The Sasquatch Escape (The Imaginary Veterinary) (3 page)

Dinner was pretty good. The potatoes were creamy and the brisket wasn’t too dry. The pickles were served right out of the jar, and the soda was sipped straight from the can. “No need for glasses,” Grandpa Abe explained. “Glasses need to be washed, and I don’t like doing dishes.” He nodded toward the stack of dirty dishes that towered in the sink.

Grandpa Abe didn’t seem to care about manners. He chewed loudly, scraping the last bits of food right off his plate and into his mouth. After a loud burp, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Ben looked around. Napkins didn’t appear to be a part of Grandpa Abe’s world, so Ben wiped his mouth on his sleeve, too.

“Let’s go sit on the porch and count the stars,” Grandpa Abe said as he reached for his cane. “And maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of that bird, the one as big as a helicopter.” He winked at Ben, clearly still believing that the bird had come from Ben’s imagination.

As Ben carried his plate to the sink, he pictured the blond girl.
Dragon
, she’d mouthed. Ben frowned.
He didn’t think for an instant that the rope-tailed bird was actually a dragon. Dragons weren’t real. Dragons were stories. And he knew all about stories.

But the bird was something, and if not a dragon, then what?

G
rab some breakfast,” Grandpa Abe said the next morning as he pointed to a box of doughnuts. “We’ve got errands to run.”

Doughnuts for breakfast? Back home, Ben always had oatmeal with bananas or whole-grain cereal. “Thanks.” He took a powdered-sugar bite.

“You’d better keep your bedroom door shut. Barnaby’s on the prowl.”

Ben hadn’t yet seen Barnaby the cat, but he’d imagined him to be a gigantic killer with fangs and glowing red eyes. He checked on Snooze, who was
asleep as usual. Then he shut the bedroom door and followed his grandfather out to the car.

Although Ben still didn’t want to spend an entire summer in Buttonville, he decided, as he munched on the doughnut, that things weren’t all that bad. His grandfather hadn’t made him take a shower that morning and hadn’t asked a bunch of questions like, “Did you brush
and
floss? Did you put on
clean
socks? Did you take your vitamins?” Since Grandpa Abe was wearing the same clothes he’d worn when he’d picked Ben up at the airport, Ben decided to wear yesterday’s clothes, too. He never got to do that at home.

But to Ben’s disappointment, Buttonville’s Main Street looked just as threadbare in the daylight as it had the night before—maybe worse because now all the flaking paint, broken windows, and cracked sidewalks could be seen. A pair of old men sat on a bench outside the Buttonville Hardware Store. They waved as Grandpa Abe drove past. Grandpa Abe waved back. A woman washing the windows of the Buttonville Diner also waved. Grandpa Abe waved back. The girl with the long blond hair who’d been leaning out the window last night was now standing outside the Dollar Store, a broom in her hand. She didn’t wave, but she watched intently as Grandpa Abe parked the car.

“So? What will you want for dinner?” Grandpa Abe asked, pulling a canvas hat out of the glove compartment and setting it on his bald head. “How about a nice brisket? You like a nice brisket? They make a nice ready-to-eat brisket at the market.”

Ben didn’t point out that they’d had brisket the night before. He was watching the girl across
the street, and she appeared to be watching him.

“Did you swallow your tongue again?” Grandpa Abe asked.

“Sorry,” Ben said. “Sure, I like brisket.”

“Then brisket it is.” Clutching his cane, Grandpa Abe struggled out of the car. Ben hurried around to the driver’s side to help him. “Looks like Pearl Petal is coming this way,” Grandpa Abe said with a slight nod of his head. The blond girl was crossing the street, still clutching the broom. “She’s a nice girl, that Pearl, but a bit of a troublemaker. Watch yourself.” The tip of his wooden cane tapped against the sidewalk as Grandpa Abe headed into the Food 4 Less Market.

Pearl was fast. She was like one of those professional speed-walkers, the way she swung her arms, the heels of her sneakers barely touching the ground, the hem of her green Dollar Store apron flapping against her knees.

“What do you think that thing was?” she asked after she’d come to a halt directly in front of Ben. A big, wide gap sat between her two front teeth. Her
cheeks were pinkish and her eyes bright green. She leaned so close he could smell her cherry lip balm.

“Uh…” Ben paused. Then he stepped back. Did this girl know anything about personal space? “What thing?” He knew perfectly well
what thing
, but he didn’t know what else to say.

She straightened, which made her a whole head taller than Ben. “That thing, last night in the sky. What do you think it was?”

It sure looked like a dragon
, he thought. But he didn’t say that out loud. “Maybe it was a bird?”

“A bird?” She screwed up her face. “But it was huge, and it had a long tail. You really think that thing was a bird? Don’t you think it looked like a dragon?”

“Dragons aren’t real.”

She shrugged. “Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. Hey, what’s your name?”

“Ben Silverstein.”

“I’m Pearl Petal. What are you doing in Buttonville, Ben Silverstein?”

“I’m visiting my grandfather for the summer.”

“The whole summer? Your parents sent you to this boring town for the whole summer? Are they mad at you or something?”

Ben chewed on his lower lip as he thought about making up a story. He could tell Pearl that his parents had sent him to Buttonville because they were secret agents and they had to go on a dangerous mission. Or he could tell her that his parents were astronauts and they were headed to Mars for the summer. There were lots of stories that were more interesting than the truth—that his parents were having troubles and arguing all the time. Ben didn’t want to tell anyone the truth, especially not a girl he barely knew.

“You sure wear fancy clothes,” Pearl said. “I get most of my clothes from the Dollar Store. These shorts only cost a dollar.” She pointed to her shiny red basketball shorts, which hung below her knees. Ben didn’t know how much his brand-new jeans had cost, but his mom had ordered them from a catalog. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No,” Ben replied.

“Me neither. It’s just me and my mom and dad. But my great-aunt Gladys, who has trouble remembering things, lives in our basement. She smells like menthol cough drops. Most of the people around here are old like Aunt Gladys. That’s because a lot of families moved away so they could find jobs, and they took their kids with them.” She took a quick breath. “There’s this one girl who still lives here named Victoria, but stay away from her because she can’t keep a secret. Believe me, I learned the hard way. I told Victoria that I’d found a nest of baby raccoons under my house and that I was feeding them table scraps, and Victoria told my mom and I got into huge trouble.”

This girl sure likes to talk
. “I need to go help my grandfather. He’s in the store.” Ben tried to walk away, but Pearl stepped in front of him.

“You really think it was a bird?” she asked, lowering her voice. She leaned on the broom and stared at him.

No, he did not think it was a bird. Ben Silverstein was no dummy. He knew what he’d seen. But never in a million years would he admit it. That would be like admitting he’d seen the tooth fairy.

“I saw it before,” Pearl said. “Last week I saw it land on the roof of the old button factory. I think it lives there.” Then she smiled. “I’m going to investigate later. Wanna join me?”

Grandpa Abe’s words replayed in Ben’s head.
She’s a nice girl, that Pearl, but a bit of a troublemaker. Watch yourself
. Ben didn’t want trouble. He wanted to go home.

“I can’t go,” Ben told her. “I need to help my grandfather…make brisket.”

Pearl frowned. “What are you going to do after you make brisket?”

“Eat it.”

“And then what?”

Ben shrugged. “I’ll do
something
.”

“Well, just so you know, there’s
nothing
to do in this boring town.” She pulled a stick of gum from her apron pocket and began to chew. She offered
him a stick of gum, but he politely shook his head. “The bowling alley closed, and the movie theater only shows movies on Friday night. We don’t even have a swimming pool, unless you count the plastic pool over at the senior center, but it’s no fun because the seniors yell at you if you splash.”

No swimming pool? Back home, Ben had a pool in his backyard. All his friends had pools in their backyards.

“Well, if you change your mind”—she pointed to the embroidered words on her apron:
YOU GET MORE AT THE DOLLAR STORE
—“my family lives above the store. If you see any more
birds
, let me know.” She swept a white button into the street drain, then headed back across the intersection.

If the town was as boring as Pearl said, this was going to be a long, uneventful summer.