The Puzzle Master by Heather Spiva Page A

her white arms and legs, pale in the light, her hair hanging around her face. She looked like a doll, a real-life china doll. And so fragile, like if she tripped or something, she would break into a hundred pieces.
    “Guess what?” he finally asked. “You get to come to my house.”
    Her face drew back into a smile. Her brown eyes were soft and clear. “When?”
    “Right now. Just talked to your Uncle, and my mom. She has to go to the doctor’s. Said something about Leila having a fever. Nothing like the first week of school to contract all sorts of germs.”
    Iris paused. “She’s sick?” Suddenly, Iris was paler than Marshall had ever seen her.
    “Yeah, just a little fever. No big deal. Why? What’s the matter?”
    She looked like she was about to say something, but closed her lips and bit them. “Nothing, nothing.” She looked back at the picture. “Just hope she’s okay, is all.”
    They grabbed their backpacks, and walked to his house. He pointed out the Williams twins’ home, and all sorts of other people he knew, friends she might meet at school.
    He grabbed the house key from inside a flowerpot, and opened up the house. It was hot, like outside, and felt muggy. The house smelled like egg salad sandwich and Marshall apologized for it. “My sister just loves egg salad,” he said with a roll of his voice. “Bet she asked for that before they left. She gets whatever she wants.”
    Iris looked around the house. It was small and cluttered. There were way too many knick-knacks and odds and ends, but it was homey and clean; just the way every house should feel when three children lived there. And Iris instantly loved it.
    “What’s wrong with egg salad?” Iris asked, looking at a clock in the shape of a cat. There were about fifteen plants sitting in the kitchen window. Most of them looked like they needed water, but Iris didn’t mention it.
    “Nothing.” Marshall didn’t know why he was being so mean. His sister was sick. Least he could do was be nice about it. “Anyway, mom wants me home. She doesn’t like us all out at once. Especially when dad’s out of town.”
    “ What’s he do ?”
    “Works for a bank. New accounts, or something.” Iris nodded, and they headed to his room. “Mom doesn’t mean anything by it. I think she feels better when I’m home.”
    Iris walked through the doorway. “Your mom depends on you. Why not your brother?”
    Marshall shrugged. “Don’t know.” Honestly, that was a good question. And he hadn’t ever thought about it until Iris asked. “So,” and he nodded to his bed, “That one’s mine. The other is Mason’s. He’s at football practice right now, so he won’t be coming home anytime soon.”
    She sat on the edge of Mason’s bed and looked at his bookshelf. “You like to read?”
    “Yeah, when Mason or Leila’s not bugging me to death about something or another.”
    She slumped to the floor and looked up at the ceiling. On the top of the ceiling above his bed, was a puzzle. It was a picture of a beach, with the setting sun behind the water, palm trees to the left and right
    “How’s it doing that?” she asked, mouth opening, her wide eyes growing wider. “How’d you get it to stay there?’
    He lay down on his bed with a sigh. “Oh yeah, that’s with this special puzzle glue. It’s a spray, and you put it over the puzzle so when it’s dry, you can frame it or put it anywhere practically and it stays together. Neat huh?”
    She nodded. “That’s what we need for our puzzles. That way we can look at them hanging from a wall.”
    “ S’pose so,” he said. He rolled over and faced her. His inhaler had loosened up his pocket so it was practically sitting out in full view on the bed.  But when he rolled again, it popped onto the floor and sounded like it shattered. He knew there was no way she had missed it.
    Marshall scrambled himself off the bed and sprung for it, before it rolled under Mason’s bed. He hoped she hadn’t seen it.