Free A Weird Case of Super-Goo by Kenneth Oppel Page A

dinner. The only thing he didn’t like about Aunt Lillian was her smoking. She smoked the stinkiest cigarettes he’d ever smelled.
    “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” said Mrs Barnes in a dazed, hollow voice.
    “How long is she staying?” Giles asked, trying not to seem too enthusiastic.
    “About two w-w-weeks,” his mother stuttered. She turned to Giles’s father. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”
    “It’ll be fine, Elizabeth,” said Mr Barnes. “You’ll be working at the university most days, and in the evenings we’ll all be here to help you cope with her.”
    Mrs Barnes nodded silently, taking quick, desperate sips of her tea. Giles knew that Aunt Lillian drove her crazy. It went way back to when they were kids. Mom said she always had to take care of Lillian, clean up after her, and get her out of trouble. Whenever she did something messy or bad—which was almost every day, and sometimes twice—Giles’s Mom usually ended up taking the blame. According to her, she had been the most overworked babysitter in the world.
    Giles had heard all sorts of fabulous stories about Aunt Lillian’s crimes—from almost setting fire to the cats, to painting her whole body pink. When she wasolder she had sleep-over parties where she held séances and talked to the spirits of long-dead gangsters, scaring some of the girls so badly that their parents had to come in the middle of the night and take them home.
    “Why’s she coming?” Giles asked.
    “I didn’t quite catch the reason,” said Mr Barnes. “Something about her apartment needing spraying, I think.”
    Giles was glad Aunt Lillian was coming—so glad that he’d almost forgotten his orange hair. Those rotten Quarks! Well, with his aunt here, he wouldn’t even notice that Tina and Kevin were gone from his life. Who needed them?
    A car pulled up outside the house with a fanfare of honking.
    “I hate it when she does that,” said Mrs Barnes through clenched teeth.
    “Try to stay calm,” Mr Barnes told his wife. “It’ll be much easier if you stay calm.”
    “All right,” she said, getting up and walking to the door like a zombie.
    “Deep breath,” Giles’s Dad told her.
    Mrs Barnes took a deep breath.
    “Smile.”
    Giles’s Mom smiled, and Giles could practically hear her mouth cracking as she stretched it into a big, friendly, fake smile. She looked like a demented clown.
    Before Mom could even put her hand on the knob, the front door flew open, and Aunt Lillian burst in.
    “Hello, hello!” she cried. “I’m here at last. Sorry I took so long but the traffic was terrible. Hello, Liz, you look gorgeous! Hello Matt, hello, Giles.”
    Giles was swept up into her arms and smothered with her perfume. Both of his cheeks were smacked with kisses, and then Aunt Lillian held him at arm’s length and looked him over.
    “Giles,” she cooed, “ love the hair.”
    “It was an accident.”
    “Nonsense. It’s perfect, it’s fabulous, it’s phenomenal. It’s you.”
    “It’s me?”
    “Oh, yes. Orange hair suits you. It goes with your skin tone. And your astrological sign, of course. Scorpio, right?”
    “Right.” Giles was impressed that she’d remembered.
    “Why don’t you come in and have a cup of tea, Lillian,” said Mrs Barnes. “Giles and Matt will get your luggage.”
    “Well, I’d better supervise,” said Aunt Lillian. “I’ve got some pretty important stuff out there.”
    They all went out to the car, which was crammed with suitcases and cardboard boxes.
    “What is all that?” exclaimed Mrs Barnes.
    “Oh, just a few things. This and that. You know.”
    Mrs Barnes was beginning to look suspicious.
    “What’s in all those boxes, Lillian?”
    “Herbs, spices, roots, and berries—oh, I’d better take that one,” she said to Giles, as he reached for a small wooden box. “It’s a bit fragile—full of glassware, you know.”
    Giles caught a glimpse of several bottles—one filled with