry. And the fish is getting cold.”
“Pork chops,” said Tony.
Tina washed her hands quickly and sat down to dinner. Mr. Banks was explaining why he was moving to New York City.
“This family takes up so much of my time these days that all I do is travel back and forth. By the way, Mrs. Carillon, what are your plans for the summer?”
Tony choked on a piece of meat, and Mrs. Carillon whacked him on the back.
“That’s what comes of gulping down food, young man,” Mr. Banks said after the fuss was over. “I was asking about your summer plans. Not some wild-goose chase, I hope, or some expensive seaside resort?”
“I haven’t given it much thought,” Mrs. Carillon replied. She couldn’t bring herself to think about leaving
“Tina, you’ve got to help me. I’ve only got four words, so far; and Mr. Kunkel is coming over on Saturday.”
“Don’t worry,” Tina said. “I’ve already solved the glub-blubs.”
“Solved it?”
“That’s right. You see, I’ve been working according to rule 3: The message must make sense. Well, the only thing that makes sense is that Noel is dead. In fact, he knew he was dying when he said:
See you at my funeral. I’ ve got pneu monia .”
Tony shook his head. “Too many syllables.”
“Well, if I were drowning I wouldn’t pay any attention to syllables,” Tina replied.
“Maybe you wouldn’t, but you don’t spell your name backward.”
“Very c-c-clever,” Augie Kunkel said, but Tina could tell from his stutter that he was afraid of hurting her feelings.
“Too many syllables, right, Mr. Kunkel?” Tony said.
“But it does make sense,” Tina insisted.
“Not q-q-quite. You see, if Noel Carillon had pneumonia, the doctors would have kept him in the hospital after patching his elbow.”
“Greasy, jui cy , i cy , spi cy ,” Tony said and showed his chart to Augie Kunkel.
“Mercy.”
“What’s wrong?” Tony asked.
“N-n-nothing at all. I was just giving you more words for list 1—2: mer cy , sau cy , ra cy , la cy .”
A week passed before Tony added his next word: “Sissy.”
Augie Kunkel offered “ Tse-tse fly.” 28
By this time the twins were barely speaking to each other, so Tony worked on the “C” list himself. “ Sea m , seat, cease,” and one of his Spanish-speaking friends gave him the word for yes—“ Si .”
“Excellent,” Augie Kunkel remarked. “ Seize, siege, Si kh.”
“Wow!” Tony repeated the word “Sikh” three times. There was no doubt about it; Mr. Kunkel was surely the smartest man who ever lived, and Tony wanted to impress him. Not until he was well into the “C__” list ( ce dar, see saw, se nior, sea shore, sea side) did Tony realize that he was faced with a dilemma.
“What if I come up with the right answer to the glub-blubs?” Tony thought, and shuddered.
The fonder he became of Augie Kunkel, the less he wanted to find Noel Carillon.
Tina’s Plan 29
Tina believed in action, not list-making. She didn’t bother telling the syllable-counters about her new solution:
See person al ad, Io wa (or I daho) new spaper.
Every step was planned. Tina realized it would do no good looking up a personal ad placed more than twenty years ago; but someone who knew Noel might still be reading the same paper. She would place her own ads and pay for them with baby-sitting money.
Tina spent an afternoon in the library copying down names, addresses, and advertising rates of newspapers beginning with “Iowa” and “Idaho.” Then she remembered there was something else she wanted to look up.
“Where are your medical books, please?”
The librarian recommended a biography of the doctors Mayo. It didn’t contain the information Tina wanted, but she became so engrossed in the book that she had to be reminded of the late hour.
“Young lady, where have you been?” It was Mr. Banks again. “Mrs. Carillon has been beside herself with worry. And the fish is getting cold.”
“Pork chops,” said Tony.
Tina washed her hands quickly and sat down to dinner. Mr. Banks was explaining why he was moving to New York City.
“This family takes up so much of my time these days that all I do is travel back and forth. By the way, Mrs. Carillon, what are your plans for the summer?”
Tony choked on a piece of meat, and Mrs. Carillon whacked him on the back.
“That’s what comes of gulping down food, young man,” Mr. Banks said after the fuss was over. “I was asking about your summer plans. Not some wild-goose chase, I hope, or some expensive seaside resort?”
“I haven’t given it much thought,” Mrs. Carillon replied. She couldn’t bring herself to think about leaving
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