The Man with the Red Bag Read Online Free

and saw Buffo and Blessing smiling happily at each other.
    Grandma shuddered. “As I recall, that lake may be one of the natural wonders of the world but it’s not very attractive for bathing. Unless it has changed.”
    I had no hope that Charles Stavros would go for a swim and leave his bag behind. If he did swim, it would be pretty hard for him to hold the bag over his head. And what about his bandage?
    Scotty pulled the coach into the parking area and we began to file out.
    Buffo and Blessing jogged ahead of the rest of us, heading for the lake. They had white towels around their necks and carried black swimsuits. In their shorts their behinds were very big but I noticed they didn’t jiggle. All muscle, I thought.
    Grandma and I walked behind Stavros.
    Geneva and her dad were ahead of him. I couldn’t help observing again the space between them and theway she kept her face turned away from him as if there was something really interesting on the other side of the lake.
    Still, it surprised me when Grandma said, “That little girl is very troubled. I talked with her father at breakfast. He’s an engineer and he’s just back from Africa. It seems he spends a lot of time there.”
    I don’t know why I was surprised that Grandma knew so much. People tell her things. I think it’s because she’s such a good listener.
    â€œWas Geneva in Africa, too?” I asked.
    â€œNo. I don’t think his wife was, either. There’s a sadness about him. Have you noticed?”
    I shook my head.
    Charles Stavros was hugging the red bag against his chest. I noticed everything about him . Wouldn’t a regular person carrying a regular bag sling it over his shoulder? Was there something in there he didn’t want to get bumped? In case it would get broken? Or hurt? Could it possibly be his puppy—that he hadn’t been able to leave it after all? But a puppy would whine or bark. And it would have to be fed. And it would need to go to the bathroom. But if he had abomb…It wouldn’t be good for a bomb to get bumped. I froze at the thought.
    Grandma was looking at me strangely. “Are you all right, Kevin?”
    I realized that I had stopped walking.
    I bent over. “Something in my shoe.” I untied my shoelace and shook my sneaker vigorously. “Got it,” I said.
    Buffo and Blessing disappeared into the dressing rooms while the rest of us gazed at the lake. We actually stood well back because the shores were thick with kelp or some sort of weed. Tiny black flies hopped and swarmed silently around it.
    Millie took out a tissue and held it to her mouth as if she was afraid one of them was going to jump in.
    â€œNasty.” Mrs. Dove gave a small ladylike shudder. “I suppose the…the swimmers…will have to go through that to get in the water?”
    â€œNo other way, my dear,” Mr. Dove said.
    â€œThey must be crazy,” Millie muttered. “I hope they don’t bring any of those flies back in the bus with us. You know, in their hair or crawling around.”
    â€œMillie!” Beth said sharply.
    Millie took a deep breath. “Only kidding.”
    We waited as Buffo and Blessing emerged from the dressing rooms in black swimsuits that were identical, except that Blessing’s had a top. They each had a red tattoo on the right shoulder, but from where I stood I couldn’t see what it was. Hand in hand they plunged in, making whooping noises, the flies rising around them like shifting black clouds, kelp clinging to their legs.
    â€œGross!” Geneva started to scratch herself all over even though the flies were nowhere near us.
    We watched Buffo and Blessing lying on top of the water, their heads and toes and bellies poking up.
    â€œIt’s great,” they shouted. “You could sleep in here. It’s a humongous water bed.”
    The Texans began a chorus of “Shoo, Fly, Don’t Bother Me,” and