Horns & Wrinkles Read Online Free

swinging into action, "it doesn't matter, Doc, and you know it." To Aunt Phyllis, he explained, "I've been taking pictures along this stretch of river for going on thirty years, seen stuff that turned my hair white, but none of it ever shows up on film."
    "There's not a white hair on your head," the doctor objected.
    "'Course not. I have to dye it about once a week, the stuff I've seen along this river."
    Snapping a shot of Duke's front and side, One-shot promised he'd run the film over to Dr. Moneybaker's residence before gnat time was over. (Around here, that's dusk.) The doctor waved the photographer on his way and turned his attention to Duke's ears, peering inside them with a light.
    "Is he going to be all right?" Aunt Phyllis asked.
    "Hard to say," Dr. Moneybaker said. "Sometimes this condition clears up all on its own, almost overnight. Sometimes it gets worse. Hooves have been known to develop." Pulling out a magnifying glass, he picked up one of Duke's hands for a look. "Nothing there yet."
    "Is that all?" Aunt Phyllis braced herself for the worst.
    "In about half of the cases I've seen," the doctor rambled on, checking down the back of Duke's pants, "patients have been known to disappear." Letting go of Duke's pants, he added, "No tail yet. We're not exactly sure what makes them disappear. Maybe they run away. Maybe they're taken. Sometimes there's a sign of struggle. All that we can say for positive is that once they're gone, they don't come back."
    "Heavens!" Aunt Phyllis gasped. "How can I not have heard of this? I'm a school nurse."
    "Oh, well, I see a case only once or twice a year at the most. And you know how hush-hush families get when they think something rivery is going on. The main thing is not to let him out of your sight." Reaching into a pocket, the doctor pulled out a purple dog leash. "This should help with that."
    "Whoa," Duke squawked. "I'm not wearing anything that's purple."
    "Don't worry," the doctor told Aunt Phyllis, "they all talk tough at first."
    "Listen, you old wreck..." Duke started to say, but before he could finish his insult, he cried out and made a grab for his nose, which was having a growth spurt again.
    "Isn't there anything else we can do?" Aunt Phyllis pleaded.
    "Nothing that's been proven," the doctor stated, holding up his magnifying glass to Duke's nose.
    "What about a genuine act of kindness?" I asked, feeling silly but figuring I'd better mention it. Aunt Phyllis was looking as though the world might end any second.
    I expected to be shushed by Aunt Phyllis, or shoulder-punched by Duke, but before either could act, the doctor took an interest in my question, saying, "Have you had contact with an old lady in a rowboat?"
    "That old biddy," Duke muttered.
    "She was involved in my very first case of rhinohornitis," the doctor told him. "Fifty some years back she showed up in a rowboat—was an old woman back then too. She's figured in about half the cases I've seen."
    "Enough!" Duke wailed. "That old goat didn't have anything to do with my nose. Just give me a pill or something and let's get out of this dump."
    "Has he always carried on like this?" the doctor asked.
    "Pretty much," Aunt Phyllis admitted, embarrassed.
    "Well,
that
is something I can give you a pill for. We've found it to be quite effective in cases like this."
    About dusk, we left the hospital with some pretty pink pills. Duke's nose was bandaged up neat as a package, and there was a dog leash attached to his wrist.

Seven
The First Horn in Our Family

    Fast as news travels around Blue Wing, you'd think everyone ran a newspaper. By the time I got home, Mom and Dad and my three sisters were camped out on the front porch, waiting. Mom was still dressed for the department store, where she works, and hadn't started supper yet. Dad, who works the graveyard shift at the bakery, must have just woken up, 'cause he was still in his pajamas. My youngest sister, Tessa, clung to her Barbie doll. Lillie of a thousand