Andy Russell, NOT Wanted by the Police

by David A. Adler

  When Tamika finished her work, Andy told her about all his decisions.

  “You’re right about the police, but I don’t think you’ll get Rachel to hold the gerbils.”

  Andy was sure he would.

  Chapter 12

  There’s Someone in There

  Andy went into Rachel’s room and told her, “There’s a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow. We’ve got to pack up the raisins and cheese. I’ve got to get Dad’s old toolbox ready to take the gerbils to school. And you’ve got to practice handling the gerbils.”

  “I’ve got to what?”

  “You don’t want your teacher and all your friends to see that you’re afraid of a few tiny animals, do you? Your teacher may even think that you didn’t do the experiment, that I did everything.”

  Rachel looked at her hands.

  “Let’s go,” Andy said. “It will be fun.”

  “It will be fun for you,” Rachel said as she got up, “but not for me.”

  It sure will be fun, Andy thought as Tamika and Rachel followed him into the basement.

  When they were by the tank with the labeled gerbils, Andy told Rachel, “It’s important to talk to them, so they get to know your voice.”

  Rachel looked at Tamika, who nodded and told her Andy was right.

  “But what do I say to them?” Rachel asked.

  “Introduce yourself,” Tamika said. “Tell them about yourself. Tell them about school.”

  Rachel leaned over the top of the tank. “Hello. I’m Rachel Russell,” she said. “I’m in the sixth grade, and I’m interested in literature and history.”

  Rachel turned to Andy and Tamika and said, “I feel silly and, anyway, I don’t think they’re listening.”

  “They hear the sound of your voice,” Andy told her. “After they get used to it, you can practice holding them.”

  “I’d rather talk to them.”

  Rachel told the gerbils about her favorite author, Mark Twain, and about his books. She told them she hoped to go to college and become a high school English teacher. She told the gerbils about her teachers and her homework and about how her mom was pregnant.

  “I think they’ve heard enough,” Andy said. “I know I have.”

  Andy reached into the tank and took out Gray. “To a gerbil,” Andy said, “your hands are very big, so you must move them slowly. Don’t scare Gray.”

  Tamika showed Rachel how to hold her hands.

  “It’s a long drop to the floor, so you have to hold Gray against your body,” Andy said, “so if it gets scared and jumps, it will land on you and not on the floor.”

  “Land on me! I’m not doing this.”

  “You’re a puzzle to me, a real jigsaw,” Andy told his sister. “When the doctor holds up a big needle and points it at your arm, you don’t flinch. The doctor says it won’t hurt, and you know it will. And now you’re scared of a tiny gerbil? Look at Gray.”

  Rachel looked at the gerbil moving around in Andy’s hands.

  “Look how small a gerbil is. To Gray you’re King Kong,” Andy said. Then he corrected himself. “No, you’re Queen Kong.”

  Andy moved his cupped hands toward Rachel’s cupped hands. Rachel clenched her teeth, closed her eyes, and waited.

  “You can do this,” Tamika told Rachel.

  Gray looked up at Andy. Then it looked at Rachel. Gray twitched its nose and ran into Rachel’s hands.

  “It tickles,” Rachel said.

  Rachel opened her eyes and looked at Gray. She watched it run from her hands to Andy’s and then back again into hers.

  “What if it has to—you know?” Rachel asked.

  “If it has to ‘you know,’ it you knows. Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Take it back,” Rachel said. “NOW!”

  Andy took Gray back. He returned the gerbil to its tank and took out Purple. He held it gently and taught Rachel how to pet a gerbil.

  Ding! Ding!

  “That’s the door,” Rachel said. “I have to go answer it.”

  “Saved by the ding-ding,” Andy said, “saved by the bell.”

  Rachel ran up the basement stairs. Andy put Purple back in the tank. Tamika put the screen on top. Then they went upstairs, too. Rachel was by the open front door. She was holding a box wrapped in brown paper.

  “It’s for you,” Rachel told Tamika. “It’s from Ecuador.”

  Tamika took the package from Rachel. It was almost completely covered with tape.

  “It’s from the Perlmans,” Tamika said. “It must be the surprise. I wonder what it is.”

  The delivery truck was still outside. Then Andy saw the driver, returning to the truck from next door. He had delivered a package to the Perlmans.

  Tamika tried to tear the package open but couldn’t. “I’ll need scissors to open this,” she said.

  “I wonder who would send something to the Perlmans,” Andy said. “They won’t be home for months.” He watched the delivery truck drive off. “We can’t leave a package by their front door. We have to go over there.”

  Reluctantly Tamika put the package on the small table by the front door. She and Rachel followed Andy outside. They went to the Perlmans’. There was no package at the Perlmans’ house.

  “Maybe the man rang the bell,” Tamika said, “and when no one answered, he took it back into his truck.”

  “No,” Rachel told her. “If he did that, there would be a note. And there is no note.”

  “There’s someone in there,” Andy whispered. “I hear him moving.”

  Bang!

  There was a loud noise from inside the house.

  Andy, Tamika, and Rachel jumped away from the door. They raced across the driveway to their own front lawn.

  “It sounded to me like something dropped,” Tamika said.

  “Maybe something dropped,” Andy said, “or maybe that was a gunshot!”

  They waited, watched, and listened. When nothing seemed to be happening at the Perlmans’ house, Tamika whispered, “What do we do now?”

  “We can go over there and knock on the door,” Rachel said, “or we can call the police.”

  Tamika looked next door. Then she looked at Andy and said, “No. I’m afraid to knock on the door. I’m afraid someone might answer it.”

  “And we can’t call the police again,” Andy said. “I know I can’t!”

  He thought for a moment. Then he said, “I know what we can do. I know just what we can do—and we should have done it a long time ago.”

  Chapter 13

  Elke Bell

  Andy hurried into his house. Tamika and Rachel followed him. He went to the kitchen and picked up the telephone.

  “What are you doing?” Tamika asked.

  Andy pressed the buttons on the phone.

  “I thought you couldn’t call the police again,” Rachel said.

  “Hello,” a woman on the other end of the line said.

  Andy held his hand to his mouth. He was too afraid to talk.

  “Who is this? Who are you? You called me, remember? And if you don’t have anything to say, then you shouldn’t have called me. Good-bye and have a nice day.”

  “There’s someone there,” Andy told Tamika and Rachel. “There’s someone in the Perlmans’ house! It’s a woman.”

  Andy told Rachel, “Make sure our front door is locked.” Then he told Tamika, “Look out the window. Let me know if anyone is coming over here.”

  When Rachel had checked the door and Tamika was by the window, Andy pressed the telephone buttons again. The same woman answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello. This is Andy Russell. I live next door, and the Perlmans asked us to watch their house. Now, I want to know what you’re doing in there.”

  “The telephone keeps ringing and I keep answering it. That’s what I’m doing. And right now I’m talking to you.”

  “Who is that? Who are you talking to?” Tamika asked. She left the window.

  Andy gave Tamika the telephone. “I nee
d to know who you are,” Tamika said, “and what you’re doing in the Perlmans’ house.”

  “I’m Lisa Karen Bell, but people call me L. K. Those are my initials, but it’s also a name, Elke, so you can call me that—Elke Bell, that’s me.”

  “OK, so that’s you,” Tamika said. “But what are you doing in the Perlmans’ house?”

  “I’m an artist and I met Miriam in Ecuador. She said she wrote to you. She said you would be happy to meet someone she met on her trip.”

  “She said she had a surprise for us. I thought it would be a souvenir.”

  “Well, I’m not a souvenir—I’m an artist, and I know I should have come over to introduce myself. Miriam told me to, but I was so busy with my artwork and things.”

  Tamika put her hand over the receiver. “It’s Miriam’s friend,” she whispered to Andy and Rachel. “She’s an artist.”

  “Hey, do you like gumdrops?” Elke Bell asked. “I bought a big box and ate all the orange ones. Those are the best. If you want the other flavors, you can have them all.”

  “She doesn’t stop talking,” Tamika whispered, and handed the telephone back to Andy.

  “When we saw the lights go on next door, we were really scared,” Andy said, but Elke Bell didn’t seem to hear what he was saying. She just kept talking.

  Andy gave the telephone to Rachel.

  “You know what?” Elke Bell said. “You should come over and see the great images and forms I’ve made. You really should.”

  The front door opened. Mr. and Mrs. Russell were home.

  Andy told them about Elke Bell.

  “Well, I’m glad it’s not a thief,” Mrs. Russell said.

  Andy and Tamika helped Mr. and Mrs. Russell carry in the groceries. Rachel put the telephone receiver on the kitchen counter and went to help, too.

  There were several more bags in the car. Mr. and Mrs. Russell waited by the front door as the children brought them in. Then they all carried the groceries to the kitchen.

  “You forgot to hang up the telephone,” Mr. Russell said, and handed it to Andy. Elke Bell was still talking. “It’s an inverted vase,” she said, “with flowers on the outside.”

  Then Andy interrupted her. “Do you know, because of you, I called the police?”

  “You did?” Elke Bell asked.

  “They think I’m a big pest,” Andy said.

  “Am I in trouble?” Elke Bell asked. “Did I do something wrong? Some of my art is out there! Do you know what I mean? It’s different. But that’s not a crime, is it?”

  “No. You’re not in trouble. But I might be. I told the police the Perlmans were away and that I thought someone broke into the house. They said they would keep an eye on it. Now I have to tell them about you.”

  Andy gave the telephone to his mother. He got the telephone book and looked up the police precinct number.

  Elke Bell told Mrs. Russell, “A lot of people love my work. It’s moody stuff, expressive.”

  “Does she ever stop talking?” Mrs. Russell whispered to Andy. She listened for a while and then told Elke Bell, “I have to say good-bye now. We need to make another call.”

  Mrs. Russell waited and listened, but Elke didn’t stop talking.

  “Good-bye,” Mrs. Russell said again, and hung up the telephone.

  Then Mr. Russell called the police and told them about Elke Bell. He listened for a moment and then thanked the police officer.

  “Was he mad?” Andy asked.

  “No. He said you did the right thing when you called him. He said he wishes everyone who saw something suspicious going on would call.”

  “He said that?”

  Mr. Russell nodded.

  “But we just did the wrong thing with Miriam Perlman’s friend,” Mrs. Russell said. “Elke Bell is all alone. We should invite her over for dinner.”

  Mrs. Russell tried to call her, but the Perlmans’ telephone line was busy. “Let’s go over there,” she said. “We’ll knock on her door and invite her.”

  Andy, Tamika, and Rachel followed Mr. and Mrs. Russell outside. They all went to the Perlmans’ house, and Mr. Russell knocked on the door.

  They waited. A woman wearing a paintsplattered, bright orange jumpsuit opened the door. She was holding a portable telephone.

  “Hello,” Mrs. Russell said. “We live next door, and we’d like to invite you to have dinner with us tonight.”

  Elke Bell looked at the telephone she was holding. Then she looked at all the Russells and Tamika.

  “Aren’t I talking to you on the telephone?” she asked. “Hello,” Elke Bell said into the telephone receiver. “Hello.”

  No one responded.

  “This is all very strange,” Elke Bell said. She pressed a button on the telephone and put it in the front pocket of her jumpsuit.

  Andy looked at the woman standing in front of him in the orange paint-splattered jumpsuit. He listened to her talk and talk, and he thought, You’re the one who’s strange. But he didn’t say it.

  “We live next door,” Mrs. Russell said again, “and we would like you to have dinner with us.”

  “And I know what you like to eat,” Andy said. “You like Oat Bran Toasties.”

  “Yes! Yes! I love those little squares of oat.”

  Mrs. Russell smiled. “We don’t have Toasties,” she said, “but hopefully we’ll have something you like.”

  “Now, if you’ll please excuse us,” Mr. Russell said, “we have to unpack the groceries. And we have to make dinner.”

  “But I want to show you my work, the images and forms I’ve been creating.”

  “Why don’t you show the children?” Mr. Russell suggested. “And we’ll come by after dinner.”

  “Wait! Wait!” Elke Bell said as Mr. and Mrs. Russell started to leave. “My gallery just sent me a whole package of brochures with pictures of my work. Here, take one.”

  There was a large package next to the front door. Elke Bell took a brochure from it and gave it to Mrs. Russell.

  “Thank you,” Mrs. Russell said. She looked at the pictures in the brochure and said, “Your work looks very... interesting.”

  Andy’s parents left. Then Elke Bell led the children downstairs, to the Perlmans’ cellar. The floor of one comer of the cellar was covered with paint-splattered sheets. There was a large floodlight set in the middle of the sheets.

  “Daytime!” Elke Bell called out, and turned on the light.

  Andy, Tamika, and Rachel shielded their eyes from the bright light.

  There were just three small windows in the cellar, all on the wall on the side of the house not facing the Russells’ house. That’s why we didn’t see all this light, Andy thought.

  There was a large white box in the corner of the cellar. Set on top of it was an orange boot. A purple stocking was draped over the toe of the boot.

  Mom said her stuff is interesting, Andy thought. To me, it looks weird.

  “Follow me,” Elke Bell told the children, “and lose yourselves in art.”

  Andy, Tamika, and Rachel stepped onto the sheets and approached the paintings. Some of the paint on the sheets was still wet. Andy looked down. There was orange paint on his sneakers.

  Elke Bell pointed to the boot and said, “This is my ode to the foot, to the appendage that moves us all.” She held up a collage and told the children, “And these are the forms, the shapes of life. They merge and swim together in one ocean. Dive in!”

  Elke Bell talked on and on about her art, what it all meant to her. Then she asked Andy, Tamika, and Rachel what they thought.

  Tamika and Rachel both said they liked it. Andy said he liked the colors she’d used. “I don’t really understand everything you told us about your art,” Andy added, “but I’m only in the fourth grade. I don’t have to understand everything.”

  Elke Bell started to explain her art all over again when her jumpsuit rang.

  RING!

  “Oh my,” Elke Bell said. “That tickles.”

  RING!

>   “Oh my,” Elke Bell said again. She laughed as she took the telephone out of the front pocket of her jumpsuit.

  RING!

  “Hello. It’s me. Elke Bell. Thank you for calling.” She listened for a moment. “That’s so nice,” she said. “We’ll be right over.”

  Elke Bell pressed a button on the telephone and returned it to the pocket of her jumpsuit.

  “That was your father,” she said. “It’s time to eat.”

  When they left the house, Elke Bell locked the front door. “I have to be very careful here,” she whispered to the children. “I hear strange noises at night. There may be a prowler.”

  No, that’s me, Andy thought.

  Before dinner Andy threw out his lunch-bag list of clues.

  This case is solved, he told himself. Detective Andy Russell does it again!

  At dinner Elke Bell raised her hands, wiggled her fingers, and told the Russells and Tamika, “New places give me new energy. That’s why I travel, why I go from one place to the next, with just my backpack and a few boxes of art supplies. I paint and sculpt until the energy is gone. Then I send the images I’ve created to the gallery that sells my work.”

  Andy watched and listened as Elke Bell moved her hands, wiggled her fingers, and talked and talked. Andy wondered what sort of energy she was getting from the dining room. He wiggled his fingers under the table to see if that would give him some of the room’s energy. It didn’t. It just made his fingers tired.

  “Every few months I send the gallery large packages of art.”

  “Packages?” Andy said. “Mrs. Perlman sent us a package, and we haven’t opened it.”

  Andy excused himself and hurried to the front entryway. He took the package off the table and brought it to the dining room. “It’s addressed to you,” he said, and gave it to Tamika.

  Tamika tried again to open it but couldn’t. Mr. Russell took it and pulled at the tape. The package popped open and several carved wooden animals fell out.

  “A bear,” Andy said as he picked up one of the animals.

  “There’s a lion, tiger, giraffe, monkey, walrus, elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and bison,” Tamika said as she set them all around her dinner plate.