Blossoms and the Green Phantom Read Online Free PDF Page B

store. Michael’s room was like the sporting goods department at Sears. “If we don’t have it, we can probably borrow it,” Vern said.
    “It’s only one thing, but it’s a very, very, very important thing,” Junior said. This was the secret ingredient, the word so secret he had written it in the corner of his list and then turned the corner down.
    “What?” Vern asked.
    “You might not think of it as important, but it is very, very, very—”
    “All right. We’re begging,” Ralphie said. “What is this thing that is so important?”
    Junior felt that the moment was now right for his revelation. Everyone was ready. Everyone was waiting. One of them was even getting impatient.
    Junior said the secret word. “Helium.”

CHAPTER 9
Ticks and Things
    Mud barked. This was a series of sharp barks, different from that single questioning bark he had given from time to time. Pap lumbered to his feet.
    “What is it, Mud? You see something?” Pap peered over the side of the Dumpster. “I don’t see nothing. What do you see? I—” Then he broke off.
    A jogger came around the bend in the road. Pap’s heart leapt at the sight. “Over here! Over here!” he shouted.
    He beckoned the approaching jogger with both hands. As the jogger came into closer view, Pap frowned. The man had on earphones.
    Pap raised his voice and his arms. He waved his arms over his head.
    “Help! Help! Help!”
    The man did not glance in the direction of the Dumpster. He kept running in rhythm, arms to his chest, a weight in each hand.
    “Help! Look over here! Help!” Then Pap broke off and said the words Mud had been waiting for. “Go get him, Mud! Go get him!”
    In an instant, Mud was running for the road. He caught up with the jogger and began barking at his heels. The man turned and with one practiced kick, caught Mud on the side of the head.
    There was a loud yelp of pain.
    Pap yelled, “Mud, you all right?”
    Mud came back into view slowly. He was shaking his head. He went directly under the truck. “Mud?” Mud looked at Pap and shook his head again, trying to rid himself of the sharp pain in his ear.
    Pap said, “There ought to be a law against them earphones, and there ought to be another law against joggers kicking dogs. You all right, Mud?”
    Mud rested his head on his paws. One eye was closed, and one ear pulled back in pain.
    “Well, you tried. I thank you for that.”
    Slowly, Pap sank onto his garbage bag chair. He reached down his hand to Dump. Pap had now been in the Dumpster for so long that he and Dump were friends.
    The friendship had come slowly, because it was Pap’s way to let the dog make the first move. Pap would make conversation, but Dump had to come on his own. Finally, Dump had crawled out of his corner on his belly.
    “Come if you want to, don’t come if you don’t” was all Pap had said to him.
    Before long Dump had been at Pap’s feet, and Pap had picked him up. When the jogger came by, he had been in Pap’s lap, allowing Pap to pick ticks off his head.
    “Let’s see, Dump,” Pap said, taking Dump on his lap again, “where were we—tick number nine, and I believe that’s the last of them.”
    Pap twisted Dump’s ears around, checking for stray ticks. “One more, baby tick. There. That’s the lot.”
    Pap scratched Dump behind the ears. Pap always knew where dogs liked to be scratched. He got it right first time, every time. Mud liked to be scratched on his back, just above the tail. This was a behind-theears dog.
    As Pap scratched, Dump lifted his back leg and made scratching motions in the air.
    “You’re a nice little dog,” Pap said. “Good dog.”
    Outside the Dumpster, Mud heard the words “Good dog” and it set his tail in motion too. It was instinct, however, not happiness that wagged Mud’s tail. Mud was miserable. His eye hurt and his ear throbbed, but what hurt most was the knowledge that Pap had another dog in the Dumpster. Mud gave one of those sharp single barks that