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The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse

Page 4

by Bruce Hale


  I clenched my fist. "I'll 'Big Baboo' you!"

  "Cool your jets, Gecko," said Rizzo. "Don't worry about that chameleon. It's like the farmer said when he lost the butter."

  "What's that?"

  "It'll churn up," she said. The Rat Sisters giggled.

  "That's enough," said Ms. Glick. "I'm going to separate you girls. And, Chester, you will erase that board and write one hundred times, 'I will zip my lip while I'm being punished.'"

  I sighed. If my luck continued, I'd be the detention champ of fourth grade. And I was so hungry, I could almost eat the chalk.

  Just then the loudspeaker squawked. Principal Zero's menacing purr cut through the static. "Calling Ms. Glick, calling Ms. Glick. This is your pimpernel speaking."

  Ms. Glick glanced sharply at the loudspeaker.

  The deep voice coughed. "I mean, this is your principal," it said. "Come to my office right now, Ms. Glick. Alone!"

  The Beast of Room 3 blushed.

  "I want to talk to you," said the voice, "in my office."

  Ms. Glick frowned. "But—" she said.

  "Right now, Glick. Get the lead out!" the voice commanded.

  Ms. Glick jumped. She looked at us students, then back at the loudspeaker. She stood up.

  "All of you, stay here," said the Beast. She pointed a claw at us. "And you'd better behave." Ms. Glick hustled out the door, thick tail dragging behind her.

  I looked at the Rat Sisters. They looked blankly back at me. What was going on?

  I edged toward the half-open windows, seeking a sneaky way out. A dark shape ducked behind the bushes outside. I stepped to the window and saw ... Natalie!

  "What are you doing?" I hissed.

  "A pretty good imitation of our principal," she whispered. "Want to hear it again?"

  I glanced back at the other kids in detention. They were shooting spitwads and chasing each other around the desks.

  Natalie threw her voice, and again the loudspeaker squawked. "Attention, students in detention!" growled Principal Zero's voice. "You'd better not try any funny business while Ms. Glick is in my office."

  At his words, the kids cowered. They sat down meekly.

  "And another thing," said the loudspeaker voice. "Chet Gecko, report to my office immediately, for top-secret, double-Dutch detention. You've been a very naughty gecko."

  I tossed a withering glance at the shape behind the bushes. Then I hotfooted it out the door. Natalie joined me in the hall.

  "Pretty good, huh?" she said. "It's handy having a mockingbird for a partner, isn't it?"

  I shook my head. "I never said you were my partner."

  "You will," she said. "Let's go!"

  We shot down the hall, away from Ms. Click's room. If she caught me, I'd be in detention until I was a grown-up. But I had a chameleon to find and a case to solve.

  And a stinkbug pie to eat.

  Danger may be my business, but dessert is my delight.

  16 Nothing Would Be Finer than to Catch 'Em at the Diner

  Natalie and I raced along the empty halls.

  "So, what's the plan?" she said. "Where's Billy?"

  "The cafeteria!" I said. "Frenchy LaTrine tipped me off. She said Herman was going to get 'sweet' something at the cafeteria. Adding that to what the Rat Sisters said, I know what he's after."

  "What?"

  "It's 'sweet revenge'! He's going to steal something from the cafeteria."

  I panted heavily as we trotted along. Maybe I did need to ease off of those fried termites.... Nah. We rounded the last classroom and reached the cafeteria.

  I tried the doors. Locked. I peered inside. Deserted.

  "Let's check the other side," said Natalie.

  The kitchen door was locked, too. I thought about picking the lock with my tail, but something stopped me. The building was as quiet as a classful of kids who don't want to be called on.

  Something was wrong.

  "Another red herring?" said Natalie.

  "No, thanks, I'd rather have stinkbug pie," I said. "But I won't get to eat it unless we figure out where Billy is, pronto." I leaned against the door.

  "Hey, Chet, I just thought of something," said Natalie. "Herman wants revenge, right?"

  "Right."

  Natalie cocked her head. "Why would he want revenge on the cafeteria? What did it ever do to him?"

  I scratched my head. "You're right. Those cafeteria ladies let him eat as much as he wants."

  "So who does Herman have a grudge against?" she said.

  Suddenly, the lightbulb went on in the fridge of my brain. I tossed my hat up.

  "Natalie, I'm a genius!"

  "Compared to whom?" she said.

  I clapped her on the shoulder. "I figured it out! Herman wants revenge for being kicked off the football team, so he's going to pull something nasty at the game."

  "That's it!" said Natalie. "But how does Billy fit in?"

  "Hmm," I said. I picked up my hat. "Beats me."

  Natalie squawked. "Wait, don't you see? Herman needs a hand. He's blackmailed Billy into helping him." She took off. "Come on, let's go!"

  I jogged along behind her. "Natalie! Where are we going?"

  "I don't know," she said.

  "What do you mean, you don't know?"

  We hustled onto the playground.

  "Wait, we can't just keep running," I said. "We've got to figure out where they are."

  "Well, duh," she said. "So where could they be—inside the gym? Behind the bleachers? In the parking lot?"

  We started across the grass toward the gym. "Slow down and let me think," I said. "Football players ... football players..."

  Suddenly it hit me.

  "Wait, Natalie!" I said. "That funny drawing I found in Billy's desk. It's Herman's plan for wrecking the football game."

  We stopped beside the gym and I fished out the drawing. Now it made sense. Sort of.

  The Xs and Os were the football players. The M was ... I didn't know what the M was. And the Zs were Herman and his friends coming out from under the bleachers, onto the field.

  "Natalie, we've got to get out to the football field. They're attacking the team from underneath the bleachers."

  Natalie just stared at me with an odd expression on her face.

  "Chet," she said. "I have a funny feeling."

  "That's what happens when you eat worms for lunch."

  She shook her head and pointed behind me.

  Something big stepped around the corner. I could tell because the sun went out. I smelled something like funky old sweatsocks dipped in rotten eggs.

  I turned around.

  "Looking for me?" asked Herman the Gila Monster.

  17 He Ain't Heavy, He's My Monster

  I looked up at the Gila monster. He wasn't so big. Just twice as tall as me. He wasn't so wide. Just wider than an ice-cream truck.

  And he seemed friendly. He showed me all his white fangs in a big grin.

  "Looking for me, peeper?" he asked again.

  "Well, actually, I'm looking for Billy." The day was sunny, but my knees knocked together. "Have you seen him?"

  Herman grinned wider. "Billy?" he said. "Search me."

  "Well, if you see him, let me know," I said. "His sister is worried."

  Natalie and I started backing away from Herman. We weren't scared. Just careful.

  "See you later," said Natalie. We backed up some more and bumped into the Rat Sisters.

  "Boss, these guys know too much," said Rizzo.

  "No, we don't," I said. "I flunked my last history quiz."

  They weren't buying it.

  I sighed. "So what are you up to, anyway?"

  The Gila monster grinned again. His mouth was a dentist's dream—if you could fix those crooked teeth without losing several fingers.

  "Heh-heh-heh," he chuckled. "I got something on you, Chet Gecko. But I promise I not tell, if someone keeps her bargain."

  "Enough about me," I said. "Let's talk about you. What are you planning fo
r that football game?"

  Herman scratched his knobby head while a thought crossed his mind. It was a long trip.

  "No dice, Gecko. You will try stop us if I tell."

  "How about a hint?" said Natalie.

  Herman looked down at her. "Silly bird, we have fun with football players," he said. "Kickoff is first surprise. Then our little friends."

  Natalie looked at me. I raised an eyebrow. Of course—that wriggling sack from the dump. That must be the "little friends."

  "When we done, even mascot will wish it never been born." Herman chuckled. "Game will be ruined. Coach will cry."

  "Tell the truth," I said. "Aren't you just a little bit sore that they kicked you off the football team?"

  The Gila monster growled. "Enough smart talk, Gecko. We tie you up now, so you not spoil fun."

  I nodded at Natalie. She dodged one way, I dodged the other. But the Rat Sisters blocked our escape. Herman snatched one of us in each huge fist.

  "Gotcha!" he said. "Now hold stiU, unless you want love bite?..."

  I eyed his poisonous fangs and shook my head.

  Herman grunted. "Bright boy. Bring rope, Rizzo."

  Herman carried us to the swimming pool. He sat on us while he tied our hands and feet. Right then I knew how mashed potatoes feel.

  The Gila monster hung us by our tails from the high dive.

  "Bye-bye, Gecko and bird," he said. "When they find you—too late. I will have my revenge."

  "Hang in there," Nadine snickered.

  They left. We hung upside down, like a couple of bats. My stomach growled and I daydreamed about spicy red fire ants in cream sauce.

  "Well, look on the bright side," said Natalie. "It could be worse."

  I gave her a disgusted look. "How?"

  "He could have turned on the automatic pool chlornator."

  A switch clicked somewhere in the building. A deep humming was followed by the hiss of something bubbling through the pool's filters.

  The smell made my eyes water. Chlorine gas.

  "Thanks a lot, Natalie," I said.

  18 Hanging by a Tail

  We coughed and blinked our watery eyes as the chlorine gas bubbled in the pool below. What a way to go—slowly stunk to death.

  "So, about our partnership," said Natalie. She knew I wasn't going anywhere. "Is this a good time to talk?"

  "All right, all right!" I said. "I guess ... you can be my partner—if we ever get out of here."

  "That's great, Chet! Thanks."

  I grunted. "Don't mention it."

  We watched the pool bubble and the sun crawl lower in the sky out the window. A big clock ticked on the wall, counting down the minutes to Herman's revenge.

  From the football field came a sound like a porcupine sitting on a bagpipe. The band was tuning up. Or maybe that was their first number; I couldn't tell.

  "Hey, Chet," said Natalie. "As long as we're just hanging here, let's finish solving the mystery."

  "Good idea. So ... we know Herman is going to do something with his 'little friends' to disrupt the game." I furrowed my brow. "What else did he say?"

  "The kickoff is the first surprise," said Natalie. "Now, what could be so surprising about a kickoff?"

  I coughed on the chlorine fumes. "Well, they could steal the football."

  "Nah," she said. "Too easy. And the team could get another ball."

  My mind flashed on Herman's visit to the dump.

  "What if they switched the ball?" I said. "Maybe Herman made an exploding ball with stuff they found at the dump."

  Natalie and I looked at each other. "Nah," we said together.

  Herman couldn't make toast without an instruction book. It had to be something simpler.

  "Garbage!" I said. "He filled a football with garbage, and it's going to get all over the team when they kick off."

  "Now we're cooking!" said Natalie. She gave me an upside-down grin. "Chet, you do some serious thinking when the blood runs to your head. You should do your homework upside down."

  "Never mind the compliments," I said. "Let's solve the rest of this. There was an M on Billy's map—M for mashed potatoes? M for muffins?"

  Natalie turned in her ropes. The movement made her swing slowly in circles. "Chet, get your mind off food!"

  "M-m-m-mascot! It's the school mascot. Now, what was it Herman said?"

  Natalie's eyes grew big. "Even the mascot would wish it had never been born. Oh, Chet! Do you think Herman's going to destroy our Golden Gopher?"

  "That ugly statue? I'd help him."

  "Chet!" Natalie huffed.

  "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You're right, Natalie. He's going to grab the statue while everyone's distracted." I twisted my arms against the ropes. "Now if only we could get out of here, we could stop Herman and free Billy."

  "Well, partner." Natalie sighed. "Looks like Herman wins this round."

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. We were hanging from the diving board and choking on chlorine instead of sticking right to Herman's tail.

  Wait a minute!

  "Not so fast," I said. "He may be strong, but he's no smart cookie. Herman forgot one thing."

  "What's that?" she asked.

  "We geckos have a secret weapon."

  And with that, I detached my tail and splashed down into the pool.

  19 Revenge on the Fifty-Yard Line

  Given a choice, most geckos would rather visit the dentist than go swimming. I wriggled out of that overchlornated pool fast as I could, and crawled to Coach Stroganoff's office. I sawed off the ropes on my hands and feet with his letter opener.

  Leave it to Hicky Elementary to have a coach so tough he uses a steak knife as a letter opener.

  "Quick, Chet!" said Natalie. "Get me out of here. The game's about to start."

  She was right. We could hear the marching band playing its last song. Or maybe they were beating it to death. It was hard to tell the difference.

  The team would kick off any minute now. I climbed the high dive and began hacking at the rope holding Natalie's tail.

  "Wait a second," said Natalie. "Don't cut that rope, you bug brain—I'll drown if I fall. Cut the rope around my wings first."

  "Hey, who you calling bug brain? Remember who's holding the knife."

  "Chet, please!"

  Hanging by my feet from the diving board, I could just reach the rope around her wings. I stretched my arm to its fullest and sawed at the rope. When it gave, Natalie stretched her wings suddenly.

  The knife was knocked from my hand and slipped into the stinky pool. Splash!

  "Smooth move!" I said. "Now look what you've done."

  "Hurry, Chet! Get me out of here!"

  She managed to untie her feet using her beak. I fumbled with the remaining knots and finally untied Natalie's tail.

  Natalie fell like a sack of birdseed, then spread her wings, just skimming the pool's surface. She landed poolside.

  With one sad look back, I left my old tail hanging from the diving board. I'd start growing another one in a week or so.

  "Wow, you look weird," said Natalie.

  "This ain't no beauty contest, sister," I said. "Now take me up on your back and let's fly out to that field."

  For once, she didn't argue.

  I hopped onto her back. Natalie flapped heavily out toward the football field. We swerved, almost creaming a tall trash can.

  "Watch out!" I said.

  Her belly feathers scraped a low fence. Coming in under the trees, she almost lost me on a scraggly branch. The field was just ahead.

  "Faster, Natalie!"

  The band made one last blast, like a water buffalo losing its lunch.

  The song was over. The game was about to begin.

  I spotted Herman and his gang under the bleachers.

  "Drop me off here," I told Natalie. "I'll handle their 'little friends.' You get that garbage football."

  "Be careful," she said.

  "You, too, partner."

  Nat
alie grinned and took off. I ran across the end zone.

  A short green referee with bad hair gave our quarterback the football. The referee looked familiar. But I had no time for guessing games.

  "Chester Gecko!" a voice shouted. "Come here this instant!"

  It was Ms. Glick, beside the bleachers. She was not a happy gator.

  I looked back at the field. Our team was kicking off. The center hiked the ball, and the quarterback caught it. He planted the football.

  The kicker ran toward it, and the whole team began running with him. The crowd jumped to its feet and roared.

  "Go, Natalie!" I shouted.

  Natalie flapped her heart out. The kicker, a beefy chipmunk, charged the football. When he booted it, the ball would burst into a million pieces of stinky garbage—all over the team.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

  Flap, flap! went Natalie's wings. The kicker's legs pumped. The crowd chanted, "Gophers! Gophers!" And Ms. Ghck snarled as she strode toward me.

  Just before the chipmunk's foot hit the ball, Natalie swooped low and snatched it from under the quarterback's fingers.

  "Hey!" he said. "That's our ball!"

  Natalie flapped across the field and over the bleachers. From the crowd, hands reached for her and missed. She dumped the ball in a trash can.

  A small fountain of funky garbage—brown bananas, rotten cheese, and rancid mothloaf—shot skyward as the ball burst.

  I looked back at the field...

  And ducked fast as Ms. Glick grabbed at me. I dodged under her leathery arms and beat feet up the sidelines.

  Herman and the short referee were dragging the wriggly sack from under the bleachers. The referee's wig slipped. Then I knew: It was Billy! Helping Herman!

  They were still trying to pull off Part 2 of Herman's prank.

  I ran toward them.

  "Too late, tough guy!" sneered Herman. He stood with feet planted wide and crowed in triumph.

  The Gila monster opened the sack. And out poured a brown stream of giant cockroaches, headed straight for the football field.

 

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