more way for Mr. and Mrs. Dearborn to make their son weird. It was like they were
trying
!
His piece of lasagna was huge, but he wolfed down every bite. Afterward, he walked to the middle window. Opening it as wide as it would go, he leaned way out, inhaling the air in deep sucking gulps. It was as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time he’d been away.
And then he felt it. That slight drop in temperature. Coming from
behind
.
“The lad’s back!” roared a familiar voice, so close Lewis felt the spray on his cheek. Crawley’s battered face loomed into view. “I
knew
he’d not let us down. Didn’t I say so, Skittles?”
Lewis whirled to face them.
“Aye,” agreed Skittles, emerging from his cloud.
The others were showing themselves, too. “The lad’s back, aye, he’s back.”
“I can smell him,” snarled Jack the Rat, pushing through to sniff at Lewis. “He smells like fear!”
It was true. Fear snaked up Lewis’s spine like an electric eel. He had forgotten how it felt to be closed in by these ghostly shapes, with their bizarre faces and pungent smells. His leg muscles tensed, ready to run.
The only thing that stopped him was the voice in his head. It told him that if he left now, he’d never come back.
Trembling, he held his ground. His fingers clutched the windowsill behind him.
“Now
that’s
the spirit!” Crawley clapped with delight. “Look at him, clinging there like a barnacle. He’ll be a grand help, he will.”
The captain did a strange little dance, leaping about as if his boots were on fire. It was like a signal to the others, who began cheering and smacking each other on the backs.
Lewis stared in shock. They were celebrating! They thought he’d come back to
help
them.
“Enough!” yelled Crawley. He turned to Lewis. “What’s the plan, lad? I likes a good plan!”
“Aye, tell us the plan!” echoed the others. They crowded in close, waiting for Lewis to speak.
For a moment, it was like being in school. Lewis felt his throat tighten. Then he remembered—they were adults. He was used to talking to adults. And they weren’t even
real
adults.
“I don’t … don’t have a plan,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Then, seeing their faces cloud over, he added, “Not yet!”
“Not yet?” Crawley took a moment to consider this. “Well, that’s fine.” He squinted at Lewis with his good eye. “But when?”
“I don’t know!” blurted Lewis. “I have to think!”
“Think?” shouted Jack the Rat. “What’s the use of
thinking
?”
“Hssst, Jack!” hissed the captain. “It’s good the lad is pondering it out. We doesn’t want a half-cooked plan, does we?”
Jack grimaced and scratched his armpit.
Lewis’s body stood rigid, but his mind raced. What if he
could
come up with a plan? One that would get the pirates to their ship all on their own? Without involving him?
He could get rid of them for good!
An idea flickered. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
The pirates shifted to let him through. He raced downstairs and shuffled through a magazine rack. Seconds later, he was back.
“Here,” he said. “A map. It’s Tandy Bay. I can show you a way that avoids most of the traffic.” Opening the map, he held it out to Crawley.
Crawley glanced over, then crossed his arms. “That’s of no use, lad.”
“Why not?” asked Lewis. “I could mark it for you. Show you the whole route.”
The other pirates gathered to examine the map.
“Lookee there,” said Moyle. “All them words.”
“So many of ’em,” said Jonas.
“Too many!” muttered Jack.
Lewis pointed. “See? Here’s the town hall and—”
“Didn’t I
tell
you the lad could read?” Moyle smiled proudly at the others. “Talks like a book, don’t he?”
The others nodded, impressed.
Suddenly, Lewis got it. “You mean … you can’t read?”
The pirates laughed.
“Now where would we be learning that?” asked Skittles. “Us that had
trying
!
His piece of lasagna was huge, but he wolfed down every bite. Afterward, he walked to the middle window. Opening it as wide as it would go, he leaned way out, inhaling the air in deep sucking gulps. It was as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time he’d been away.
And then he felt it. That slight drop in temperature. Coming from
behind
.
“The lad’s back!” roared a familiar voice, so close Lewis felt the spray on his cheek. Crawley’s battered face loomed into view. “I
knew
he’d not let us down. Didn’t I say so, Skittles?”
Lewis whirled to face them.
“Aye,” agreed Skittles, emerging from his cloud.
The others were showing themselves, too. “The lad’s back, aye, he’s back.”
“I can smell him,” snarled Jack the Rat, pushing through to sniff at Lewis. “He smells like fear!”
It was true. Fear snaked up Lewis’s spine like an electric eel. He had forgotten how it felt to be closed in by these ghostly shapes, with their bizarre faces and pungent smells. His leg muscles tensed, ready to run.
The only thing that stopped him was the voice in his head. It told him that if he left now, he’d never come back.
Trembling, he held his ground. His fingers clutched the windowsill behind him.
“Now
that’s
the spirit!” Crawley clapped with delight. “Look at him, clinging there like a barnacle. He’ll be a grand help, he will.”
The captain did a strange little dance, leaping about as if his boots were on fire. It was like a signal to the others, who began cheering and smacking each other on the backs.
Lewis stared in shock. They were celebrating! They thought he’d come back to
help
them.
“Enough!” yelled Crawley. He turned to Lewis. “What’s the plan, lad? I likes a good plan!”
“Aye, tell us the plan!” echoed the others. They crowded in close, waiting for Lewis to speak.
For a moment, it was like being in school. Lewis felt his throat tighten. Then he remembered—they were adults. He was used to talking to adults. And they weren’t even
real
adults.
“I don’t … don’t have a plan,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Then, seeing their faces cloud over, he added, “Not yet!”
“Not yet?” Crawley took a moment to consider this. “Well, that’s fine.” He squinted at Lewis with his good eye. “But when?”
“I don’t know!” blurted Lewis. “I have to think!”
“Think?” shouted Jack the Rat. “What’s the use of
thinking
?”
“Hssst, Jack!” hissed the captain. “It’s good the lad is pondering it out. We doesn’t want a half-cooked plan, does we?”
Jack grimaced and scratched his armpit.
Lewis’s body stood rigid, but his mind raced. What if he
could
come up with a plan? One that would get the pirates to their ship all on their own? Without involving him?
He could get rid of them for good!
An idea flickered. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
The pirates shifted to let him through. He raced downstairs and shuffled through a magazine rack. Seconds later, he was back.
“Here,” he said. “A map. It’s Tandy Bay. I can show you a way that avoids most of the traffic.” Opening the map, he held it out to Crawley.
Crawley glanced over, then crossed his arms. “That’s of no use, lad.”
“Why not?” asked Lewis. “I could mark it for you. Show you the whole route.”
The other pirates gathered to examine the map.
“Lookee there,” said Moyle. “All them words.”
“So many of ’em,” said Jonas.
“Too many!” muttered Jack.
Lewis pointed. “See? Here’s the town hall and—”
“Didn’t I
tell
you the lad could read?” Moyle smiled proudly at the others. “Talks like a book, don’t he?”
The others nodded, impressed.
Suddenly, Lewis got it. “You mean … you can’t read?”
The pirates laughed.
“Now where would we be learning that?” asked Skittles. “Us that had
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