Free The Chameleon Wore Chartreuse by Bruce Hale Page A

Herman.

    And most first graders would rather spend summer vacation in a box with the bogeyman than spend a few friendly minutes with Herman the Gila Monster.
    It was going to be a long day.

2 Sing a Song of Stinkbug Pie
    If you've never met a Gila monster, let me tell you: They are tough customers. They're big, strong, and dumb, and they have really bad breath. Seriously. You wouldn't want to kiss one.

    Oh, and one other thing: They're poisonous.
    Of course, I didn't tell Shirley her little brother had gone to meet a poisonous goon the size of a refrigerator. Instead I said, "Herman, huh? Do any of Billy's little friends know Herman?"
    One of Shirley's eyes rolled back as she thought about it. The other eye kept looking at the ground. I shuddered. What a creepy habit.
    But then, we geckos lose our tails sometimes, so I guess I shouldn't talk.
    "Billy
has
been hanging out with the Rat Sisters lately," she said. "Maybe they'd know about Herman."

    The Rat Sisters are a couple of sweet girls who like to pull the wings off flies and make umbrellas with them. With the wings, I mean. I made a note to see the Rat Sisters at lunch.
    And thinking of lunch reminded me of my fee.
    "Will you take the case?" Shirley asked.
    "That depends," I said. "Can you afford me? I get a hundred bucks a day, plus expenses." I had read that in a detective book somewhere.
    Shirley coughed. "I can afford fifty cents a day," she said.
    "Shirley, you jest," I replied.
    Shirley groaned. My stomach grumbled.
    "Look," she said. "My dad is a good cook. Maybe I could just feed you lunch for a week."
    I raised an eyebrow. "Your
dad?
"
    "What's so funny about that? Some of the world's best chefs are men, and—"
    "All right, all right, it's a deal," I said.
    Shirley beamed. "We're having stinkbug pie for dessert tonight. I'll bring you leftovers tomorrow—if you find Billy in time."
    My stomach growled. "I'll get right on the case," I said.
    I stood up to go, and stepped around the aquarium. But just then, Old Man Ratnose glared at me from his desk at the front of the room.

    Oh yeah. School.
    "Chet Gecko, where is your reading book?" he demanded.
    "Teacher, it's a mystery to me," I said. Mr. Ratnose bared his front teeth. I whispered to Shirley, "I'll start at recess."
    "Oh, thank you, Chet," she said.
    She kissed my cheek. Then Shirley turned and wriggled back to her desk.
    I wiped the cooties off my cheek. Dames. What's a guy supposed to do?

3 Green Blobs of Fate
    The bell rang. Recess. I strolled down the hall to Billy's classroom. Screaming first graders tumbled over each other, racing out the door toward the playground.

    They were headed for swings and slides. Those carefree kids.
    I had bigger bugs to fry.
    I had to get a look at Billy's desk. It could hold a clue to his disappearance—or a wad of forgotten homework and moldy socks.
    Only a true detective could tell.
    I hid behind a razzleberry bush and waited for the teacher to leave. There she was: the great horned toad, Mrs. Toaden—Old Toady to those who had survived her class.
    Years ago kids used to whisper that she rolled in the vats of Jell-O before the cafeteria served it.

    Nothing was ever proved. But you couldn't help wondering about the green blobs on her dress.
    "Come along, you little runt!" said Mrs. Toaden to a straggling first grader.
    "Yes, teacher. I'm coming." The little shrew fumbled with his book bag.
    But he wasn't moving fast enough, I guess. She gave him a friendly punt to speed him up. The kid sailed between two of the posts that lined the covered walkway. Field goal.
    Sooner or later he would learn. Never stand between a teacher and her Jell-O.
    Old Toady trundled off. I eased toward the door, with a wary eye on Mrs. Toaden. Just as I reached for the doorknob, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned around.
    Fa-zip!
I barely had time to scramble up the wall, out of sight. Sometimes it pays to be a lizard.
    Old Toady waddled back to the classroom like a duck