Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief by Wendelin Van Draanen Read Free Book Online

when you smoked in his store.”
    â€œGet out of here, would you?”
    Gina laughs, “I’m gone,” and flows out the door, trailing smoke.
    T.J. shakes his head, then glares at us. “You two gonna buy something, or what?”
    Marissa whispers, “Let’s go try and find Oscar, okay?”
    I nod, so T.J. says, “Well then get out of here. Scram!” He picks up the phone. “I’ve had enough female chat for a while.”
    *                  *                  *
    Oscar’s usually not too hard to find. He follows the same path every day; it’s sort of a figure eight around the mall and up through the neighborhoods near St. Mary’s Church. Once you get to know Oscar you’ve got to like him. He’s just amazing, the way he pushes that cart of his around and sells ice cream to people. See, Oscar’s blind.
    Now not only is Oscar blind, he’s also pretty deaf. So buying ice cream from him can be kind of complicated. You’ve got to shout out what you want, and then you can’t give him anything bigger than a one dollar bill. When it comes to coins, though, you can give him any combination. He wears one of those coin dispensers around his waist and he’s really good at pushing levers and making change.
Chinga-chinga-chinga
. He’s fast, and he always gets it right.
    Anyhow, when we stepped out of Maynard’s we spotted Oscar almost right away, pushing his little cart along Broadway near the mall. We ran across the street, and when we were close enough to hear his bell jingling, we slowed way down so as not to startle him.
    When we’re close enough, Marissa calls out, “Hiya, Oscar! We’d like two Double Dynamos.”
    He stops his cart and then straightens out this old blue fishing hat that he wears to keep his head from burning. He pushes his dark glasses farther up his nose, cups his ear, and says, “A Double Dynamo, did you say?”
    Marissa calls, “Two, Oscar. Two. It’s Marissa and Sammy.”
    He smiles and moves his head a bit like he’s sunning his face. “Well, good afternoon, ladies. Two Double Dynamos coming up.”
    He flips open the freezer and gropes around a bit, and when he comes up with two Double Dynamos, my mouth starts to water. Marissa pays him, and
chinga-chinga-chinga
, he gives her some change.
    He says, “Nothing like a Double Dynamo. Enjoy ’em, ladies,” and starts jingling his way down the sidewalk.
    Now a Double Dynamo is not just an extra-big drumstick. It’s basically two scoops of ice cream double-dunked in dark chocolate and then rolled in peanuts until every last bit of it’s coated. It’s so big that they put a plastic protector around the top of it and wrap the cone in a nice fat napkin because there’s no way you can eat the thing without making a mess.
    So we sit down on the nearest patch of grass and get busy inhaling our ice cream. And just as I’m getting down to the cone, Marissa jumps up and says, “Is that
Mikey?
”
    I look across the street and sure enough, there’s Mikey coming out of Maynard’s with a bunch of candy bars in his hands. I laugh. “Is there any doubt?”
    â€œI don’t believe it! Mom let him stay home from his first day of school because he was sick! C’mon!” Marissa starts racing back to Maynard’s calling, “Hey! Hey, Mikey!”
    Well, Mikey’s picking up his bike, trying real hard not to drop any of his candy bars, when he hears Marissa yelling at him. He starts prancing around like he doesn’t know which way to run, then jumps on his bike and takes off. Trouble is, he’s so busy looking over his shoulder at us running toward him that he crashes into a newspaper stand and falls into the street.
    By the time he’s got everything picked up,