Us and Uncle Fraud by Lois Lowry

carefully from a slice of ham and put it on the side of my plate. It fascinated me that some people—Marcus, for example—
could eat fat. I couldn't even stand the feel of it in my mouth. "Was he teasing when he said he'd been at the edge of the Baltic Sea?"
    "It's hard to know, Louise," Mother said. "Claude drifts around so much—he's been to all sorts of places. I think it's quite likely that he's been to the edge of the Baltic Sea. Probably it was true."
    "Could he have been to Russia, even?"
    "It's possible. As he says, he's a traveling man. And once he did bring me an embroidered blouse—remember that, Matt? A beautiful blouse, made somewhere in Eastern Europe. Maybe Russia. It was before you were born, Louise."
    That seemed to confirm Claude's veracity. He had brought the jeweled eggs out of Russia years ago, when it was still a Technicolor land, and had saved them, waiting for just the right people to give them to. He'd been waiting for us to be born.
    "Well," I said with satisfaction, "then I'm quite sure he wasn't lying about the gift. I just wish he hadn't hidden it so well. Did he hide your blouse when he brought it to you?"
    Mother laughed. "No. He had it in his suitcase, wrapped in newspaper, and he whipped it out with a big flourish. He was so delighted with it. I was, too, of course."
    The telephone rang. Father pushed his chair back and went to the hall to answer it; we could hear his voice as he talked, and then he came back with his coat on.
    "I have to go down to the office, Hallie," he said. "Save me some of that ham."
    "Matt! It's almost seven o'clock on a Sunday night! Won't it wait till morning?"
    Tom was up, out of his chair. "Can I go with you?"
    "Do you have homework, Thomas?" Mother asked.
    Tom shook his head. "It's all done. Can I go, Father?"
    "Come on. Hurry. We have a big story breaking. There was a robbery last night; they've just discovered it. The police are still there."
    He and Tom were at the front door. I was filled with excitement; there had never been robberies in our town. Our big news always consisted of flood damage, failed crops, rabid dogs, or an author or politician making a speech at the college.
    I ran to the hall, opened the door, and called after them as they headed to the car.
    "Where was it, Father? Did someone rob the bank?"
    He turned, hesitated, and then shrugged. No harm in telling me, I could sense him thinking, since it would be in the morning paper anyway. He called out hurriedly where the robbery had been.
    "Tell your mother not to wait up for me," he added. "I'll be late."
    I gulped, waved half-heartedly to Father, went back to the table, and poked at the slick, glistening
rims of fat on the edge of my plate. Mother and Marcus stared at me. Even Stephanie, in her high chair, looked at me curiously.
    "Well?" Mother said after a moment. "What did Father say? We could hear you call to him from the front door."
    Studiously I avoided looking at Marcus. Instead, I stared straight at Mother, my eyes as innocent as Stephie's. "Nothing much," I told her. "Someone robbed the Leboffs' house last night.
    "What's for dessert?" I asked loudly. "I'm going to throw up if I eat any more Easter eggs."

8
    Marcus and I cornered Kenny Stratton on the playground at recess. Kenny was an awkward, unpopular fifth-grader with a nervous twitch in one eyebrow, so that he lowered and raised it constantly, as if he were emphasizing the inane things he had to say. Marcus liked him, for some reason; he felt sorry for Kenny, whose mother had died years ago. The two Stratton children—Kenny and his older sister—kept house for their father in a shabby, two-family house at the edge of town. They both bragged about their father's association with the wealthy Leboff family; their bragging was undermined by the fact their clothes, hair, and hands were often in need of a good scrubbing.
    Kenny had been boasting all morning, Marcus said, about his father's role in the discovery