Show Time by Sue Stauffacher Read Free Book Online Page B

ever dust up here? She sneezed. Mama wouldn’t like it at all. Even with all the animals and people in and out, Mama made sure the Carters kept their house as neat as a pin.

    “Goodness gracious.” Keisha looked down to see Sister Mary-Lee peering up at her. “What is Keisha doing on that ladder? Is it perfectly safe?”
    “Nothing is perfectly safe, Sister Mary-Lee,” Grandma said. “Even standing outside this building.” The way Grandma looked over at Jim, Keisha thought her guess about who had dumped the snow on them was right.
    “It was me who snowed them,” Jim said, twisting his hat in his hands. “I said sorry.”
    “I don’t understand.” Sister Mary-Lee looked to the president for clarification, but he was trying to help Keisha find the right place.
    “I think we’ll need to move the ladder a little. Shakespeare would be in Drama, just over here, next to English Literature.”
    “Well …,” Sister Mary-Lee continued. “I will leave you to your work. I forgot to get the proofs for the
Alumni Magazine.
And you know how particular Mr. Fahey is about typos.”
    “I see. Jim, I notice that Keisha’s fingers are covered in dust. I’ll hold this ladder steady while you get some wood polish and a dusting cloth. Any progress up there, young lady?”
    Jim left the room with his head down.
The poor guy keeps messing up,
Keisha thought.
    “Not yet.” Keisha went back to examining the shelf. Nothing had touched down on these shelves for a long time. A cold draft of air blew by her cheek. She looked up to see a ceiling vent with the metal cover hanging loose.
    “Or maybe …” Keisha leaned over and tried to push the cover back into place. Crumbles of plaster fell onto the president’s Persian rug.
    “What’s going on up there?” Grandma wanted to know. “Is that the cold-air register?”
    “Oh my, oh dear …” Sister Mary-Lee was at a loss for words. “I’ll get the dustpan.”
    Keisha started down the ladder. As she hopped off, Sister Mary-Lee returned, pan in hand. There was a flurry of activity as the president and Sister Mary-Lee worked to clean up the plaster.
    “It would be much safer to examine that register from the floor above,” Sister Mary-Lee said. “And that’s where I need to go. I’ll take you two ladies there on my way to get the proofs.”
    “Wait a minute, Sister.” Grandma took the dustpan out of her hands and picked through the plaster. She held up a powdery peanut shell. “President Kellogg, I doubt you eat peanuts and throw the shells on the floor.”
    “I can’t have that near me.…” President Kellogg backed away. “I most certainly do not. I am mildly allergic to peanuts. I never eat them.”
    “Well, squirrels do. And if you have a peanut allergy, it’s even more important that we get to the bottom of this”—Grandma pointed up—“by going to the top of this.…”
    “Oh, Mrs. Carter,” said Sister Mary-Lee. “I’m not sure a woman your age—”
    “Not the ladder. The building, as you suggested.We’re right behind you.” Grandma emptied the pan into the president’s waste can.
    “I’ll take this as well,” she said, and carried the trash can along with her. “We may find more clues. Keisha? Coming?”
    Keisha followed the older ladies out the door.
    “I can’t imagine …,” Sister Mary-Lee fussed as they got into the elevator. Grandma pushed the button. Keisha noticed she pressed #4, not #2, but she didn’t say anything. Grandma must have a plan. “There haven’t been peanuts in the building since … We all know not to bake anything with peanuts.”
    Grandma and Keisha glanced at one another as the elevator went up. These peanuts were their biggest clue so far.
    “And even with the whole ones, we never went anywhere near the president’s office. Oh dear,” she said as the elevator doors opened. “This is the fourth floor.”
    “Well, as long as we’re here …” Grandma stepped out of the elevator. “I know