Amos and the Chameleon Caper by Gary Paulsen Read Free Book Online

Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper sat on the edge of one of the stiff, molded plastic seats at the bus station in Des Moines watching his best friend for life, Amos Binder, pace the floor in front of him.
    “Cheer up, Amos. It can’t be that bad.”
    “You haven’t met her. My cousin Tiffany is a pain. She’ll want us to have tea parties and play dolls with her. And another thing—she cries all the time. You never met a bigger sissy.”
    Dunc watched a bag lady poking through the trash can near the door of the bus depot. He pulled his suitcase a littlecloser and turned to Amos. “It’s been a few years since you’ve seen her. Maybe things have changed.”
    Amos put his hands in his pockets. “I doubt it. Tiffany’s family is in the process of moving to Washington. They only invited us down here to hold her hand while they get everything settled. Boy, am I glad your parents said you could come with me. Imagine—spending the whole spring break taking care of Tiffany by myself.”
    “I don’t understand. I thought you said Tiffany was the same age as us.”
    “She is, but wait till you see her. She can’t even go to the bathroom without an escort.”
    “If you feel that way, why didn’t you just tell your parents you didn’t want to come?”
    Amos sat down. “They didn’t give me that option. My dad was still sore about the ice cream.”
    “Ice cream?” Dunc raised one eyebrow.
    “Yeah. He’d been after me for a few months to rake the front lawn, so outof the goodness of my heart—and also because he was withholding my allowance—I decided to rake the leaves last Saturday.”
    “What happened?”
    “About noon, I heard Sergio’s ice cream truck coming down the block. I’d been working steady for a good ten minutes, so I thought I’d buy me a triple decker and take a short break.”
    “Your dad was mad because you took a break?”
    “No. He was mostly mad about the hole in Mrs. Johnson’s windshield.”
    Dunc sighed and waited.
    “I was all set to order—one scoop of pistachio nut, one of marshmallow fudge, and one scoop of my favorite, pizza swirl supreme. But when I got close, a telephone rang from somewhere inside the truck. I was pretty sure it was Melissa calling to ask my opinion about that deranged Australian dude we have to write about in English. What’s his name?”
    Dunc knew that Melissa Hansen was Amos’s one and only true love. For yearsAmos had tried everything he could think of to impress her. Nothing ever seemed to work out. Not even hiring a mariachi band and standing in front of her house waving a fluorescent HELLO MELISSA banner. If anything, she was less aware of him now than before. Dunc also knew that if Amos were the last human on earth, Melissa still wouldn’t call him about an English assignment—especially in an ice cream truck.
    Dunc sighed. “The paper was on Hitler, Amos, and he was Austrian, not Australian. And it wasn’t an English assignment, it was for history class. Oh, and just in case you’re thinking about doing it, it was due last Wednesday.”
    “That’s the one. Anyway, I didn’t want to bother Sergio, because he was busy waiting on some little kids. So I ran around and jumped in the passenger side to answer it for him. Melissa likes me to get it on that all-important first ring, you know.”
    Dunc nodded. He had given up trying to tell Amos that Melissa could care lesswhat ring he answered it on, since she never called him anyway. Amos could be stubborn about things like that.
    “I had plenty of time and probably would have made it, but I forgot I still had the rake in my hand. When I reached inside I accidentally hit the brake release with the handle, and the truck started rolling down that little hill in front of our house and stopped in front of the Johnsons’.”
    “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
    “The truck stopped when it rammed Mrs. Johnson’s new car. And you know that fake ice cream cone Sergio used to have on the top of his