The Doctor Dines in Prague Read Online Free PDF Page B

the last thing he wanted was a pizza. As he stared at the card, slowly his grimace reshaped itself into a broad grin. “Can you ride a bicycle?” he asked.
    Puzzled, she nodded.

    Poor kid probably thinks I’ve flipped, thought Fenimore. With the help of the dictionary and a few awkward sketches, he outlined his plan.
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    Milo, the pizza delivery boy, was more than happy to help out. Their pizza had been the last delivery of his shift. For ten dollars, all he had to do was lend his white cap, his jacket, and his bicycle to Marie, and stay in the apartment playing video games for two hours—about the time it would take them to go to the passport office, do their business, and return. The jacket was too big for Marie, but with a sweatshirt underneath it didn’t look too bad. Her jeans and sneakers were much the same as the boy’s. But she had to do something with her hair. It was shoulder-length. Marie solved the problem by pulling it back into a ponytail and tucking it up under the cap. Fenimore inspected her closely. A bit young to be delivering pizza, but she would ride by in a flash, and since the spy would not be looking for a pizza delivery boy, they probably wouldn’t give her a second glance.
    The plan was for Fenimore to leave first, by the front door. Go to the pay phone at the corner and call a taxi. When the taxi arrived, Fenimore would call the apartment, let the phone ring twice and hang up. That was the signal for Marie to leave by the back door, ride the bike down the alley and around the corner to where he would be waiting. Fenimore would store the pizza uniform in a shopping bag and they would take the cab to the passport office. But, what about the bike? They couldn’t leave it on the curb. Prague, like any big city, had petty thieves. Fenimore decided that ten minutes after Marie left, Milo should leave by the back door, stroll around the corner, and pick up his bike. Then he would ride it back to the apartment and park it in the alley. Fenimore found the key to the back door on the ring of keys, detached it, and gave it to Milo. Fenimore checked to make sure he had everything: passport application, birth certificate, photos, and shopping bag. Before leaving, he looked down the alley one last time. It was empty, except for a line of dark-green trash cans.

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    Everything went according to plan. There was no trouble at the passport office, either. By the time Fenimore and Marie returned home, it was dark, and Fenimore thought it was safe to let the cab drop them at the entrance to the alley. When they knocked at the back door, Milo, immersed in his video game, took a while to answer. After the third knock, the boy came to the door. Fenimore was a nervous wreck. But he gave the boy his ten dollars in korunas, thanked him for his help, and ordered a sýr pizza to be delivered at noon the next day.
    Exhausted, Fenimore fell asleep on the couch early, but Marie—excited after her first day out in over two weeks—stayed up, playing solitaire late into the night.

CHAPTER 8
    F enimore woke early, feeling refreshed. Marie slept on. This gave him some time to work out the breakfast problem. He had not gone to the store yesterday for several reasons. First, his time had been taken up with passport drivel; second, he was afraid to leave Marie home alone and he was also afraid to take her with him. Either one was risky. And he couldn’t ask Milo to come to their rescue again. And the thought of pizza for breakfast made his stomach lurch. He opened the kitchen cabinets one by one, scanning their meager contents. A giggle interrupted him. Marie stood in the doorway, staring at his legs. He looked down. All he had on was his long johns. He had removed his trousers the night before to avoid wrinkling them. After all, they were brand new.
    â€œIn America, this is what everyone wears to bed,” he told her with a straight face. “Here.” He took out the