Against All Odds Read Online Free PDF Page B

walk and out to the street, making their way toward Starky Hill. Squeak pulled the wagon while Boney steadied the plane from the back by the rudder. Itchy followed, carrying the kittens and eating egg salad sandwiches until Boney shouted at him to save some for later. While they were walking, several cars slowed down on the street to gawk at the three friends. One driver even yelled something unintelligible out his car window.
    “Did you understand what he said?” Itchy asked.
    “It sounded like ‘I’m calling the police,’” Boney said.
    Squeak paused. “Who was he talking to?”
    Boney shrugged. “Who knows?”
    By the time the boys reached the bottom of Starky Hill, the sun was winking behind the border of trees to one side of the cliff.
    Boney wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’s going to be another hot day.” He looked up the hill toward the cliff. The hill seemed even higher in the morning light.
    “Maybe we should have a rest before we drag the plane up this mountain,” Itchy said, opening the bag of sandwiches.
    Boney scowled. “How many sandwiches have you had?”
    “I need the energy to keep me going.”
    Boney wrenched the bag from Itchy’s hands. “I told you to save some for later.”
    “Fine. You don’t have to be such a jerk about it,” Itchy pouted, folding his arms across his chest.
    “Do you have to eat everything in sight?” Boney said. “My aunt told me about the cookies.”
    Itchy made a face. “What cookies? I wouldn’t touch anything your aunt baked.”
    “Take that back.”
    “Make me.”
    Squeak stepped between them. “Gentlemen, please. I can’t hear myself think with all this bickering.”
    “Sorry,” Boney apologized. He turned with irritation toward Itchy. “I hope you brought some water for those kittens.”
    Itchy produced a water bottle and a small dish from his knapsack. “Is this good enough for you?”
    “Yeah, sure. As long as you don’t drink it all yourself.” Boney reached for the handle of the wagon.
    Squeak intercepted him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll pull the
StarSweeper.”
    Itchy gave Boney a self-satisfied look. Boney sneered back but kept his comments to himself.
    Squeak huffed and puffed, pulling the wagon up the hill. He had to stop several times to catch his breath, refusing Boney and Itchy’s offers of assistance. At the top of the hill, the boys could see a group of people setting up tables and colourful banners and signs. To one side of the tables, a makeshift wooden stage had been built. Clusters of eager spectators were already gathered on blankets with picnic baskets, waiting for the contest to begin. They turned to look at the Odds, particularly Itchy. Some pointed and whispered as the boys walked by.
    “Do you know these people?” Boney asked Squeak.
    “I’ve never seen them before.”
    “Then why are they all staring at us?”
    “Perhaps they’re just curious about the contestants.” Squeak stopped to dab the sweat from his face.
    “They seem to be interested in Itchy.” Boney nodded to a blanket full of children who were staring openly.
    “Maybe it’s his hair,” Squeak said.
    Boney smirked. “Can you blame them? They probably think he’s a clown who escaped from the circus. Anyway, it looks like we’re the first contestants here.”
    “Not quite,” Squeak said. “Someone’s beat us to it.” He gestured toward a dark figure near the edge of the cliff. It was the spy from the day before!
    “What’s he doing here?” Boney growled.
    “Maybe he never left,” Itchy said.
    Squeak glared through his goggles. “He took the spot I wanted.” He handed the wagon over to Itchy and marched up to the registration table, casting furtive glances at the mysterious contestant.
    A balding man with a face like a half-baked apple pie sat behind the registration table, mopping the sweat from his brow. He smiled pleasantly as he took Squeak’s name, then scratched it off the list and gave him a registration number.