by Matt Stanton
Once we find his pants, I drag him out of the house, but instead of walking toward the bus stop, we start the long walk toward Redhill Nursing Home.
“Why are we going this way?” Hugo asks.
Duck waddles along beside us.
“Last night I had a dream,” I begin.
“Me too! I dreamt I was sleeping inside a lasagna,” Hugo says. “I was so warm.”
Weird.
“Last night Abby kept calling me a quitter. I didn’t like that. I’m not a quitter. You don’t think I’m a quitter, do you?”
“Well, you did quit the talent quest . . .”
“Exactly. That’s why I’ve changed my mind.”
“You’re not quitting the talent quest now?” Hugo asks.
“I am not quitting the talent quest.”
“So that’s what your dream was about? Not quitting?”
“No, no. My dream was about winning the talent quest!”
“Were you funnier than Tumbles in your dream?” Hugo asks.
“My dream was about Grandpa too.”
“What does your grandpa have to do with the talent quest?”
“Everything, Hugo. Everything.”
“I’m so confused,” Hugo says. “Your mom, your dad, the police, pretty much everyone has said that we’re not allowed to try and find your grandpa anymore. As your life coach, I need to tell you to leave it to the professionals.”
“You are not my life coach, Hugo, and we are not going to find Grandpa. If Mom and Dad and Sergeant Purcell want to do that by themselves, then that’s fine. Grandpa was never very nice to me anyway, and I have bigger challenges.”
Hugo blinks. “Max, I’m not understanding anything you’re saying.”
Hugo rubs his head with his hands. “I just want to go back and crawl inside my lasagna. Life was so much simpler then. How can your missing grandpa help you win the talent quest?”
I leave a pause for dramatic effect.
“Because, Hugo, my friend, we’re going to convince everyone that Tumbles the clown kidnapped him.”
It’s the work of a genius. Duck quacks. He clearly agrees.
“You think Tumbles kidnapped your grandpa?”
“Oh, no. Of course not,” I reply. “But if we make people think he did, and the police are investigating him, then we might be able to get him kicked out of the talent quest. And if Tumbles is out, then I’ll be the only funny one. And funny always wins.”
“But how would we ever convince people that Tumbles kidnapped your grandpa?”
I open up my backpack and Hugo looks inside.
“Hey, that’s my flower,” he says.
“It’s one of Tumbles’s plastic flowers. And we’re going to hide it at Redhill Nursing Home.”
Hugo stops. His eyes go wide and he starts shaking his head.
“The police will find it, and I don’t know about you, Hugo, but I’ve only seen one clown in Redhill.”
Hugo is looking very worried.
He tries to grab my backpack.
I yank it back. “Of course we can. And it’ll work too. We could even give Breakfast-Hot-Dog Guy a call with an anonymous tip and he’ll do all the work for us. Tumbles the clown will be history!”
“But . . . that’s not right, Max. Your grandpa is missing. He might be in danger, and all you can think about is that you might be able to use that to help you win the talent quest? I know Tumbles ruined your act, but this is too much.”
“What about your grandpa? Everyone’s worried about him, but you’re thinking about how his disappearance might be able to help you . . . cheat.”
“Well . . .” I stumble for the best words. “Um . . . I don’t know if I’d call it . . . cheating.”
Hugo’s eyes narrow. I don’t know if he’s ever glared at me like this before. If he wants me to keep being his best friend, he’s got a funny way of showing it.
“It’s definitely cheating, Max.” Then Hugo folds his arms. “I know your grandpa isn’t very nice, Max, but neither are you. If you do this, I’m going to . . . quit being your life coach.”
Well, that makes things easy, doesn’t it.
“You’re not my life coach, Hugo!”
He stares at me. “Apparently. Not.”
And then he turns around and walks back down the street.
“Hugo?” I call after him. “Hugo!”
But he ignores me.
I look down at my feathered friend.
Duck and I head around the back of the nursing home.
I thought the backyard would be empty first thing in the morning. Turns out old people must have breakfast at five a.m., because by seven thirty a.m. they’re all sitting outside, having their first nap of the day.
Up at the top of the garden I can see Dr. Duncanbray, or rather I can see the morning sun reflecting off all his teeth.
Duck and I squat in the bushes. I spend a lot of time in bushes. I put the plastic flower in his beak and then point up the hill to Dr. Duncanbray.
Duck looks at me blankly. Oh, I wish I could speak quack.
“Um . . . flower . . . give . . . creepy doctor.”
Still nothing.
I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t understand me. He’s just looking at me like he needs something.
“What do you want, Duck?”
He cocks his head to the side as though he’s saying, “I shouldn’t have to tell you.” Oh, I hate these games. Um . . .
“Duck, you know I love you, right . . . ?”
That was it! Duck’s off!
I watch as he run-waddles across the grass. Poor little guy. Must have gotten a bit frightened after my fight with Hugo. I’ve never seen Hugo like that. He normally just does whatever I tell him. I guess he feels strongly about this.
I look up and see Sir Phillip Bartholomew the Third standing on his deck chair and pointing his walking stick at Duck. I wonder how Grandpa is going without his new walking stick.
Duck’s way too fast for Sir Phillip. He runs around the chairs, under a table, and then between the legs of the old lady I met the other day. She looks through her legs and calls after him, “Are you Cyril?”
Duck runs all the way up to Dr. Duncanbray and drops the yellow flower at his feet.
Is Hugo right? Is this a really bad thing to be doing? Have I gone too far?
Dr. Duncanbray picks up the yellow flower and then seems to give it a little squeeze. The flower squirts water straight in his face!
That thing was filled with water! I had no idea. So that’s why Tumbles gave it to me after my act. It was a booby trap!
Oh, that stupid clown! That’s it. I almost thought better of this plan, but I should have known better.
That clown is going down.
To be honest, I have no idea if this plan will actually work. Dr. Duncanbray might go back inside and chuck the yellow flower in the trash . . . or he might give Sergeant Purcell a call.
I guess I just have to wait and see.
When I get to school, I call out to Hugo, but he doesn’t hear me. In class, I ask him to give me the answers to the homework, but he doesn’t hear me then either. Weird. After lunch, when Miss Sweet is reading to us, I throw an eraser at Hugo to get his attention, but he just asks Miss Sweet if he can go to the bathroom. I’m beginning to think he might be ignoring me.
He doesn’t even say anything when we walk from the bus stop. This is getting ridiculous.
“Hugo! Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
He stops on the front step and looks at me. “Are you still trying to make it look like Tumbles kidnapped your grandpa?”
“Of course I –”
Hugo walks inside.
Man! What’s a kid got to do around here to get some loyalty from his friends?
* * *
When I wake up the next morning, I can hear Sergeant Purcell talking to my parents downstairs. I stumble out.
Mom and Dad are sitting across from Sergeant Purcell in the lounge room. The furt
her we get into this week, the more tired my parents are beginning to look. Their faces have gone a weird shade of gray and they’ve started missing things. Like the fact that Rosie is playing with the . . .
“Power outlet!” I yell, and quickly grab Rosie’s hand, pulling it away from the power socket.
Mom and Dad turn their heads slowly, like sloths.
“Oh. Thanks, Max,” Dad says.
That’s when I see what’s sitting on the coffee table in front of them. It’s the yellow plastic flower.
“What is that?” I ask carefully.
Sergeant Purcell answers. “It was found at your grandpa’s nursing home, Max. It looks like some sort of party toy, but when you squeeze it, it squirts water, which makes me think it’s from a clown or children’s entertainer or something. No one at the nursing home had ever seen it before, so I thought I’d ask your parents if they recognize it. Just in case it has anything to do with your grandpa’s disappearance.” She turns back to my parents. “I knew it was a long shot, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
My parents nod. I guess this is my moment.
“I’ve seen that before,” I say.
All three of them turn and look at me.
“Where?” Sergeant Purcell asks.
“The clown who is in the talent quest with me. He has a whole bunch of them.”
“There’s a clown in the talent quest?” Mom asks.
“Yeah. He’s pretty mean too. His name is Tumbles.”
My parents look back at Sergeant Purcell.
She shrugs. “It would be good to talk to him, then. Do you know where he lives, Max?”
I shake my head. “No, but he’ll be at the rehearsal tonight. I could introduce you so you can have a chat with him, if you like?”
The police officer nods slowly.
My dad is rubbing his temples, clearly thinking about something.
“Do you think Tumbles had something to do with Grandpa going missing?” I ask.
“Oh, probably not, Max,” says Sergeant Purcell. “But in police work, it’s important to follow every lead. I might pop along to the rehearsal tonight and have a little chat with Tumbles.”
I nod and turn to go to the bathroom. Hugo is standing at the end of the hallway, watching me. Then he bows his head and walks into the bathroom, jumping the line.
As I stand there trying to hold it, I hear Dad mumbling to himself.
Those guys are seriously tired.
Mom and Dad can’t take me to the rehearsal tonight, because they have a meeting with, of all people, Breakfast-Hot-Dog Guy! There’s going to be a big article in Saturday’s newspaper about Grandpa’s disappearance. Apparently it might even make the front page. Who would ever think Grandpa would be famous?
Hugo doesn’t want to come with me either, because he says he has a sore tummy. Yeah, right! That’s fine. I don’t need him anyway.
When I arrive at the town hall, Sergeant Purcell and Abby are waiting for me on the front steps.
“Of course I do,” I reply. Actually, I’ve only got a couple of ideas, but I figure as long as I can get rid of Tumbles, this rehearsal should be a piece of cake. I look up at Sergeant Purcell. “Let me show you which one is Tumbles.”
“Does he have a giant red nose?”
“Sure does.”
“And a funny little hat?”
“Yep.”
“And enormous shoes?” she asks.
“They are pretty big.”
“Is there more than one clown in the talent quest?”
“Nope. Just Tumbles.”
“Then that’s probably him over there, then,” Sergeant Purcell says with a wink.
I turn to look over my shoulder and, sure enough, Tumbles is walking up toward the front door. “Ah, yes.”
Abby smirks. “My mom is a very good detective.”
“Excuse me, sir!” Sergeant Purcell calls out to Tumbles. “Do you mind if we have a quick chat?”
Tumbles stops and stares across at us. I imagine we must look a bit odd – a pretend magician, a police officer, and a genius comedian all standing together.
He slowly points to his chest as if to say, “Who, me?”
“Yes, you. You’re Tumbles the clown, correct?” Sergeant Purcell calls across the steps.
Tumbles stands very still and his mouth opens a little, but not to tell a joke. He reminds me of Rosie when she’s in trouble with Mom.
“I just want to ask you a few questions about Walter Walburt,” Sergeant Purcell says.
Tumbles’ eyes open wide. It looks as if he might know Grandpa’s name.
Then he turns.
And runs!
“Hey! Stop right there!” Sergeant Purcell yells, but Tumbles keeps running.
Abby and I actually look at each other in shock. Even I know you should never run away from a police officer if they want to talk to you. Whatever is going on, Tumbles does not want to talk to the police.
He runs inside the town hall. Sergeant Purcell follows and Abby runs after her.
Suddenly I can’t figure out what’s going on. I didn’t actually think Tumbles had anything to do with Grandpa going missing. Duck and I put the flower at Redhill Nursing Home. That was the whole reason Hugo was mad at me! I’m making it look like Tumbles had something to do with Grandpa’s disappearance, even though he didn’t.
But Tumbles certainly looked like he knew Grandpa’s name when Sergeant Purcell said it. Then he ran away! And he wouldn’t run away unless he was . . . guilty?
Have I just found Grandpa’s kidnapper . . . by accident?
Half an hour later, I’m standing on the stage for my turn in the rehearsal.
“I thought I saw Tumbles earlier,” Rupert says. “But he’s disappeared.”
“He’s in trouble with the police,” I mumble. I’m still in shock over what happened. Has Tumbles really kidnapped my grandpa?
Rupert looks a little stunned and then glances down at his clipboard. “Well, okay then. I guess that rules him out.” I watch him cross Tumbles’s name off his list. Then he looks up at me. “It seems like you’re it, funny kid.”
This is exactly what I wanted. Tumbles is out. I can win this thing now . . . but it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. I keep thinking about Grandpa.
“Take it away, Max.”
I look down at the piece of paper I’m holding, where I’ve scrawled a few jokes.
Come on, be a professional, I tell myself. Get this done and then work out what to do about Tumbles later. You can do this. You are the funny kid. You’re great at making people laugh. Do your stuff! Now there’s no reason not to get that mojo back!
I clear my throat.
I know there are not many people in the hall, but there is complete silence. This suddenly feels very familiar. I keep going.
I look at Rupert. I think he’s about to cry. I better explain the joke to him.
Okay, Rupert actually is crying now. He sits down in the front row and buries his head in his hands.
“My talent quest is going to be a disaster!” he sobs.
“It’s okay, I’ve got m-more,” I stammer. “Um, why did the chicken play drums in the middle of the highway? Because he wanted to become a –”
“Drumstick,” I finish weakly.
Rupert throws all his papers and his clipboard up into the air and marches toward the door.
He storms out.
I stand all alone in the middle of the stage until I hear footsteps approaching. It’s Abby Purcell, surely coming to rub my failure in my face. She’ll be right too. Even without Tumbles, I’m not funny anymore. The funny kid, just like my grandpa, has disappeared.
So come on, Abby Purcell. Hit me with it.
Instead she just puts one hand on my shoulder and says, “It’ll be okay, Max. It’ll be okay.”
It’s the middle of the night and Hugo is back sleeping on a trundle bed in my bedroom, because Rosie wet herself on the couch.
Hugo doesn’t reply, but that doesn’t
tell me much, because Hugo has been ignoring me for two days now. He might still be ignoring me. Or he could be asleep.
“Well, if you can hear me, Hugo, you were right. I’ve been way more worried about finding ‘funny kid’ than I have about finding Grandpa.”
There’s still silence. Hugo’s probably dreaming about being inside a lasagna again.
“I think Tumbles really might have Grandpa. And now all I can think about is that Grandpa is stuck somewhere with that stupid clown and no one knows where he is.”
I think I hear Hugo shuffle in his trundle bed.
“The talent quest can wait. I need to rescue Grandpa first, but to do that . . . I’m gonna need my life coach back.”
Slowly Hugo peeks up at me over the side of my mattress with a smile on his face.
Hugo and I leave straight after breakfast and head to the town hall. We decide that if we’re going to try to work out where Tumbles might have gone, it’s best we start at the last place we saw him.
“You know who would be really helpful?” Hugo says.
“Who?”
“Steve. We should call Steve.”
“We are NOT calling Steve! That dog hates me!” I shout.
“But he would be really good at finding Tu–”
“I thought we weren’t going to find Tumbles, Hugo. You were very bossy about how we are just going to try to work out where he could have gone and then tell Mom and Dad.”
“Yes, yes. You’re right,” Hugo replies. “We’re just trying to solve the mystery. We’re not going to do anything dangerous.”
“I would be happy to go have a little look, if we think we know where he’s hiding –”
“No, Max! We agreed –”
“Okay, okay. We’re here.”
I take Hugo to the place I last saw Tumbles, which is the front door of the town hall. We try the door, but it’s locked.
“The mysterious thing,” I say to Hugo, “is that if Tumbles is a clown who doesn’t want to be found, then he can’t really be seen moving around Redhill. He can’t catch a bus. He can’t walk to the town hall for the talent quest.”
