Finding Elmo by Monique Polak Read Free Book Online Page A

stairwell.
    The word “heist” got my attention. Could they be talking about Elmo?
    The hammering had started up again.
Rat-tat-tat
. I’d have to get closer if I wanted to keep listening in.
    â€œLook,” said the man whose name I didn’t know, “the deal fell through. When Boss phoned yesterday, he said he’d have news soon. Said he thought we’d be outta here by the end of the week. On a plane to—”
    The hammering got louder. I hadn’t heard where they were going or what the heist was all about.
    For a second, I saw myself the way someone like Lyle might see me if he found me here. Some kid crouched in the corner of a hallway, listening in on someone else’s conversation. I shivered.
    The hammering stopped and with it, the conversation. But then I heard more noise from behind the door. They’d turned on a TV, and I could hear the laugh track from some sitcom. But there was another noise too. A faint noise I could just make out.
    Squawking.
    My throat felt tight, like I was wearing a shirt buttoned up too high. It sounded like Elmo’s squawk, only weaker. Wheezier. Sadder.
    Part of me wanted to barge in right then. But then I remembered Mr. Singh’s advice and the way Lyle had punched the wall. One step at a time, I told myself.
    The men were talking again. “The bird’s still squawking. That’s a good sign, at least,” the second guy said.
    â€œIt’s a wonder,” said Lyle. “Considering he hasn’t had a thing to eat since we took him.”
    I tried to swallow, but it felt like something was stuck in my throat. Did I hear right? Elmo hadn’t had a thing to eat since they’d taken him—nearly four days ago? Didn’t they know a bird Elmo’s size could die if he went without food for that long?

chapter twelve
    I had to find a way inside.
    I thought about knocking and telling them I was selling chocolate bars for school. But I didn’t have chocolate bars and school had been over since June.
    Then I got the idea of trying to break in through the room next door. If I could get in there, I might be able to climb onto the scaffolding and reach Elmo.
    When I tried the handle it opened. Just like that.
    There wasn’t much to see inside. Bare walls and a concrete floor that felt cold, even through my sneakers. My eyes went straight to the back window and the scaffolding outside.
    I was crossing the room when I overheard the birdnappers again. I tiptoed to the common wall to hear better.
    â€œBoss told us not to leave the bird alone,” the guy whose name I didn’t know was saying.
    â€œBoss this. Boss that. You sound like a friggin’ parrot. I say we’ve been cooped up here long enough. Time to spread our wings. Besides, I’ve had it with leftover pizza.” Lyle made a belching sound.
    â€œWhat about the bird?” the other guy asked. “The doors don’t lock. Maybe I should stay here.”
    My breathing quickened. If they left, I might be able to get Elmo. And I might not have to climb onto the scaffolding.
    â€œWhat do you think the bird’s gonna do? Fly home? Bird’s in a cage, you doofus.” I heard Lyle slap his thigh.
    â€œAll right, all right. Remember that vegetable curry Boss brought us? It came from this Indian joint in the food court next door. Little guy there is supposed to make a mean butter chicken. How’s that sound?”
    Lyle belched again. I figured that meant yes.
    Way to go, Mr. Singh, I thought as I crouched by the door, waiting for the two thugs to leave.
    When I heard the door close behind them, I made myself count to two hundred—slowly. What if they heard me from downstairs? What if one of them had forgotten something?
    Once I reached two hundred, I headed next door, still keeping very quiet. I’d heard more hammering, and I didn’t need the workers getting suspicious.
    This room was bigger than the one I’d been