Free Sammy Keyes and the Psycho Kitty Queen by Wendelin Van Draanen Page B

winning forty dollars by doing a front bump on my first try
    Holly's jaw was dangling, but Vera frowned and said, “They sound like a bunch of basement bookies.”
    “Basement bookies?”
    “You know, gamblers.”
    I thought about it a minute, then said, “Was that illegal?”
    Meg snorted. “I'm sure it was. You were like a horse at the races…”
    Vera nodded. “Or a bird at a cockfight.”
    “Or a bull at the rodeo.”
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “A bull at the rodeo? People bet on
bulls?”
    Meg shrugged. “People bet on just about anything.”
    Vera was still nodding. “And if they know lucky, they'll bet on girls who
are
lucky.”
    “Lucky?
Me?”
I couldn't believe my ears. “I'm not lucky, I'm
cursed.”
    Meg and Vera both rolled their eyes. Then Meg said, “I've never actually known anyone who's managed to go
down
in age.”
    “That's right,” Vera added. “I'd give what's left of my teeth to go down a year.”
    “But not to be thirteen!”
    “Honey,” Vera said, “if I could do thirteen again, believe me, I would. And this time I'd do it right.”
    “Right? You can't do anything right when you're thirteen. Seems like everything you do is
wrong.”
    Meg laughed. “I might do the same things, I'd just go about them different.”
    Vera said, “Well, I wouldn't be in such a dad-gum hurry to grow up. Why, I remember when I was thirteen, the one thing in the world I wanted was this ruby red lipstick at the five-and-dime. I was mad for that lipstick. But Mother wouldn't even let me try it on! For three years I heard, ‘When you're sixteen. Not until you're sixteen!' When I finally did turn sixteen, she bought it for me, and do you know what? It looked god-awful on me. I waited three years for a tube of lipstick that I wore but once.”
    Then Meg said, “You never told me that story before, Mom. It reminds me of those boots I wanted. Remember those?”
    “Those white go-go boots?”
    “Yes! And you would absolutely not get them for me?”
    “Oh, Meg, honestly. You cannot compare go-go boots to a lipstick—”
    Now, while the two of them are going on about go-go boots and lipstick, Holly pulls me aside and whispers, “Personally, I'm with you.”
    I chuckle and say, “Thanks.” Then I ask, “Can I use your phone?”
    She nods and takes me into the kitchen, whispering,“There are worse things than being thirteen, but still, I cannot believe your mother.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    She hands me the phone and says, “Is that who you're calling?”
    “No way.” I punch buttons on the dial pad and say, “I'm calling someone much more reliable.”
    When Hudson answers the phone, I say, “Hey, Hudson. I need your psycho neighbor's phone number.”
    There's a moment of silence, then he says, “You mean Miss Kitty's?”
    “You got more than one psycho neighbor?”
    He laughs. “Actually, yes. But here, let me get you her number.” A few seconds later he's back. And after I jot down the number, he says, “Now, Sammy—”
    “Don't worry, Hudson. I'll be polite.”
    “Good girl. I take it you have some information for her?”
    “Maybe. I spotted a guy who looks just like a bulldog.”
    “Oh,” he says, and believe me, it's a real skeptical oh.
    “Well, he went into Slammin' Dave's, but I lost him after that. I'm just going to tell her about him—she can check it out herself if she wants to.”
    So we say bye, and while I'm punching in the Psycho's number, Holly says, “I don't get why you want to help someone who's so mean.”
    “I don't know. I guess if it was Dorito that had been snatched, I'd want help tracking him down.” Then all of a sudden, “Hello, Miss Kitty speaking” comes purring in my ear.
    “Uh, hi. This is Sammy. Hudson's friend?”
    Her tone turns sour.
“You
again? Ebony better not be dead!”
    “Well, I haven't exactly
found
him. I—”
    “Then why are you calling? I didn't give
you
my phone number. You have no right to bother me this way. I