A Nose for Adventure Read Online Free Page B

one’s dog. She just hangs around here. She likes to take cab rides.”
    “You see?” says the first cabdriver. He opens the door to his cab, and a dog climbs out.
    Funny-looking dog – about the size of a police dog, but with huge pointy ears, like a bat. The ears stick straight up, and give the dog a permanently surprised expression.
    “Oh, the sweetie!” says Frieda.
    The old lady stamps on the ground with her cane. “But the … the
animal
has been inside the cab. I will not ride in a cab where an animal has been!”
    A man with a briefcase and cigar brushes past her. “I’ll ride with anything,” he says, getting into the first cab. “Borough courthouse,” he directs the driver. “And step on it.”
    The first cab drives off. Harvey gets back in his cab. The whole line of cabs moves forward. The old lady opens the door to Harvey’s cab. And Sally the dog climbs in.
    I look behind me. I don’t see Slouchy. People are milling around, complaining about the old lady, the delay, the humidity. I take a deep breath, and, oddly enough, feel myself carried away, out of the present. For a moment it’s as if nothing has gone wrong yet. I feel hopeful: my dad
is
waiting for me; we’ll shake hands and go to the hotel, where there’ll be a swimming pool and a video game player, and we’ll order room service, and I’ll get to stay up late.
    False hope.
    “Hi, there.”
    I’m back to reality – back to panic. It’s Slouchy. He’s caught up to us. He’s wearing a windbreaker and sunglasses. He slouches up to Frieda, smiling. One of his teeth is silver. It glints. “Here we are again,” he says.
    Frieda doesn’t answer. She rolls herself over to me for moral support. I hope she doesn’t want any other kind. Slouchy smiles at me too. And takes a candy bar from his pocket.
    “What a coincidence,” he says. “I’m just off work and you’re waiting for a lift. It’s … Frieda, right? Frieda Miller? I remember the name from your suitcase.”
    He smiles and unwraps the candy bar. She’s right. He
is
creepy.
    “Want a bite?” he asks. “I’ve got more in my pocket. This one’s caramel.”
    “No,” says Frieda.
    “I hope you don’t think I’m sore about that slap you gave me,” he says. “The mark’s gone, and I’ve totally forgotten about it. A misunderstanding. Friends, okay?”
    Frieda doesn’t say anything.
    “Say!” he exclaims, as if he’s just got the idea. “How about coming with me? I’ve got a car waiting. Me and my cousin would be happy to give you a ride home.”
    “That’s okay,” she says. “We can take a cab.”
    “Oh, but taxis are so expensive. And the drivers don’t always know where you want to go. Better come with us.”
    “No,” says Frieda.
    “We’ll save you taxi fare. Your parents will appreciate it. They’ll love you for saving them money – mark my words.”
    “They will?
My
parents?” Frieda laughs – not happily. “You don’t know them,” she says.
    Slouchy raises his hand and beckons. A blue car I haven’t noticed pulls up to the front of the cab rank. It looks like a whole lot of other cars, except for the pink tassel tied to the aerial.
    Slouchy opens the back door for us. “Come on,” he says. “You’ll be home in no time.”
    The driver is the skinny government employee with the long nose and the federal powers. “Plenty of room,” he rasps.
    All this time the taxis have been sliding forward, one at a time, like pop cans in a vending machine. The funny-looking dog, Sally, is frisking up and down the line, jumping in and out of the waiting cabs. The crabby old lady is tired and upset. Poor crabby old lady.
    Skinny’s car is ahead of all the cabs. Sally chases the old lady towards it. When she gets to the open door, she practically collapses onto Skinny’s backseat. “Thank you, thank you,” she says to Slouchy, who stares at her, openmouthed, his silver tooth gleaming. “I live at the Northwestern Hotel, in Manhattan,” she