2 Digging Up Dirt by Gale Borger Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gale Borger
our customers this year. Come on over and dig in!"
Spaz stashed her backpack and picked up a tray.
Chapter 2
"Man, what do you think was up with Spaz?" Bean tore at the weeds poking up between the neat rows of vegetables.
Shroom grinned. "Don't know, yo . Maybe she got a good look at your face." He wiped his nose and shoved the spade into the earth. "Hey, White Boy, bring me some of that rotten crap so I can mix it up over here."
Cash looked up from his place at the compost pile. "This ain't rotten crap. It's compost. You make it on purpose to make the soil better."
Bean looked up from what they called "The Garden of Weeden." He walked over to the compost pile and helped Cash fill the wheelbarrow.
"Yeah, Shroom. Compost is made up of veggies, eggshells, coffee grounds-anything but animal, fats, oils, or dairy. Then you mix it in a pile with leaves, grass clippings, straw, twigs, and weeds–anything brown or green. You water the pile and turn it over and over so air gets in. The pile heats up. Everything breaks down. The heat kills the weed seeds. Ya keep the pile damp and keep turning it. When it's done cooking, it looks like this and doesn't smell."
Shroom tossed a shovel of dirt to the side. "Yeah, whatever, Mr. Science. Quit showing off and bring me more rotten crap."
Bean sighed. "I can't win."
Cash laughed. "You never will with him. You don't come from his world. He sees you as the enemy."
"We're doing community service together. We've lived in the same house for over two months now."
Cash tossed a scoop of compost into the wheelbarrow. "It doesn't matter. Shroom is mad we are investigating that dead chick we found in the alley. He thinks we should stay away from it. He doesn't trust anyone. Not the cops. Not even us."
Shroom stood and leaned his arms on his shovel. "That's right, White Boy." He swiped his shirt over his sweaty face. "You and Einstein over there are gonna get yourselves thrown back in jail, man. You be messin' with the wrong crowd. Those rich white cats up there are gonna have you punks for breakfast–and for what? To try to pin the murder of a street ho on one of 'em? They'll get some fancy lawyer and you'll rot in jail."
Bean looked at Cash. "Well, put that way, it does sound pretty stupid."
Pone walked around the corner of the Olive Branch work truck. He read from a piece of paper. "The way I got it figured, the rich guy will never see us coming. We can pose as lawn care guys and see how much snooping we can do. Hunnicut will never know we're there."
"Wait just a minute!" Shroom stomped up to the other three. He shoved an index finger in Cash's face. "You're going to make him look like a lawn care guy? Hah! You might as well dress me up like a prom queen! I think my tattoos will be a nice touch."
Pone and Bean looked Cash up and down. Shroom smirked and backed up.
Pone plucked at Cash's polo shirt. "The shirt's gotta go."
Bean nodded. "The hair. Get rid of the Ken doll hair. Maybe if he grew some scruff."
Pone pointed to his head. "Got to lose those $800.00 sunglasses."
Shroom stepped forward. "Hand 'em over. I'll take them off your hands."
Cash snatched the sunglasses off his head. "No way, man. You aren't even on this team. You're too scared of the cops to help, remember ?"
Shroom tilted his head and gave them a sly smile. "However, I can be bought. For a pair of those Trons, I could make a pretty convincing lawn guy. Just think. Being Mexican, I can go places you white boys couldn't even think of going."
Pone sneered. "Yeah, us white boys . Cut the crap, Shroom."
Shroom laughed aloud. "Sorry, Pone. But sometimes you be more like them white boys than my nigga."
Bean grinned widely. "Or it could be I'm just more like a ni…n… you know , than a white boy!"
The other three looked at Bean and laughed. "No way, man!"
The four of them discussed how to make Cash look like a lawn guy. First, they took away his docksiders.
Shroom commented, "You don't need no fancy boating
Spaz stashed her backpack and picked up a tray.
Chapter 2
"Man, what do you think was up with Spaz?" Bean tore at the weeds poking up between the neat rows of vegetables.
Shroom grinned. "Don't know, yo . Maybe she got a good look at your face." He wiped his nose and shoved the spade into the earth. "Hey, White Boy, bring me some of that rotten crap so I can mix it up over here."
Cash looked up from his place at the compost pile. "This ain't rotten crap. It's compost. You make it on purpose to make the soil better."
Bean looked up from what they called "The Garden of Weeden." He walked over to the compost pile and helped Cash fill the wheelbarrow.
"Yeah, Shroom. Compost is made up of veggies, eggshells, coffee grounds-anything but animal, fats, oils, or dairy. Then you mix it in a pile with leaves, grass clippings, straw, twigs, and weeds–anything brown or green. You water the pile and turn it over and over so air gets in. The pile heats up. Everything breaks down. The heat kills the weed seeds. Ya keep the pile damp and keep turning it. When it's done cooking, it looks like this and doesn't smell."
Shroom tossed a shovel of dirt to the side. "Yeah, whatever, Mr. Science. Quit showing off and bring me more rotten crap."
Bean sighed. "I can't win."
Cash laughed. "You never will with him. You don't come from his world. He sees you as the enemy."
"We're doing community service together. We've lived in the same house for over two months now."
Cash tossed a scoop of compost into the wheelbarrow. "It doesn't matter. Shroom is mad we are investigating that dead chick we found in the alley. He thinks we should stay away from it. He doesn't trust anyone. Not the cops. Not even us."
Shroom stood and leaned his arms on his shovel. "That's right, White Boy." He swiped his shirt over his sweaty face. "You and Einstein over there are gonna get yourselves thrown back in jail, man. You be messin' with the wrong crowd. Those rich white cats up there are gonna have you punks for breakfast–and for what? To try to pin the murder of a street ho on one of 'em? They'll get some fancy lawyer and you'll rot in jail."
Bean looked at Cash. "Well, put that way, it does sound pretty stupid."
Pone walked around the corner of the Olive Branch work truck. He read from a piece of paper. "The way I got it figured, the rich guy will never see us coming. We can pose as lawn care guys and see how much snooping we can do. Hunnicut will never know we're there."
"Wait just a minute!" Shroom stomped up to the other three. He shoved an index finger in Cash's face. "You're going to make him look like a lawn care guy? Hah! You might as well dress me up like a prom queen! I think my tattoos will be a nice touch."
Pone and Bean looked Cash up and down. Shroom smirked and backed up.
Pone plucked at Cash's polo shirt. "The shirt's gotta go."
Bean nodded. "The hair. Get rid of the Ken doll hair. Maybe if he grew some scruff."
Pone pointed to his head. "Got to lose those $800.00 sunglasses."
Shroom stepped forward. "Hand 'em over. I'll take them off your hands."
Cash snatched the sunglasses off his head. "No way, man. You aren't even on this team. You're too scared of the cops to help, remember ?"
Shroom tilted his head and gave them a sly smile. "However, I can be bought. For a pair of those Trons, I could make a pretty convincing lawn guy. Just think. Being Mexican, I can go places you white boys couldn't even think of going."
Pone sneered. "Yeah, us white boys . Cut the crap, Shroom."
Shroom laughed aloud. "Sorry, Pone. But sometimes you be more like them white boys than my nigga."
Bean grinned widely. "Or it could be I'm just more like a ni…n… you know , than a white boy!"
The other three looked at Bean and laughed. "No way, man!"
The four of them discussed how to make Cash look like a lawn guy. First, they took away his docksiders.
Shroom commented, "You don't need no fancy boating
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