by Matt Stanton
I don’t know anyone else whose grandpa has been kidnapped. Apparently it’s quite rare. So Mom and Dad can discount me all they like, but if there’s ever been an opportunity to become the hero of Redhill, this is it, and I’m going to make the most of it by rescuing Grandpa myself.
At lunchtime I gather my task force in the library.
“What is a task force?” Hugo asks as he ushers Kevin, Layla, and Ryan into the study room.
“It’s like the Avengers,” I explain. “Or the Justice League.”
“So you’re Batman and I’m Superman?” He’s a sweet kid.
“Hugo, I think if I’m Batman, then you’re Alfred,” I reply while laying out pieces of paper on the library table. “Couldn’t do it without you though!”
Everyone sits down around the table. Nothing ever happens in Redhill, so we’re all pretty excited about rescuing a grandpa.
“Can I come in?” I look up. Abby Purcell is standing in the doorway. Nothing’s ever easy, is it? I’m figuring out how best to explain that rescue operations are not math tests and that maybe Abby would be better suited to the chess club meeting on the other side of the library when Hugo beats me to it.
Ugh. Hugo!
“What are all these names on the table?” Abby asks, pointing at the sheets of paper I’ve laid out. Each one has a different name printed on it.
“These are the suspects in Grandpa’s kidnapping,” I say.
She does her stupid one-eyebrow thing and holds up a piece of paper. On it I’ve written: MISS SWEET.
“It’s important not to rule out anyone this early in an investigation.”
“So everyone’s guilty until proven innocent?” Abby asks.
“That’s what they say,” I reply.
“It couldn’t possibly be Miss Sweet,” Ryan says. “She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”
“She put a star sticker on my homework this morning,” Layla says. “She was in such a good mood.”
“We had homework?” I ask.
“What about this guy?” Kevin picks up another piece of paper. “Who’s Rupert?”
Abby laughs. “You think the stage manager from the talent quest took your grandpa?”
“You never know!”
She lifts up a different paper. “Who’s Dr. Duncanbray?”
“He works at the nursing home. There’s something very suspicious about that doctor,” I say. He’s currently my prime suspect, just because he was so close to where the crime occurred.
“And he has a lot of teeth,” Hugo adds. “Like more teeth than a normal person.”
“Who’s Breakfast-Hot-Dog Guy?” Ryan asks.
“One of the journalists,” I say.
“I think it was him,” Hugo says. “I mean, who needs a hot dog for breakfast?”
“Duck certainly didn’t trust him and he has an instinct for that sort of thing. He could have kidnapped Grandpa just so he had a good story to write about in his newspaper,” I say.
Layla nods. “That makes sense.”
“He does have a motive,” says Kevin.
“Good to know we’re all in agreement, then.” I pick up all the pieces of paper as the bell rings for the end of lunch. “Hugo and I will take this information to the police station after school.”
Abby shakes her head.
I’ve never been inside Redhill Police Station before. Abby made some comment at school about how I should get to know it because I’ll probably spend a lot of time there one day. She’s so dumb. I don’t want to be a policeman.
Hugo and I walk up to the front desk. There is a cop with very big muscles sitting behind a computer. He’s sucking on some sort of purple drink through a straw, and I think the drink is going straight into his arms and inflating them. He smiles when he sees us.
“What can I do for you two champs?”
He must realize that we’re going to help him solve the case and he’ll probably get the rest of the afternoon off.
“We’re here to see Sergeant Purcell,” I say.
Standard response. Perhaps he doesn’t realize how important we are. That’s okay, I can tell him.
“In this case, I think she’ll want you to interrupt her,” I suggest.
“In this case, I think, um . . . no.” He grins and sucks on his straw.
“But we have important suspects she needs to investigate,” Hugo tries.
“You should leave those suspects with me, then,” he says, pointing to a tray full of papers on his desk and going back to looking at his computer.
He’s still grinning.
“Seriously,” I say. “I’m sure you’re very brave, Mr. Policeman, but there’s bravery and then there’s insanity. No one gets medals for insanity.”
He seems to be finding us quite amusing. Not really the response I’m going for.
“I’ll take my chances, thanks, boys.”
Okay. I’ve had about enough of this.
“But we have suspects! Suspects for the Walter Walburt kidnapping! What sort of operation are you running here?”
“Walter Walburt? He’s that old guy, right?”
“Excuse me!” Hugo exclaims. “That ‘old guy’ is his grandpa!”
Mr. Policeman looks at me. “You’re Walter Walburt’s grandson?”
Finally! We’re getting somewhere. “As I was saying, we think we have a few leads . . .”
“Do you know where your parents are right now, kid?” He’s still not listening to me. I can’t believe this guy gets paid with my tax dollars.
“Don’t tell us they’ve been kidnapped too!” Hugo gasps.
Mr. Policeman laughs and stands up. “No, no. But they are here.”
Hugo grabs my shoulders. “Max! They’ve arrested your parents!”
The police officer leaves his purple drink on the desk and, chuckling to himself, begins to walk down the corridor. “Come with me, boys.”
We follow him down a hallway, through a room with lots of desks, past a few jail cells with some funny-looking dudes inside, and up to a door that has Sergeant Purcell’s name on it. Mr. Policeman knocks and then opens the door.
“Mr. and Mrs. Walburt, your son is here,” he says.
So Sergeant Purcell is in a meeting. With my mom and dad.
“What are you boys doing here? You were supposed to go straight home after school,” Mom says.
“We have some suspects in Grandpa’s kidnapping,” I say, and slap my handful of papers down onto Sergeant Purcell’s desk.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my parents silently apologizing for my initiative. Thanks, guys. I thought we were a team.
“His name is Breakfast-Hot-Dog Guy,” I say.
“Okay, thanks, boys,” Dad says, rising from his chair and putting one hand on each of our shoulders. “Time for you to head home.”
“I think you have your talent quest meeting tonight, right?” Mom asks. “You don’t want to be late for that.”
“I quit, remember? Anyway, we need to keep working on rescuing Grandpa from the kidnappers.”
Sergeant Purcell steps in. “Max, we actually don’t think your grandpa has been kidnapped.”
“What do you mean? I saw the ransom note.”
“We think someone was playing a not-very-funny joke. There were a lot of things that didn’t make sense about the note.”
“So we’re not going to pay the million dollars?” I ask.
Sergeant Purcell shakes her head. “Some of my officers will still go to the park tonight, just in case. But we can’t see any reason why someone would have kidnapped your grandpa.”
Dad uses his grip on our shoulders to steer us out of the office and all the way back out of the police station.
“But, Dad, what about Breakfast-Hot-Dog Guy?” I ask.
Dad gives a huge sigh. “We’ll look into it, Max. We’ll look into it.”
No, they won’t.
Dad tells us we need to go to our talent quest meeting at the town hall or go h
ome. I say we’ll go to the meeting, but only because I’m hatching a totally different plan that he doesn’t need to know about.
“I don’t understand,” Hugo says as he, Duck, and I walk down the main street of Redhill.
“What don’t you understand, Hugo?” I ask. “The meaning of life? Whether a whale ever gets a runny blowhole?”
“Why we’re going to a meeting for all the people in the talent quest if . . . you’ve quit the talent quest?”
“Well, I haven’t officially quit.”
“So you’re still going to compete in it?”
Poor Hugo. He’s a little on edge.
“We’re going to the meeting so that we can sneak out and catch the kidnapper,” I explain.
“What?”
“Haven’t you been paying attention? Remember the ransom note? The kidnapper is going to be at Redhill Park at eight p.m. to collect the million dollars. We’re going to be there too.”
We walk up the steps to the front door of the town hall. All the other contestants are arriving too – the horse guy, the opera singer, Abby the stupid magician. I even see Tumbles walking across the parking lot from the warehouse next door. Oh, boy, I would love to beat all these people – do I really need to quit?
I shake my head. Yes, yes, you do. Stay focused, Max. Hugo, it turns out, is talking.
“But the police don’t think the ransom note is real. Sergeant Purcell –”
I interrupt. “Sergeant Purcell said the police were going to be there anyway, which tells you something, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?”
“Regardless, between Sergeant Purcell and Mr. Purple Juice at the front desk, I’m no longer convinced the police are up to the task of rescuing Grandpa. It’s up to us now, Hugo.”
“I don’t think your dad would like this plan.”
“Oh, he’d hate it.”
The talent quest meeting is a complete waste of time. Rupert tells us how Saturday night’s event is going to run – what time to be there, where to stand, that the stage lights mean we need to wear makeup (no way). I don’t have to know any of this, because I’m going to tell Rupert I quit.
Rupert is standing on the stage, which we all know is where he wants to be. The contestants are sitting in the front row of the hall while he parades around in front of us under the lights.
“I don’t think you’ll get ten thousand people in here, Rupert, poppet,” Tumbles calls out from the back row. For some reason, the stupid clown is too cool to sit with the rest of us. Fine with me!
Rupert snaps out of his rant and brushes his chest with his hands as though he’s dropped crumbs on his shirt and he’s trying to get them off.
Ugh. How much longer till we can leave?
“My point is,” Rupert continues, “you’ve likely never been in front of an audience this big before. You won’t have heard cheering this loud or had so many pairs of eyes watching your every move, listening to your every word . . .”
I glance up and around the seats. I hate to admit it, but Rupert is onto something. It would feel pretty amazing to be up on that stage. The whole town of Redhill will be here.
Maybe I don’t really need to quit . . .
Forget it! I instantly remember all the reasons why I decided to quit. I turn to Hugo. I need to stay focused. The funny kid is gone. I’ve got more important things to do, like catch a kidnapper!
“Where are you guys going?” Abby asks. “The meeting hasn’t finished yet!”
But Hugo and I are already on our way out.
It’s dark outside as Hugo and I run down the front steps of the town hall and, joined by Duck, head toward Redhill Park.
“Where are you idiots going?”
Oh, no, she’s following us! Abby Purcell, my personal bad dream, is running down the steps behind us. Just ignore her and keep going! That’s my motto.
Hugo, on the other hand, stops and starts to explain. “We’re going to –”
“Don’t engage with her, Hugo!” I say. “Just keep running.”
“Keep running where?” Abby asks.
“The –”
Why does Hugo always feel like he needs to answer her when she asks him a question?
“Oh, really, Max? I’m like a . . . fart?” She speeds up to reach my side and then settles into a jog. I’m focused on the footpath and getting to Redhill Park, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see her glaring at me. It’s very off-putting.
Aaaaarrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!
“All right! I’ll tell you!” I yell. “We’re going to buy ice cream.”
“You are the worst liar ever.”
She’s so annoying that I almost don’t realize we’ve arrived at Redhill Park.
“Get down!” I say, and grab Hugo and Duck, pulling them into a hedge.
Abby stops in the middle of the footpath and looks very confused. “Why did you just climb into a hedge?”
She is going to ruin everything! If the kidnapper sees us, they won’t make an appearance at the park. Then we’ll never be able to rescue Grandpa.
“Abby, either get in here with us, or go away! Right now, I don’t care which!”
She cocks her head slightly to the side. “You want me to climb into that hedge with you guys?”
I can hear footsteps. Someone is coming down the path!
“It’s either this hedge or that garbage bin over there. Quick!”
I can tell Abby hears the footsteps too. She’s thinking it over . . . thinking it over . . . thinking it –
“Oh, come on!” I groan.
She jumps into the hedge. “Why do I always seem to end up in some sort of shrubbery with you guys?” she grumbles.
The footsteps are very close now.
“Trust me,” I whisper. “I hate it as much as you do.”
“Really?” Hugo says. “I quite like it. It’s so snuggly.”
I would like to interrupt this moment to say that putting your hand over someone’s mouth when they are trying to talk is rude and an invasion of personal space and, well, basically you should never ever do it.
Unless . . . it’s an extremely, EXTREMELY specific circumstance. That one specific circumstance when it is okay to put your hand over someone’s mouth to silence them is when:
Your grandpa has been kidnapped.
You are hiding in a hedge to try to catch the kidnapper.
Abby Purcell is hiding in that hedge with you, but doesn’t really know why.
Abby Purcell decides to speak very loudly because she just saw her mom.
The other thing that’s important to note is that if you find yourself in this exact situation and you do what I just did – cover someone’s mouth with your hand – then you have no idea what could happen next.
Abby glares at me with eyes that look like fiery asteroids that are just about to explode into my face. She puts both hands on my shoulders and, with the strength of the Incredible Hulk and Optimus Prime’s baby, shoves me straight out of the hedge. I go flying through the air, flip twice, and end up sprawled on the footpath.
Yep. I probably deserved that.
Only now we have a much bigger problem.
Sergeant Purcell hears the splat of my face on the concrete and turns around as Abby and Hugo step out of the hedge and Duck does a runner. Her eyes go very wide, very quickly.
Which is how Abby, Hugo, and I find ourselves locked in the back of a police car while the cops check the park for any sign of the kidnapper.
None of us is talking to each other, unless you count Hugo’s tummy rumbling. I don’t know what’s going on in there, but his intestines seem to have sensed a gap in the conversation and now have a lot to say.
Abby’s mad because I got her in trouble with her mom. I’m mad because Abby ruined my face and my chance of catching the kidnapper and rescuing Grandpa. Hugo is mad because . . . I don’t know why Hugo is mad. I think he’s just hungry. That must be what his tummy is yabbering on about. We did miss dinner.
After
a long time, Sergeant Purcell gets back in the car and starts the engine.
“Did you catch the kidnapper? Did you rescue Grandpa?” I ask.
Something’s happened to Sergeant Purcell’s eyebrows. They seem to be stuck in a V shape. There’s some crazy eyebrow DNA in this family.
“No, Max. As I told you at the police station, we think the ransom note was fake. We were just here to make sure. It’s very important that you leave this job to us. This is not a job for kids, okay? I’m taking you home to your parents.”
Under different circumstances, it probably would have been quite exciting to get a ride in a police car. Instead I have to sit next to Abby Purcell and endure conversations like:
“Max, if I can offer you some advice . . .”
“I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“It’s just that now that you’re quitting things you’re terrible at, I think you should probably add ‘detective’ to your list.”
There’s this thing they call solitary confinement that sounds amazing right now.
Mom and Dad are super mad. But they also say nice things like, “We know you’re worried about Grandpa” and “We understand you were just trying to help” and “You boys often do very stupid things when you’re hungry.”
But mostly they say, “We will find Grandpa. You need to leave it to the grown-ups. You mustn’t try to find Grandpa by yourself again.”
Then they send us to bed. I fall asleep thinking about the fact that I forgot to quit the talent quest while we were at the meeting and that it looked very cool up on that stage tonight.
Then I have a nightmare about Tumbles.
Hugo and I get ready for school early.
I run around the house like a crazy person trying to find everything I need to solve all of my life’s problems, and Hugo walks around slowly, saying things like, “What are you doing?” and “I don’t understand” and “Have you seen my pants?”
