Dash & Lily's Book of Dares
Page 31
“Hey, guys,” I said after I opened the door. “Isn’t it a lit le early for you?”
“Haven’t gone to sleep yet!” Dov said. “We’re all Red Bull ish and Diet Coked–up, if you know what I mean.”
“Can we crash here?” Yohnny asked. “I mean, soon. Like, in two minutes.”
“How could I turn you away?” I asked. “How was the show?”
“You should’ve stayed,” Dov said. “Silly Rabbi was awesome. I mean, they’re no Fistful of Assholes, but they’re about eighteen times bet er than Ozrael. And let me tell you, your girl busted some moves, man.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“She put the ho in horah!” Dov exclaimed.
Yohnny shook his head. “It was more like the rah. I mean, she was more like the rah.” Dov hit Yohnny on the shoulder with what looked like a boot.
“Bitch, I’m talking here!” Dov cried.
“Someone’s not get ing to break the glass tonight,” Yohnny mut ered.
I stepped in. “Guys! Do you have something for me?”
“Yeah,” Dov said, holding out the boot. “This.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Dov looked at me flatly. “What is it? Well, let’s see …”
Yohnny said, “There wasn’t any notebook. I mean, she held it out to Dov, but then she ran away with it. Only, she lost her boot in the process. Don’t ask me how—it seems to defy the law of physics for a foot to fall out of a boot. So maybe she wanted to leave it behind for you.”
“Cinderel a!” Dov cried. “Let down your hair!”
“Yeah,” Yohnny went on, “I think it’s time for bed. Mind if we crawl into a cave?”
“You can use my mom’s room,” I said. Then I took the boot from Dov and looked inside.
“No notebook,” Yohnny said. “I thought that, too. I even checked the oor, which was not a pleasant experience. I can honestly say, if the notebook had fall en out, it wouldn’t have got en far—it would’ve stuck right where it landed.”
“Ew. Sorry. I mean, thanks.” I led them to my mom’s room. It felt a lit le wrong to loan out her bed, but it was also Giovanni’s bed, and I loved the idea of casually mentioning to him that two clubbed-out g*y unorthodox Jews had caved there together while he was gone. I removed the bedspread while Yohnny kept Dov propped up; just the sight of a sleeping place had drained all the Red Bull from his veins.
“What time do you want a wake-up call?” I asked.
“You going to Priya’s party tonight?” Yohnny said.
I nodded.
“Well, wake us up a lit le before that.”
Delicately, Yohnny removed his hat, then Dov’s. I bid them good night, even though the morning was just get ing started.
I examined the boot. I pondered it. I searched for secret messages etched into the leather. I removed the insole to see if there was a note underneath. I asked the boot questions. I played with its tassel. I felt that Lily had outriddled me.
If she hadn’t left anything, I would’ve thought, Wow. That’s it. It’s over. But the boot was a clue, and if there was a clue, that meant the mystery was still intact.
I decided to retrace my steps. I knew Macy’s had probably opened early for the day after Christmas, so I called them right away … and was put on hold for fifteen minutes.
Finally, an exasperated voice answered, “Macy’s—how may I help you?”
“Hi,” I said. “I was wondering if Santa was still there.”
“Sir, it’s the day after Christmas.”
“I know—but is there any way to track down Santa?”
“Sir, I don’t have time for this.”
“No, you don’t understand—I really need to have a word with the man who was Santa four days ago.”
“Sir, I appreciate your desire to speak to Santa, but this is our busiest day of the year and I have other calls I must at end to. Maybe you should just write him a let er—do you need the address?”
“One North Pole?” I guessed.
“One North Pole?” I guessed.
“Precisely. Have a nice day, sir.”
And then she hung up.
The Strand, of course, didn’t open early for the day after Christmas. I had to wait until nine-thirty to get through to someone there.
“Hi,” I said, “I was wondering if Mark was around?”
“Mark?” a bored male voice asked.
“Yeah. Works at the information desk.”
“There are about twenty of us named Mark. Can you be more specific?”
“Dark hair. Glasses. Ironic detachment. Scruf .”
“That doesn’t narrow it down.”
“He’s a lit le heavier than the rest of you?”
“Oh, I think I know the Mark you mean. He’s not here today. Let me see—yeah, he’s on tomorrow.”
“Could you tell me his last name?”
“I’m sorry,” the guy said, pleasantly enough, “but we don’t disclose personal information to stalkers. If you want to leave a message, I can get it to him tomorrow.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“I thought so.”
So, not much progress there. But at least I knew he’d be around the next day.
As a last resort, I left Dov and Yohnny asleep in my mom’s bed and ponied up another twenty- ve bucks to hang with the waxed-out celebrities. But the woman guard was nowhere to be found, as if she’d been moved into the back room with the statues of the cast of Baywatch.
“Haven’t gone to sleep yet!” Dov said. “We’re all Red Bull ish and Diet Coked–up, if you know what I mean.”
“Can we crash here?” Yohnny asked. “I mean, soon. Like, in two minutes.”
“How could I turn you away?” I asked. “How was the show?”
“You should’ve stayed,” Dov said. “Silly Rabbi was awesome. I mean, they’re no Fistful of Assholes, but they’re about eighteen times bet er than Ozrael. And let me tell you, your girl busted some moves, man.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“She put the ho in horah!” Dov exclaimed.
Yohnny shook his head. “It was more like the rah. I mean, she was more like the rah.” Dov hit Yohnny on the shoulder with what looked like a boot.
“Bitch, I’m talking here!” Dov cried.
“Someone’s not get ing to break the glass tonight,” Yohnny mut ered.
I stepped in. “Guys! Do you have something for me?”
“Yeah,” Dov said, holding out the boot. “This.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Dov looked at me flatly. “What is it? Well, let’s see …”
Yohnny said, “There wasn’t any notebook. I mean, she held it out to Dov, but then she ran away with it. Only, she lost her boot in the process. Don’t ask me how—it seems to defy the law of physics for a foot to fall out of a boot. So maybe she wanted to leave it behind for you.”
“Cinderel a!” Dov cried. “Let down your hair!”
“Yeah,” Yohnny went on, “I think it’s time for bed. Mind if we crawl into a cave?”
“You can use my mom’s room,” I said. Then I took the boot from Dov and looked inside.
“No notebook,” Yohnny said. “I thought that, too. I even checked the oor, which was not a pleasant experience. I can honestly say, if the notebook had fall en out, it wouldn’t have got en far—it would’ve stuck right where it landed.”
“Ew. Sorry. I mean, thanks.” I led them to my mom’s room. It felt a lit le wrong to loan out her bed, but it was also Giovanni’s bed, and I loved the idea of casually mentioning to him that two clubbed-out g*y unorthodox Jews had caved there together while he was gone. I removed the bedspread while Yohnny kept Dov propped up; just the sight of a sleeping place had drained all the Red Bull from his veins.
“What time do you want a wake-up call?” I asked.
“You going to Priya’s party tonight?” Yohnny said.
I nodded.
“Well, wake us up a lit le before that.”
Delicately, Yohnny removed his hat, then Dov’s. I bid them good night, even though the morning was just get ing started.
I examined the boot. I pondered it. I searched for secret messages etched into the leather. I removed the insole to see if there was a note underneath. I asked the boot questions. I played with its tassel. I felt that Lily had outriddled me.
If she hadn’t left anything, I would’ve thought, Wow. That’s it. It’s over. But the boot was a clue, and if there was a clue, that meant the mystery was still intact.
I decided to retrace my steps. I knew Macy’s had probably opened early for the day after Christmas, so I called them right away … and was put on hold for fifteen minutes.
Finally, an exasperated voice answered, “Macy’s—how may I help you?”
“Hi,” I said. “I was wondering if Santa was still there.”
“Sir, it’s the day after Christmas.”
“I know—but is there any way to track down Santa?”
“Sir, I don’t have time for this.”
“No, you don’t understand—I really need to have a word with the man who was Santa four days ago.”
“Sir, I appreciate your desire to speak to Santa, but this is our busiest day of the year and I have other calls I must at end to. Maybe you should just write him a let er—do you need the address?”
“One North Pole?” I guessed.
“One North Pole?” I guessed.
“Precisely. Have a nice day, sir.”
And then she hung up.
The Strand, of course, didn’t open early for the day after Christmas. I had to wait until nine-thirty to get through to someone there.
“Hi,” I said, “I was wondering if Mark was around?”
“Mark?” a bored male voice asked.
“Yeah. Works at the information desk.”
“There are about twenty of us named Mark. Can you be more specific?”
“Dark hair. Glasses. Ironic detachment. Scruf .”
“That doesn’t narrow it down.”
“He’s a lit le heavier than the rest of you?”
“Oh, I think I know the Mark you mean. He’s not here today. Let me see—yeah, he’s on tomorrow.”
“Could you tell me his last name?”
“I’m sorry,” the guy said, pleasantly enough, “but we don’t disclose personal information to stalkers. If you want to leave a message, I can get it to him tomorrow.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“I thought so.”
So, not much progress there. But at least I knew he’d be around the next day.
As a last resort, I left Dov and Yohnny asleep in my mom’s bed and ponied up another twenty- ve bucks to hang with the waxed-out celebrities. But the woman guard was nowhere to be found, as if she’d been moved into the back room with the statues of the cast of Baywatch.
