Read Online The Worst Class Trip Ever by Dave Barry - Free Book Online Page B

they told him to sit there until they got their box back. I stood there,
staring at the person, trying to decide what to do. My phone burped again.
    put it by trsh
    I looked around. There was a trash basket off to my right. I went over and set the parachute sack on the ground next to it. Then I stood still and waited. I had sweat dripping into my eyes. A
skateboarder went past me. The stroller lady was coming my way.
    My phone burped again.
    walk 2 seat DO NOT TRN AROND
    I figured that meant walk toward the bench. I started walking toward the bench. When I got about ten feet from it my phone burped.
    STOP
    I stopped and stood there staring at the back of the blond wig. All around me I could hear people talking, yelling, laughing; they had no idea what was happening. Sweat was pouring down my face,
stinging my eyes, but I didn’t dare move. I stood there waiting, but I didn’t know what I was waiting for.
    “Matt,” I whispered, to the back of the wig.
    Nothing.
    I tried again, louder.
    “Matt, is that you?”
    Nothing.
    I looked down at my phone. Nothing.
    I wondered where Suzana was. I really really wanted
somebody
to tell me
something
.
    My phone burped. I looked down, and when I saw the message I suddenly felt cold.
    u did not com alon
    Oh no.
    In front of me, the blond-wigged person was standing up. The person reached up and took off the wig, then took off the coat, then turned around.
    It wasn’t Matt.
    It wasn’t one of the weird guys, either.
    It was a homeless guy, his hair all straggly, with a gray beard and raggedy clothes.
    I said, “Who’re you?”
    He said, “Who’re
you
?”
    “Wyatt!” I turned around and saw Suzana running toward me, full speed. Behind her, a ways back, were Victor and Cameron.
    Suzana reached me, breathing hard. “Who’s he?” she said, pointing at the homeless guy.
    “Why’s everybody want to know who I am?” he said.
    “Where’d you get that wig?” said Suzana.
    “Why’s that your business?”
    “Because I’ll pay you five dollars to tell me.” She said this without hesitating for a second, like it was a line from a movie she knew by heart.
    The homeless guy said, “Okay, gimme the five.”
    Suzana said, “Tell me first.”
    He thought about that for a second, then said, “Okay. It was a big guy. Bald. He told me to put on the coat and wig and sit on this bench, don’t move, don’t turn around for a
half hour. Paid me twenty. Where’s my five?”
    “Did he have anybody with him?”
    “A boy. About his size.” He pointed at me.
    “Did the boy say anything?”
    “No.”
    “Did he look scared?”
    “How do I know? That’s enough questions.” He held out his hand.
    Suzana reached into her pocket and pulled out a five, which she handed to the homeless guy, who took it and walked away.
    Suzana looked at me and said, “So where are they?”
    “I dunno,” I said. “But they knew I wasn’t alone.” I held up my phone so she could see the last text.
    “Hey,” said Victor. “The sack. It’s gone.”
    We looked back toward the trash can near the statue. The parachute sack wasn’t where I’d set it down. I ran over and looked on the other side of the can. It wasn’t there,
either. I looked around. There were plenty of people around, but nobody had the sack that I could see.
    “Who took it?” I said. “Did anybody see?”
    They all looked at each other.
    “Weren’t you guys taking video?” I said.
    “Yeah,” said Cameron. “But I figured the guy on the bench was one of the weird guys, and the idea was to get video of them, right? So when you walked to the bench I was aiming
at you. I kind of forgot about the sack.”
    “Me too,” said Suzana. Victor nodded.
    “Oh, man,” I said.
    “Wait a minute,” said Victor. “From where I was standing, I think I might have the trash can on the video.”
    “Let’s look,” I said.
    We squeezed around Victor and made some shade so we could see his phone screen. He started the video, and we