Sly the Sleuth and the Sports Mysteries

by Donna Jo Napoli

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “You joined the team two whole weeks ago and you never told me?”

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Melody shrugged. “But every time I start, we get interrupted.”

  “Wow.” The things you don’t know about people.

  I really was slipping.

  “Don’t look so sad,” said Melody. “It’s not like I was keeping it a secret or anything.”

  “But I should have noticed,” I said.

  “How? Last Wednesday you had a dentist appointment. And that was the first meeting of the team.”

  “Oh.” I felt better. Good old Melody. I picked up my apple again and chewed slowly. “I thought you hated swimming.”

  “I do. I always feel like I’m drowning. We start with fifteen minutes of kickboard time.The coach clocks us. I’m bad at it, no matter how hard I kick.”

  “What’s that?” Jack sat down across from us. “Did you say something about being bad at kicking?”

  Melody stiffened. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

  “What did she say?” Jack said to me.

  “You have to ask her,” I said.

  “What did you say?” Jack said to Melody.

  “I have to go.” Melody got up. “See you later, Sly.” She left. And she hadn’t even eaten her sandwich.

  “What’s wrong with her?” asked Jack.

  “She joined the swim team.”

  “The swim team.That’s a real sport. Not like stupid ballet.”

  I didn’t like ballet. But I was Melody’s best friend. I pointed my carrot at Jack. “Ballet’s just as athletic as any sport.”

  Jack took my carrot. “Thanks. So what was she saying about kicking bad?”

  “She doesn’t kick bad. She kicks good. She’s just bad at the kickboard. Her swim coach drills her.”

  “He drills her at kicking?”

  “I guess.”

  Jack stuffed his sandwich in his mouth and got up. He left. He didn’t even say good-bye.

  First Melody. Now Jack.

  I felt like I had cooties.

  The Cooler

  I walked home alone. When I got to Melody’s house, I cut through Brian’s yard.

  Brian came bursting out his back door. He ran into my garage. He carried out a picnic cooler. “Get a knife.”

  I decided to ignore that. He was four, and four-year-olds know they’re not supposed to play with knives.“Whose cooler is that?”

  “My mother threw it out.” He set it in the driveway and took the top off. Then he brushed the inside with his hands and put the top back on. “Get a knife.”

  “How did it get in my garage?”

  “I put it there.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “It’s Taxi’s new home. Get a knife.”

  “Brian, a cat can’t sleep in a picnic cooler.”

  “It’ll keep her warm,” said Brian.

  “She’d suffocate.”

  Brian turned the cooler upside down and pointed. “Cut a door.”

  I thought about it. Picnic coolers were insulated.They should keep in heat as easily as they kept in cold. It was ridiculous, but Brian was right. With a door in the side, the cooler would be like an igloo. Taxi might like it. She might like it better than her wooden box with the blanket in the garage. “Wait here.” I went inside and got the old bread knife Dad used for helping me on projects.

  My mother was chopping carrots. “Where are you going with that knife, Sly?”

  “To cut a hole in a picnic cooler.”

  “Why on earth would you want to do a thing like that?”

  “Sly,” called Melody. She stood at the porch door.

  “I thought you were at swim team practice.”

  “I was. Oh, Sly, everything is ruined.”

  I put down the knife. “Come on in, Melody.”

  Fins

  We went upstairs to my bedroom to talk in private.

  As soon as I shut the door, Melody paced. “I’ll never get good at the dumb kickboard now. And I’ll never feel comfortable in the water. And they won’t pick me. And my whole spring’s ruined.”

  “Sit down.”

  Melody sat on the edge of my bed.

  “Take a deep breath.”

  Melody took a deep breath.

  “Do you know that you use the word ‘ruin’ at least once a day? You’re dramatic, Melody.”

  “Do you really think so?” Melody said hopefully. “Really?”

  This was going nowhere.“You’re already on the team. They take everyone who comes. So you don’t have to worry about getting picked.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Melody bit the side of her thumbnail.

  “Okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It happened again.”

  “What happened again?”

  “My fins disappeared.”

  “You don’t have fins.”

  “Yes I do. Everyone on the swim team has fins.”

  Oh, that kind of fins.“I was joking,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “No. So where were these fins?”

  “In my cubby. They were stolen.”

  “You mean like the last time?” I said.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” said Melody. “I didn’t make fun of you when you thought I meant real fins.”

  “Sorry. Let me get this straight.You had fins in your cubby?”

  “Yes,” said Melody. “And this time there is definitely a thief. I checked my cubby. Fins are big.You can’t miss them.”

  “This is weird,” I said.

  “So will you take my case?”

  Taxi loved fish, and fish had fins. Taxi would love this case. Probably any cat would. “Yes,” I said.

  “Good.” Melody got up.

  “Wait. Tell me what you meant before. About getting picked and spring.”

  “It’s kind of a long story. And, anyway, it’s not that big a deal. I was just being dramatic. Like you said. I’ve got to go now.”

  Melody had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. I knew things about her. Right now I knew she was keeping a secret. From me.

  Brilliant

  I followed Melody downstairs.

  We went out to the driveway.

  My mother was on her knees beside Brian.They were putting duct tape over the rough edges of a freshly cut door in the side of the cooler.“Come see,” Mother said. “It’s a little house for Taxi to sleep in outside.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “It’s cute,” Melody said.

  “It’s Brian’s invention. Isn’t it brilliant?” Mother’s voice was proud. You’d think Brian was her child.

  My cheeks got hot, even out here in the chilly air. It wasn’t nice to be jealous of a four-year-old. I smiled as big as I could. “It’s great, Brian.” I turned to Melody. “Are you sure you have to go so fast?”

  “I need to do something.”

  “Can I help?”

  Melody blinked at me. “Maybe.”

  We cut through Brian’s yard and Pong jumped on us. He was tied to a long rope, so he could run all over Melody’s yard.

  “Do they make coolers big enough for dogs?” asked Melody.

  “Pong sleeps inside at night,” I said grumpily. “And he’s got a doghouse for the day.”

  “Yeah, but a doghouse isn’t as interesting as a cooler.You think I could find one big enough for him?”

  “I don’t know,” I said even more grumpily. “What do you need help with?”

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Melody lay down in the grass on her stomach. She held out her arms in front. “Pull me.”

  “Pull you?”

  “I didn’t get my full kickboard workout because I didn’t have my fins. So I need extra practice. Pull.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Just pull. And I’ll kick. It’ll be like I’m in the pool.”

  This was t
he wackiest idea I’d ever heard from Melody. “Have you been talking to Brian?”

  Melody sat up in a huff. “You said you wouldn’t make fun.”

  “Melody, this makes no sense.”

  “Yes it does. Coach said it was good to have people pull us while we kick.”

  “He meant in a pool.”

  “Well, I don’t have a pool,” said Melody. “I have grass.”

  “There’s too much friction.”

  Melody went over to her garbage can. She took out a big cardboard box. She flattened it. Then she lay down on it and held out her arms. “Either pull or go home.”

  I pulled.

  Spring

  Thursday at lunch Melody came in wearing her backpack again.

  She sat down beside me. “You’re not going to believe what I found in my cubby.”

  “Really?” I said.

  She took off the backpack and unzipped the big compartment.

  Two long red fins were stuffed inside. “They’re pretty,” I said.

  “They were there when I got to school.”

  “Strange,” I said.

  “Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

  I thought about pulling Melody through the grass the day before. I swallowed. “Not really.”

  “What do I owe you?”

  “It wasn’t a real case,” I said.“Don’t pay me.”

  “All right,” said Melody. “But I’ll give you two baseball cards, as a present then.”

  Melody didn’t play baseball, but she collected the cards.

  “Thanks.”

  Jack plopped down across from us. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s private,” said Melody. “Don’t you usually eat with the guys?”

  “They don’t give me carrots,” said Jack.

  Melody looked at me.

  “I didn’t actually give him carrots,” I said. “I pointed one at him and he took it.”

  “So, anyway, how’s the swimming?” asked Jack.

  Melody looked at me again.

  “I guess it sort of slipped out,” I said.

  “Not a good enough kicker for it, huh?” said Jack. “Your coach giving you a hard time?”

  “Hey, be nice,” said Melody,“or I’ll go out for soccer and kick your you-know-what.”

  Jack’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to go out for the spring league?”

  “Who knows what I’ll do in spring? I might do anything.” Melody got up. “See you later, Sly. We can practice in the grass after school.”

  She left. Without eating.

  And what was all this talk about spring? Yesterday she said spring would be ruined without her swim fins. And now she said she might do anything in spring.

  Jack got up.

  “Don’t you dare leave me sitting here alone,” I said.

  Jack left.

  I really did have cooties.

  Way to give a girl a complex.

  I lost my appetite.

  Generosity

  After school, Melody went home to eat. She said she was starving because she’d skipped lunch.

  I said I was hungry too. I don’t use words like “starving.” I’m not dramatic. But she didn’t invite me in.

  I went home with two new baseball cards. Taxi’s cooler sat by the porch step. I peeked inside. No Taxi.

  Brian came out of his house. “Wilson got better,” he said.

  “That’s great, Brian.”

  “Is Taxi in her cooler?”

  Taxi had refused to go in the cooler. She hated it. Secretly, this made me a little bit glad. “No, Brian. Sorry.”

  “Want a cookie?”

  “Did your mom make them?” Brian’s mom made the worst cookies.Whole wheat, sunflower seeds, and who knew what else. Brian’s mom was a health food nut. Maybe he was offering just to get rid of them.

  “I helped her. I rolled the dough.With a big rolling pin. It’s heavy.”

  I was hungry. But not that hungry. “No sweets before dinner.”

  “You can take one for later,” said Brian. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick cookie. It looked like a dog biscuit

  “Oh, hey,” I said quickly. “Here comes Melody.”

  Melody crossed Brian’s yard. She carried a half sandwich in each hand.

  “Want a cookie?” Brian said to Melody.

  Melody gave me a knowing look. “Uh, not now, Brian.”

  Brian’s eyes got sad. I think he was being genuinely generous.

  “I brought sandwiches for you and Sly. Tuna.” She held them out. She was being generous too.

  I took a bite of my half sandwich. And suddenly I got into the spirit of generosity. “Taxi,” I called.

  Taxi came running.

  I put a piece of sandwich in Taxi’s cooler and shoved the cooler in Taxi’s path.

  She went right inside.

  “Yay!” screamed Brian. He threw the cookie into the air and ran around us.“Taxi loves her cooler!”

  Melody peeked into the cooler. “She sure likes tuna.”

  “It’s her favorite,” I said.

  “Taxi tuna, tuna Taxi,” screamed Brian. He threw his half sandwich into the cooler.

  “I’m glad you came over.” I finished eating. “Thanks for the food.”

  “Ready to pull me?”

  “No. I’m ready to talk,” I said.

  “I knew this was coming,” said Melody.

  “Why did you join the swim team when you hate swimming?”

  “I need to get comfortable in the water.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Melody looked away.

  “I’m your best friend, Melody.”

  “All right, but you can’t tell.”

  “I’d never tell your secrets,” I said.

  “I won’t either,” said Brian.

  “You told Jack about the swim team.”

  “That was a mistake,” I said.

  “I never talk to Jack,” said Brian. “Or just sometimes. Just Saturdays. I only talk to Jack on Saturdays. And sometimes Tuesdays. And June. Sometimes June.”

  Brian loves June. His birthday is in June.

  “I know it has to do with spring,” I said. “So just tell.”

  “The school spring play is going to be The Little Mermaid.”

  “I love the little mermaid,” said Brian.

  “Everyone loves her,” said Melody.

  And I got it. “That’s what you meant about getting picked.You want the part.”

  “You have no idea how hard it is to move a kickboard fast, Sly. I kick like a maniac, and all I do is make bubbles and get tired.”

  “What’s the kickboard got to do with the play?”

  “I want to be a good mermaid. But you can’t tell anyone, because they might join the swim team too, and get better than me.”

  This was way too dumb for Melody. Maybe she really had lost her mind. “Melody, mermaids don’t kick,” I said softly. “They don’t have legs.”

  Melody’s eyes teared up. “Well, I know that.”

  “And the play will be on the stage. The water will just be a blue sheet or something.”

  Melody’s bottom lip quivered.“I know that too. But the swim team coach is the drama teacher. And he believes in method acting.”

  “What’s that?” asked Brian.

  Exactly my question.

  “It’s where actors try to really experience something, so they can act better.”

  “How’s that acting then? I mean, if you experience it, you’re not acting.”

  “Don’t argue with me, Sly. It’s not my idea. I just thought that if the coach saw me swimming good, he’d think I was a natural for the part.”

  “You are a natural for the part.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

  “I’m saying it because you’re so dramatic.”

  “Really?”

  “You’d be better if you had a fish tail,” said Brian.
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  “The costume will have a fish tail,” said Melody.

  “Good.” Brian jumped in a circle. “I want a fish tail too.”

  “If I get the part, I’ll let you wear it sometimes.”

  “Yay.”

  “Now you can quit the swim team,” I said. “Let’s celebrate.”

  “I’ll go get more cookies,” said Brian.

  Cleats

  On Friday Melody came into the lunchroom with her backpack on again.

  I stared. “What now?”

  “Soccer shoes.” Melody put her backpack on the bench beside her. “Beat-up ones. They smell.”

  “Well, at least this proves you aren’t losing your mind,” I said.

  “Who would put smelly old soccer shoes in my cubby?”

  Disappearing ballet slippers. Disappearing swim fins.And now magically appearing soccer shoes.

  They all had to do with feet.

  “Who cares about your feet, Melody? Besides you, I mean.”

  “My daddy does. He tickles them.”

  “Other than him?”

  “No one.”

  “Let’s be logical about this. Someone took away your ballet slippers, so you couldn’t have a good lesson.”

  Melody nodded.

  “And someone took away your swim fins, so you couldn’t have a good practice.”

  Melody nodded.

  “Someone doesn’t want you dancing or swimming. But someone wants you playing soccer.”

  “I don’t like soccer,” said Melody. “I’ll just throw them away.”

  She opened her pack and I saw the shoes inside.

  “Those aren’t for soccer. The spikes are metal. Those are for baseball.” I turned a cleat over. Written in red crayon on the bottom was the number 2. I recognized red crayon numbers. “Eat, Melody. And when Jack sits down with us, don’t leave, no matter what he says.”

  “What makes you so sure Jack will sit with us again?”

  Just then Kate came over. She looked me up and down. “It doesn’t matter if you’re short.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Cheerleading.You can do it,” said Kate.

  Jack jumped out at all of us.

  “You’re good at jumping,” said Kate. “You’d make a good cheerleader.”

  “I’m a guy,” said Jack.