Philip and the Sneaky Trashmen (9781619502185) Read online

Page 2


  “Ohhhh. You think maybe Leon threw it out with the other junk?”

  Philip gritted his teeth. “Leon.”

  “I told you.”

  “Let’s get the trash bag and find it. At least it just happened, so the bag’s gotta be here.”

  Emery stepped in a slow circle. “Where? I don’t see any trash bags.”

  “He must have put it in the garage.”

  The boys went in the small side door of the garage and walked around Philip’s father’s car.

  “There,” said Emery. Two white trash bags leaned against the wall.

  “Pshew! I’ll really be a hero now. Cleaning my room and finding the jewelry.”

  The boys tried to untie the knot at the top of the first bag, but it was too tight.

  “Rip it open,” Emery suggested. “You have to look through everything anyway for good stuff Leon tossed away.”

  “I guess.” Philip dug his fingers in and pulled the plastic apart. Coffee grounds, tissues, crunched up paper and a zillion other things spilled out onto the floor. The boys stared at it.

  “I don’t think that’s the right bag,” said Emery. “Ugh! What’s that?” He pointed to some slimy yellow stuff.

  “I don’t know. Push the other bag here.”

  Emery pushed the second bag to Philip, and Philip dug his fingers in again and pulled. An explosion of dust rose from the bag.

  Emery waved his arms in front of him. “This is vacuum cleaner junk. Ohhh, there’s more of that yellow stuff. What is that?”

  “There’s gotta be another bag. Look for it.”

  The boys searched everywhere but couldn’t find another white trash bag.

  Chapter Four

  “What time is it?” Philip asked when he and Emery left the garage.

  “I don’t know. Gotta be near dinnertime.”

  “We need to find out where Leon put the bag.”

  “Go see if your mother’s ready for dinner.”

  Philip hurried inside, Emery right behind him. His father sat on the sofa, a weary look on his face.

  “Where’s Mom? When are we eating?”

  “We may never eat again, Philip. At least until your mother finds her piece of jewelry.”

  Philip sniffed the air. “Nothing’s cooking?”

  “Nope.”

  “We’ll be back.” He and Emery scooted out the front door.

  “My cousin lives three blocks away, you know,” Emery pointed out as the boys rushed down the sidewalk.

  “I know where he lives. Let’s run.”

  Stopping impatiently at each corner to be certain no cars were coming, the two boys raced up in front of Leon’s house a few moments later. Philip banged on the front door.

  “Suppose they’re eating or have company or something,” said Emery.

  “Doesn’t matter. They’ll probably be happy to get Leon out of the way.”

  “Good point.”

  “Hi, guys!” Leon bubbled when he opened the door. “Wow! You guys never came to get me before.” He looked at Philip. “Got more cleaning to do?”

  “No, Leon. You cleaned too good.”

  “Yuk yuk. Yup, that’s me. Leon, the too-good cleaner.”

  Emery interrupted. “Where’d you take the white bag, Leon?”

  “Over to Gordon’s . . .”

  “Take us,” cried Philip. “Now. As fast as you can.”

  The boys didn’t allow Leon a moment to speak. They shushed him whenever he tried and pushed him forward when he slowed down.

  “Why are you . . . don’t push . . . I’m going . . . all right,” Leon sputtered as he led his friends on. “There. There, all right? Sheesh.”

  “That’s where Gordon lives?” asked Philip.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  Philip shushed him. “No buts. That’s where you took the white bag? All the way there?”

  “It wasn’t heavy, but . . .”

  “I said no buts,” Philip shouted. “You stay here. Don’t move. Don’t do anything.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Emery. “Stay here, Leon.”

  Leon shrugged, and the boys crossed the street.

  The house the boys approached was smaller than the other houses on the block and looked a lot older. It had a front porch and lots of grass on both sides. A man came out of the house onto the porch and sat down. The boys paused as they stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the house. The man wasn’t young. He was short and had gray hair. He wore a blue button-up shirt and gray pants.

  “You talk,” said Emery. “I don’t want to.”

  “We just tell him we want to see Gordon, and we ask Gordon for the bag. Must be his son.”

  “Or grandson.”

  “Maybe. You see any white bags around?”

  Emery scanned the front of the house. “Nope.”

  Philip slowly advanced along the walkway leading to the front porch. The man noticed him and Emery and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  Philip stopped short of the two steps leading up to the porch. “Hi,” he began.

  “You got a white bag?” Emery burst out.

  “Emery, shut up.”

  “White bag?” the old man asked, perplexed.

  Philip went on. “We’re friends of Leon. Can we see Gordon?”

  “Oh. Leon, yes. He told you about Gordon?”

  “Yeah,” said Emery. “Can we talk to him?”

  “Yeah, we want to ask him something,” added Philip.

  The old man looked surprised and laughed. “You can try. Gordon,” he called. “Come here, Gordon.”

  A short ruff came from inside the house, and a moment later a brown and black dachshund slithered through a square, hinged panel in the front door of the house. The boys stared at the dog, who stood out of range of the door as it swung back into position.

  They heard the man laugh and looked his way. “Go ahead and talk to him. Ask him anything you want. Come here, Gordon.” The man patted his lap and the long, low dog padded over and stood up so his front paws were on the man’s leg. The man lifted Gordon into his lap, and the dog waddled in a clumsy circle and settled down to face the boys.

  Emery spoke first. “That’s Gordon?”

  “Sure. Your friend Leon likes to visit him.”

  “My friend Leon is a nut,” Philip cried. He grabbed Emery’s arm and pulled him down the walkway and across the street. They marched up to Leon.

  “Your friend Gordon is a dog?” asked Philip. “You sent me and Emery across the street to talk to a dog?”

  “I didn’t send you. You went.”

  “You told us you had a friend named Gordon,” said Emery. “How could you give a bag of Philip’s junk to a dog?”

  “It’s not junk,” snapped Philip. “Not all of it.”

  “I didn’t say I gave it to a dog.”

  “You said you gave it to Gordon!” Philip shouted.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Philip tried to remember exactly what Leon had said.

  “What did you say then?” asked Emery.

  “I said I had a new friend Gordon, and I do. He’s better than a people friend. He doesn’t tease me or yell at me.”

  “We don’t tease you or . . .” Philip stopped because he heard himself screaming as he spoke. “Well, we don’t tease you, anyway.”

  “Where’s Philip’s white bag of stuff?” asked Emery.

  Leon pointed across the street.

  “You gave it to Gordon?” Philip cried. “You just said you didn’t give it to Gordon.”

  “I didn’t say I gave it to Gordon. What would a dog do with it? And you call me dumb. I said I took the bag to Gordon’s. I gave the bag to Mr. Sorino. The man you talked to.”

  “What did you give it to him for?” asked Philip.

  “Go tell him you want the white bag back,” Emery ordered.

  “Sure,” said Leon. “Why didn’t you ask me to do that before?”

  Philip threw his arms up and started across the street again.r />
  As the three boys walked, Emery asked, “What’s he want a bag of junk for?”

  “Stop calling it junk!”

  Leon explained. “He told me he finds good stuff and gets money.”

  “Just go ask him for the white bag,” said Philip, in no mood for explanations. He stopped at the beginning of the walkway and waved Leon ahead.

  “Hi, Leon,” said Mr. Sorino, giving a quick wave of his hand. Gordon still sat on his lap. “Your friends wanted to talk to Gordon.” He laughed, and Leon laughed along with him.

  “Did they go woof woof woof?” Leon asked between laughs.

  “I’ll woof you, Leon,” Philip said under his breath. “Get the bag.”

  “The bag I gave you came from this boy.” Leon pointed at Philip, who gave Mr. Sorino an embarrassed smile. “I don’t know why he wants it back. It’s all junk.”

  Philip glared at Leon a moment before saying, “There’s something in it. My mother lost something, and it’s probably in the bag.”

  Philip’s heart took a happy jump when Mr. Sorino said, “Well, we don’t want your mother to lose anything. Let’s go look.”

  The boys followed Mr. Sorino and Gordon around back and through a small door into a building that had once been a garage but no longer had the big, roll-up door that let the car go in and out. The two boys stopped and stared. All kinds of stuff, old and new, broken and not broken, lay on the floor and atop a handful of tables.

  “Leon was nice enough to make a contribution to all of this. I was about to open your bag when I got hungry,” Mr. Sorino explained. “I just finished a sandwich when you boys showed up. You can take the whole bag with you if you want.”

  “I gotta find a green pin in it in a hurry,” said Philip.

  “Yeah, otherwise we won’t eat,” said Emery.

  “Won’t eat?” Mr. Sorino looked puzzled, but merely said, “Let’s look then.”

  Mr. Sorino lifted the bag onto the one empty table in the room. He gently tore open a hole in the side of the bag and began to dig out Philip’s stuff.

  “It’s green,” Philip said, his heart beating harder. “Jewelry.”

  “Ooop!” Mr. Sorino exclaimed, his eyes wide. He dug inside and came out with a green pin that sparkled in the light shining through a side window. “This must be it. How’d it get in there?”

  “Yeah, Leon,” said Emery. “How’d it get in there?”

  Leon moved his eyes around the room without looking at his two friends and didn’t answer.

  “Well?” asked Philip.

  Leon shrugged. “I guess it got scooped in. There was a lot of junk, you know.”

  “Here,” said Mr. Sorino. “If you want to look through your stuff and take what you want, do it.”

  Philip grabbed the pin and said, “I gotta get this home. Can I come back tomorrow morning and look through my stuff?”

  “Sure. It’ll be right here.”

  “Thanks a lot, mister.”

  “Are you going, too, Leon?” asked Mr. Sorino.

  Leon looked into the angry eyes of Philip and Emery. “No, I’ll play with Gordon a while.”

  Philip and Emery left the garage and hurried back to Philip’s house.

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t find it. It’s gone forever. My sister won’t talk to me. My mother will hate me. I’ve looked everywhere!”

  Philip and Emery exchanged glances. Philip’s mother walked around the living room waving her arms. Her husband tried to calm her.

  “It will turn up, honey. Don’t worry.”

  “It won’t turn up. I’ve looked up and down, over and under, and behind. Everywhere, I told you!”

  “Don’t shout. Let’s start all over. We’ll search again. Systematically. Let’s do it together. We’ll start in the kitchen.”

  “I looked in the kitchen. I looked a hundred times in the kitchen.”

  Philip’s father put his arm around his wife and led her gently out of the living room.

  “How you gonna do it?” Emery whispered. “You can’t just walk up to her and say here it is. She’ll know you lost it in the first place.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “You can blame Leon. Everybody knows he always messes up. It was his fault anyway.”

  Philip shook his head. “I can’t. Then I’ll have to tell my mother he cleaned the room and not me.”

  Emery watched as Philip went to the sofa and sat as close to the left arm as he could. He peeked to be certain his parents were nowhere in sight, and then he slid the piece of jewelry down the side of the cushion.

  He looked at Emery, took a deep breath, and screamed “Ow!” as loud as he could. He waited a moment and then screamed again.

  Philip’s father rushed into the room.

  “What was that?”

  “Something stuck me.” Philip reached down the side of the cushion and pulled up the emerald pin. “Is this what Mom’s looking for?”

  Mr. Felton’s eyes bulged. He turned and hurried out of the room. Two seconds later, he pulled his wife along and pointed at Philip, who sat on the sofa, his heart beating wildly, holding up the pin.

  Mrs. Felton stopped abruptly. “Arggghh! The pin! Mom’s pin. I don’t believe it. Where did you find it, Philip?”

  “Down here.” Philip slid his hand down alongside the cushion.

  “Down there? I took the cushions off the sofa and couldn’t find anything.”

  Philip shrugged helplessly.

  “Maybe it was stuck to the cushion,” Emery offered.

  Philip’s mother walked briskly to Philip and took the pin. She pulled him to his feet and hugged him. “You don’t know what a relief this is, Philip.”

  “Now, can we eat?” said Mr. Felton. “How about I get a pizza? I’ll call. You two can eat pizza, I imagine?”

  “Sure,” said Philip, and Emery nodded his agreement.

  Mr. Felton put his arms around his wife’s shoulders. “Go put that someplace safe, honey. Right away.”

  “Don’t worry. I will. I’m taking it upstairs right now.”

  Mr. Felton watched his wife go up the steps before turning his eyes on Philip and Emery. “You two wouldn’t know how that mess appeared in the garage, would you?”

  “Mess?” said Philip, not understanding for a moment.

  “Yes, mess. Two ripped open trash bags with the junk inside, all over the floor.”

  “Oh. No, I don’t know.”

  Philip’s father turned to Emery.

  “Beats me,” said Emery. “Maybe cats got in.”

  “I don’t think cats did it. The door was closed.”

  The two boys stood silent.

  “Well, all’s well that ends well, I guess.”

  Philip changed the subject. “Can we get pepperoni on the pizza?”

  Philip’s father glanced at Emery.

  “I like pepperoni, too, Mr. Felton.”

  “Good. Then we’ll get half pepperoni and half mushroom. Your mother likes mushrooms. I’ll go pick it up. It’ll be quicker. Tell your mother that’s where I am when she comes downstairs.”

  Philip’s father called the order in, and when the boys heard the car drive away, Emery said, “I think your father’s suspicious.”

  Philip slumped back onto the sofa, glad the missing jewelry episode had come to an end.

  “What do you think Leon meant?” Emery continued.

  “Meant about what?”

  “He said something about Mr. Sorino getting money for your junk.”

  “Did he say that? I wasn’t listening. I only wanted that stupid pin-thing back.”

  “It’s a little after six. After we eat let’s find Leon again and ask him what he meant.”

  “Okay with me. I don’t care what we do now. And tomorrow morning we’ll go rescue any other good stuff Leon threw away.”

  ~ * ~

  When Philip and Emery approached Leon’s house after their pizza dinner, they saw him coming toward them pulling a red metal wagon.

/>   “Hi, guys. Like my new wagon?”

  “Where’d you get it?” asked Emery.

  “Mr. Sorino found it and gave it to me. It’s in pretty good shape. He said I could use it to put stuff in that I find and bring it to him. And . . .” Leon dug into his pocket and pulled out a dollar bill. “He gave me this, too.”

  “What’d you do?” asked Philip. “Walk his dog?”

  “No. I brought him your stuff. I told you. He fixes broken things and sells them to the store in the little mall. He told me to keep my eye out for things.”

  “What kind of things?” asked Philip.

  “Stuff. Junk. If I see people throw out anything good, and it won’t fit in my wagon, I should tell him.”

  “What store in the mall sells broken junk?” asked Emery.

  “You know. The store where you give them old stuff you don’t want, and they sell it. And they sell the broken junk, too, after Mr. Sorino fixes it.”

  “Pete’s Repeat Shop?” asked Emery.

  “Yeah, yeah. That’s it.”

  “And you got a dollar for what?” asked Philip.

  “For giving Mr. Sorino your stuff.”

  “What!”

  “He’ll fix the broken stuff and sell it to Pete, and Pete will sell it to other people. You can go there and buy back your stuff if you want, after he fixes it.”

  “I wouldn’t have to buy anything back if you didn’t give it away,” Philip argued, his eye on Leon’s dollar bill.

  Leon jammed the bill back into this pocket. “Yeah, but it would still be broken if he didn’t fix it. You can take back any good stuff. He already said so, didn’t he?”

  Emery interrupted. “And Mr. Sorino gave you a dollar just for bringing him broken junk?”

  “Yup.”

  Philip’s and Emery’s eyes met.

  “You have broken stuff, don’t you Emery?”

  “Tons of it. My sisters break things all the time.” Emery had two baby sisters only a year apart.

  “Look,” said Philip, “get all your broken junk together, and when we go to Mr. Sorino’s tomorrow to get my stuff back, we’ll give him yours. Maybe he’ll give us money.”