Call Me Amy Read Online Free PDF Page B

because half the town is hoping ol’ Howie will overlook their little crimes.”
    â€œMaybe he could help?”
    â€œNo way. Howie’s not finding out. And it would take forever for those Federal guys to get here. That time the Percys had questions about their blue lobster, it took them a stinkin’ week to show up.” Craig liftedand shook his legs, one at a time, in an attempt to dry them faster, then glanced at me.
    â€œSo let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” I said, looking down. “You’re breaking the law and could get arrested.”
    â€œIf you wanna think of it that way. I think of it as saving Pup’s life.” Craig looked straight into my eyes again. “Would you have left Pup to die?”
    I glanced away, those blue eyes making me nervous, and thought some more. My dad was always talking with his friend Howard. He was part of the little group my parents got together with. Mom enjoyed having fancy dinner parties while I hid up in my room, bored out of my brain, munching junk food. No, they wouldn’t feel right keeping information from Howard. And from what I’d heard, Howard went straight by the book. If there was something wrong going on, no matter how trivial, he took after it like it was a mass murder. Regardless, now that I’d met Pup, I had to help save him.

6
    W E CONTINUED WALKING towards the pier while Craig and I went back and forth discussing everyone who lived in the Port. No place seemed right for an illegal seal.
    And then I thought of the perfect location. Would a house filled with tiny china animals, including a few marine species, have room for a real one?
    â€œI know who might help us.”
    â€œGreat,” said Craig. “Who?”
    I took a deep breath and said, “Miss Cogshell.”
    Craig widened his eyes and then broke into that grin of his.
    â€œYou’ve gotta be kidding. Old Coot? She’d probably brew him in a pot.”
    â€œI used to feel that way, but she’s okay once you get to know her.”
    â€œNah.” Craig shook his head like I was crazy, then jerked his bangs up. “Do you?”
    â€œDo I what?”
    â€œKnow her?” Craig’s voice impatient.
    â€œOh, well, um . . . not really.” I looked down at my sneakers. Maybe someday I’d be brave enough to answer those kind of questions with, “Sure. Want to make something of it?” Then again, Miss Cogshell could hate real animals for all I knew. There weren’t even any cats around her place. Maybe she was allergic. I was standing there feeling crummy when an even better idea hit me.
    â€œI’ve got it. Down behind her house there’s an old woodshed. Real private.”
    â€œI’ve seen it.” Craig nodded, turning to go. “I’ll get him in there tonight.”
    â€œWhat about me?” I asked.
    â€œI’m doing it around midnight,” he tossed over his shoulder. “A little past your bedtime, Shrimp.”
    I watched him go up the road in his soggy jeans, and wondered what his problem was. If he could get out at midnight, so could I. Besides, it was my idea to use the woodshed.
    That night, after filling three pages of my diary, I stretched out on top of my bed, fully dressed, my alarm set for 11:30 p.m. I figured I could get a little sleep. Wrong. Instead I tossed and turned, glancing at the glowing dial of my clock radio, for what seemed like hours.
    After I finally drifted off, soft music woke me with a start. I dove over and turned off “Crocodile Rock” before the sound could reach my sleeping family. Grabbing a flashlight and my sneakers, I listened to Nancy’s snoring for a moment at her door. Then I tiptoed down the stairs, stretching over the creaky third step.
    Once outside, I slipped into my sneakers. Racing down the hill under the dark pines gave me the creeps, but once I broke through to the road, I saw it was almost a full moon and quite