A Fish Named Yum by Mary Elise Monsell

1
    Monday was quiet in Smiling Sally’s Diner. But not for long. Mr. Pin had just polished off a stack of caramel fudge pancakes, leaving out the fudge. Mr. Pin had gained some weight since his arrival in Chicago. He had decided to cut back until he could see his feet—webbed feet, that is.
    Mr. Pin was a rockhopper penguin, mostly black and white with long yellow plumes on both sides of his head. Some time ago, he had left the South Pole to be a detective in Chicago. After gangsters tried to blow up Smiling Sally’s Diner, Mr. Pin moved into the room next to the kitchen. It would be soon enough when crime came by the diner again.
    But back to Monday.
    Sally was in the kitchen experimenting with chocolate chip cookies. Meanwhile, hiding from the smell of chocolate, Mr. Pin was in the basement conducting his own experiments. He was measuring the growth of his prized collection of philodendron plants.
    Above his underground plant laboratory huge grow lights dangled from pipes and heating ducts. All around were sacks of potting soil, shovels, and organic spider mite spray. Next to the plant supplies lay sacks of flour and instant chocolate pudding mix piled chest high. Sally wanted Mr. Pin to help her get rid of it. She had bought it from Pete, the chicken man, and the pudding tasted awful. But Mr. Pin couldn’t quite bring himself to throw out chocolate, even bad chocolate. Besides, every now and then truckers borrowed some of it to fill potholes in the alley.
    Mr. Pin inserted a water sensor into the soil of a clay pot.
    Hisssss-spurt! Strange sound, thought Mr. Pin. Was it a gas leak? Detecting no telltale smell, Mr. Pin looked for other clues. Then his feet started to get wet. Looking at the floor he realized the horrible truth. Smiling Sally’s Diner had sprung a leak!
    Ever alert, Mr. Pin studied the situation. This was no ordinary leak. Water spouted like Buckingham Fountain through a crack in the floor. The crack widened and a small fish popped out. Thinking fast, Mr. Pin picked up the fish by its flopping tail and dropped it into a mason jar. He filled the jar with clean plant water.

    Meanwhile, the leak was beginning to grow. It grew larger and larger, swelling into a small river zigzagging through the flour sacks. Mr. Pin moved some of the sacks on top of the crack, hoping to stop the flow. For now, things were under control.… Until all of a sudden, things got worse. Much worse. The grow lights went out! His plants were in total darkness!

2
    Without light his plants were in grave danger. But an even greater danger lurked beneath the concrete floor.
    Mr. Pin tucked the mason jar—with the fish swimming in tight circles—under his wing and went up to the diner. He put the fish on the counter and picked up the phone. His first call was to Herb’s Bionic Garden. His second call was to Shedd Aquarium. The third call was to a plumber. After that, the phone went dead.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked Maggie. She was Sally’s niece who lived upstairs and often helped Mr. Pin with his cases. “The phone’s dead and my CB radio is out to lunch. Who’s the fish?”
    â€œDoesn’t have a name yet,” said Mr. Pin.
    Sally came out of the kitchen looking worried. “My cookies are half-baked,” she said.
    â€œHardly,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œSo where’d you find the fish?” asked Maggie.
    â€œIn the basement.”
    â€œWhat bait did you use?” asked Maggie, believing almost anything was possible with Mr. Pin—even fishing in the basement.
    â€œI don’t know. Probably chocolate pudding. Actually,” said Mr. Pin, “it popped through the floor when the leak started.”
    â€œWhat leak?” asked Sally.
    â€œIt’s more like a flood.”
    â€œFlood?”
    â€œIn the basement,” said Mr. Pin.
    â€œIs that why we don’t have electricity?” asked Sally. “Nothing works in my