Hamish X and the Cheese Pirates by Sean Cullen Read Free Book Online Page A

there waiting for me.”
    â€œYeah, ya said that before.” Mimi shook her head. “Yer like a broken record.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I don’t mean to …”
    He faltered when he saw a light down below him. In the darkness it bobbed along the flat roof, coming closer to where the lines holding the kites were moored. As the source of the light approached Hamish and Mimi could make out Parveen’s face in the glow cast by a lamp strapped to his head. He was carrying a bucket. When he reached the mooring lines he looked up at Mimi and Hamish, his round glasses glinting in the glare of his headlamp.
    â€œHello,” he waved. “My name is Parveen.”
    â€œI’m Hamish X,” Hamish X answered with a wave.

    â€œRight. So you say.” Parveen raised a critical eyebrow. Then he raised his hand to show a steaming bucket. “I have brought you some dinner.”
    â€œHow did ya manage to get up here?” Mimi asked.
    â€œMrs. Francis was worried, so she sneaked out some food for you.” Parveen set the bucket down. And pulled two bowls out of his baggy overalls pocket. Two spoons followed the bowls. “The guards were asleep, so getting up here was no problem. Mrs. Francis used her keycard on the locks. She says to tell you she’s sorry for reporting you to Master Viggo, but she was most concerned that you might injure each other.”
    â€œI appreciate your effort Parveen, and the kindness of Mrs. Francis,” said Hamish, tugging at his tether, “but we’re a bit tied up.”
    â€œLeave it to me,” Parveen called. He set the bowls down and rummaged in his pockets again. From several pockets, small and large, he produced little bits of metal, hooks, and pieces of wood.
    â€œWhat’s he doing?” Hamish asked Mimi.
    â€œHe does this sorta thing all the time,” she answered. “He’s good with his hands.”
    A few minutes later, Parveen stood up. In each hand he held a strange object: a boxlike frame of sticks with a hook sticking out of the top. Each one had a little sail made out of knotted handkerchiefs. He took the bowls and laid each one into a frame where it fit snugly. That done, he tipped the bucket of steaming porridge, filling first one bowl, then the other. He stuck a spoon into each bowl, lifted them by the hooks, and placed the hooks over the tethers holding Mimi and Hamish in place.
    Immediately, the handkerchief billowed out like a sail in the wind and the frame carrying the bowl shot up thetether into Mimi’s and Hamish X’s waiting hands.
    â€œWould you look at that,” Hamish X exclaimed.
    â€œLike I told ya,” Mimi said. “He’s good with his hands.”
    â€œThanks!” she called and hungrily tucked into the porridge.
    â€œThanks,” Hamish called.
    Parveen pushed his glasses up on his nose with his index finger and looked at Hamish X. Suddenly, he asked, “How old are you?”
    Hamish X shrugged, almost spinning out of control. “I … don’t really know.”
    Parveen stared at Hamish X for a little longer. At last, he picked up the bucket and headed for the door.
    â€œWait,” shouted Mimi. “What should we do with the bowls when we’re done?”
    Parveen flapped his hand dismissively. “Just let go of them and the wind will do the rest.” Then he disappeared through the doorway.
    Hamish and Mimi ate their porridge as they dangled in the howling wind, warmer and happier than they’d expected to be. When the porridge was gone, they tossed the bowls with their ingenious frames into the wind. The wind whisked the bowls up and out of sight in an instant.
    â€œClever,” said Hamish.
    â€œToo right,” said Mimi.
    Hamish watched the bowls disappear into the darkness. “I wonder …” he mused.
    â€œWonder what?” Mimi demanded.
    â€œOh, nothing,” he smiled at her.
    â€œIt’s your