Dad gave me a kiss on top of my head. “Hey there, Sheebs.”
In case you’re wondering why my dad calls me the silly name Sheebs, it’s because when my parents adopted me at two years old, I acted like a queen needing to be waited on foot and foot. That’s because my foster family had done everything for me. And Dad kept saying, “She thinks she’s the Queen of Sheba!” I didn’t need to be waited on foot and foot anymore, but he still called me Sheebs.
“You girls having a fun time?” Dad asked.
“Oh yeah!” Kayla exclaimed. “We’ve already had two Ninja competitions and we painted our toenails and we had an after-school snack.”
Mom rolled her eyes and mumbled something about our after-school snack.
“Then I barfed,” Emily said.
“Oh no,” Dad said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I feel great!” said Emily.
“You should have seen it, Dad!” I said.
“She barfed a rainbow that smelled like chocolate-dipped Fruit Loops!”
“Yes, it was lovely,” Mom muttered.
Dad covered his mouth and did some gagging before leaving the kitchen.
When we all sat down to dinner together the doorbell rang. And it was Grandma!
She walked in all sadly and slumped down at the kitchen table with us. “Smitty is still missing, and I just don’t know what to do.”
“Did you check under your coffee table?” Emily asked, and I thought that was a very good question. I hadn’t even once thought to look under Grandma’s coffee table.
“Yes, honey,” Grandma said. “He’s not there.”
“Did you check under the bed?” Kayla asked. Wow. Maybe Emily and Kayla should’ve been the private investigators.
“Yes, dear,” Grandma said.
“Did you check under the fridge?” Emily asked, and I decided maybe she wouldn’t make a very good private investigator after all.
Grandma sighed. “I don’t think Smitty would fit under there, but good thinking.”
“Hey, you know what!” I said. “We should put up some missing dog posters tomorrow!”
Everyone at the table nodded. “That’s a great idea, Sheebs,” Dad said.
He should’ve known by now that I was chock-full of great ideas. “By the way,” I said. “Emily’s grandpa says his hen droids are acting up. Do you think he has some kind of chicken robots?”
Grandma snorted a little and covered her mouth with her hand. “You mean hemorrhoids, honey?”
“Oh yeah!” Emily said. “That’s it! That’s what my grandpa has!”
But we never did find out exactly what they were because Dad choked on his macaroni and cheese and Mom giggled, and Grandma just said, “The bane of my existence,” which I think means they’re really bad, so I hoped Sujata didn’t have them after all.
And I was really disappointed to find out that Emily’s grandpa didn’t actually have any robot chickens.
Chapter 12
All Worn Out
Luckily, we had lots of pictures of Smitty to choose from, and Dad designed a fantastic poster. We printed about a hundred of those bad boys, then we all went out that morning after breakfast (frozen waffles because Mom is the coolest!) to put them up around Grandma’s neighborhood. We even put one on the school, which made me feel kind of important. I could just imagine everyone walking in and seeing the poster, and I would be like, “Yes, I know this famous missing dog.”
I couldn’t reach high enough to staple the posters to the poles and walls with my toes, so Mom let me dictate where they would go. I think I’m a very good dictator, and Mom and Dad agree. Emily and Kayla weren’t as impressed with my dictating skills and insisted on putting the posters where they wanted.
A couple of times, we had to stop to give Grandma hugs because she started sniffling a bit. You see, Smitty was her best friend, and so we just had to find him because a great-grandma without a best friend was simply the saddest thing I’d ever heard of.
After all one hundred posters were hung, Kayla and Emily went home. That night dinner felt very sad without Grandma and Emily and Kayla there. And of course Mom didn’t make anything as special as boxed macaroni and cheese—just stewed pot roast with lots of vegetables and baked rolls and a side salad. Side salads were only okay as long as I could pour ranch dressing on them—just like half a bottle.
We all chewed our pot roast more sadly than we ever had before. “What if we don’t find him?” I asked.
Dad reached over and squeezed my shoulder, and I noticed he had some pot roast gravy on his chin, but I felt too sad to even laugh about it. “Don’t give up hope, Sheebs. Hey, put that amazing brain of many brain cells to work. What should we do next?”
But my brain of many brain cells just fell back in my chair. “I think they’re all worn out,” I mumbled.
“Never!” Dad said. “They just need a good rest. I bet you girls didn’t sleep as much as you should’ve last night.”
“I heard them up giggling at nearly midnight,” said Mom, giving me the stink eye.
“We wanted to see if we could stay up all night long,” I said.
“And did you?” asked Dad.
“No,” I said. “We conked out.” And I felt like I was about to conk out right then and there at the table. And I almost did! And Mom told me to get my butt to bed. So I did. And then they tucked me in and said, “Good night, sweet Sheebs,” which always made me feel warm and fuzzy. I would think about Smitty tomorrow.
Chapter 13
Sves the Swedish Dognapper
I went back to Grandma’s the next day after church because it was Sunday. And Dad was right. My brain cells felt good and rested after sleeping for about a hundred hours straight.
Mom dropped me off so she could go grocery shopping, and Grandma and I sat on the couch. I broke out my magnifying glass and cleared my throat. “We’ve looked outside,” I said. “But we haven’t really looked inside yet.”
Grandma sighed. “I know he’s not in here, sweetie.”
“Of course I know that, Grandma! I just mean maybe there are some clues inside about where Smitty might have gone.”
“If you think so,” said Grandma.
“First we should look in the freezer,” I said. So we did. I saw there was mint chip in there and I ate a bowl, and Grandma got some good Grandma points for that.
Now that my brain cells were adequately fed, I told Grandma to take my notebook, and I picked up the magnifying glass between my chin and shoulder and headed toward Grandma’s bedroom. I dropped the magnifying glass on the floor, then held it between my toes and studied the carpet. It was pretty dirty.
“Dirty carpet,” I told Grandma. “Please write that down.”
Grandma frowned, but when I gave her a serious look, she started writing in my notebook. “I just don’t know why that would be helpful,” she mumbled.
“You don’t know what might be helpful until you find it.” I looked under Grandma’s bed and saw a ball under there. I kicked it out. “What’s this? Is this Smitty’s toy?”
Grandma shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
It had letters on it. “S-V-E-S,” I said. “Who’s Sves? He sounds Swedish.” I waited for Grandma to look impressed that I said such a smart thing, but she just looked puzzled. “Like a Swedish artist,” I added. “Or a Swedish teacher. Or a Swedish handyman.”
“I don’t know any Swedish people,” Grandma said.
“I think this guy Sves might be the clue to finding out where Smitty is. Like maybe he dognapped him.” I thought a moment. “Sves the Swedish Dognapper,” I whispered to myself. It sounded about right. This Sves could have lured Smitty with this ball, then grabbed him, dropping the ball at the same time.
“I don’t know, honey,” Grandma said. “Maybe it means something else.”
But I really liked my new hypothesis. And lucky for me, old people still had phone books. “Grandma, where’s that giant phone book of yours that everyone else throws in the recy
cling except you?”
We went to the phone book. The names were in order of last name, so I tried to find someone with the last name of Sves. I remembered how things are alphabetized from school. I finally found the name of Svart and laughed, but Grandma didn’t get the joke. I ran my toe down the listings. “Sverdbeev, Sverdlove.” I snickered. These names were awesome. My last name seemed really boring all of a sudden. “Sverkos, Sverner, Svesko, Svetan.” I frowned. “Oh no. I passed it. And there was no Sves. And I can’t possibly read all the first names to find him.”
“Maybe he’s just not in there,” Grandma said.
But I knew this Sves was lurking around somewhere. Probably close, too. Just waiting to jump out at us from behind any corner. My eyes darted around the trailer. You won’t get the better of me, Sves, I thought. Oh no, you won’t!
Chapter 14
Acronyms and Other Revelations
I kept thinking about Sves while I was at school the next day—did he have a skinny mustache that curled at the ends? I could see him twisting his pointy mustache in evil ways while he lured Smitty out of the house with that ball, cackling the whole time. I told Mom my hypothesis, and she said maybe we should cut down on the Scooby-Doo, but I had no idea what that had to do with Sves and his evil mustache.
I was thinking about Sves so hard that when my teacher called on me, I didn’t know what she was even talking about. “Please repeat your question,” I said.
“Aven,” she said. “I asked what seven times nine is.” She pointed at the problem on the board.
“How can you expect me to think about times tables when an evil dude named Sves has dognapped Smitty?” I cried, slumping down at my desk.
She looked very confused. “Sves?”
“Yes. We saw his name printed on the ball he dropped when he stole Smitty. We’re pretty certain he used the ball to lure Smitty, just like you’d use a worm to lure a big old bluegill.”
She smiled. “How do you spell that?”
“S-V-E-S of course.” Sheesh. You’d think teachers would know how to spell simple words like Sves.
“You mean like ‘Sunrise View Elementary School?’” she asked.
How could she not know that S-V-E-S did not spell that? First of all, it was way too short. “No. That would be spelled S-U-N-R-I-S-E-V—”
“Aven,” she interrupted me. “I know how to spell the school name. I’m saying that S-V-E-S could be an acronym for our school.”
“What’s an acronym?”
Just then, that new girl, Sujata, raised her hand. “It’s the first letter of each word in a name,” she said softly.
“Good, Sujata,” Ms. Luna said. Then she wrote the word on the board. “It’s when you take the first letter of each word in a name and put them together.”
“Oh, I get it,” I said. “A.L.G. is my acronym.”
“Yes,” said Ms. Luna. “Except we call those initials.”
“Because English is tricky,” I said.
Ms. Luna laughed. “Yes, it is sometimes,” she said. “Here is another example of an acronym.” She wrote U.S.A. on the board. “This is the acronym for the United States of America.”
“But shouldn’t it be T.U.S.O.A.?” I asked.
“Well,” she said, rubbing at her forehead, leaving a big chalk splotch on it. “Sometimes we leave out the unimportant words.”
I shrugged. “I think ‘the’ is a pretty important word, if you know what I mean. I would never say, ‘I need to go bathroom.’ Because then I would sound like a big baby.”
“Anyway,” she sighed. “S.V.E.S. is the acronym for our school. And we write that on a lot of things. And doesn’t your grandma live right up the street?”
I stared at her. “What are you saying exactly?”
“I’m saying, Aven, that the ball probably came from the school and not from some dognapper named Sves.”
I jumped up so quickly that I knocked my chair over. “Oh my gosh! Someone from our school dognapped Smitty!”
Ms. Luna did not think that anyone from the school had dognapped Smitty. “But what about all the crime around here lately?” I said. “This school is riddled with crime!”
I thought about Ms. Luna’s missing lunch and brand-new lunch bag. I thought about the mess in the cafeteria. I thought about the big cake disaster. And that ball—SVES. The paw prints and path of poop leading so far across the field behind Grandma’s trailer. And, of course, Smitty loved to eat cake, bread, and bagged lunches. I felt like some new hypothesis was forming in my mind, but I couldn’t quite put my toe on it.
I slipped off my glittery ballet flat and dug around in my bag with my foot until I found my magnifying glass and recording pen. Good thing I’d brought them today. I’d had a feeling I might need them.
“Ms. Luna,” I said politely. “Can we take a class trip to the alleged teacher’s lounge?”
“What for, Aven?”
I held up the magnifying glass in my toes. “Clues about the food thief.”
“Students really aren’t allowed in there.”
“But this could be the big break I’ve been waiting for,” I said.
Ms. Luna sighed. “How about if I check in there later during lunch?”
“But you’re not a highly trained private investigator,” I said.
“Oh, I’m very good at observation,” said Ms. Luna. “If there’s anything in there, I’ll find it.”
But I had my doubts. Ms. Luna didn’t even see Robert picking his nose and flicking his boogers at Kayla right as she was bragging about her observational skills!
Chapter 15
Group Work
“Time for history,” Ms. Luna announced. “Let’s get to work on our new group projects. We’re going to break up into groups of five, and each group is going to pick a country for a report and presentation.”
And can you believe it? I got to be in a group with Emily and Kayla! And that new girl, Sujata, joined us. And then Ms. Luna said the worst thing ever when she told us, “I’m sure you girls won’t mind Robert joining your group.”
I absolutely did mind, but I didn’t say so because Mom always told me I didn’t have to say absolutely everything that went on in my head. The problem was it was just so hard to keep it stuffed in there.
Everyone broke up into groups. The moment we sat down together in one corner of the room, Robert was already being a problem by looking at me and making toad noises. I’d have liked to shake my fist at him if I’d had one. Shaking your clenched foot at someone did not send the same message.
“So what country should we pick?” I asked because I am a natural-born leader, as Mom and Dad always said.
“How about Kansas?” Emily said.
“Emily, that’s not even a country,” I told her.
“Yeah, it’s a city, dumb toad!” Robert said.
“It’s a state,” I corrected him.
“No, it’s Kansas City,” Robert said.
“Kansas City is a city,” I said. “Kansas is a state.”
Everyone looked confused already.
“How about India?” Sujata said, so softy we could barely hear her.
Robert rolled his eyes. “I’ve never even heard of Innie. Sounds like a belly button.”
“She said India!” I told him, but I didn’t add the words “stupid face” like I wanted to. I just kept that all stuffed inside my head where it belonged.
“I know a lot about India,” said Sujata in her quiet voice. “My grandparents lived there. And we could make Indian food to bring in for everyone when we do our presentation.”
“Awesome,” I said. This Sujata was really smart. And what she said got me thinking about food because I was always hungry at school. Smitty was always hungry, too. And the food thief seemed awfully hungry to steal so much food. And—
“I don’t want to do India!” Robert cried, right as I was on the brink of a major revelation. I wanted to scream because I seriously could not work (or think!) with this boy. Then our whole grou
p erupted into shouting because of Robert.
Ms. Luna stomped over to our group. “What in the world is going on here?” she asked.
We all pointed at Robert.
“Out in the hallway now,” Ms. Luna said. When we got out there, she peeked next door and asked the aide to come watch over her class. Our class shared an aide with the class next door, but we hardly ever saw the aide because that class next door must have been a real handful.
Once the aide was inside, Ms. Luna closed the door and stared down at us, arms crossed. “Now just what is the problem?”
I was clearly the leader of the group, so I spoke first. “We all want to do our project on India, but Robert won’t agree, and this is all very frustrating because what I really want to do is go investigate the alleged teacher’s lounge and not work on this project.”
Ms. Luna tapped her foot. “Aven, I already told you I’ll look in there later.”
“But I need to look now! Right now!” I said.
“Why?”
“Because the evidence could be disappearing every single second we wait!”
“What evidence?” asked Ms. Luna.
“Food thief evidence!” I said.
Ms. Luna rubbed her forehead. She was doing that a lot today. “Okay, fine,” she finally said. “If we take a quick trip to the teacher’s lounge, will you let this go?”
I smiled and nodded. “I just need my magnifying glass and special spy pen.”
Chapter 16
Strawberry Paw Print
Ms. Luna quietly got my magnifying glass and special pen from my desk, and the five of us made our way to the alleged teacher’s lounge while the rest of the class worked on their projects. Suckers.
Aven Green Sleuthing Machine Page 3