DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Well, except the plot.
I turned the page and began to read.
"Chapter One. It's not like I was trying to get into trouble."
Those who knew Sammy laughed out loud.
"And it's not like it was my fault I was stuck inside the apartment. If it was anybody's fault it was Mrs. Graybill's. Mrs. Graybill lives down the hall and has to be the nosiest person who ever lived. I swear she's got nothing better to do than to stand by her door, waiting for someone to do something she doesn't think they're supposed to be doing. Grams says she's just a bitter old woman, but when I ask why she's bitter, Grams doesn't seem to have much of an answer. She usually just shrugs and says, "It happens to people sometimes," and then changes the subject.
Anyhow, it's on account of Mrs. Graybill that I was stuck inside when I wanted to be outside. And since there's not much for me to do because everything I own has to be able to fit inside Grams' bottom dresser drawer, I was using the binoculars to at least see what was going on outside."
"Why does all of her things have to fit in her Grams' dresser drawer? Why can't she just walk outside?" someone a couple of people to the left of me asked.
"For the last time, we don't know!" Mr. Caan shouted, trying to pinpoint the speaker's position in the crowd.
"Read on, Marissa," the principle encouraged me.
"First I checked out the Pup Parlor. You can see some pretty weird-looking dogs leaving the Pup Parlor."
"Hey! I find that offensive!" Holly shouted.
Everyone craned their necks to look at her as if she had grown a second head.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"Holly," I spoke, looking into her eyes, "you do know you're talking to a book, right?"
"Of course," she answered, rolling her eyes as if I was an idiot for asking. "I just find it offensive, you know, 'cause I work there."
"Right," I mumbled before continuing.
"Most of them come out all puffed up and wearing ribbons like they're going to a party instead of going home to sleep on the couch."
Holly started to glare daggers at the book.
"But since we're on the fifth floor and the Pup Parlor's clear down the street, there isn't really much to see if nobody's going in to pick up their puffy dogs. And since nobody was goingin to pick up their puffy dogs, I didn't spend much time watching.
I didn't waste time at Bargain Books, either. The only interesting thing I ever saw there was when the owner, Mr. Bell, chased this kid all the way down to Main Street, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Stop! You come back here and get your filthy bubble gum off my wall!" His face was all red and I thought he was going to have a heart attack. He caught the guy in the middle of the intersection at Broadway and Main and dragged him clear back up the bookstore by his collar. Then he made him pull the gum off the wall and throw it in the trash can. The boy looked really embarrassed, kind of checking around to see if anyone was watching him pick these big strands of goopy gum off the wall. I waved, but he didn't see me, and pretty soon Mr. Bell let him go."
By the end of the paragraph everyone in the auditorium was hunched over in hysterics.
"That had to be hilarious!" Dot and Holly said in between laughs.
"Anyhow, I cruised right by the bookstore and started checking out the hotel. Grams hates the Heavenly Hotel-calls it seedy, but I think she's wrong. One time I even went inside. There was a man with greased-back hair sitting behind the counter reading a newspaper and smoking a cigar. He kind of eyed me from behind the paper, then rolled his cigar over to one side of his mouth and said, "Lookin' for someone?" I just smiled and shook my head and sat down in one of the fuzzy green chairs they have waiting for you in the lobby. I'd always wanted to sit in a chair like that. The kind with the curvy legs that have paws on the ends of them and then backs that go way up. The backs on the ones in the Heavenly Hotel are pointy-like the pope's hat, only green."
Every was laughing once again, thinking of the pope wearing a lime green pointed hat.
"Anyhow, I'm busy trying out of the chairs when the guy behind the counter says, "You sure?"
I nod and ask him, "How old do you have to be to live here?"
Almost immediately, faces were filled with confusion and questions were fired ("Why would she want to live there?")
Before someone could blow a gasket trying to calm everyone down, I continued reading.
"He squints at me and rolls his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. "Where's your mother?"
Now there's no way I wanted to get into that, so I just hopped out of the chair and headed for the door. I'd seen enough of the Heavenly Hotel anyways. It wasn't anything like Grams had told me. I was expecting a bunch of people hanging around like they do in front of the Salvation Army but all I got to see was some old guy gnawing on a cigar.
Anyhow, from our window you can't see the pope-hat chairs or the guy with the cigar-not even with the binoculars. Actually, you can't see much of anything until you're looking about at the third floor. Then things start getting pretty good. Usually you just see people looking out their windows, pointing to stuff on the street or talking on the phone, but sometimes you can see people yelling at each other, which is really strange because you can't hear anything."
"That is pretty strange," someone spoke up. All heads turned to face the person: Holly.
"What?" she asked innocently. "All you have to do is think of a time when someone was yelling at you and remove all sound."
Everyone thought about it for a second before nodding their heads in agreement. It was pretty strange.
"So I'd started looking at the hotel windows and was checking out the fourth floor when I noticed this guy moving around one of the rooms kind of fast. He disappeared for a little while but when he came back by the window I could see him digging through a purse like a dog after a gopher. And not only was he pawing through a purse, he was wearing gloves. Black gloves."
By now everyone was on the edge of their seats in anticipation.
"What I should've was put those binoculars down and call 911."
Most people were nodding their heads in agreement about that statement. Knowing Sammy, though, she probably didn't do that.
"What I did instead was try to get the focus tight on my right eye. When I got the binoculars adjusted so that I could practically see him breathing in and out, I got the strangest feeling that I'd seen this guy before. Either that, or I knew his brother or something.
And I'm trying to get a better look at his face through all his bushy brown hair and beard, when he stuffs a wad of money from the purse into his jacket pocket and then looks up. Right at me."
Gasps filled the room.
"For a second there I don't think he believed his eyes. He kind of leaned into the window and stared, and I stared right back through the binoculars. Then I did something really, really stupid. I waved."
A stunned silence filled the auditorium before someone, Dot, broke it. "She waved?"
Holly, who was sitting next to her, stared at the book open-mouthed. Sure she heard about the hotel thief but she didn't know Sammy waved at him.
"He didn't wave back. He just took a good hard look at me and then ducked out of view.
I sat there for a minute not knowing what to do. I wanted to run and tell Grams, but I knew all that would do was get me in trouble. See, she doesn't know I look at the hotel-she thinks I just watch people on the street. Besides, I'd have to tell her about how he saw me, and that would make her worry. I was worried, and if I was worried you can just picture how Grams would be."
I could tell Holly, Dot, and I were all thinking the same thing: Grams would be worried to the max.
"I thought about dialing 911, but the only phone in the apartment is in the kitchen and since Grams was in there making dinner I couldn't exactly go dialing Emergency without her knowing about it.
Then I thought about running down to the police station. It's only about four blocks from the apartment and I could've been there in no time. Trouble was, Mrs. Graybill.
So I'm sitting there, trying to figure out what to do, when Grams calls, "Samantha? It's time to feed that cat of yours."
I jumped right up and said, "Coming!" and the whole time fixing Dorito's-"
"Hold up!" someone called. "She named her cat Dorito?"
Holly, Dot, and I all looked at each other before replying as one, "Yep."
"-dinner, I'm watching Grams out of the corner of my eye.
Well, she's measuring out some rice, watching me out of the corner of her eye. Pretty soon she stops measuring. "What have you been up to, young lady?" "Up to? Me?"
I could hear Dot mumble to Holly, "She really must be desperate. Either that or she's still a bit shaken up."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Holly nod.
"She puts down the measuring cup and takes off her glasses. "Yes, Samantha, you."
I check out my high-tops for a minute, kind of studying the place wgere the rubber's peeling away at the toe. "Nothing."
"Ha!" That's all she says. "Ha!" But what that means is I'm busted and had better start doing some pretty fast talking. Either that or come right out and tell the truth.
I step on the peeling rubber with my other foot, trying to break it off, but it just snaps back. When I look up at Grams, her hands have made it up to her hips so I know it's time to come out with the truth."
Most of the teachers nodded their heads, as if she was doing the right thing. Ha! The obviously don't know her.
"At least part of it."
The same teachers that nodded their heads were now shaking them as if saying that they should've known better than that.
"I was using the binoculars. Sorry."
She lets out a little sigh-"Oh"-and turns back to the rice.
So there I am, waiting for her to ask me what I saw, thinking that maybe I'll tell her because I'm feeling kind of shaky about the whole thing, but she doesn't ask. She just sprinkles out some more rice and says, "Well, I suppose it can't be helped with Daisy being such a busybody today." And I'm standing there, not real sure I like getting off the hook so easy, when she turns to me and says, "You know what the problem is? The problem is that I haven't taught you how to knit."
Dot, Holly, and I couldn't help it. We busted out laughing, saying in-between laughs, "She…tried…to…teach…her…to…knit?"
"I couldn't believe my ears. "To knit?"
Now Grams doesn't usually get too excited about stuff but when she does you can tell because her eyes get really big and she starts moving. And thinking about teaching me to knit was making those eyes of hers pop wide open. I just said, "Uh-oh," and got real busy giving Dorito fresh water.
It didn't help. She comes over to me with this measuring cup full of rice and says, "To knit, or crochet, or embroider-that's it! I'm going to teach you how to embroider."
"Embroider?" Dot and Holly shouted before laughing again.
"Embroider?" I fill up Dorito's water dish. "No way!"
She chases after me with that cup of rice in her hand. "It would be fun. Trust me, you would enjoy it! Besides, it would give you something constructive to do on the days when you have to stay in."
I look straight at her. "I would hate it." Then I point to the kettle of water splashing away like crazy on the stove. "Water's boiling."
She hurries over to the stove. "How do you know you'd hate it? You've never even tried it."
I laugh. "Oh yes I have. Lady Lana tried to teach me."
Everybody was confused, all wondering the same thing: Who is Lady Lana?
"Who?" someone in the last row asked. I shook my head.
Please don't call her that."
I just shrug. "Well she did. When I was in the third grade. I kept poking myself with the needle and she got mad at me 'cause I bled all over the place."
Grams didn't have much to say to that. I mean, everyone knows how much my mother likes blood."
A chorus of "Oh so that's who Lady Lana is" went around the room.
"So she stirs the rice some and finally she says, "Well, okay then. I'll teach you how to knit."
I groan, but I can tell it's hopeless. Grams is going to teach me how to knit whether I like it or not.
Just then the doorbell rings. Now normally when the doorbell rings I just get up from doing whatever I'm doing, make sure none of my stuff is sitting around the living room, and head for Grams' closet.
This time, though, I jumped. I jumped and I yelped like a puppy. And all of a sudden my heart's pounding because I know who it is.
It's the guy I saw at the Heavenly Hotel, come to shut me up for good."
Everyone, who were all on the edge of their seats, sat back bummed to find out that it was the end of the chapter.
"Who wants to read next?" I asked holding the book up while looking for a person.
"I will!" a voice volunteered. I turned to see…
Ooooooohhhhhh. Cliff Hanger! Who do you think it is! Review your answer! Those who are right get a virtual cookie!
