Free The Great Circus Train Robbery by Nancy Means Wright Page B

spreading his arms.
    “Oh, great. I just tell mom ‘big,’ and she’ll make it the right size. Now go check the Portapotties, please. That’s probably where Hackberry is. Throwing up if he’s so scared of everything. Mom’s coming to pick up us at four-fifteen. And that’s”—she checked her watch—” in sixteen minutes. We’ll meet in the parking lot. See you there.” She leapt up the trailer steps in her sagging red shorts and white socks that had a hole in the center of each one.
    “Your mom better get you some new shorts.”  He grinned. “Or a big safety pin.”
    “And you better go brush your hair. It’s full of banana peel. Cute!” She laughed, like it was something hilarious.
    Which it wasn’t. He combed out the peel with his fingers, then thrust the monkey back into Hackberry’s school bus. It howled when he shut the door on it. Now he’d have to come back and feed it if Hackberry didn’t show up. Or find someone to do it—but he couldn’t think that far ahead right now. He just wanted to find Hackberry.
    He looked around for someone to ask.
    “Hackberry?” said a woman holding up a pink parasol over her puffy orange hairdo, “he’s just paranoid. Don’t worry about him.”
    “Hackberry?’ said a hairy man in a sleeveless black T-shirt. “Wife left him,  you know.  He’s probably gone off to cry somewhere.  He’ll turn up.   When he comes off, you gotta shove him back in.”
    “I tried to shove him back and he shoved me and took off,” Spence explained.
    “Then you better start lifting weights and try harder.”
    “Where is his wife?” Spence asked. He hadn’t known about a wife. But if he could locate her...
    “Up there on the hill.” The man waved an arm. “She used to be a clown. But she’s not clowning around with him anymore. They’re separated.” Guffawing, the man ran to catch up with the pink parasol.
    Discouraged, Spence found Zoe’s mom in the parking lot—he was already five minutes late. She was holding up Tulip’s ripped costume, she wasn’t happy. “I know French School’s over,” she was telling Zoe, “but I have to read a new book for French 3. I have to plan assignments, I have to...”
    “Mom, please. I’ll help. I’ll make dinner. If you can just pin a patch on the back, I’ll sew it up. We’ll do it together, Mom.”
    “It’s too far gone for a patch,” Mrs. Elwood said. “I’ll have to buy some fabric on the way home and have Missy Barnes cut out a new one. But by tomorrow?”
    “By Saturday, Mom.”
    “Oh, goody. We’ll have a whole day to do it then.” She made a growling noise in her throat. But she turned on a smile when she saw Spence. “How’s the cello tuning up, Spence?”
    “Not so well. It needs a new A string.”
    “Oh dear. Must be a contagion in the air. Things are breaking down all over. I even saw that grumpy new neighbor of ours, driving out of the parking lot. His car sounded like the 1812 Overture, complete with firing cannon. He must have a shot muffler.”
    “Mr. Boomer you mean?”
    “Of course, Mr. Boomer. The rest of our neighbors are friendly.”
    “Was he wearing a black hat and tie?” Zoe asked. “Did he have a mustache?”
    “Not unless he grew it since yesterday. Anyway, everything looked dark through the misty windshield. It’s starting to rain, in case you hadn’t noticed. But no, I had the impression of something, um—yellow, I think. A yellow shirt, yes. I can’t imagine Mr. Boomer in a necktie. Now get in the car, please? If we’re going to stop at the fabric shop and still have a meal when your dad and Kelby get in from the trees, we’ll have to hustle.”
    “It was Boomer, I bet,” Zoe whispered to Spence in the back seat (her parents’ rules).  “He could’ve worn a fake mustache. He could’ve made a quick change.”
    “And kidnapped Hackberry,” Spence said. “Tied him up and locked him in the trunk of his car. Jeezum. Now what?”
    “We get back into his