Mask on the Cruise Ship Read Online Free

under my arm and mumbled an excuse about needing to go to the washroom. No one batted an eye. Smooth, or what?
    I was being honest. I did need a washroom — so I could flush the sprouts down the toilet. If the yechy green things were so nutritious, let the city sewers be healthy.
    By the upstairs bathroom, I paused to unroll the napkin. Beside me was Madge’s room; the door to her balcony, which faced on to the street, was open. Madge had been leaving it open, even in the chilliest weather, since reading in one of her fashion magazines that too much indoor air stifled the complexion.
    Right.
    Now, through the balcony door, I heard a boy’s voice say: “Yup, LOUD is the word for Dinah Galloway.”
    Huh? Still clutching the brussels sprouts-filled napkin, I went through Madge’s room to the balcony and stepped out. The balcony railing was covered with wisteria that we let grow wild, much to our neighbors’ disapproval. The advantage to us was that all those rampant leaves acted as a privacy screen.
    Crouching below the railing, I peered through the leaves at the boy who’d just dissed me.
    It was the new boy in my grade seven class. Talbot St. John.
    There’s a twerpy name for you. Imagine naming a kid “Talbot” if he was already stuck with “St. John.”
    The twerpish sound of it had not, however, prevented several girls in my class from going gaga over him. I suppose because he was tall — well, tall for a grade seven — with dark hair that drooped in a soulful lock over deep blue eyes.
    Maybe it was the late-birthday thing again, but, soulful lock or not, I failed to understand why the girls stood around at recess in limp clumps, drained of any energy, and certainly of any personality, gazing with hopeless adoration at him.
    It was one of the gaga girls he was talking to on the sidewalk: Liesl Dubuque, our neighbors’ niece. Liesl was staying with them for a year while her parents traveled.
    Liesl had a white, sharp face framed by wedge-cut black hair. She was always tugging on the back of her hair, the wedge part. I’d overheard her say she wanted to grow her hair out to — get this — impress Talbot.
    As well as sharp features, Liesl had a sharp, scornful laugh, which she erupted into now.
    â€œ ‘LOUD’ doesn’t express it, Talbot. When Dinah opens her mouth, there’s no point in anyone else trying to speak. Ms. Boom-Boom deafens us all.”
    â€œTalk about breaking the sound barrier,” Talbot began — and Liesl’s laugh sliced through the air again.
    I’d had enough. Grabbing brussels sprouts, I started hurling them at the sidewalk duo. I had good aim, too, so — splat! splat! — the round green blobs smashed against their heads.
    â€œAT LEAST I HAVE A PERSONALITY, YOU TWO TWERPS,” I bellowed. “THEY’D HAVE TO SEND OUT A SEARCH PARTY TO FIND YOURS !”
    Down to one brussels sprout, I crouched behind the wisteria-thick railing again. After all, you never knew. Talbot and Liesl might be packing eggs or tomatoes.
    It was then that I noticed something.
    Wisteria wasn’t all that was gripping the balcony rails. At the side, two black-gloved hands were as well.
    My mouth dropped into an elongated O. Amid the wisteria leaves, a black-balaclava-covered face stared back at me. I was able, at least, to see the eyes. They were a pale, and at this moment rather shocked, gooseberry color.
    A burglar! He’d climbed the wisteria-laden trellis. He’d intended to break in by way of the balcony.
    If I thought my jaw had plummeted, his had practically hit Australia. Frantic ideas about screaming or running for help fled my mind. I knew exactly what to do.
    I took the last brussels sprout and shoved it through the railing into his wide-open mouth.
    Wrenching away in reaction to the brussels sprout, the masked man yanked too hard on the trellis. Along with the sound of splitting wood, there