She backed away. Katie looked furious.
“Oh, hi, Lily,” said Katie, sounding nicer than she looked. “We were just playing water polo.”
“Getting in the way of people playing water polo, more like it!” said one of the boys, and they all laughed and shouted, “Huzzah!”
“Oh …,” said Lily. “There’s a—you know—there’s a mystery … With the kidnapping and … I thought maybe you’d want to come with me. Sometime this afternoon, not now.”
Katie smiled. “Sure, Lily. Maybe later.” She looked around at her new friends and then asked Lily, without much force, “Maybe you want to come swimming?”
“No,” said Lily, her hair falling over her eyes.
Everyone waited awkwardly for a minute. Some of the water polo guys treaded water.
Lily didn’t want to take up too much of Katie’s time, since Katie looked busy on the inflatable cushion, so she asked, “Have you, um, seen Jasper?”
“No,” said Katie. “He’s probably goofing off somewhere.”
“Okay,” said Lily. “See you later. I’ll be … whenever you’re done … I’ll be in our room.” She corrected herself, “Not in. I guess we can’t go in. I’ll be outside our room in the hallway. Waiting. Okay?”
Suddenly one of the water polo boys shouted, “Victory goes to the sharkiest!” and they all raised their brown arms and barked like sea dogs.
Lily turned and walked quickly back inside the hotel.
She didn’t want to be stared at like that any longer than was absolutely necessary.
Behind her, Katie floated on her raft, watching Lily go. Katie already knew that a priceless necklace had been stolen, of course; she had heard the thief at work. She wanted to tell Lily her clues, but doing that would mean she would probably end up having to help find the burglar, and that was the last thing Katie wanted to do at that moment.
She felt a little sick and empty, though, watching Lily retreat. Even as she turned her head and put on a quick smile for the Cutesy Dell Twins, Katie was anxiously planning for dinner, when, she promised herself, she would make it all up to Lily. Once Jasper got back, she would include him and Lily in the little dinner party with the Twins. They would dress up for the restaurant and sit there like grown-ups around a table, and Lily wouldn’t embarrass her.
Katie vowed to herself that Lily would have a good time, and would like the Twins, and would forgive her for what had just happened. Then Katie would tell Lily and Jasper about what she’d heard that afternoon—the burglar’s bungling— and Jasper and Lily would have all sorts of startling ideas about things like motive, opportunity, and means. They would argue about who could be the guilty party while Jasper balanced the forks and knives on top of each other, which he always did absentmindedly when he was excited by the conversation. The Twins would watch the three of them talk it all through and would be impressed that Katie and her friends were so used to adventure. And everything would be fine again.
Katie promised herself this as she floated on her raft with the noise of water polo sloshing around her. The boys crowed. The Twins squealed. The ball slapped the water. Katie floated like an island, touching no one, suspended in blue.
And what, meanwhile, was happening with Jasper?
Not much, in a sense—because he was tied to a chair and couldn’t move. But, my friends, let’s look a little closer.
There—at the microscopic level—in Jasper Dash’s pure and noble bloodstream—now clogged with histamines and immunoglobulin E*—down at the level where antibodies sounded the alarm at the invasion of foreign microbes— there, we see the action unfolding like the most furious aeroplane dogfight you’ve ever seen in a World War II newsreel: machine guns rattling, riddling wings with bullets—wings tipping toward the earth—tumbling—torn engines spewing smoke into the sky! Parachutists bailing! Yes, indeed!
the allergen enter the blood!
as Jasper’s hypersensitive plasma cells secrete immunoglobulin E!
as squadrons of immunoglobulin E molecules mob Jasper’s dizzy mast cells—provoking the release of bloating histamines!
I would like to take a moment to point out to those Hollywood actionmongers in their double-breasted suits and their hip, sticky-uppy hairdos—those Sunset Boulevard “dream weavers” with their endless car chases, relentless gunplay, Ninja kicks, shattering windows, bombings, bazookas, back-alley fisticuffs, flipping cop cars, and sultry ballads to the helicopter—I would like to point out to you, sirs, that here we have a scene of incredible suspense and terror (I, for one, have not been able to go to the bathroom for the two days it has taken me to write this page) that consists entirely of some guy lying absolutely still in a pretty mountain pasture for seven hours.
What do you say to that, my Tinseltown friends?
Hm?
* Are you trying to tell me that a paragraph that uses phrases like “histamines and immunoglobulin E” might not be very, um, interesting}
But, um, of course, that really isn’t what Jasper himself was thinking about.
Jasper himself was not excited about his entertainment potential.
He was, instead, lying, head upside down, on the edge of a cliff, trying not to twitch. From the northern dome of his skull, the slow ice age had begun to creep in earnest. The mucus had begun to harden in ridges and clots. He could feel the snot form stalactites and stalagmites, blocking passages while his tiny breaths wandered like lost spelunkers through nasal caverns. His every breath clambered and squelched through his nostrils.
Finally, he started gagging. One nostril was entirely clogged. Corked. Only a tiny crack admitted air to the other nostril. He could hardly breathe. He was beginning to panic.
Jasper turned his head gradually … gradually …
He pressed his nose against the granite, shutting his one free nostril.
With all passages blocked, he tried desperately to blow the clog out of his other nostril.
The snake, happily dreaming of ancient religions where snakes were hand-fed hard-boiled eggs by nuns in chain mail, sighed, licked its thin lips, and shifted in the warm sun on Jasper’s back.
Trembling, Jasper forced air behind the plug. He closed his eyes. Veins stood out on his forehead.
Nothing. The snot would not budge.
He relaxed. He opened his eyes.
His breath whined—a tiny trickle—through the one remaining nostril.
Upside down, he looked across the chasm he lay next to. On the other side of it, there was a meadow full of Queen Anne’s lace.
He was not allergic in the slightest to Queen Anne’s lace.
So Jasper Dash, Boy Technonaut, lay there staring longingly at the Queen Anne’s lace, and thinking how sweet life would be, how perfect in almost every detail, if he could only be bound and gagged with a deadly snake sleeping on him over in that meadow.
That, he thought, would make him the happiest boy alive.
Which goes to show you that everything is relative.
“I cannot imagine being anywhere worse than this buffet,” said one of the Cutesy Dell Twins to Katie.
“No way,” Katie agreed.
“Maybe being stuck in some stupid cave,” said the other Twin, who then shivered, momentarily bewildered by a stray image in her brain that was actually from a previous life two thousand years before, in which she and her sister had been priestesses and had had to dress in weird metal clothes and hand-feed eggs to serpents.
Katie, the Cutesy Dell Twins, and Lily sat at a table in the grand dining hall of the hotel. Around them, men were dressed in black bow ties and starched collars, and women wore glittering dresses. Some ladies wore peacock feathers in their head scarves. There was talking and champagne. A jazz band—Dix Wickerbasket and His Amazing Dix-Chords—played old dance tunes.
Katie was anxious for several reasons. She still hadn’t told Lily that she’d actually heard the theft of Mrs. Mandrake’s necklace. Also, she really wanted the Cutesy Dell Twins to like Lily and Jasper. But Li
ly was acting very shy, and Jasper hadn’t come back for dinner.
Outside the windows it was still light, even though it was eight o’clock in the evening. The sun was just starting to go down over the mountains. It glittered on the rivers and highways far, far beneath them.
“So you spent the day with Eddie Wax?” said one of the Cutesy Dell Twins to Lily.
“Yes,” she said. She didn’t want to say any more.
“What did you think of him?”
Katie watched Lily’s face. She could tell Lily wanted to say the right thing—but that Lily also didn’t want to be mean. “He was nice,” said Lily, who thought again, and then admitted, “He talked about his horse a lot.”
The Twins exchanged glances. “Oh yeah,” they said. “Yeah.”
One of them said, as if innocent, “So you think he’s cute?”
“Yeah, cute?” asked the other one.
Lily froze. “He has nice … freckles,” she said. “But he’s … he … talks … about…” She stopped.
The Twins both leaned forward. “He is completely crazy,” said one.
“Koo-koo loco,” said the other.
Lily said, “I’ve actually only read one of his books. And then met him today. I don’t really know him well.”
One of the Twins touched her nose, as if to say, “Right on the nose.” She said, “He only has one book.”
The other Twin explained, “He thinks he was the star of a horse book series. But he wasn’t. That’s just what he dreamed of. In fact… Stumpy Rides to Glory, his book—it was one of those DEAD HORSE books”
“You know? Like the dead dog books?”
“Or the dead deer books?”
“It was a total dead horse book.”
Lily nodded. “That’s what I thought I remembered. Stumpy … something happened to Stumpy the horse, didn’t it?”
The Twins nodded. “Caught a weird horse disease saving orphans in a hailstorm,” they said.
“After the book, someone had the horse stuffed and they took it around to libraries to show kids.”
“On wheels.”
“It made the worst squeaking noise. The axles were totally amateur.”
“My sister the perfectionist!”
Suddenly Rick loomed over them. He said, “Hi there, Lily! I see you found your friends.”
Katie dropped her fork. The voice …
“One of my friends isn’t back yet,” said Lily.
“That’s too bad,” said Rick. “Hey, I had a great time today. Didn’t you?”
Lily shrugged. “It was okay,” she said uneasily. “I mean, we were looking for those kids who are in danger …”
“But it was such a great opportunity to get to know a wonderful lady like Mrs. Mandrake.”
Rick’s voice sounded a little bit like the assistant manager in a second-rate electronics store that specialized in phone adapters.
Katie forgot she was not supposed to be solving mysteries. In that instant, she knew just one thing: This man was the burglar. She rose from her seat and pointed at Rick. “You stole that necklace!” she said. “I know the sound of your voice! I’d know your voice anywhere! I heard you talking while you searched the room!”
“I think you must be mistaken, young lady,” said Rick.
“I am not mistaken,” she said, still pointing at him. “I heard you!”
“I was with Lily all afternoon,” said the man.
“It was you!”
He laughed. “Oh, what? Maybe my ‘astral self’ projected out of my body through some kind of thought control?” He chuckled. “That’s really not very likely, kid. Dream on. Great suggestion.”
“He honestly was with me all afternoon,” said Lily quietly.
“You snuck into that old woman’s room when people from the search parties were coming in to go to the bathroom!”
“I didn’t go near the bathrooms,” said Rick.
Lily said, “He really didn’t, Katie.”
“I held it,” said Rick, not without pride. “I waited outside.”
“I know you stole that necklace,” said Katie.
He nodded and reached across the table and patted her on the head. “I’m sure you think so, kid.”
“Don’t be—don’t— Don’t you think you’ll get away with it!” Helplessly outraged at crime despite herself, Katie rose and, pointing again, announced to the whole dining room, “THIS MAN STOLE THE MANDRAKE NECKLACE!”
There was silence. People looked up from their meals.
People put down their napkins.
Still silence.
Rick cleared his throat. People waited for an explanation.
He said, “I was with Lily, Mrs. Mandrake, and that horse kid.”
Mrs. Mandrake said, “It is true. This gentleman marauded me all afternoon without cease. He could not have stolen my necklace from my room while we walked together. That appears to be one of the only benefits of spending time with him.”
Katie felt faint. Everyone was looking at her. Everyone was staring at their table.
The Cutesy Dell Twins were mortified. One of them said to the other, “Okay. Do you want to die first or me?”
Katie wanted to hide under the table. Lily reached out and held her friend’s hand tightly.
Everyone wondered what to do at this awkward moment.
Sid, the hotel manager, standing at the back of the dining room, called nervously, “MUSIC! MUSIC! HOW ABOUT MORE MUSIC?”
The diners looked around, startled. Someone in the band picked up a trombone. Everyone clapped as the band began playing and a singer swept out onstage in a beautiful silk gown, a marcel wave in her hair, and grasped the microphone.
Rick smiled at Katie and walked off.
“I know I heard him,” said Katie.
“Or someone who sounded like him,” said one of the Twins sharply.
“Okay, I’m going under the table now,” said the other Twin, “and I’m only coming up when there’s more normalness to breathe.”
Lily still held Katie’s hand. “I believe you,” she said. Katie blinked back tears, looking at her old friend, faithful even now.
In between blinks, she saw the Twins disappear.
Katie said, “I swore I wasn’t going to solve any mysteries this weekend.”
“Don’t worry,” said Lily, determined. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t want to figure it out.” Katie’s voice was high and wiry, and filled with tears. “I dressed up specially for tonight.”
“You look really nice,” said Lily.
“Thanks,” said Katie, but she didn’t really mean it, because she didn’t feel very pretty right then.
“Katie,” urged Lily, and she didn’t need to say anything else.
Katie wiped at her eyes.
At a nearby table, Rick stretched himself and lit a cigar. The Dix-Chords blared the introduction to some song.
Outside, the sun was going down, and Katie and Lily sat miserably alone at their table while the Cutesy Dell Twins crawled toward the water polo team’s feed trough. The setting sun cast great corridors of light through the mountains and the windows, and the brass flashed up onstage, and the beautiful singer began, to the tinkling of the piano:
“They say the earth has oxygen
Enough for twenty billion men
And for their twenty billion gals
And assorted pets and pals.
“But, dear, though there is always air—
Whenever you are standing there
About to close me in your grasp
All I do is swoon and gasp …
Because…
“I’m brrrreathless whenever you’re near…”
The band picked up the pace. People got up to dance. Katie heard a hideous high-pitched shrieking noise and looked over. Dr. Schmeltzer was dancing with Mrs. Mandrake. He screamed the whole time to echolocate other couples. His mouth was big and oval and ugly, but he actually was pretty good at the fox-trot.
My elbows creak
I tremble as in fear.
I get all shy
Though you’re my guy
I’m breathless whenever you’re near.”
People, unsettled by Katie’s accusation, still stared over at their table.
“I wish Jasper were here,” muttered Katie.
Breathless, Jasper lay on the mountainside, held up by a sapling, tied to a chair, choking, with a venomous snake coiled on his back.
His breathing had been whittled down almost to nothing—a tiny screeching whistle.
That high, faint whistle was all that stood between him and death.
His muscles were sore from holding himself still all day. Rocks had dug into his arms and hands. He trembled with exhaustion.
Soon, he thought, by Jupiter… soon …
The sun was going down over the mountains. Ten minutes more, maybe, and the snake would wake up. Ten minutes more, and it would slither home, and Jasper could start to work off the ropes, rip off the tape, and then … Almost with tears, he thought of the glory, the freedom, the splendor, of picking his nose.
He thought of this, lying prone, looking up at the ruddy sunlight falling on the mountain. Only ten more minutes.
But then, with a small tic, the last passage into Jasper’s nostril sealed up.
Jasper Dash was entombed in his own mucus.
He struggled without moving his body. The silver tape heaved around his mouth. His head lifted and dropped.
He couldn’t believe it—only a few minutes more—and now—his lungs—they felt so hideously empty …
“My throat gets frogged
My nose gets clogged
My eyes, they burn and tear.
I gasp for air
I claw my hair
I get brrrrrreathless whenever you’re near.”
“Wow,” said Katie. “This song really makes you want to breathe freely, doesn’t it?”
“Shouldn’t Jasper be back by now?” said Lily. “I hope he’s okay.”
The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen Page 6