Sammy Keyes and the Runaway Elf by Wendelin Van Draanen Read Free Book Online

back, and then all of a sudden she’s gone.
    Grams and I just sat there, blinking at the television. Finally Grams says, “Well, I suppose it’s a start.”
    I got up and turned off the TV. “My mother, the GasAway Lady.”
    “Samantha, come on, now. She’s been working hard to get a part.”
    “In a movie! In a sitcom! Even in a soap. But in a commercial for
GasAway?
”
    The phone rang. Grams took a deep breath and said, “That’s probably her now. Let’s be positive, all right? She’s very excited about it and I don’t think we should discourage her. She understands the business better than we do, and who knows? Maybe she really can parlay this into a part in a movie or a TV show.”
    Grams went into the kitchen to answer the phone, and I snuck out the door. There was no way I could congratulate the GasAway Lady—not with the upset stomach she’d just given me.
    *  *  *
    I wound up at Hudson’s. Not to talk, just to sit on his porch and try to forget. Trouble is, you can’t really space out when you’re with Hudson. To him, spacing out is like using a Swiss army knife to dig holes.
    Hudson took one look at me and said, “Ooooo. You’ve had a rough one.”
    “I’m not talking about it.”
    He pulled on an eyebrow.
    “I’m not.”
    “Well, have some tea, then, and tell me what you’ve decided to do about Heather.”
    “Heather! I haven’t even had a chance to
think
about Heather. What I’m going to do about her is nothing.”
    “Nothing?”
    I threw my head back and groaned. “What can I do? What’s it matter, anyway? If she’s got nothing better to do than throw cats at floats, that’s her problem.”
    Hudson dusted off a boot. “Wow, you must be in a stew.”
    “You can say that again.”
    “I mean a
real
stew. For you not to care about Heather?”
    The truth is, I did care. But I hadn’t had time to think about her, and compared to the other monsters in my life, well, she seemed like the runt of the litter. I sighed and said, “What can I do about it, anyway?”
    Hudson smiled into the distance. “Oh, I don’t know …”
    I studied him. “What are you thinking?”
    “Oh, nothing. Nothing that you’d be interested in, anyway.”
    “Hudson!”
    “So …?”
    “So all right, I’m interested! I just don’t have any time.”
    He laughed. “This wouldn’t take any time.”
    I sat up. “So, let’s hear it.”
    He smoothed down an eyebrow and eyed me. “Ever hear of ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’?”
    I groaned. “By Edgar Allan Poe?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “Heather hasn’t got a conscience.”
    “Sure she does,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ve just got to help dig it up.”
    “How am I supposed to do that?”
    He smiled. “Be her conscience for her. Remind her with everything you do that you know what she’s done. A guilty soul cannot keep its own secret.”
    “She hasn’t got a soul, either. Besides, she probably doesn’t even care if I know or not.”
    Hudson chuckled. “She would if she thought you were plotting revenge.”
    “Revenge? Hudson, you don’t understand … I don’t have
time
to plot revenge.”
    He gave me that smile again. “The revenge will take care of itself. All you have to do is set the stage.”
    “Hudson!”
    “Okay. Tell me this—what’s your demeanor when you’re around Heather? Are you friendly? Are you hostile?”
    “I usually just avoid her.”
    “You’re not confrontational?”
    “No.”
    “Sociable?”
    “No. I just try to steer clear of her.”
    He smiled. “What if your behavior toward Heather changed radically? What if you were, for example, really nice to her?”
    I thought about this a minute. “She’d probably wonder what I was up to.”
    “Now let’s play with the opposite scenario. What if you acted like you were plotting to get her? Really get her.”
    I laughed and said, “That would definitely make her nervous, but c’mon, Hudson—she’s not going to admit she catapulted cats just