Sly the Sleuth and the Sports Mysteries by Donna Jo Napoli Read Free Book Online Page B

work,” he said. “Nothing else did.”

    â€œOkay, Brian, let’s figure this out. The rolling pin didn’t work,” I said slowly.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œDid you try duct tape again?”
    â€œWe had a roll too.”
    â€œAnd it didn’t work?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œAnd the water isn’t working.”
    â€œYou forgot the magnet,” said Brian.
    â€œOh, yeah, the magnet didn’t work?”
    â€œNope,” said Brian.
    What did a rolling pin and duct tape and a magnet and water all have in common?
    â€œYou better get out, Brian,” I said. “Your hands are wrinkling from the water.”
    â€œOh, no,” said Brian. “It’s working just the opposite.” He cried.
    â€œYou sure have the blues, Brian. What do you mean, it’s working the opposite.”
    â€œI’m shrinking, not swelling.”
    And it suddenly made sense.“Rice,” I said.
Fun
    I helped Brian towel off.
    â€œFirst, you’re not shrinking.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally. Now let me get this straight. You wanted the water to make you bigger. To swell you, like rice.”
    â€œIt didn’t work.”
    â€œAnd you wanted the rolling pin to make you bigger like cookie dough.”
    â€œIt didn’t work either,” said Brian. “And it hurt. Like the duct tape.”
    â€œRight,” I said. “The duct tape was heavy. I get it. It was supposed to stretch you. And the magnet . . . I don’t get the magnet.”
    â€œTwo magnets,” said Brian.
    Right. There was a second one on the ground under where Brian had been hanging the other day. “Of course.”
    Mrs. Olsen stood in the doorway. “How can you possibly say ‘Of course,’ Sly? Of course what?”
    â€œMagnets attract each other,” I said. “Brian wanted the magnet on his ankle to pull his body toward the magnet on the ground. To stretch him.”
    â€œGoodness, Brian. I didn’t know you knew so much science,” said Mrs. Olsen.
    â€œNothing worked,” said Brian. “I can’t have fun.”
    â€œYou don’t need to be bigger to have fun,” said Mrs. Olsen.
    â€œYes I do,” said Brian. “I can’t even hit a branch.”
    Mrs. Olsen looked at me with pleading eyes.
    â€œHe needs to be taller to play basketball,” I said.
    â€œPlaying is the most fun,” said Brian. “Sly said so. Shouting and kicking are fun too. But Kate won’t let me do that either.”
    Mrs. Olsen looked at me again.
    â€œHe needs to be bigger to be a cheerleader,” I said.
    â€œA cheerleader?” Mrs. Olsen asked weakly.
    â€œI don’t even have pom-poms,” said Brian.
    If you can hit two birds with one stone, you should do it. That’s what my father says. Brian wanted those pom-poms and I didn’t want to be a cheerleader. “You can have my pom-poms. I don’t even like them,” I lied. “And you can have the best job for cheering the basketball team on.”
    â€œReally?” said Brian. “What’s that?”
    â€œMascot.”
The Mascot
    So Brian became the cheerleading squad’s mascot. Melody was okay with that. Her mother didn’t want Pong going to the games anyway.
    Kate was nice about the whole thing. She wrote MASCOT in Magic Marker on a white T-shirt and gave it to Brian. He wears it almost every day.

    We had our first basketball game this week. Brian ran around with one pom-pom between his teeth, waving the other one. The crowds loved him.
    I didn’t get out of being a cheerleader after all. Kate’s mother bought me a new set of pom-poms. It’s okay, though. I really do like those pom-poms.
    Mrs. Olsen paid me with another dozen cookies. I didn’t know what to do with them.Then Jack came over and asked if he could have them. He has a shuffleboard game in his basement and he wanted them for pucks.
    So my second