Free How to Curse in Hieroglyphics by Lesley Livingston

told her not to worry. I think I know where he’s scampered off to. After you’re done with the sign, I’ll fix you both something to eat—Yeager, you’re welcome to join us—so go on now, scoot.”
    As Pops disappeared back into the house, Tweed sent Pilot to fetch the extension ladder, double time. She and Cheryl ran to get the plastic letters that slotted into the light-up sign below the drive-in’s twinkly-shooting-star logo. Once they were both high up on the sign’s catwalk, they craned their necks to see if they could spot Artie across the road. Or a shambling creature of the undead. But aside from the increasingly frantic bustle of carnival set-up and the occasional KA-BLAAMM!!! from Human Cannonball test shots, there seemed to be absolutely nothing out of the ordinary going on at the World-O-Wonders. It was befuddling.
    â€œIs there a Dumpster over there?” Cheryl asked, anxiously, as she slid a letter O into place. “I’ll bet he’s behind the Dumpster.”
    â€œI can’t tell from here,” Tweed said, shading her eyes from the low-riding sun. “There are too many tents.”

    â€œHand me another O,” Cheryl said. “When it gets dark, everyone is gonna come here to the drive-in instead of going there. The place will be empty except for bored, lonely carnies, and we can sneak back in and find that pesky Shrimpcake! Hand me another O …”
    Finally (and with only one spelling error on the sign—“LAGOOON” had sprouted an extra O somehow), the twins climbed down and flipped the big lever in the control box at the base of the sign. The day’s chaotic events were forgotten for a moment as they stood gazing up, basking in the glow of their very first night as the Starlight’s official programmers, supremely confident that such an irresistible roster would triumph over paltry carnival offerings.
    But only for a moment. On the way back to the barn to stow the ladder, they filled Pilot in on their plan to sneak back into the carnival after nightfall and rescue Artie. They had barely stepped through the barn door when the big black rotary phone on the workbench started to ring.
    Cheryl left the others to put away the ladder and picked up the clunky handset with her standard “Yello …”
    Tweed watched, curious, as her cousin listened to a high-pitched, rapid-fire stream of conversation, all the while trying to jam a word in edgewise. An intriguing parade of facial expressions marched across Cheryl’s features.
    â€œWhat can I do for y—”

    Cheryl paused, clearly interrupted but listening attentively.
    â€œLast Minute Club? Cruise, huh? Bu—”
    Her eyes went a bit wide as she listened some more.
    â€œWe’re a little busy—”
    She nodded and tried again.
    â€œWell, of course we weren’t toying with you . Bu—”
    Exasperated sigh.
    â€œIt’s just that we programmed the triple bi—” Comic, exaggerated eye-roll . “Uh . how many?”
    Finger-twirl at temple, indicating kookiness.
    â€œHow much?”
    Sudden jaw drop.
    â€œOkay, okay!” she blurted. “Done. Deal. We’ll do it!”
    There was an audible click and Cheryl held the phone in front of her, a funny expression on her face. Tweed raised an eyebrow at her cousin.
    â€œThere’s definitely gotta be a full moon rising.” Cheryl shook her head and hung up the phone. “This much crazy just doesn’t happen by coincidence .”
    â€œSitch?” asked Tweed.
    â€œI said she’d call, partner. And she called.”
    â€œWho called?” Pilot asked, uncharacteristically fidgety. He kept glancing over his shoulder, almost as if he expected to find Artie standing there.
    â€œThat was Miz Parks. Apparently our offer of expertitious services struck a chord with her the otherday.” Cheryl shrugged. “She went and booked herself a Last Minute