Carl Hiaasen Collection: Hoot, Flush, Scat by Hiaasen Carl

Author:Hiaasen, Carl [Hiaasen, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Childrens, Juvenile Fiction, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Nonfiction, Environment
ISBN: 9780307978585
Goodreads: 13536431
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Growing up near the ocean, you learn about some strange superstitions. For instance, lots of fishing captains won’t let you bring a ripe banana on board because they believe it’s bad luck. Nobody knows how that one got started, but Dad told me it’s been around the docks since before Grandpa Bobby’s time.

Another superstition is that dolphins bring good luck, so I was glad to spot a school of them herding baitfish as Abbey and I motored up the shoreline. By counting the dorsal fins, we figured out there were six grown-up dolphins and one baby—and they were having a blast, zipping in frothy circles, tossing mullets high in the air. I don’t know if they’re really a good omen, but seeing wild dolphins always makes me feel better. Any other time I would have stopped the boat to watch them play, but Abbey and I were in a hurry.

It stays light pretty late during the summer, so it was a clear ride to Dusty Muleman’s marina. By the time we reached the channel markers, the waves had gotten choppy. I nosed the dinghy into some mangroves, cut the engine, and hopped out, balancing in my skateboard shoes on the slick rubbery roots. My sister dug through her backpack and took out a bottle of Gatorade, some bug spray, a Lemony Snicket book, and a flashlight. Then she handed the backpack to me.

“Sure you’re okay with this?” I asked. “I’ll be gone awhile.”

“Oh, gimme a break,” Abbey said. “’Course I’m okay.”

“Stay right here until you hear me yell ‘Geronimo!’ Then you know what to do.”

“Why ‘Geronimo’?” she asked.

“Because I saw somebody do that in a movie once.”

“What the heck does it mean?”

“It means ‘Hurry up and rescue me before I get my butt kicked by Dusty’s big ugly goon,’” I said. “No more questions, okay? Keep out of sight and I’ll see you later.”

As I began working my way toward the docks, I heard Abbey call out, “Be careful, Noah!”

I waved over my shoulder, but I didn’t look back.

By the time I broke free of the mangroves, my shoes were soaking wet and my shins were scraped from the barnacle covered roots. Crouching low, I dashed across a clearing and ducked behind Dusty Muleman’s ticket shed. There on the ground, side by side, were the two large crates that Shelly had told me to look for.

Peeking around a corner of the shack, I saw that the parking area was filling up with cars. Customers were already lined up to board the Coral Queen. There weren’t any kids in the crowd because kids weren’t allowed on the casino boat; that’s why I had to be so careful.

Using the sharp edge of a rock, I pried the lid off the first wooden crate. It was full of liquor bottles—rum from Haiti, according to the labels. Silently I replaced the cover and moved to the other crate.

As Shelly had promised, it was empty. I squeezed inside and dragged the heavy lid back into place.

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