“Geez Louise,” muttered Graeme, feeling something sour inside.
Bait
Graeme’s reflex to hide was not quick enough. Norris, who was no longer carrying a cardboard box, waved vigorously, and then he scrambled up the last of the stairs.
“I heard the news!” he puffed. “That’s one huge lobster!”
He adjusted his Big Fish ball cap, which had again slid down his huge sweaty forehead after his strenuous climb.
The sight of that coveted cap pushed away Graeme’s nagging doubts. A fresh wave of possibility hit him.
“My dad’s going to auction it off at this year’s lobster festival. Then we’ll be going to Big Fish. Well, that is, if it brings in the highest bid of the evening,” explained Graeme, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
Norris’s eyes flickered, and Graeme instantly wished that he had not told him anything. Norris used personal information like a weapon.
“You know what I think,” said Norris, all weasel-like. Norris never waited for an answer. “No one’s going to bid on that giant lobster. The meat will be too tough to eat, if you ask me.”
“Tough, maybe,” said Graeme. “But some people might want it for a trophy. Take your dad, for instance.”
Norris’s eyes flickered again.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “But I just talked to my dad at the cannery, and he’s only lukewarm about the idea.”
“Didn’t seem lukewarm down at the wharf,” argued Graeme.
“Oh, he’s lukewarm all right,” Norris announced with authority. The annoying jingling of coins commenced.
Graeme grasped the railing of the porch and looked out over the empty bay. How could he possibly get to Big Fish for a chance to talk to marine biologists in person if he had to rely on some stupid community auction? Lost in his own despair, Graeme was startled when Norris next spoke.
“You know what I think. I can talk my dad into bidding really high on your dad’s giant lobster.”
Graeme turned to Norris, Norris with his scratched-up arms crossed confidently against his chest, Norris with his polished metal smile, Norris who had been to so many more faraway places than Graeme could ever dream of.
Graeme sighed. With Norris, there was always a catch.
“What’s the catch?” asked Graeme.
Norris dug into his pocket and produced his list of suspects once again.
“Help me solve the cactus mystery,” said Norris, waving the list in front of Graeme’s face like bait.
Graeme glanced down at the government wharf. Already the large crowd around Homarus II was dispersing. Everyone was going home for the day.
Or maybe, thought Graeme with stomach flutters of panic, they were already losing interest in the monster lobster.
“Deal,” Graeme muttered, and he reluctantly took the list from Norris.
Norris beamed as he spun around and bounded down the stairs for home.
Martin Bridge: Ready for Takeoff! Page 5
