Emery said, “Show me the pants your aunt gave as a present.”
“They must be upstairs. I think my mother wore them last night.”
The boys ran up the steps, and Philip led Emery into his parents’ bedroom.
“There, the red ones.”
Emery picked up the pants and shook them in front of Philip. “See, your mother has satin pants! Just like the truck driver had satin pants.”
“Emery,” Philip shouted at his friend, “my mother wore them last night, so of course she sat in them! They went to a restaurant. You think she ate standing up?”
“Not sat in them. Your aunt had satin pants and lost them.”
“My aunt lost her pants? How could she lose her pants if she was sitting in them?” Philip glared a challenge at his friend.
“Oh boy, don’t ever call me a dope again. Look, these are satin pants,” Emery screeched, shaking the red slacks in his hand even harder than before. He tossed them back onto the bed and grabbed a handful of the jeans Philip had on. “These are not satin pants.”
Philip took a breath. He lowered himself slowly onto the bed. “Are these sat in pants now that I’m sitting on them?”
“No, no, no. What is wrong with you?” Emery grabbed the red slacks again. “These are satin. Feel them. That’s satin. It has nothing to do with sitting anyplace. This is satin. This . . .” He touched his own jeans. “. . . is dungaree or cotton or whatever. Satin is this smooth stuff. I told you. My parents have bed sheets like this. Satin sheets. You don’t think they sleep sitting up, do you? Don’t you listen?”
“When you don’t talk nonsense I listen, and you just talked nonsense. You said the truck guy sat in his pants. You said my aunt sat in her pants.”
“I didn’t say that they sat in their pants.”
“You did.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“No. Listen. You’re being even dumber than Leon could be.”
“Me! You . . .”
“Listen! Listen!”
Philip quieted and glowered at his friend.
“The man who drove the truck for Mr. Sorino was wearing satin . . .” Emery picked up the red slacks. “. . . black satin pants. Like the ones your aunt lost. Get it?”
“Are you trying to tell me the truck driver wore pants that looked like my aunt’s pants?”
“Ah, finally you get it! Yes, he must have stolen them from behind your house. He had black satin pants on. How many pairs of black satin pants you think there are in the neighborhood?”
“Why would he want to wear such stupid looking pants? I don’t think they’re even for men.”
“They must be. Your aunt gave them to your father. And who cares why he wore them? He had them on. I saw. And I saw your underwear, too.”
“He was wearing my Aunt Louise’s underwear?” Philip cried, flabbergasted.
“No, no, no.”
“So what do you mean you saw my underwear?” Philip spun around and tried to look behind him to see where his pants were torn.
“Stand still. Not the underwear you’re wearing. Your other underwear.”
“What other underwear?”
“The ones your aunt gave you, the ones with the red-haired girl on the butt.”
“You said he wasn’t wearing them.”
“Of course he wasn’t wearing them! How could I see his underwear if he was wearing pants? But I saw them.”
“Where’d you see them?”
“In the trash can at Mr. Sorino’s. They were still in the plastic.”
“What were you doing at Mr. Sorino’s?”
“I went over to tell him about the stolen television. I was going to ask him about giving the people back their old TV, but I never got a chance. I saw the truck guy in the backyard wearing your aunt’s pants.”
“Let’s go downstairs.”
Philip threw himself on the floor and leaned back against the sofa. Emery sat in a chair facing him.
“So, do you get it now?” asked Emery.
“Yes, yes, yes. I get it. You explained it so clearly.”
They sat quietly for a moment.
“What’ll we do?” asked Emery.
“You know, when we went to Mr. Sorino’s after Leon gave my stuff to him, we saw the white trash bag filled with my stuff in his garbage can. Remember? I think he just put everything back in the bag after I looked it over and threw it out.”
“Why would he do that? I thought he fixed broken stuff.”
“Maybe everything was too broken to fix.” Philip got to his feet. “Or maybe that’s why Pete said Mr. Sorino didn’t really give him very much stuff. Maybe Mr. Sorino throws everything away except the very good stuff that doesn’t need any fixing.”
“That’s not what he told us he did.”
“I know.”
Philip fell back onto the sofa.
Finally, Emery said, “What shall we do about the satin pants?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go sit in Mrs. Logan’s bushes and think this over.”
Chapter Twelve
Mrs. Logan lived on the corner of Philip and Emery’s block. Thick bushes grew near the back of her house, and the two boys had discovered a wide, empty space beneath them, which they used as a hideout. Mrs. Logan was quite old and rarely left her house, so no one bothered the boys when they tucked themselves into the cool shade of the bushes.
“Oh,” Emery moaned as he and Philip walked toward the corner. “Here comes Leon.”
Leon noticed them, and a big smile came over his face. He waved and ran toward them. “Guess what, guys.”
“Your mother’s sending you to camp tomorrow?” Emery guessed.
Leon gave his yuk yuk laugh. “Nope.” He had changed direction so he could walk with the boys. They had reached the corner and stopped. Leon looked around.
“We goin’ into the bushy clubhouse?”
“Don’t call it a bushy clubhouse, Leon,” said Philip. “It sounds stupid.”
Philip and Emery checked for Mrs. Logan or for anyone else who might be looking. With the coast clear, they scurried along the side of the house and crawled under the bushes.
“I like it in here,” said Leon, stretching out and relaxing.
“We came here to think, Leon,” said Emery. “So shhhh!”
Leon pressed his lips together and waggled them. “Know what I’m thinking about?” he asked from between his tight lips.
“What?” Emery asked impatiently.
Leon popped into a sitting position, excitement on his face, and spoke in his regular voice. “I’m thinking about my whole new set of art pencils and crayons and stuff. A surprise from my mother ’cause I saved her plate. You know I draw good, right?”
The boys knew. Leon had once saved the day when Philip and Emery promised to contribute a booth at Mrs. Moriarty’s women’s club fair and ended up depending on Leon’s talent to see them through.
“Good for you, Leon,” said Philip. “Oh, listen! Is that your mother calling you?”
“Yeah,” Emery agreed. “Maybe she’s got another present for you.”
“Yuk yuk. I don’t think so. A new TV and the art set’s a lot.”
“You got a new TV?” asked Emery.
“Yep, a big one. Not just for me. For everybody. But I like my new art set. I knew I was getting it before I even got it.”
Emery frowned. “Your mother told you? You said it was a surprise.”
“It was a surprise, but I knew anyway. Yuk yuk.”
“Stop laughing,” said Philip. “You sound goofy.”
“If it was a surprise,” Emery went on, “how’d you know you were getting it?”
“When I went home, I saw my old art kit in the trash. It was all used up. All the pencils were sharpened down little and the crayons were all nubby.”
Philip rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Nubby.”
“I figured my mother wouldn’t throw away my old set unless she bought me a new set. That’s how I knew. P
retty smart, eh? Yuk yuk.”
Philip glared at Leon.
“Oh, sorry.”
Philip turned to Emery and tried to ignore Leon. “So, who should we tell about the pants?”
“I don’t know.” Emery tipped his head toward Leon. “It’s hard to think.”
Leon kept going. “We’re all going to Hershey Park tomorrow. Overnight, even. They have rides and water slides and chocolate there, you know.”
“Another reward for saving the plate?” asked Emery. “You oughta hide all your mother’s important stuff and then find it again. She’d buy you the whole store and take you everywhere.”
“Yuk . . . oh, sorry.” Leon glanced at Philip. “No, we were already going before. She’ll be in a better mood now, though. Hey, you guys still finding things for Mr. Sorino? Tell him I’ll be away for two days, but I’ll help him when I come back.”
“Yeah, we’ll do that,” said Emery.
Philip sat lost in thought. He looked over at Leon. He thought some more. He looked at Emery, who noticed his glance.
“What?” asked Emery. “What?”
Philip scrambled to his knees. “Come with me, Emery. I got an idea.”
“About the pants?”
“Yeah.”
“What pants?” asked Leon.
The boys crawled through the bushes into the sunlight.
“The dog pants,” Emery called over this shoulder to Leon.
“The dog pants?” Leon said, befuddled.
“Sure,” explained Emery. “The dog pants when he gets tired. His tongue hangs out, and he pants.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Leon, nodding agreement. “I knew that. You looking for a dog?”
“Leon, we gotta go,” said Philip. “You better go home and pack for Hershey Park.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good idea. I’ll see you guys when I get back.”
Leon turned and went skipping down the street singing, “I’m going to Her-shey Par-ark. I’m going to Her-shey Par-ark.”
“What a doof,” muttered Emery. He turned to Philip. “You do that just to get rid of him?”
“Come on back under the bushes. I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Philip and Emery stood across from Mr. Sorino’s house. They saw Gordon dozing on the front porch. The truck sat parked in the driveway.
Emery turned to Philip. “You sure we should do this?”
“You think up something if you don’t like my idea.”
“I can’t think of anything, but how are we going to get anybody to believe us?”
Philip had told Emery his idea as they sat in Mrs. Logan’s bushes. Then, on their way to Mr. Sorino’s house, they detoured so they could pass Leon’s house.
“We’ll tell somebody,” said Philip. “A policeman. It’s gotta be a policeman.”
“They might not believe two kids. Anyway, Leon’s TV isn’t out in the trash.”
“It’s outside the house, isn’t it? We just saw it. They’re not going to put it out on the sidewalk so many days before the trashmen come, are they?”
“I don’t know. I guess not.”
Philip glanced toward Mr. Sorino’s porch. “You remember everything I told you?”
“I guess so.”
“Can you remember three numbers?”
“Sure.”
“Then remember seven—four—two.”
“Seven—four—two. Okay. What’s that?”
“I’ll tell you later. Look there he is. Yah! He is wearing Aunt Louise’s pants! The guy must be a weirdo.”
The boys watched the truck driver and Mr. Sorino chat a moment before the truck driver got into his truck, backed it onto the street, and drove away.
Emery turned to Philip. “You sure about this?”
Philip shook his head. “No.”
“Oh, great.”
“Let’s go.”
The boys crossed the street.
“Be cheerful,” Philip whispered. “Don’t act suspicious.”
As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Mr. Sorino saw them and waved. “Hi, boys. Got any news for me?”
“Some,” said Philip. “It’s not trash day yet, but there’s an old TV outside.” He gave Mr. Sorino Leon’s address. “That’s Leon’s house—you remember Leon, right?”
“Of course. Gordon’s good friend.”
“Yeah, him. His family just got a brand new TV. Gigantic. They put their old one outside. I think it still works. You won’t even have to fix it.”
“Oh, really. The new one’s gigantic, eh?”
“Gigantic,” both boys chimed in.
“Oh,” said Philip as if he’d forgotten something. “And Leon said he can’t help you for a couple days. Tomorrow his whole family’s going away overnight to Hershey Park.”
Mr. Sorino nodded slowly. “Overnight, eh? I see.”
Philip tapped Emery on the arm and said, “We gotta go. We’ll keep an eye out for stuff for you.”
“Oh, here,” said Mr. Sorino. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some cash. “Here’s a dollar for each of you. You keep bringing me news like today’s. It really helps.”
Philip and Emery pocketed the money and walked away.
“I’m going to miss getting this money,” said Emery. “Now what?”
“Now, we gotta report my aunt’s pants.”
“You think the police are going to care about your aunt’s pants? Aunt’s pants. It sounds stupid just saying it.”
“When we tell them the other stuff, they will. I hope.”
“So where’s a policeman?”
Philip looked around. “I don’t know.”
“We better not wait until one comes by. It could be too late then. Maybe we better go to headquarters.”
“Headquarters? Where’s headquarters?”
“You know where. Two blocks from the big mall.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s pretty far.”
Emery shrugged. “We walked to the mall before.”
“I guess. Okay. Forward march.”
Twenty minutes later, the two nervous boys entered the police building. Uniformed officers walked around behind a low railing. Benches lined the wall outside of the railing. An officer gazing at a computer screen sat at a desk just inside the front door. He looked their way and said, “Yes?”
The boys took tiny, shoulder-to-shoulder steps toward the desk.
Emery pointed at Philip. “He wants to talk to you.”
Philip gave Emery a quick, uneasy glance.
“And what would he like to talk about?”
“His aunt’s pants,” said Emery.
The officer frowned. “His aunt’s pants?”
“The truck driver has them,” Philip blurted.
The officer pushed the computer keyboard back.
“The truck driver has your aunt’s pants? Your aunt’s wearing something, I hope.”
Philip’s face turned red as he tried his best to explain. “It’s not just my aunt’s pants. It’s about Leon’s television. His new television.”
The officer turned to a woman in uniform walking by. “Sandy. Sandy.” The officer wiggled his fingers to beckon her. “These young fellows want to speak with someone about his . . .” The officer pointed at Philip. “. . . aunt’s pants and his . . .” The officer pointed at Emery. “. . . television.”
“Not my television,” said Emery, waving his hands. “My cousin Leon’s television.”
“His cousin Leon’s television. Would you, please?”
Officer Sandy chuckled and said, “Come with me boys. Let’s see what you have to say.”
Philip and Emery followed the officer through a swinging gate and down a hallway into a small office, where they saw a large table and six chairs.
“Sit,” Officer Sandy invited.
The boys sat and folded their hands atop the table as if they were in school.
“Go on,” Officer Sandy urged, smiling. “Start talking.”
Chapter Fourteen
&n
bsp; Philip and Emery nestled beneath Mrs. Logan’s bushes next morning.
“Could you sleep good last night?” asked Emery.
“No, and I’ll sleep even worse tonight.”
“I wish we could sneak out of the house and watch.”
“Yeah, me, too. Imagine one of our mothers finding out we were missing in the middle of the night, though. She’d call the police. Sirens would be clanging. It would be a mess. No way anything happens if that happens.”
“I guess. You think the police lady believed us?”
“Us? I did all the talking.”
“So. I went with you, didn’t I?”
Philip showed what he thought of Emery’s help with a loud, “Pffft.”
“What if Leon’s family doesn’t go away?” asked Emery.
“Doesn’t go! They better go. He said they’d go.”
The boys looked at one another.
“Let’s check,” said Philip.
They scrambled out from under the bushes and rushed the three blocks to Leon’s house. When they reached the house, they stood down the block on the other side of the street behind a tree.
“Uh oh,” said Emery. “The car’s still there.”
“It’s early. Maybe they didn’t leave yet.”
“Maybe.” They stood quietly a moment before Emery had a thought. “Maybe Leon got sick. Maybe he jumped off his bed again and broke his head open.”
“He’s not that dumb.”
Emery gave him a doubting look.
“At least I don’t think he’s that dumb.”
“Why don’t we go ask him if he’s still going? We can tell him we came to say good-bye. Ohh! Look!”
Leon’s family—Leon, his father, and his mother—filed out of the house. Leon did some strange kind of dance, but stopped when his father shouted at him—a shout so loud the two boys could hear it.
“He’s goofy all the time,” mumbled Philip.
The two boys watched them get into the car. They heard another roaring shout from inside the car, but couldn’t figure out who did it or why.
“Leon drives everybody nuts,” said Emery.
The car drove away from them and turned the corner. The boys stepped out from behind the tree.
“Well,” said Philip. “They’re gone. Now, we just have to wait.”
Philip and the Sneaky Trashmen (9781619502185) Page 5
