Free A Nose for Adventure by Richard Scrimger

asks Slouchy. I’d recognize his voice anywhere. “Any trouble?”
    “No,” says Ron.
    “Good,” says Slouchy.
    Frieda gasps. I shut up. I can’t help it, I’m scared.
    Then I hear a rolling sound, like a skateboard, and another voice saying, “Thought I heard something.” Not a kid’s voice, but not grown-up. And what an accent.
Thwahwt I huwd somepm
.
    “No,” says Ron. “Just us talking.”
    “Sounded like someone calling for help,” says the not-quite-grown-up voice.
Cwollin fuh heaylp
. It takes me a second to figure out what he’s saying.
    “Beat it, junior,” says Slouchy. “And take your wagon with you.”
    Not a skateboard. Junior sounds too old to be playing with a wagon. “You sure there’s no one calling for help?” he says.
    “I didn’t hear anything,” says Slouchy. “You hear anything, Ron?”
    “No,” says Ron.
    “You sure?”
Shew-ah
, it sounds like.
    Silence. I should make a noise. I should say something.That’s what Norbert would do. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out except air.
    “I told you to beat it,” says Slouchy.
    “Shew-ah.” He doesn’t seem too worried. The sound of his wagon fades in the distance. One of its wheels squeaks.
    The doors of the truck open. There’s Slouchy, with his red hair and cologne.
    “Get out!” he says. “Jones, Ronnie, get them out!” Jones must be the real name of the skinny government guy. He might have superpowers at the airport; here he follows Slouchy’s orders.
    Hands reach towards us in the darkness. Ronnie’s are small, delicate, with tinted nails. Ronnie is a woman. I’m so surprised, I forget my fear.
    Frieda is nodding to herself. “I wondered, back at the airport,” she says.
    “Ron?” I say. “Ronnie? Veronica?”
    The flight attendant. So interested in taking care of us, I remember. Wonder if she takes care of all her passengers this way, or if we’re getting special treatment.
    They hustle me out of the truck first. Then they lift Frieda down – not very carefully. I grab her before she falls over. Her designer suit is covered in grease and dirt. Her sunglasses are gone. Without them, she looks younger.
    I help her to the ground. She sits with her back against a broken fence. She looks like a doll. Her head is on one side. Her eyes are wide open – startling blue eyes. I’ve never noticed them before. The same color as her earrings.Her muscular arms dangle. You almost expect her to say, “Mama,” or “I made wee-wee,” or “Math is hard!”
    “So we finally got you out of your chair, hey!” says Slouchy. “Couldn’t do it in the airport. You were too clever, hey? Well, who’s laughing now?” He is, that’s who. I catch a faint glint of his silver tooth.
    We’re in an alley. Trash all over. Tall brick buildings blocking out the sky. Traffic noise very faint in the distance. Skinny stands next to me.
    “Well, Ronnie?” Slouchy asks over his shoulder. Veronica is in the back of the truck. “Did you get them?”
    I can’t see what she’s doing, but I hear a metallic clunking sound. Frieda’s chair sliding along the floor.
    “Have you heard from my parents?” Frieda asks. “What do they say?”
    Veronica gets down from the truck, brandishing something wrapped in brown paper. There’s a smell that takes me back to a summer’s day long ago, when I was very small and my dad was treating the back fence. Creosote. It’s also the smell of railroad ties – I wonder if I smelled it earlier. The package has been thoroughly waterproofed.
    “What do my parents say?” Frieda asks. A brave girl. She’s afraid of the answer, but she wants to know.
    Slouchy’s eyes are on the wrapped package. “I’ve never talked to your parents,” he says.
    “Then why,” she gasps, “did you kidnap me?”
    “Kidnap?” says Skinny. “Who said anything about kidnap?”
    “It’s not kidnapping to borrow a truck with two kids hiding in the back,” says Slouchy. “And, anyway, we don’t care about