Mr. Gedrick and Me by Patrick Carman

Author:Patrick Carman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-08-26T04:00:00+00:00

HUXLEY HARVOLD

On my way to the front of the house I peeked into the kitchen window and saw Mom pacing back and forth. She was stress-eating from a bag of M&M’s.

I heard a car door shut in the driveway, and continued on to the edge of the house. When I looked around the corner, Huxley Harvold was walking up to the front door.

I’d met Huxley before at Mom’s old office. He’s shaped like a pear, with a big gut and stumpy legs like an old football player. He’s about halfway to bald, so he’s got this long forehead that shines like a golf ball.

Huxley stood on the front porch and looked at our lawn. There were weeds everywhere and it hadn’t been mowed for weeks. It was so bad I almost felt embarrassed. Huxley shook his head and looked concerned.

“What a dope,” I said, moving a little closer and hiding behind a big bush.

Mom had told me all about the Chicago Community Arts Center and how important it was. It was a showpiece, and the whole city was watching. If she couldn’t deliver a bang-up plan on time, it would mean more than just serious egg on her face. Mom kept talking about the guy who ran the firm now, Mr. Jivins, and how she thought Huxley wants to push him out. I think Mom felt like she was being used in all this, and the project she was working on was some sort of chess piece.

Huxley ran his hands along the sleeves of his expensive suit jacket and adjusted his designer glasses. He rang the doorbell and seemed to brace himself for a difficult encounter.

And waited.

And waited.

I could hear the sound of power tools from the garage, so Huxley could hear it, too.

“Dang it, Mr. G., you were supposed to wait for me!” I whispered, almost too loudly. I wanted to run back to the garage and see what was going on, but I’d been given a mission. And a spy never leaves a mission half done.

Just then, Mom opened the front door.

“Mr. Harvold,” Mom said as she waved him into the house. “I’m sorry to keep you standing there. Won’t you please come in?”

“I’d be delighted,” Huxley said with a fake smile pasted on his face.

I skedaddled up the walkway and onto the front porch, then I turned the knob on the door super slowly. I opened the door just a pinch. They were still standing in the living room so I couldn’t go in yet.

“The inside of your house is much nicer than I expected,” Huxley said. “The outside threw me off. You really need a gardener, don’t you think?”

Mom tried to ignore the comment while she ushered Huxley into the kitchen. I slipped through the door with the skill of a superspy and crawled along the floor behind the couch. All the crawling around under the house had given me plenty of practice.

“I’ve just made some coffee,” Mom said a little too excitedly. “Would you like some?”

“I’m on a tight schedule and can’t stay long,” Huxley answered.

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