The Mysterious Disappearence of Leon by Ellen Raskin Read Free Book Online Page B

don’t see why everyone is supposed to have an opinion about everything all the time, anyway.”
    “Dinner is served,” Tina announced upon a signal from Mrs. Baker.

    “ Caneton à l’orange, petits pois, purée de pommes de terre.” Augie Kunkel named the duck, peas, and mashed potatoes, then turned to Mrs. Carillon. “T-t-tell me about Leon.”
    “Noel,” Tina said.
    Mrs. Carillon told about her long search for her missing husband as quickly as possible, for the story always made her sad.
    “P-p-poor Little Dumpling.”
    The sound of her old nickname made Mrs. Carillon even sadder; but the twins, who had never heard it before, burst into convulsive giggles. Their laughter was finally cut short by the disapproving stare of Mrs. Baker arriving with a platter of second portions.
    “More duck, Tony?”
    “I don’t care,” he answered as usual.
    “Yes or no,” Mrs. Baker insisted.
    “That is q-q-quite a difficult decision if T-T-Tony doesn’t know what the d-d-dessert is,” said Mr. Kunkel, coming to the rescue.
    “Peaches with ice cream,” replied Mrs. Baker.
    “No, thank you,” said Tony, beaming at his new friend, “no more duck.”
    “Tell me about yourself, Augie,” Mrs. Carillon said. “Is naming things a good job?”
    “I don’t make my living n-n-naming things,” Augie answered gently. “It’s what you m-m-might call a hobby.”
    “What do you do?” Tony asked. Whatever it was, that was what Tony wanted to do, unless he had to be fat to do it.
    “I invent crossword puzzles.”
    “Crossword puzzles!” Tina exclaimed. “You’re just the person we need to solve the glub-blubs.”
    I Never Wear Underwear
    Mrs. Carillon sighed on hearing glub-blubs; she was sad again. And the sadder Mrs. Carillon became, the guiltier Tina felt.
    “What would you like for Mother’s Day,” Tina asked to cheer her up.
    “Mother’s Day?” Mrs. Carillon said, brightening. “Why, I’ve never ever received a Mother’s Day present before.”
    “How about lace underwear?” Tina suggested. “Mavis Bensonhurst’s mother always wears lace underwear in case she’s hit by a truck and her dress flies up in the air.”
    “That’s stupid,” Tony said. “If Mavis Bensonhurst’s mother were hit by a truck, she wouldn’t know the difference; she’d be dead.”
    “Nevertheless,” Mrs. Carillon said, “some women do feel that way. I often think of that myself; that’s why I never wear any underwear at all.”
    Tina’s mouth dropped open. Tony’s face turned a bright red. Augie Kunkel cleared his throat and lowered his eyes.
    “You really don’t mean that, Mrs. Carillon,” Tina said. “You’re only joking, aren’t you, Mrs. Carillon?”
    “Why should I joke about such a thing?” Mrs. Carillon replied, unaware of the confusion she had caused. “If I said I never wear underwear, that means I never wear underwear.”
    Tina couldn’t believe her ears. Tony wanted to die of embarrassment. The twins expected Mr. Kunkel to leave the table in shocked outrage; but he just sat there, intently polishing his glasses with his greasy napkin.
    “Why, I haven’t worn underwear in over twenty years,” Mrs. Carillon explained. “I wear a bathing suit, instead. That way, if I’m ever hit by a truck and my skirt flies over my head, Noel would recognize the purple flowers. And, if he wasn’t at the scene of the accident, he would read in the paper:
UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN IN PURPLE-FLOWERED SWIMSUIT HIT BY TRUCK.
    “Do you always wear the same bathing suit?” Tony asked, not quite sure that it still wasn’t indecent.
    “Oh no, dear, not the same one. I change every day. I own twenty-four of them, all exactly the same.”
    The twins broke into giggles again. So did Augie Kunkel.
    “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Carillon asked, which made them laugh even harder. She joined in with a few bewildered chuckles and waited until they were all laughed out.
    “Let’s have dessert in the living room,” she said,