Finders Keepers Read Online Free PDF Page B

You wouldn’t know about rain because you’re from Arizona. Rain smells nice because it kicks up bacteria from the ground, and the bacteria smell good, kind of sweet, actually.”
    â€œNow that’s stupid.” He picked the crust from his sandwich without breaking it, leaving a perfect square on his plate.
    â€œMy mom’s a science teacher. She told me.”
    â€œDough smells good because water kicks the yeast around, and it makes the smell of dough. My family’s pizza is so good because we got the recipe from Italian people in Chicago.”
    I’d been wanting to ask Alex about his family and gangsters since our visit to the bait shop. This was my chance. “Were the Italian people gangsters?”
    Alex chewed fast and hard. “I don’t know. Who cares? That was like a hundred years ago. If my family knew gangsters, they were probably trying to reform them.”
    â€œMaybe that’s why your grandpa wants to donate all the gangster money to the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame. He wants to do something good with bad money.”
    â€œThere isn’t any gangster money!” Potato chip crumbs flew from his mouth as he talked. “I asked my dad about everything the sheriff said at the bait shop. My dad said small towns are rumor mills, and that’s partly why he left. He said everything started from one stupid picture. One night Al Capone ate dinner at Clarks Fine Dining, and my great grandpa asked if they could get a picture taken together because Capone was famous. So they did, and my great grandpa hung it on the wall. That was it. He served Capone a steak, and they took a picture.”
    â€œDid you ask your grandpa about it?”
    â€œI asked my dad. Why would I ask my grandpa?”
    â€œYour dad wasn’t even born then. Your grandpa is closer to the real story.”
    â€œI just told you the real story.”
    â€œThen why do people keep rummaging around the basement of the restaurant?”
    He kept me waiting while he chugged his soda. “Because people here are stupid.”
    I couldn’t believe those words came from his mouth. I wanted to throw potato chips at him, but I was too afraid of Mr. Edmund Clark. I slipped my hands between my legs and the chair so I wouldn’t use them for trouble. “You get to live here and you don’t even know how lucky you are!”
    â€œWhy do you like it here so much?”
    â€œBecause it’s awesome!”
    â€œWhat’s so awesome about it? I don’t see anything awesome.”
    â€œIf it wasn’t thundering, we could play in the rain. Playing in the rain is awesome.”
    Alex brought his plate to the sink and sort of slammed it against the counter. He stood in front of the window, his back to me, watching the rain hammer the earth. Even if I tried to explain, he wouldn’t get it because he loved Arizona and probably had a hundred friends there and probably never got in trouble at school.
    I loved the Northwoods for so many reasons. At the cabin my parents belonged to me instead of their students. There weren’t any girls at Whitefish Lake telling me my clothes didn’t match or that my hair looked funny. In school, I had to sit on my hands to keep them from causing trouble. My hands could do anything at the cabin because they didn’t have to be wrapped around a stupid pencil. And for a long time, I had the world’s best cabin friend. Amelia My Sister.
    Alex shoved his fists in his pockets. “I don’t like the rain, and my dad says it rains half the summer. Dad likes it dry. He doesn’t like ice or snow or rain or lakes or pine trees.”
    â€œWhy’d he come back if he hates it so much?”
    â€œGrandpa’s old and sick, and my grandma’s been dead since my dad was a kid, so I guess Grandpa’s pretty lonely. Mom wants them to make peace. And Dad thought it’d be good to own a restaurant instead of work