The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp by Kathi Appelt

Author:Kathi Appelt [Appelt, Kathi]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
ISBN: 9781442481213
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2013-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

49

AFTER HEARING THE ADVERTISEMENT THAT Coyoteman Jim had made for them, Chap and his mom were certain that tomorrow would bring a whole bevy of new customers. They just knew it would.

To cap it off, Jim had stayed all morning and helped Chap turn some old boards that Chap had found in the boat shed into signs. There were three of them, and Coyoteman Jim promised to place them along the road:

Sign one: “Turn here for the best fried pies in the world.”

Sign two: “Only two miles to fried sugar pies!”

Sign three: “You’re almost there!”

They had used a spray can of Day-Glo orange paint that Grandpa Audie had bought years ago, the purpose of which nobody could remember. None of the signs were exactly artistic, and the paint ran down from the letters.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Coyoteman Jim. “They only need to catch the eye.” They were definitely eye-catching. Chap knew that for sure.

After the café closed that afternoon, and Coyoteman Jim went on his way, Chap and his mom set to work. They pre-fried at least ten dozen sugar pies in anticipation. All they had to do in the morning was quick-fry them again, and they’d be delicious. If it didn’t work, they’d have a lot of leftover pies. And fried pies weren’t all that great when they were more than a day old. After that they’d have to be tossed into the bayou for the catfish.

There was so much riding on Coyoteman Jim’s commercial.

As soon as they were finished in the kitchen, Chap took it upon himself to get the boat ready to fill with cash. The boat was a two-man pirogue, a sturdy, flat-bottomed affair with a pointed bow that raised up a few inches out of the water, and a square stern that helped keep it stable.

Chap pulled the old pirogue out of the boat shed, where it was stored. He tugged and pulled and tugged and pulled, up the steps and then set it smack in the middle of the screened-in back porch. The boat had always seemed rather small before, but parked in the middle of the porch, it looked huge. When he imagined having to fill it with cash, it looked enormous.

For comparison’s sake, he cut a dollar-size piece of paper from his school notebook and watched it float down down down into the boat’s bottom. The paper looked very small. It was going to take a lot of bills to load that boat.

He tried not to let himself think about Sonny Boy and his deal. After all, what chance was there of finding any proof of the Sugar Man? Nevertheless, a small bead of hope nested right underneath his chin. He scratched at it, just like he might scratch at a mosquito bite. The more he scratched it, the more it stung. He stuck his hand into his pocket so that he could leave it alone.

He climbed into the boat and sat on the bench. It felt funny, sitting in the boat on the back porch.

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