Free The Sound of Life and Everything by Krista Van Dolzer Page B

Pauling said, “as I already told you, I want to hear this from the girl.” He returned his attention to me. “So where did he come from, this Japanese man?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “Japan?”
    The other men snickered again, like I’d said something funny. Scientists were peculiar folks.
    â€œExcuse me,” Mama said, “but we just want to know if he can hold the boy indefinitely.”
    â€œOf course not,” Dr. Pauling said. “The Institute’s not in the habit of incarcerating volunteers.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “But how do you know this Japanese man wants to go home with you?”
    I thought back on those times when we locked eyes through the window. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I know
I
want to take him, and it seems like that should count.”
    This time, no one snickered. Dr. Pauling rubbed his jaw again and studied the model. At first, it had reminded me of a spiral staircase, but the more I stared at it, the more I decided that it looked like an exotic flower.
    Finally, he glanced at Mama. “You support this rescue mission?”
    Mama nodded. “Absolutely.”
    Then he glanced at Dr. Franks. “And they signed the standard contract?”
    Dr. Franks harrumphed. “Well, Mrs. Clausen did.”
    â€œWho’s Mrs. Clausen?” Dr. Pauling asked, then swiftly shook his head. “Oh, never mind. Don’t tell me. I probably don’t want to know.”
    I snorted. “You’re not kiddin’.”
    Dr. Pauling mopped his forehead with an off-white handkerchief. “It sounds like we have no choice.”
    Dr. Franks nearly leaped out of his lab coat. “Well, of course we have a choice! We can’t concede the race to James and Francis!”
    â€œWe’re not conceding
anything.
” Dr. Pauling gripped his shoulder. “Certainly your line of research isn’t dependent on one subject.”
    Dr. Franks started to answer, then changed his mind at the last second.
    â€œYou see? Things will work out.” Dr. Pauling glanced at me. “Was there anything else?”
    I shook my head. “We’re good.”
    He held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure doing business.”
    I grinned as I said, “Likewise.”

11
    We picked up the Japanese man back on the first floor. Thankfully, someone had managed to find him a pair of pants and a clean shirt. I could have handled riding home next to a Japanese man or a man in his pajamas, but certainly not both.
    I stared at the man, and he stared back at me. He smelled like Dr. Franks’s sickly sweet cologne, but it didn’t seem fair to hold that against him. Maybe it wasn’t his cologne but the building itself.
    I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “You’re comin’ with us.”
    The Japanese man blinked.
    â€œDo you understand?” I motioned back and forth between us. “We’re breakin’ you out!”
    â€œYou’re wasting your breath, foolish girl,” Dr. Franks said, sniffing. “He doesn’t speak English.”
    â€œNeither do Uncle George’s sheep,” I said, “but I still talk to them.”
    Dr. Franks’s lip curled, but instead of answering, he stalked away.
    I waited until he disappeared, then asked the Japanese man, “Are you ready?”
    The man bowed. “Are-ee-got-toe.”
    I decided that meant yes.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Mama took the long way home, winding aimlessly past orange groves before merging onto Highway 1. The beach looked especially inviting after our long day at the lab, but Mama said we couldn’t stop, since Daddy was going to have enough questions as it was.
    Daddy was a Northerner, with a family tree that stretched all the way back to Plymouth Rock, so he hadn’t had a problem when the Dodgers hired Jackie Robinson or when Mr. Dent married his Hawaiian bride. But then,