No More Pranks by Monique Polak

Author:Monique Polak
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2004-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Mike,” said a tall red-headed guy standing in the doorway at the B&B. He took my hand and pumped it hard. “This here’s my buddy, Mike,” he said, gesturing to another guy, who was crouched on the floor, surrounded by a mound of clothing. He seemed to be looking for something inside his suitcase.

“Found it,” the second Mike said as he turned to greet us, the thing he’d been looking for—a huge bottle of insect repel-lant—in one hand. As he stood up, he swatted his own arm. “Gotcha,” he said, examining the bloody remains of a mosquito on his fingertips. From the look on his face, you’d think he’d defeated some mortal enemy.

“I’m Mike,” announced a third man as he walked out of the bathroom and adjusted his glasses. “I’m his brother-in-law,” he said, lifting his chin in the direction of the first Mike, the one with the red hair.

Just as I was thinking I’d never seen so many Mikes in one place, another one came down the stairs. I figured he was a year or two older than me. And because he was tall, with red hair and wide shoulders, I had a feeling he was the first Mike’s son.

“That there’s my boy, Mike—”

“Junior,” I said, finishing the first Mike’s sentence.

“It’s one of the most common names in the world,” the Mike with the glasses explained. “Of course, there are variations—Mike, Michael, Miguel…”

“Michel,” added Rosalie, who was standing in the hallway.

I couldn’t help thinking that the possibilities for pranks here were endless. I could get up in the middle of the night and yell “Mike!” to see how many of them answered. Or I could make each of them a nametag with the name Mike on it. “Just so I can tell you guys apart,” I’d say. That’d definitely be fun.

Then I remembered my promise to Rosalie. She’d kept her end of the deal by not telling Uncle Jean and Aunt Daisy about what had happened at the interpretive center. But maybe, I thought, pulling pranks was just part of who I was. Maybe I couldn’t help pulling pranks any more than Mike Junior could help having red hair, no matter what Rosalie and her mom had to say about it.

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