Fleabrain Loves Franny by Joanne Rocklin Read Free Book Online Page B

Rose.
    Across the street, Teresa was yowling like a cat. “NO-O-o-o, Rose!”
    Franny leaned forward and held out her hand. Rose dropped the cola caps into Franny’s cupped palm, and Franny touched them, one by one, with the tip of her finger.
    â€œA super-duper addition to the Collection,” Franny said.
    â€œI know,” said Rose, reaching for them.
    â€œROSE!” shrieked Teresa, racing across the street.
    Teresa was known for her shrieks, a peculiar source of pride. With the proper training, operatic singing was in her future, she liked to tell everyone. Franny was used to Teresa’s shrieks. But this particular shriek was so vehement, it startled Franny. The three cola caps fell from her hand, skipping down the stairs.
    â€œRoseyouarenottotouchthosecolacapsdoyouhearme!” shrieked Teresa. “Don’tyoudarethey’recoveredwithGERMS!”
    â€œI’m not contagious!” Franny shrieked back.
    â€œYou are, too!”
    â€œI’m not! I’m not! And very soon I’ll be walking again. I’ll be back in the swing of things. You’ll see!”
    By this time Teresa was sitting on Rose’s bottom, who was struggling to reach the scattered cola caps on the front walk. Rose’s shrieks, because apparently volume ran in the family, were almost as loud as her sister’s.
    â€œI want those bottle caps! I found them! They’re mine!”
    â€œShe touched them!”
    â€œI want those caps!”
    â€œRose, if you don’t stop this, I’m going to tell everybody your big secret! I swear! I will!”
    At that, Rose stopped her thrashing about but not her howling. Teresa stayed put on top of her.
    All of a sudden, glowering, grumpy Professor Doctor Gutman was standing over the sisters. His black bristly eyebrows (not the kindly variety, like Sister Ed’s) were raised in mighty disapproval.
    â€œWhat is this ruckus?” Professor Doctor Gutman said. He turned to Teresa. “You’re bigger than she is, young lady.”
    Professor Doctor Gutman’s deep, rumbly voice sounded like a king’s, or an army troop commander’s. Rose quieted mid-howl. Teresa stood up, then kicked the bottle caps to the curb.
    Walter Walter and Seymour Walter moseyed across the street to witness the action.
    â€œLife is too short for angry roughhousing.” Professor DoctorGutman’s
r
’s sounded gravelly and moist, as if they were coming from deep inside of him.
    â€œHey, where were you born, anyway?” asked Seymour.
    â€œIn Prague, a beautiful city in Czechoslovakia,” Professor Doctor Gutman replied. His eyes were bright and blue, like the European mountain lakes Franny had seen in her geography book,
Earth and Its Continents
. But his eyes were sad, too. Franny realized he’d been sad, not grouchy, all those other times she’d seen him.
    â€œWait a minute!” said Seymour. “That’s enemy territory!”
    â€œIt used to be occupied territory, yes,” said Professor Doctor Gutman. “But that war is over. And its people aren’t your enemy.”
    All of a sudden Seymour looked fierce, as if the sound of his own voice had made him brave. “My parents said you’re probably a spy.”
    The rest of the Pack sucked in their breaths at Seymour’s rudeness.
    â€œAnd not even a doctor,” Seymour continued.
    â€œI am not a practicing physician, no,” said Professor Doctor Gutman, smiling politely. “I am a researcher. And I am happy to be in America.”
    â€œYou have your own lab?” Walter Walter asked. “With rats and graph paper and all that?”
    â€œIt’s not my own lab, and we use monkeys for our experiments, not rodents,” said Professor Doctor Gutman. “We have been known to use graph paper, however.”
    â€œResearchers are just another kind of doctor, Seymour,” said Walter Walter.
    â€œPipe down, noodlehead,” said