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Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries

Page 4

by Donna Jo Napoli


  “Oh,” I said.

  “Daddy doesn’t develop his own pictures,” said Mother.

  “I just wanted to make an interesting sentence.”

  Dictionaries are dumb.They don’t give enough information. And I just realized something: I needed more information.

  Outside

  I went outside.

  “Hi, Brian.”

  “I can’t find Wilson.” Brian sat back on his heels. He looked sad. “Taxi is a murderer.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “Watch.” Brian jumped around like a madman.

  He reminded me of something. I couldn’t think what.

  Taxi came from under the bushes. She sat on the stoop. She watched Brian.

  “See?” said Brian. “Taxi wants to eat me.”

  Oh, now I got what all that jumping was. “You didn’t look like Wilson, Brian.”

  “Maybe not to you.”

  Brian had a point. And he was becoming pathetic. “All right, Brian, tell you what. If you don’t find Wilson by Saturday, I’ll take my allowance and buy you a new mouse.”

  “I don’t want a mouse,” said Brian.

  “Come on, Brian, all mice are the same.”

  “I know. That’s why I don’t want one.”

  There was no hope to this conversation. “See you later, Brian.”

  I walked into Brian’s yard, through the rear hedges, and into Melody’s yard.

  I knocked on her back door.

  Melody opened the door. She held Pong in her arms. He wiggled when he saw me.

  “Where did you play catch with Pong?” I said.

  “In the backyard,” said Melody.

  “Get the ball,” I said.

  “But you said not to play catch anymore.”

  “Just get the ball.”

  Monkey

  Melody and Pong ran outside.

  I followed.

  “Let’s play monkey in the middle,” said Melody.

  That sounded good to me. Melody throws fine. I throw even better. I play baseball, after all.

  Melody threw me the ball.

  Pong ran toward me and jumped.

  I threw Melody the ball.

  Pong ran back toward Melody and jumped.

  Melody threw me the ball.

  Pong ran toward me.

  I threw Melody the ball.

  Pong ran toward Melody.

  Melody threw me the ball.

  Pong threw himself on the ground. He panted.

  Melody laughed.

  I laughed.

  Pong gave a breathless bark.

  “He hates being the monkey,” I said. “Just play catch with him, like you did before.”

  “Here, Pong.” Melody threw the ball to Pong.

  Pong lay there. The ball hit him in the face. He yipped.

  “Oh, poor baby,” said Melody. She ran to Pong and sat on the ground beside him. “You’re so pooped, you can’t move.”

  I sat down too. “Does he always get pooped so fast?”

  “No. Usually he chases the ball a couple of times. Then he loses interest and wanders off. That’s when the weird stuff starts.”

  “Have you got two bananas?” I said.

  “I thought we were through with the monkey theme,” said Melody. “Besides, Pong just licks bananas. He won’t eat them.”

  “But we will. And we need something to eat while we wait.”

  “What are we waiting for?”

  I was stalling. But Melody didn’t need to know that. “Just get the bananas.”

  So Much Jumping Going On

  We finished our bananas.

  Pong was still recovering.

  Finally, Pong got up. He wandered through the grass.

  “Come back, Pong,” said Melody.

  “Shhh,” I said. “Let him go. I need to see him act weird.”

  “But he might go through the hedge into Brian’s yard.”

  “We can stop him if he tries,” I said.

  Melody frowned. But she didn’t say anything else. Pong wandered along.

  Then he jumped.

  “He’s doing it,” said Melody. She got to her feet.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Wait.”

  Pong jumped in the other direction.

  Pong jumped twice in a row.

  He practically flipped over and jumped in the other direction.

  He looked surprised.

  And he reminded me of something.

  He reminded me of Brian—when Brian was trying to act like Wilson.

  And now I knew what Brian had reminded me of. He reminded me of Melody—when Melody had been trying to jump like Pong.

  So much jumping going on.

  And Brian didn’t want a new mouse.

  And his mother put Wilson in a bucket.

  And, what had Brian said? Wilson would like ponds.

  A Bucket

  “Go get a bucket,” I said.

  “We can’t put Pong in a bucket,” said Melody.

  “It’s not for Pong. Get a deep one.”

  Melody ran into her garage. She brought back a beach bucket.

  “Get ready,” I said. “We’re about to catch Wilson.”

  “Who’s Wilson?”

  “Brian’s pet.”

  “Oh. What is he?”

  I didn’t know for sure. “You’ll see. Come on.”

  I walked up behind Pong.

  Pong jumped.

  I snatched the little froggy in front of him. “Yay,” I said,“we found Wilson.” I dropped him in the bucket.

  “Look,” said Melody. She pointed.

  Pong jumped again.

  I caught another frog. “Wow.”

  Pong jumped.

  Melody caught a frog. “Ack!” She dropped it in the grass. “Yuck, they’re slimy.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “How many are there?” said Melody.

  “I don’t know. Brian never told me there was more than one.”

  “I’ll go call Jack. He’s good at frogs,” said Melody.

  No More Tears

  “Got him,” said Jack. He put a frog in the bucket.

  Pong jumped.

  “Got him,” said Jack. He put another frog in the bucket.

  I put a frog in myself.

  “Got him,” said Jack.

  I didn’t know why Jack had to announce every frog he caught. But he was catching a lot. So it was okay.

  Pong kept jumping.

  Jack and I kept catching.

  Finally, Pong stopped jumping.

  We waited awhile.

  Pong wandered.

  Then he jumped.

  Jack caught another frog.

  We waited.

  Melody’s father drove into the driveway.

  “Pong and I have to go inside now,” said Melody.

  “I’ll stay awhile,” said Jack. “Just to be sure.”

  “You solved the case,” said Melody. “You can choose what baseball cards you want.”

  “Tomorrow.” I picked up the bucket. “I’ll bring these froggies to Brian now,” I said.

  Melody smiled and went inside.

  I pushed my way through the hedge.

  Brian sat in my driveway, looking sad.

  When he saw the bucket in my hand, he smiled. Just like Melody.

  “Here,” I said. “Which one is Wilson?”

  “They’re all Wilson.”

  “You mean you named each one Wilson?”

  “No, they’re all Wilson. All together.”

  “You named all your frogs Wilson.” I looked down into the bucket. “Well, is Wilson complete now?”

  “Let’s see. One, two, six, nine, twenty, sixteen. Yup. That’s Wilson.”

  Frog Dog

  My third case fit, after all. It was the case of the Frog Dog.

  Pong loves to jump like Wilson. Just for fun, Melody brought over Pong yesterday and Brian put one part of Wilson into the grass. Pong j
umped like crazy.We all laughed.And no frog was hurt.

  Everyone was happy. Except Taxi. She hissed at Pong.

  Pong hid behind Melody.

  Pong is a funny dog.

  And that concludes my three pet cases. Each case was a success.

  It’s great being Sly the Sleuth.

 

 

 


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