Free The Sasquatch Escape (The Imaginary Veterinary) by Suzanne Selfors

T-shirt into her shiny blue basketball shorts. “I don’t get in trouble on purpose. I put food coloring in Mr. Mutt’s koi pond because I thought it would lookpretty. How was I supposed to know that it would dye the fish, too? And I set that windup rat loose during the parade because I was bored. No one ever told me that ponies are afraid of rats.”
    Pearl and Ben stopped at an empty intersection. Ben looked around for footprints and tufts of fur but found none. His gaze traveled up and down the street. Buttonville had to be the quietest place on Earth. No honking cars, no blaring music, no air traffic. The only sign of life was a man sweeping the sidewalk in front of the Buttonville Clothing Barn. “Hey, watch it!” the man yelled as a grocery cart rumbled past, nearly knocking him over. The rumbling grew louder as the cart rolled toward Pearl and Ben.
    “That’s one of our Dollar Store carts,” Pearl said. “Someone’s taking a ride.”
    “Ugh, what’s that smell?” Ben asked.
    The kids jumped out of the way as the cart whizzed past. A pair of hairy arms hung over the edge. A pair of hairy kneecaps and a sunbonnetpeeked out the top. Thanks to the slight incline of the sidewalk, the cart picked up speed.
    “The sasquatch,” Ben said.
    But Pearl wasn’t there to hear him. She was already in pursuit.

16

    T he Dollar Store cart lay overturned on the steps of the Buttonville Senior Center, the sunbonnet at its side. The center’s front door stood wide open. A tuft of brown fur hung from the doorknob. “Do you have the chocolate bar?” Pearl asked.
    Ben, who’d been holding the Sasquatch Catching Kit the entire time, nodded. “Should we open it now?”
    “Yeah. If we open it, maybe the sasquatch will smell it.” Pearl unlocked the kit. Then she grabbedthe chocolate bar. After tearing off the top wrapper, she folded back the foil inner wrapper. A dark, shiny rectangle peeked out. Ben wanted to take a bite.
    Pearl held out the bar and quietly called, “Here, sasquatchy. Here, sasquatchy.” But nothing big and hairy appeared. Only Ben’s grandfather stepped out of the senior center, and he had almost no hair at all.
    “Ben!” he called with a wave. “Why are you standing out there? Come in and eat some pudding.”
    Even though it was a nice summer morning, the senior center heat was turned on full blast. The warmth made Ben want to curl up and take a nap. He fought a yawn. This was no time to get sleepy. He and Pearl were on an important sasquatch-finding mission.
    Three tables had been placed end to end, each covered with pudding cups. Some of the cups were stacked almost to the ceiling; others were displayed on cake stands. Vanilla, banana, chocolate, butterscotch, and swirl were squeezed onto every squareinch of the tables. Between the cups stood cans of whipped cream and tubs of sprinkles.
    “Wow,” Ben said to his grandfather. “That’s a lot of pudding.”
    “That’s a lot of pudding?” Grandpa Abe chuckled. “You should see how much pudding we had before Maybell got here.” He nodded toward a rather beefy woman who was seated at the back of the room. She peeled the top off her butterscotch pudding. Dozens of empty cups littered the floor around her.
    Tables and chairs crowded the rest of the room. In each chair sat a very old person. Many had hearing aids in their ears; most wore thick eyeglasses. Each had a pudding cup or two. Some of the seniors looked older than Ben’s grandfather by dozens of years, their faces wrinkled like pieces of fabric.
    “Do you see it?” Pearl whispered in Ben’s ear.
    “No,” Ben whispered back. “But I can smell it.” The sour odor of wet dog hung in the air, mixed with the sweet scents of banana and vanilla. Where was the hairy beast?



Because the room was buzzing with conversation, Grandpa Abe had to clap his hands to get attention. “Look, everyone!” he called. “It’s my grandson, Ben.”
    Plastic spoons were lowered and heads turned,