Читать книгу The Pink Sneakers Club: Sometime Around Midnight - Christian Bertoni - Страница 4

“Scalpel.” Natalie placed it in my gloved hand, “tweezers.” I felt just like a real surgeon. Through the painters mask I said, “okay, I need someone to hold the flap back a little.” I looked up and nobody seemed to be rushing in to help. “Guys I can’t do everything. A little help.” Again nobody moved. “Okay fine, Kaye hold the flap back.”

Kaye huffed. “Fine. But I want to go on record as saying this is really gross.”

While I’m cutting away at the skin and fur let me update you a little on what’s happened in the last week or so. Two days ago we all went to a ceremony in our honor held at the Convention Center. It was great! Even the President of the United States showed up after hearing about what we did! The reception was a lot of fun, music, dancing, and food. There must have been about 4,000 plus people in attendance. The President gave each of us; wait for it; the Presidential Medal of Freedom! It’s the highest civilian award in the U.S. Here’s what the President said: “Actions above and beyond the call of duty; and exhibiting exceptional courage, extraordinary decisiveness and presence of mind; or an unusual swiftness of action, regardless of his or her personal safety, in an attempt to save or protect human life.” Randi recorded it on her iPhone and sent each of us a copy.

Now, if you’ve never seen the Presidential Medal of Freedom it’s quite impressive. The badge is in the form of a gold star with white enamel, with a red enamel pentagon behind it. The central disc bears thirteen gold stars on a blue enamel background within a gold ring. Golden Bald Eagles with spread wings stand between the points of the star and it comes with a blue ribbon with white edge stripes.

Even my parents showed up, a little perplexed about the whole affair, but hey, at least they showed. And I think they may have even had fun. I mean they really didn’t dance or anything but they did sort of socialize with people . . . when people came over to talk to them that is. My mom and I are working on our relationship. She’s trying.

Right now we’re renting a house until the workers fix ours. They said it should take a couple of months. So we actually moved a couple of blocks from Randi.

It’s a nice house and little beneath my parents taste since they seem to have a flare for the ostentatious. I actually like it a little more than my current house. It seems less cold. If that makes any sense.

When you walk in, to your right is a great big living room that opens into the kitchen. In the center of the living area is a slightly curved staircase with a wooden banister. On the right side of the staircase heading towards the kitchen is a door that leads to the basement. The kitchen itself is quite modernized with the usual amenities: island, stainless steel refrigerator, six-burner stove, dual oven and a large breakfast area. Off the kitchen is the dining room and off of that is a formal living room.

Down the hall from the living room is a full bathroom with bathtub and shower, a master bedroom also with a full bath and a study. Upstairs has one full bathroom, my room, and a guest room. Backyard has a large pool with a patio.

Changing the subject, because I don’t want to talk about the house anymore. Since we’ve become somewhat . . . famous per se, people have been asking us to solve things for them. Things like Randi’s neighbor from across the street asking us to find her little black dog. I think she said the dog’s name was Smokee I’m not sure, we’re still looking for the dog. Right now we have another case, Randi’s next door neighbor, Mrs. Myers, has hired us to find out what happened to her cat. I mean she knows it’s dead but she wants us to find out who killed her cat. So that’s what we’re doing right now, understanding how the cat died.

“Kaye, pull the flap back a little.”

I cut a piece of its fur from the top of its head to reveal the crushed skull.

“Oh God I think I’m gonna puke.” Natalie said.

“Don’t! If you throw up I’m going to throw up, and I don’t feel like throwing up.” Randi said.

“Eww. Well no one feels like throwing up.” Caren said.

“See,” I said examining the skull, “somebody crushed its head in. See the bone fragments? Somebody hit it either with a brick or a rock but somebody purposely killed this cat.”

“Man that sucks.” Kaye chimed in.

I looked over at Randi who looked worried, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bull.” Kaye said. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing. Just processing that’s all. Let’s go give Mrs. Myers the bad news.”

We wrapped the body up in plastic bag then gently placed it in a trash bag and left Randi’s backyard.

Randi’s mother was in the kitchen making lunch when we walked in, “mom we’re going over to Mrs. Myers.”

“What did you guys find out?”

Natalie answered, “somebody killed it.”

“Really? Too bad. Poor Patricia. So now what?”

Randi answered this time, “don’t really know.”

“Lunch will be ready soon.”

“Okay. We’ll be back.” Randi said.