said, “Is it really that timealready? I'll bet there's something I'm supposed to be doing, and if not, I'll bet I'm going to pretend there is. You three keep having fun. Never stop dreaming!”
Dad closed the door and thought, “I wonder if Russell has been setting any more food-eating records? What an imagination!”
Richelle gave Steven and Russell a very disappointed look. “So much for us keeping this secret. You two have got the biggest—”
The bedroom door came open. Mr. Carter said, “Cowboy talk and dog talk all blended together?”
“Yes, Mr. Carter. But I can't remember what it was.”
“Hmmm,” Steven's dad said, “cowboy talk and dog talk all jumbled together. Why is that ringing a bell?”
Dad snapped his fingers and said, “I know! That sounds a lot like the lyrics from one of our underappreciated musical geniuses from the mid-sixties, George Clinton.”
Steven groaned.
“In perhaps his most famous song, ‘Atomic Dog,’ released May 10, 1970, he used the unlikely combination of cowboy vernacular and doggish sounds to produce a classic.”
Russell said, “What's a vernacular?”
Steven didn't know, but he sure wasn't trying to look anything up in Great-great-grampa Carter's cranky old dictionary. He said, “I'll explain it to you later, Russell. Well, Dad, we were just getting ready to do some research on …”
But Dad wasn't through. Steven thought that was one ofthe problems with old people, once they got started rolling down a road on something, they didn't stop till they were at the end.
“Vernacular is the everyday language of a particular group of people, Russell. In this case it means cowboy language. Let's see, maybe I can sing a bit of it for you.”
Steven was horrified! Who wanted to come and listen to someone's father sing musty old songs from the Stone Age?
Dad cleared his throat and sang, “A-tom-ic daw-uh-awg, bow-wow-wow-yippee-yo-yippee-yay, bow-wow-yippee-yo-yippee-yay …”
Russell screamed, “That's it! That's what Rod-Rode said before he disappeared into the mural!”
Richelle said, “I hereby call this meeting of the Flint Future Detectives over! All members are to put on your coats and boots, go home and get permission to meet at Halo Burger in ten minutes. Or if you can't get permission, you have to figure out a way to sneak out and meet us there in fifteen minutes.”
Dad said, “Hey, wait a minute, I heard what you said!”
Richelle said, “We know, Mr. Carter, but you're so cool we know you won't rat us out on this important mission.”
Steven looked at Richelle like she was nuts. His father? Cool? Not even Dad would buy that nonsense.
Dad smiled ridiculously and said, “Why, thank you, Richelle, how perceptive of you to know I used to be known as Daddy Cool when I was a bit younger! I guess that's something that fades a bit but never goes completely away,huh? And you're right, I'm not going to rat you out. Just don't be long and be very careful.”
Dad left the room.
Russell said, “If we're gonna look in that window with that elf, we need to take a stepladder or something to stand on, it's pretty high up.”
Steven said, “We can use what I use to reach things on the high shelf in the book room, Great-great-grampa Carter's dictionary.”
Richelle said, “All right, gentlemen, Halo Burger, fifteen minutes.”
If Richelle Cyrus-Herndon Jumped off a Five-Story Building, I Suppose You'd Follow Her Then Too? or Welcome,
Whose
Highness?
B Y THE TIME R ICHELLE got to the sidewalk on Saginaw Street, Steven and Russell were already waiting. Russell's head was shooting from side to side like he was expecting to be attacked at any minute. Steven was squeezing a large book to his chest, trying hard not to look too scared but failing miserably.
“Good,” Richelle said, “I thought you guys might've started without me.”
Russell looked at Steven and Steven looked at Russell.
Russell said, “Are you kidding, Madam President? I was waiting
Dad closed the door and thought, “I wonder if Russell has been setting any more food-eating records? What an imagination!”
Richelle gave Steven and Russell a very disappointed look. “So much for us keeping this secret. You two have got the biggest—”
The bedroom door came open. Mr. Carter said, “Cowboy talk and dog talk all blended together?”
“Yes, Mr. Carter. But I can't remember what it was.”
“Hmmm,” Steven's dad said, “cowboy talk and dog talk all jumbled together. Why is that ringing a bell?”
Dad snapped his fingers and said, “I know! That sounds a lot like the lyrics from one of our underappreciated musical geniuses from the mid-sixties, George Clinton.”
Steven groaned.
“In perhaps his most famous song, ‘Atomic Dog,’ released May 10, 1970, he used the unlikely combination of cowboy vernacular and doggish sounds to produce a classic.”
Russell said, “What's a vernacular?”
Steven didn't know, but he sure wasn't trying to look anything up in Great-great-grampa Carter's cranky old dictionary. He said, “I'll explain it to you later, Russell. Well, Dad, we were just getting ready to do some research on …”
But Dad wasn't through. Steven thought that was one ofthe problems with old people, once they got started rolling down a road on something, they didn't stop till they were at the end.
“Vernacular is the everyday language of a particular group of people, Russell. In this case it means cowboy language. Let's see, maybe I can sing a bit of it for you.”
Steven was horrified! Who wanted to come and listen to someone's father sing musty old songs from the Stone Age?
Dad cleared his throat and sang, “A-tom-ic daw-uh-awg, bow-wow-wow-yippee-yo-yippee-yay, bow-wow-yippee-yo-yippee-yay …”
Russell screamed, “That's it! That's what Rod-Rode said before he disappeared into the mural!”
Richelle said, “I hereby call this meeting of the Flint Future Detectives over! All members are to put on your coats and boots, go home and get permission to meet at Halo Burger in ten minutes. Or if you can't get permission, you have to figure out a way to sneak out and meet us there in fifteen minutes.”
Dad said, “Hey, wait a minute, I heard what you said!”
Richelle said, “We know, Mr. Carter, but you're so cool we know you won't rat us out on this important mission.”
Steven looked at Richelle like she was nuts. His father? Cool? Not even Dad would buy that nonsense.
Dad smiled ridiculously and said, “Why, thank you, Richelle, how perceptive of you to know I used to be known as Daddy Cool when I was a bit younger! I guess that's something that fades a bit but never goes completely away,huh? And you're right, I'm not going to rat you out. Just don't be long and be very careful.”
Dad left the room.
Russell said, “If we're gonna look in that window with that elf, we need to take a stepladder or something to stand on, it's pretty high up.”
Steven said, “We can use what I use to reach things on the high shelf in the book room, Great-great-grampa Carter's dictionary.”
Richelle said, “All right, gentlemen, Halo Burger, fifteen minutes.”
If Richelle Cyrus-Herndon Jumped off a Five-Story Building, I Suppose You'd Follow Her Then Too? or Welcome,
Whose
Highness?
B Y THE TIME R ICHELLE got to the sidewalk on Saginaw Street, Steven and Russell were already waiting. Russell's head was shooting from side to side like he was expecting to be attacked at any minute. Steven was squeezing a large book to his chest, trying hard not to look too scared but failing miserably.
“Good,” Richelle said, “I thought you guys might've started without me.”
Russell looked at Steven and Steven looked at Russell.
Russell said, “Are you kidding, Madam President? I was waiting
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