The Election-Day Disaster Read Online Free PDF Page A

without me,” Marshall said. “Now where’s that Choca-Moca you promised?”
    “Do you believe Simon?” KC asked. “I mean about not sending those pictures we saw on TV?”
    “Yeah, I do,” Marshall said.
    KC collected the dirty napkins. “I believe him, too,” she said quietly.
    Just then they heard a loud engine roar on the other side of the hedge wherethey’d placed their blanket. KC stood on tiptoe and looked over the bushes. “It’s Arnold on his motorcycle,” she said.
    “I want a motorcycle when I turn sixteen,” Marshall said. He watched Arnold jog toward the guard hut, carrying his helmet. “Only I wouldn’t wear a green helmet like his. It makes him look like a bug or something. I’d get a shiny red one.”
    “Oh my gosh!” KC yelled.
    “Okay, maybe not red,” Marshall went on. “Purple is cool, too.”
    KC grabbed Marshall by the arm and dragged him down onto the blanket.
    “Marshall, listen!” KC hissed. “Think back to last night when we first saw the green octopus. There was something about that costume that wasn’t right. Can you remember what it was?”
    “Everything,” Marshall said. “Plastic strips, stuffed arms that looked like green sausages, black shoes …”
    “Yes! Shiny black shoes!” KC said. “Like marines wear here at the White House. Like Arnold wears every day.”
    “What made you think of Arnold’s shoes now?” Marshall asked.
    “Because I saw his green motorcycle helmet,” KC said. “It was exactly like the one the octopus wore last night. That was Arnold in the green costume, and I just remembered his black shoes!”
    Marshall stared at KC. “Arnold is the octopus?” he whispered.
    KC nodded. Her eyes slid toward the guard hut. “I’d give anything to hear what he and Sergeant Royce are talking about.”
    “Well, you can’t, so forget—”
    KC stood up and grabbed Marshall’s sleeve. “Come on, and stay below the hedge!”
    “Where are we going?” he squeaked. “Oh, I know. I see jail time in my future. Who needs high school or college?”
    With KC leading, the kids scooted from the hedge to the side of the guard hut. The window was too high for either of them to be able to peek inside.
    KC looked around. She smiled when she spied a trash barrel. Using hand signals, she got Marshall to help her place it under the window.
    Marshall held the barrel while KC climbed up and kneeled on the top.
    Leaning against the building for balance, KC peeked through the screen. Arnold and Sergeant Royce were facingeach other, talking. Sergeant Royce’s face was red. Arnold’s face looked pale.

    “Well, what’s going on in there?” Marshall whispered.
    KC turned to answer and the trash barrel tipped. KC fell off. The metal barrel clanged loudly as it hit the ground.
    Sergeant Royce’s face appeared in the window.
    “What are you kids doing out there?” he asked. He sounded angry.
    KC stood up and rubbed her bottom, where she’d landed hard. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.
    Marshall was frozen like a statue a few feet away.
    “Please come in, Miss Corcoran and Mr. Li,” Sergeant Royce said.

7
The Octopus Speaks
    KC and Marshall walked around to the door. “Nice going,” Marshall whispered. “KC, this reminds me of when Hansel and Gretel walked into the witch’s hut.”
    Sergeant Royce opened the door. “Have a seat,” he said. “I hope you like stories, because Corporal West has one to tell you.”
    KC and Marshall sat at the table across from Arnold. He was in full uniform, and his digital camera was on the table in front of him.
    “I didn’t know your last name was West,” KC said to Arnold.
    Arnold nodded. His face had gonefrom pale yellow to pink, like a sunset.
    Sergeant Royce sat in the remaining chair. He crossed his long legs. “Okay, get it off your chest, Corporal West,” he said.
    If KC hadn’t been so upset, she would have laughed at the accidental poem.
    Arnold took a deep breath. “I had forgotten all about the