Free Sink or Swim by Bob Balaban Page A

life as a mob of angry aliens chases him through a dark and winding tunnel. We’re not paying attention. We have bigger fish to fry. Much bigger.
    â€œYour clone is the robber,” Lucille announces. “I’d bet my life on it.”
    â€œDouble ditto,” Sam says happily. “This explains everything!”
    â€œYeah,” I reply. “Except who that other creature is.”
    â€œAnd what he’s doing here,” Lucille adds.
    â€œAnd where he came from,” I say. “Other than that, it explains everything.”
    â€œSo what do we do now?” I ask.
    â€œSimple, big guy,” Sam explains. “We apprehend the
other
creature and turn him in to the police, you get your Get Out of Jail Free card, Muchnick takes you off the swim team, everyone knows you’re innocent, and things go back to normal.”
    â€œDefine
normal
.” I wave my tail in the air.
    â€œI still think you should tell your mother, Charlie,” Lucille insists.
    â€œI don’t,” I reply. “If I told my mom there was a dangerous monster on the loose, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight for a second, and we’d
never
be able to capture the creature.”
    â€œTrue.” Sam picks at the peeling black polish on his fingernails. “And who knows if she’d believe him anyway? An identical twin monster running around getting Charlie into trouble? Even
you
had trouble believing it, Lucille, and you heard the monster with your own two ears. I’m with the big guy.” He nods at me.
    â€œThen you should talk to Mr. Arkady, Charlie,” Lucille suggests. “He’s always telling us to come to him with our problems.”
    â€œBut what could he do to help?” I wonder.
    â€œYou never know until you ask,” Lucille answers.
    â€œI’m home!” My dad slams the front door. Balthazar barks and runs into the hallway to greet him.
    â€œDinner’s ready,” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Come and get it!”
    I turn off the TV. “How do you suggest we go about catching this thing?”
    â€œWe set a trap,” Lucille suggests.
    â€œJust what I was thinking, Lucille,” Sam says. “All we need is the right bait.” They both look at me.
    â€œUh-uh. No way. I may be big and green and scaly, but I’m not crazy. I’m not going out there looking for trouble. That creature could tear me in half in two seconds without even breaking a sweat.”
    â€œLizards don’t sweat, Charlie,” Lucille explains. “It’s a commonly known fact. In hot weather the frilled dragon has been known to compensate by running around on its hind legs, thus generating a cool breeze and lowering its body temperature.”
    â€œThat’s very reassuring, Lucille,” I reply.
    My dad pokes his head into the den. “Hurry up, kids. I’m so hungry I could eat a table and have enough room left over for some chairs.” There’s no arguing with a starving father.
    We go wash our hands and claws and then everyone runs to take their place at the dining room table, except Dave, who is still at football practice. Big surprise.
    â€œPlease pass the potatoes, Mrs. D.” Sam places his napkin in his lap.
    As my mom hands Sam the platter, my dad lugs in the little TV from the kitchen. “Get that thing out of here, honey,” Mom complains. “Dinner is a time for relaxing and communicating.”
    My dad puts the TV on the buffet next to the dining room table. “You’re not going to believe what Al Swanson just texted me.” Al works in direct sales at Balls in Malls, the sporting goods store my dad manages. “Everybody’s talking about it.” Dad turns the TV on, and Joe Jefferson appears, as tan and perfect as ever.
    â€œYou’re impossible, Fred Drinkwater,” my mom snorts as she heads for the kitchen.
    â€œQuiet, honey. Listen to this,” Dad