The Dragon in the Ghetto Caper by E.L. Konigsburg Read Free Book Online

taking the five dollar bill that Edie held out. “Like you and Matthew say: six three. Do you want it boxed?”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary,” Edie answered.
    They completed their rounds in silence, except for an occasional clicking of her tongue by Sister Henderson. When they arrived at Brother Banks’s, Sister left the car and started down the path. She stopped, shook her head and returned to the car. “Are you sure you want this
total
involvement?”
    â€œOf course she’s sure,” Andy said. “What do you think she is? An Indian giver?” He stopped short. “Not that I have anything against the Indians any more than I do against you Blacks. Except maybe your manners.”
    Sister Henderson paid no attention to him. She closed her eyes and clutched her bags to her and said, “Ah jes don’ know what t’ say.”
    â€œTry
thank you,”
Andy suggested.
    Sister Henderson continued nodding her head. “Ah jes don’ know what t’ say, Brother Maytag,” she said as Brother Maytag and his friend were walking down the steps of Brother Banks’s house.
    â€œDon’t worry, sistah,” he answered. Brother Maytag and his friend drove out, talking to each other and not even waving to Andy and Edie.
    Andy turned toward Edie. “That’s another thing about the ghetto. They may have sidewalks and dignity, but they sure don’t have manners.”
    â€œDon’t confuse manners and kindness.”
    â€œDon’t tell me that. My sister Mary Jane writes a fourpage thank-you note for two lousy tea towels, for God’s sake. And here, you’re giving Sister five whole dollars, and she doesn’t even say a thank-you.”
    â€œMaybe your sister Mary Jane just likes to write thank-you notes. I did. Of course, we didn’t get many presents, Harry—he’s my husband—and me. But for those we got, I liked to write thank you. Mostly because it is so hard for me to say it.”
    â€œDo you like big weddings?” Andy asked.
    â€œI love them.”
    â€œMary Jane’s making a bigger celebration than national Black History. As far as I’m concerned, they’re a big waste.”
    â€œThey’re not such a waste. They’re a form of theater. If you watch them good, and I’m a good watcher for the same reason that I’m a good listener, you can find the people who have dragons. They’re the people to seek out.”
    Andy hardly noticed that she had mentioned dragons again; he was wondering if the Yakotses were on the invitation list. All the invitations had been addressed, ready to be mailed on Monday. He decided that it would be interesting to check when he got home. It would be nice (and also not nice) if they were invited. If they were, they were. And if they were not, they were not. He, Andy, certainly wouldn’t do anything to help one way or another. If Edie came, she would probably wave like a windmill all during the ceremony and talk to everyone all out of sync and embarrass him. To death. In front of all the rest of Foxmeadow plus two families’ worth of relatives.
    Sister Henderson returned to the car, still shaking her head. “Brother say he supprized at you, too. He say that if you hit, you’ll break up the ole Banks.” She continued mumbling all the way home. Andy paid no attention.
    Construction activity, on the hospital, had picked up, and some of the side streets were temporarily blocked by concrete mixers and sand trucks moving across them. They did not get lost again, but they did get slowed downjogging in and out of side streets; it was past five when they pulled into Edie’s driveway.
    Andy popped out of the car, “See ya, Yakots,” he yelled.
    â€œWait a minute,” Edie said. “I made you pysanky.”
    â€œAre you being vulgar again?”
    â€œCome see,” Edie insisted.
    She led Andy through the house to the