Free Bubble in the Bathtub by Jo Nesbø Page B

Behind him sat another guy who looked exactly like him, tilting a chair back and reading a magazine. Victor said, ‘Fill ’er up’ and didn’t notice that I had unwound myself from the scarf and was hunching down in the sidecar.”

    â€œWhy were you doing that?”
    â€œBecause I’d been able to read the name on the sign as we drove in. And look at those two guys. They had teeth as big as tombstones in those enormous jaws of theirs. They looked like—”
    â€œDon’t tell me,” Lisa gasped. “Hippos! You were in Innebrède. How awful!”
    â€œThe guy in the coveralls starting pumping the gas, eyeing Proctor with suspicion the whole time. Then he called over his shoulder to his twin brother, ‘Hey, what did the boss say that professor guy looked like?’ ‘Tall, thin, ugly beanpole with motorcycle goggles,’ the brother answered without looking up from his magazine. ‘Guy’s name is Proctor.’
    â€œI was scared because that meant that not only did Cliché know I’d run off, but he knew who I was with. Meanwhile, Victor, who had no idea what was going on, lit up: ‘Wow! Have you guys heard of me? I mean, I knew there was that piece in the school paper about my time-traveling bathtub, and they did take my picture to go with it, but to be recognized so far from Paris, well—’
    â€œAt this point I interrupted Victor and whispered as loudly as I dared: ‘Drive away! Drive away now!’
    â€œâ€˜But honey, Juliette, these nice men just wanted to—’
    â€œâ€˜Drive! Otherwise we’ll miss our appointment with the priest!’
    â€œâ€˜Well, I have to pay for the gas—’
    â€œVictor hadn’t noticed that the hippos were closing in so I stood up in the sidecar, stomped on the starter pedal, and turned the throttle as far as it would go. The motorcycle jumped, lurching forward. And I did a backflip out of the sidecar. I landed on my head on the asphalt as the gas pump hose arched and danced, spraying gas all over both of the hippos and me.”
    â€œOh no, oh no!” Lisa exclaimed, leaning so far forward that she was about to tip over her coffee cup.
    â€œOh yes, oh yes,” said Juliette, rescuing the coffee cup at the last second. “I saw stars, but picked myself up and started running—well, staggering—after the motorcycle. With both hippos on my heels. I was spitting out gas and yelling for Victor, but he couldn’t seeor hear me, I could see that he was laughing and saying something to the sidecar. He thought I was still sitting in there, and was probably getting a kick out of driving away without paying for the gas.”
    â€œOh no!”
    â€œI thought I was done for. The two hippos were closing in. The one in the coveralls with the cigarette grabbed me by the hair. But then I heard a
poof
, and he was gone.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œCigarette smoking and gasoline, a bad combination. But the other one was closing in. I could hear the coins jingling in his pockets. His heavy, wheezing hippo breathing. And Victor didn’t seem to be slowing down. He was slowly getting farther and farther away.”
    â€œDouble oh no!”
    â€œI was about to give up and then I noticed Victor’s scarf. It was dragging along behind the motorcycle. I felt hippo fingers clutching at my back. With the last of my strength, I dove forward, grabbed the very cornerof Victor’s scarf, and held on for my very life and was pulled away.”
    â€œBut then you were being dragged over the asphalt?”
    â€œYup. The asphalt instantly wore holes in the knees of my pants, and it stung like you wouldn’t believe. So I scrambled up onto my feet and kept the soles of my shoes against the ground so that I was being pulled along behind the motorcycle kind of like if I was on water skis.”
    â€œThat’s the worst thing I’ve ever