Читать книгу Mail Order Massacres - Hunter Shea - Страница 14

Chapter Five

It was over ninety degrees and there was nary a lick of shade outside Shopwell. As much as David and Patrick would have liked to go swimming, they know hot days are the best ones to make money. On days like this, shoppers, especially old people, wanted all the help they could get with their bags.

It was paying off. Their pockets were full to bursting with quarters.

“We could go to the Kendall tomorrow and see that Godzilla double feature,” Patrick said, counting out his quarters on the lid of a trashcan. “I’ve almost got five bucks already.”

“And we’ll still have plenty left over for the new Moon Knight and Batman.”

Patrick sensed a return of their old debate about which of the two was a better superhero, Moon Knight being Marvel Comics’ answer to the ever-popular Batman, but David looked too tired to fight. They were both sweating up a storm.

“Excuse me, would you boys do me a favor?” An older woman wearing bright red lipstick and so much rouge on her cheeks she looked like a clown stood behind them holding a sheaf of papers in her trembling hands.

David looked around, searching for some bags or a shopping cart.

“I was wondering if you could post these signs for me. I tried, but I’m just not up to it. I’ll give you each a dollar.”

Patrick said, “Sure, we’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you so much. Here, you can use these.” She handed Patrick a box of thumbtacks.

David looked at the top flier. It had a picture of a white Yorkie with the word MISSING printed above. The dog’s name was Reggie and it had gone missing two days ago. The flier listed a number to call if anyone found Reggie, along with the promise of a reward.

There were tears in the old lady’s eyes.

“I miss him so much, but my heart isn’t made for this kind of heat.”

“I hope someone finds your dog,” Patrick said. She patted his head.

“You keep your eyes out, too. You’re such nice boys. If I’m going to reward anyone, I hope it’s you.”

She slowly tottered to her car, which was parked in the yellow loading zone, and drove off, the power steering screeching like a box of angry bats.

David said, “We should put one on the bulletin board inside the store.”

“And cool off for a minute.”

They walked in the out door. The big corkboard was chock-full of papers.

And most of them were notices of missing cats and dogs.

Little Reggie was just one among many. The boys read the pleas to find people’s cherished pets until the manager shooed them away.

“I don’t mind your little enterprise outside, boys, but I can’t have you clogging up the exit.”

They left without protest, the heat smacking them in the face.

“What, did someone go around stealing everyone’s pets?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t know. Come on, let’s stick these on some poles.”

For thirteen-year-olds, reality is what they make of their own little world. For David and Patrick, that reality revolved around comics, movies, baseball and swimming.

Neither had been aware of the preponderance of missing cat and dog posters popping up all around town the past week. Desperate notices to find lost dogs had been stapled over sad stories of a little girl’s cat, Sabrina, that had gone out one day and never returned. It seemed as if there were more missing pets than ones actually safe at home.

“This is crazy,” David said.

“Way crazy.”

True to their word, and because they wanted to earn that dollar, they found the few bare spots left to put up the missing Reggie fliers. It left them uneasy, at least until they got home and started talking about the Godzilla movies they were going to see the next day.

“You smell that?” Patrick said as they turned the corner to their block.

“Whoever smelt it, dealt it.”

“If I beefed like that, call a doctor.”

They saw the old jerk Ernie walking away from them, holding a can of something. Thank God he didn’t see them. He’d try to tell them he’d bought the sidewalk’s rights from the city again and order them off it.

“Maybe Ernie finally cleaned out that garbage can,” David said.

Patrick had forgotten that they’d hidden the sea serpent tank in his garbage. He hoped the smell made Ernie sick.

He laughed. “Oh yeah. I bet that made his day.”

They high-fived, agreeing to get Alan, Chris, Mike and Jimmy together for a post-dinner Wiffle ball tournament. They also decided to do a little searching for cats and dogs every day. The reward money paid a lot more than hauling bags outside Shopwell or cutting lawns. Everyone’s loss would definitely be their gain.