Trashed!, page 13
Being in Ramona’s room by himself felt pretty strange. Her bed was unmade, the pink sheets in a tangle, and her pajamas were in a tiny heap on the floor. Arthur caught himself thinking, I shouldn’t be here. He had to remind himself it was her fault in the first place.
Ramona’s room, like Arthur’s, was large. It took strides to reach the dresser, which was next to the window. In the dresser were five drawers, but which one held jammies? His own he kept in the top drawer, so he pulled that one open first and was startled when it made an awful squeak.
Yikes, I’m gonna get caught! he thought. Except there’s no one here to catch me.
And no jammies, either. So he tried the next lower one, and the next, carefully pushing each one closed as he went. T-shirts, jeans, shorts, socks, underwear, now and then a crayon or stuffed animal—everything but jammies.
And no teacup, either.
At last he knelt and yanked open the bottom drawer, which also squeaked.
The dancing-bear teacup was right on top. Ramona hadn’t even bothered to bury it.
Arthur grabbed the teacup, shoved the drawer shut—squeak!—and stood, thrilled to be making his escape.
But when he turned around, his sister was standing in the doorway, wearing her tae kwon do uniform and scowling.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Arthur said, “I thought you were at tae kwon do,” which was dumb, but he was too surprised to say anything smarter.
“I was, but now I’m not,” Ramona said, “and get out of my room.”
“Sure. Fine,” Arthur said, and he tried to hold the teacup so she couldn’t see it, tried to slip past her out the door.
This did not work.
“Wait,” Ramona commanded, stepping sideways to block his exit. “What are you holding? What are you doing in here?”
“Nothing,” Arthur said, “and I can’t leave if you won’t get out of the way.”
“You’re trying to steal that teacup, aren’t you? Give it over.” Ramona held out her hand.
Arthur stopped. “No way. For a fact, it’s mine, and you stole it from me, and you’re not allowed in my room.”
“You’re not allowed in my room either,” Ramona said.
“Good. Fine. I’m leaving!” Arthur tried to get by her again, but she was quick and sturdy. “This is ridiculous, Ramona,” Arthur said. “You know it’s mine, and you know that you and Edie took it. Why are you being stubborn? Why did you go into my room in the first place?”
Ramona was a lot smaller than Arthur. To compensate she yelled and made her face extra mean. Her dark eyebrows were good for that. “To get a pencil, okay?”
Confused, Arthur turned down his volume a notch. “A pencil?” he repeated.
“Yeah!” Ramona said, as loud as ever. “And besides, how did you even know where the teacup was?”
“You said Bluebell’s barn is in your jammie drawer, and you stole the teacup for Bluebell, so that’s how I knew.” Arthur was kind of proud that he’d figured that out.
“Huh,” Ramona said, “but anyway the teacup isn’t really yours. It’s Edie’s. Bluebell is just keeping it for her.”
Arthur didn’t like confrontation. Confrontation was scary, and Arthur wasn’t brave. At least, that’s how he’d always thought of it. Fighting with Ramona now, though, he wasn’t scared. He was more like impatient and wanted to be done.
“Ramona, can we stop fighting for a sec?” he asked.
Ramona looked suspicious. “Why?”
“Because it’s boring? Because I have a question?”
“What question?” Ramona still looked suspicious, but she wasn’t yelling.
“Where did you get this idea that the teacup belongs to Edie?”
“From Edie, duh! She told me.”
“What exactly did she tell you?” Arthur said.
“I don’t have to tell you that,” Ramona said.
“Okay, great,” Arthur said. “So, why did you want one of my pencils, anyway?”
Ramona’s eyebrows rose and fell. She looked confused.
“You said you wanted a pencil?” Arthur said. “That’s why you went into my room, remember?”
“Oh, right,” Ramona said. “Because your pencils are sharper than mine, okay? And Edie and I were going to draw. But then we got out the old jewelry instead, and—”
“Hang on a sec.” Arthur tried to get by her again, and she blocked him, and he thought What the heck and handed over the teacup.
Ramona was so surprised that she fumbled it, but recovered. Then she let him by.
How crazy would it be if the teacup broke? Arthur thought on his way down the hall.
Thirty seconds later he was back in Ramona’s room. “Here.” He gave her a pencil sharpener, the small boxy plastic kind. “I had an extra. Now your pencils will be sharp too.”
Ramona took the sharpener, looked at it as if it were dangerous, and finally said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Arthur said. “So, uh… what did Edie say? Do you mind telling me? Dad gave me the teacup after I found it in the store. So I don’t get—”
“She says she used to play with it, she and Teddy.”
“Teddy?” Arthur repeated.
“You know. Her stuffy,” Ramona said, “her bear.”
“Creative name,” Arthur said.
“She and Teddy played tea party,” Ramona continued, “with her grandmother. And that was her favorite teacup.”
Arthur’s turn to be confused. “So… according to Edie, it’s not actually her teacup—Edie’s teacup.” He was thinking out loud. “It’s Mrs. Merdle’s. Right?”
“Whatever,” Ramona said. “Anyway, it’s not yours.”
Arthur shook his head. “This is all wrong, Mo, and I’ll tell you why. Mrs. Merdle says she never saw a chipped teacup with a dancing bear. She claims it doesn’t exist.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” said Ramona. “It does exist ’cause there it is, so Mrs. Merdle is wrong. Sometimes grown-ups are wrong. I hate to tell you, Arthur, but they are.”
Arthur sighed. “I know. And it’s almost like Mrs. Merdle is lying. But why would she bother to lie about a teacup?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
By the time Arthur left Ramona, they were getting along okay. He had told her what Grandpa said about the teacup—how it disappeared long ago, then came back. She had told him it was okay with Bluebell if he borrowed it. This did not seem like a good time to point out to Ramona that Bluebell was imaginary. Instead he returned to his room and put the cup on the shelf by the Sherlock Holmes books.
“Watson?” he said. “Look what I brought you.”
Arthur was hoping Watson would be grateful that he had gotten her hangout back, that she’d tell him “Good job.” He was also thinking he’d tell the mouse what Ramona had told him about Edie and Teddy and the teacup—see if Watson had any ideas about why Mrs. Merdle might be lying.
But Watson did not answer, didn’t seem to be around.
So now what? Arthur thought.
It was a couple of minutes before noon, an hour before he was supposed to meet Veda. He could do some homework. Or read King Arthur. But really—there wasn’t enough time for either of those, was there?
He looked out the window, and his thoughts turned back to detecting, back to the pearl necklace. He was pretty sure he knew where it was; that’s where he and Veda were going on their bikes. Unfortunately, he would only be able to see the necklace, not get it back right away to give to his grandmother.
Unless…
… he requested backup.
Arthur picked up his phone, looked through his contacts, found what he was looking for, started to send a text, stopped. Maybe this was what his mom would call “inappropriate”? Like, too big an ask?
Plus, maybe if he had help, he wouldn’t get all the credit for being a good detective, for solving the case.
On the other hand it would be so much better actually to hand back Grandma’s pearl necklace, not just tell her he knew where it was. He pictured it like the end of a Sherlock Holmes story, the part where Sherlock tells everyone how he figured everything out. If Arthur had the necklace, that scene would be way cooler.
Arthur counted the cars going by on the busy street outside. When he got to ten—five blue, three black, one white, and one gray—he made his decision.
A couple of minutes later he sent the text.
Almost instantly he got a reply: How nice to hear from you, Arthur. I would be happy to.
* * *
Arthur’s bike was a red three-speed. It came from the store, of course. It was a little too big, but he was used to it, and at 12:59 p.m. he walked it out into the parking lot. Veda was there already, riding in circles and figure eights, waiting for him.
“How do you know Juan didn’t take the pearls?” she asked, not bothering to say hi, not bothering to stop. “And can you please tell Officer Bernstein that?”
“Officer Bernstein,” Arthur repeated. “Wait—what? Why?” He tugged on his helmet, buckled it, and had a terrible thought. “Oh no—did Juan get arrested?”
Veda shook her head. “The only evidence is what your grandpa says, and that’s not real evidence. I mean, right? But my mom is upset. For now she won’t even let Juan work for her. She says it might look bad to the customers.”
“That’s not good,” Arthur said.
“Sí, claro,” Veda said. “She had to turn down a job at this lady Mrs. Hart’s house because she didn’t have enough cleaners, and Mrs. Hart is a regular.”
“Molly Hart?”
“With red hair, that one,” Veda said. “Do you know her?”
“From the store,” Arthur said, “and she’s in my mom’s book group.”
Veda nodded. “I think Mom cleans for everybody in that book group.”
“Huh, that’s funny,” said Arthur, thinking how all of a sudden this book group was everywhere. But then he got a bad feeling. “Veda,” he said, “so would you say Juan cleans for a lot of people in that book group, then? He works a lot for your mom, right?”
Veda shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. Why?”
The bad feeling got worse. “I might have to sit down a sec,” Arthur said, and he did—right on the asphalt.
“Arthur! Get up! Are you okay?”
Arthur didn’t answer right away. One reason why Grandpa thought Juan had stolen the necklace was that Juan had been in their house cleaning right before Grandma had hosted book group. Arthur wasn’t sure when Juan had started cleaning for Veda’s mother. But what if that was a while ago? What if he had been in other book group members’ houses too? Then maybe their jewelry hadn’t disappeared at meetings like Arthur had thought.
What if Grandpa was right, and the thief really was Juan?
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Veda jumped off her bike and let it fall, then bent down next to Arthur. “Get up right now!” she said. “You’re scaring me!”
“Way to be supportive, Darth,” he said weakly.
“Whatever works.” She yanked his arm.
“Ow!” Arthur got to his feet slowly. “I’m okay,” he said, “except for my arm, I mean. I just thought of something, is all.”
“So stop thinking and let’s go. I am a busy person, Arthur.” Veda jumped onto her bike and started riding in circles again. “So, where are we going?”
Arthur adjusted his helmet, then put his hands on the handlebars. “Jumper Jewelers on Pearl Street.”
Veda shook her head, like Whatever, but before she could actually say the word, the back door of the store opened and Ramona came out.
“Hey, wait a sec! Wait! Dad says you have to watch me this afternoon. Ballet’s canceled and he has to go somewhere.”
Arthur’s first thought was, Unbelievable, and his second was, No way, and his third was, Maybe this means we’re not supposed to do this at all.
Arthur didn’t say any of that, though. He said, “Why?”
“He has to meet Mom somewhere. So, where are we going? Hi, Veda.”
“Hi, Mo.”
“Is there, like, an emergency?” Arthur wondered if he was supposed to be worrying about something besides what he was worrying about already.
Ramona shrugged. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t freaking out.”
Arthur saw this for himself when Dad came out the door a second later.
“So, how come I’m in charge of Ramona?” Arthur asked. “Veda and I were on our way, uh…” He realized he couldn’t explain, not yet. Luckily, Dad wasn’t paying that much attention.
“Yeah, sorry.” Dad examined the keys he’d taken from his pocket. “And thanks for entertaining your sister. Grandma sent an SOS, something to do with that fundraiser thing tonight. Prairie dogs, right? It seems they need a truck, and we’ve got one. I’ll be back in a flash, but in the meantime…”
“Can’t Ramona entertain herself?” Arthur argued. “Or isn’t Randolph—”
Dad looked up from his keys. “Bud, could you please just—”
“We got this,” Veda said. Then she looked at Arthur. “We can take the bus.”
Ramona was delighted with this idea, and ten minutes later they were at the bus stop, waiting. The bus from North Boulder to downtown is called the Hop. Arthur had ridden it maybe twice, and Ramona never had. When it came, Veda turned out to be a pro—showed Arthur how to use his phone to pay, and told Ramona she didn’t have to because she wasn’t old enough.
“I should pay. I take up space too.” Ramona sounded insulted.
“If it makes you feel better, you can stand up,” Arthur said.
“I can? Cool!” Ramona smiled and looked out the window, like she was on a ride at a theme park.
It’s not only grown-ups that are weird, Arthur thought. First graders are too.
“So what is it we’re doing again?” Veda asked on the way.
“I’ll explain,” Arthur said, “if we find the necklace.”
“What necklace?” Ramona asked. “Grandma’s necklace?”
Arthur ignored her.
“So we’re looking for a necklace at Jumper Jewelers,” Veda said.
“Yes,” Arthur said.
“And if we find it, it proves Juan is innocent,” Veda said.
“What necklace?” Ramona repeated.
“Yes,” Arthur said. “That is, I think. I hope.”
Only, what if instead it proves that Juan did it?
“And that’s all you’re going to tell me?” Veda said.
“For right now,” Arthur said. “Or else for about ten years. Because if it’s not there, it will be ten years till I’m not too embarrassed to ever bring it up.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The bus dropped Arthur, Veda, and Ramona off at the Pearl Street Mall, which is the cute part of Boulder—the part tourists see when they take a break from hiking and climbing. Jumper Jewelers is on the mall part of Pearl, the part closed to cars and paved with brick instead of asphalt. Most of the buildings on the mall are at least a hundred years old.
Arthur had been to some of the restaurants there before. He’d been to all three ice cream places and both candy stores, but he had never been to Jumper Jewelers—or any jewelry store, come to think of it. Stepping off the bus, he was glad Veda was with him.
Then there was Ramona.
Oh well. It wasn’t likely she’d mess anything up. He doubted she’d even talk.
The store was a block away from the bus stop. Before they went inside, they checked out the windows, shiny with diamonds, opals, rubies, and topazes set in gold, platinum, and silver. At Universal Trash, all the jewelry was packed tight in a single glass case. Here in these windows it was spread out, each piece on its own, each one announcing how special it was.
Veda called the windows “tasteful,” and added, “Can we get ice cream after? If we find the necklace, it’ll be celebrating. And if we don’t, it’ll make us feel better.”
“Mango, please,” Ramona said.
“Did you bring money?” Arthur asked his sister.
Veda said, “I’ll treat,” before Ramona could answer, and right away Arthur felt bad.
“No, I will,” he said. “You’re doing me a favor, Darth.”
“What about me?” Ramona wanted to know.
“I am doing Dad a favor,” Arthur said. “But I guess I can buy you ice cream.”
Ramona said, “Mango, please,” then looked up at him. “Your face is funny, you know.”
Arthur was feeling a flutter in his belly. This could all go super wrong, he realized. “Not as funny as yours, Ramona. Come on. Let’s go.”
Veda pushed open the glass entrance door. Inside were three customers, two of them looking around on their own, one talking to a saleswoman who was wearing a skirt and blazer. They were speaking quietly, as if jewelry deserved respect. In fact, the whole store felt that way, almost like church.
“Good afternoon.” A blond saleswoman wearing nice clothes and pink lipstick approached them. “May I help you?” Her voice was friendly, and her smile seemed sincere. Good at customer service, Arthur thought.
“Yes.” Arthur squared his shoulders, went all customer-service himself. “My friend and I would like to see the vintage jewelry.”
“Your friend and you and your sister,” Ramona said.
The saleswoman smiled like Isn’t she cute?—didn’t see Ramona scowl and stick her tongue out. “If you’ll follow me,” the saleswoman said. “We have some lovely pieces. Are you looking for a gift?”
Arthur, Veda, and Ramona followed her toward a counter near the back of the store. Unlike the other displays, the tasteful ones, this one shone abundantly. It was not packed quite as tight as the case at Universal Trash, but almost. If his grandmother’s necklace was even there, finding it was going to be like finding Waldo. Arthur expected they would have to study the jewelry piece by piece by piece for a long time.
