“I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said. “We can’t wait for him.” Mr. Miles spun around and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Charlie, are you ready? I told you that things like this can happen. Your country needs you, son. This will be your finest hour . . . your moment of glory . . . your Super Cup.”
“You mean Super Bowl?” Henry said.
“Whatever,” he said. “Are you with us?”
I suddenly felt as if I was standing in Mrs. Jansen’s class about to rattle off the answer to a brainteaser. Except in class, I knew what I was doing. This was different. I was completely out of my element. I felt the stares of my fellow actors burning holes right through me. I was worried about screwing up and embarrassing myself. I might never live it down. And even if I did agree to do it, then what? It sure didn’t guarantee a flawless performance. How would I be remembered following a less-than-stellar debut? Would it go something like, “Well, at least he tried”? That wasn’t nearly good enough. But if I told Mr. Miles that I was unable to perform—that I just wasn’t prepared—then they would have to cancel the show. And that would be on me.
What I needed right now was a pep talk, and it had to be from the one person who could talk me into doing almost anything—Sam Solomon. I tried to recall if Sam had ever found himself in such a predicament. I thought hard . . . and fast. There was no time to waste. And then all at once I had it—Episode #64—The Santa Claws Caper. In this story, Sam was hired by officials at Yosemite National Park in California following a series of bear attacks during the Christmas holidays. The ranger service had been unsuccessful at tracking down the beast. During his investigation, Sam made a connection between the firing of a department store Santa and the bear attacks. Apparently the Santa, who had been hired by park officials to entertain children of campers, had been arriving for work in a state of drunkenness. Sam soon determined that the Santa, in a desperate plot to seek revenge against those who had fired him, had dressed up as a bear and attacked campers while they slept. One night, Sam managed to corner something in a remote cave—it was either the alleged Santa or a real bear. He wasn’t sure. When he entered the cave and approached his prey, he was uncertain if he was up to the challenge. What if this turned out to be a seven-foot, eight-hundred-pound grizzly? But Sam knew that it was now up to him and him alone to end the attacks on unsuspecting campers.
I walked up to Mr. Miles and held my head high. If Sam could dispel his fears and face danger head-on, then so could I. Neither of us knew what the future would hold, but that wouldn’t stop us.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
“Marvelous,” Mr. Miles cried. “Now get to wardrobe, and make it snappy.”
I promptly walked into wardrobe and found a dozen exasperated moms and a wall of sewing machines that had been running nonstop for days. When I announced that I would be taking on the role of Nick Dakota, you should have seen the looks on their faces. You see, the slacker had a slimmer physique than yours truly, and the clothes that had been made for him would never fit me. But that didn’t stop the moms. They were driven. They had me in costume in less than twenty minutes.
As I stood in the wings waiting for my cue, I realized that there was actually one good thing about being pressed into service. My mom would be delirious when she saw me onstage. She and my dad had come to the play with Henry’s parents to support both him and Scarlett. Never in a million years would they have expected to see me in the spotlight. This would be a great opportunity to win a few points. I knew they’d come in handy the next time I got caught in the garage taking on new clients. But I was worried about what my parents—make that everyone in the audience—would think when I botched my lines. I wasn’t looking forward to embarrassing myself, but I had given Mr. Miles my word, and there was no going back now.
When Scarlett eventually delivered the line that was supposed to trigger my entrance, I froze. I might still be standing there had not Stephanie rammed me from behind. I remember stumbling onto the stage, and from there everything was a blur. I only recall bits and pieces of what took place for the next hour. And when the curtain finally fell on Mr. Miles’s playwriting debut, despite my fears, it turned out to be a magnificent night at the theater. Scarlett was her usual perfect self. Henry managed to turn his character into a memorable villain. Stephanie, believe it or not, was nearly flawless. She did, however, work a few nods in whenever the audience would applaud. Then, of course, there was Brian the hisser. I saw Mr. Miles roll his eyes whenever Brian would pull away from anyone who got too close to him. There was one especially trying moment when Scarlett needed to hand him a wad of cash. Brian would have none of it. And for a while there, it looked like the two were playing a game of tag onstage. She eventually just threw it at him. The crowd seemed to love it, though. The other assorted cast members did themselves proud. All in all, the production was nearly glitch free.
And then there was me. I actually surprised myself by remembering most of my lines. But there were a couple of times when I had no idea what I was supposed to say. I had gone totally blank. It could have been a disaster. But once again, Sam Solomon came to the rescue. Instead of freezing in front of scores of onlookers, I found myself trying to recall specific dialogue from one of the Sam novels with a similar theme. And then I simply rattled it off and hoped for the best. It confused some of the actors momentarily, but Mr. Miles would later call it a masterful job of ad-libbing. I was still, however, somewhat nervous about the last scene—with Scarlett. Our characters were together in the courtroom when the jury returned from deliberations. And then right on cue, as if we had practiced it a million times, the jury foreman rose, delivered a not-guilty verdict, and Scarlett leaned over and hugged me. But that wasn’t all. For good measure, she planted a kiss on my cheek.
I don’t have to tell you what that meant. I got so flustered after the big moment that I nearly forgot the rest of my lines. But, in true Sam Solomon style, I pulled it together and finished strong. The audience couldn’t have been more receptive. There were three curtain calls. And it was so nice to see Mr. Miles get the biggest hand of all, including a standing ovation. He gathered us all together backstage after the show and told us how proud he was of the group. Then he singled out two of us.
“Scarlett,” he said. “You are a natural. I expect to see you on this stage many more times. And I hope you’ll continue your acting in high school. Will you think about that?”
She nodded and smiled.
“And Charlie, what can I say? You became an understudy so that you could concentrate on your private detective business. I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision at the time. But in the end, you managed to excel at both. I couldn’t be more proud of you.” He grinned. “Okay, everyone . . . group hug.”
We all swarmed Mr. Miles and then hugged one another. All except the hisser, that is.
“Please tell your parents to join me at the Burger Factory on Chestnut in thirty minutes. It’s the official cast party, and it’s on me.”
Collective cheers followed as we made our way to the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms to change into street clothes. Afterward, as we waited for our parents to find us, I enjoyed a quiet moment with Scarlett in an outer hallway.
“Well, you did it again, Charlie,” she said. “You not only helped capture the Sam Solomon copycat, but you were amazing onstage tonight. And to think you pulled that off with only a handful of rehearsals.”
“Listen, I’m no star,” I said. “But you were unbelievable. I think you should consider what Mr. Miles said. This could be a new career for you.”
“I’ve got plenty of time to think about that,” she said. “Right now I’m wondering if there’s any more excitement in store for us.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“First we’re mixed up in a life-and-death caper and then”—she pointed in the direction of the stage—“all of this. Life’s about to get pretty dull, I’m afraid.”
A few more kids stepped out of the locker rooms and high-fived us.
“On the contrary,” I said. “Who knows? Tomorrow someone may walk into our office and present us with a killer caper. That’s how these things work. You just gotta be patient.”
Mr. Miles emerged from one of the offices and smiled at us as he walked by. And seconds later, the principal, Mr. Reeves, ran up to Mr. Miles, smiled, patted him on the back, and then took off in full gallop.
“I wonder what that’s about,” I said as I watched Mr. Reeves sprint down the hallway.
And then before Scarlett could respond, Sherman walked up. He seemed out of breath.
“Great job tonight, guys,” he said. “But enough of that; I need your help. I’m in big trouble. I’m being framed.”
“Framed? What happened?” Scarlett said.
Sherman looked around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “Word has it that someone emptied an entire container of powdered laxative into the principal’s water cooler. And for some reason, he thinks it was me.”
I smiled. “Well, that would explain why he was in such a hurry.”
Scarlett chuckled.
“Come to my office after school on Monday,” I said. “We’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks, Collier, you’re the best,” Sherman said. He waved and disappeared.
I turned to Scarlett. “And you thought it was going to get boring around here, huh?”
She grinned and grabbed my sleeve. “Come on, it’s time to party.”
And so off we went to celebrate with Mr. Miles. When we got to the restaurant, the parents decided to let all of the kids sit together. I’m not so sure they really had our best interests in mind. They just wanted to sit with other grown-ups and talk about the boring things that grown-ups talk about. It was fine with us. And it got even better when I managed to sit next to Scarlett. We spent the evening laughing and talking about some of the funny things that had happened at rehearsals. All in all, it was the perfect night. And it capped off the perfect week. First my partners and I had put an end to a crime spree that had plagued Oak Grove for weeks. And then we managed to dazzle the crowd onstage. It didn’t get much better than that.
At one point when everyone else was joking around and having a good time, I found myself thinking about the future—the future of the agency, and the future of Scarlett and me or Scarlett and not me. I was never quite certain how that would work out. But there was one thing I was sure about, even if Scarlett wasn’t. I was confident that there was plenty of excitement just waiting for us out there. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. And you know why? Because as long as there were people with problems, people in trouble, people with nowhere else to turn, then there’d always be a need for someone like me . . . and Henry . . . and Scarlett. So, despite my parents’ best efforts, the Charlie Collier, Snoop for Hire Agency is destined to keep its doors open and ready to take on its next adventure. Won’t you join us?
And there you have it, another case—opened and closed. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope we kept you thinking along the way. Were you able to solve any of Henry’s brainteasers? And how about the science problems posed by Mrs. Jansen? Did you see the connection between the Sam Solomon radio series and the crime spree? Did you have any idea what the “SS” cards were all about? And when it was determined that the culprit did indeed have a gripe with Sam, were you able to figure out why? This was a tough case. I don’t mind telling you that I was pretty worried when we were locked up in the library basement. For the benefit of my partners, I tried to appear confident, but to be perfectly honest, I had my doubts if we’d ever get out of there alive. I’m just sooo glad that I’m here today to talk with you about it.
And so if you were able to correctly solve any of the problems above, you just might be ready for your next challenge. In order to be considered agency material and worthy enough to join our little firm, you’ll need to tackle one more brainteaser. Here goes: Write down the word LIVING. That’s L-I-V-I-N-G. Tell me how can you eliminate four letters from that word and still have six remaining? Think about it. You have to take four letters away and still have six left. Did you figure it out yet? Do you need more time? Did we stump you? For those who can’t quite crack this one, here’s the answer. Take away the first two letters, L and I, and the last two letters, N and G. And what’s left? That’s right . . . V-I. The correct answer is now staring you right in the face. VI is the Roman numeral for, you guessed it, six.
If you were able to figure that one out, you’re well on your way to joining the agency. If not, don’t worry, there are plenty more brainteasers and more mysteries to come. If you’d like to sharpen your deductive-reasoning skills, you might want to visit my official website: www.charliecolliersnoopforhire.com. You’ll discover a page of brainteasers that you might find pretty challenging. And if you have a favorite brain buster that you’d like to try to stump me with, just send it in an e-mail to [email protected], and I’ll do my best to figure it out. So, until next time, keep reading and keep solving brainteasers. That’s one way to stay sharp. Because you never know who may come calling. Someday there just might be a knock on your door and one of us will be standing there with a personal invitation to join the Charlie Collier, Snoop for Hire Agency. Will you be ready to answer the call?
JOHN MADORMO is a screenwriter, author, and professor of broadcast communications at North Central College in Naperville, Illinois. John sold a family comedy screenplay to a Los Angeles production company and has optioned nearly a dozen other scripts. And just like Charlie Collier, he loves reading mystery novels and solving brainteasers.
www.charliecolliersnoopforhire.com
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