Numbers Don't Lie Read Free Page B

winced.
    â€œI’ll have to ask Unc,” Frankie said.
    â€œWu,” I said, as soon as Frankie had left to find his uncle, “there’s something you need to know about junkyard men. If something is hard to find, you don’t have to tell them. And what’s this dune buggy business, anyway? I thought you wanted interior trim for your P1800.”
    â€œForget the P1800, Irv,” Wu said. “It’s yours. I’m giving it to you.”
    â€œYou’re what?”
    Wu slapped the wire mesh wheel again and sniffed the cloud of dust. “Do you realize what this is, Irv?”
    â€œSome sort of wire wheel. So what?”
    â€œI worked at Boeing in 1970,” Wu said. “I helped build this baby, Irv. It’s off the LRV.”
    â€œThe LR what?”
    Before Wu could answer, Frankie was back. “Well, you can look at it,” Frankie said. “But you got to hold your breath. It’s in the cave and there’s no air in there.”
    â€œThe cave?” I said. They both ignored me.
    â€œYou can see it from the door, but I’m not going back in there,” said Frankie. “Unc won’t let me. Have you got a jacket? It’s cold.”
    â€œI’ll be okay,” Wu said.
    â€œSuit yourself.” Frankie tossed Wu a pair of plastic welding goggles. “Wear these. And remember, hold your breath.”
    It was clear at this point where the cave was. Frankie was pointing toward the low door into the shed, where he rolled the tires. Wu put on the goggles and ducked his head; as he went through the doorway he made that same weird pop the tires made.
    I stood there with Frankie in the sunlight, holding the two wire mesh wheels, feeling like a fool.
    There was another pop and Wu backed out through the shower curtain. When he turned around, he looked like he had seen a ghost. I don’t know how else to describe it. Plus, he was shivering like crazy.
    â€œTold you it was cold!” said Frankie. “And it’s weird. There’s no air in there, for one thing. If you want the dune buggy, you’ll have to get it out of there yourself.”
    Wu gradually stopped shivering. As he did, a huge grin spread across his face. “It’s weird, all right,” he said. “Let me show my partner. Loan me some extra goggles.”
    â€œI’ll take your word for it,” I said.
    â€œIrv, come on! Put these goggles on.”
    â€œNo way!” I said. But I put them on. You always did what Wu said, sooner or later; he was that kind of guy.
    â€œDon’t hold your breath in. Let it all out, and then hold it. Come on. Follow me.”
    I breathed out and ducked down just in time; Wu grabbed my hand and pulled me through the shed door behind him. If I made a pop I didn’t hear it. We were standing in the door of a cave—but looking out, not in. The inside was another outside!
    It was like the beach, all gray sand (or dust) but with no water. I could see stars but it wasn’t dark. The dust was greenish gray, like a courthouse hallway (a color familiar to lawyers).
    My ears were killing me. And it was cold!
    We were at the top of a long, smooth slope, like a dune, which was littered with tires. At the bottom was a silver dune buggy with no front wheels, sitting nose down in the gray dust.
    Wu pointed at it. He was grinning like a maniac. I had seen enough. Pulling my hand free, I stepped back through the shower curtain and gasped for air. This time I heard a pop as I went through.
    The warm air felt great. My ears gradually quit ringing. Frankie was sitting on his tire pile, smoking a cigarette. “Where’s your buddy? He can’t stay in there.”
    Just then, Wu backed out through the curtain with a loud pop . “I’ll take it,” he said, as soon as he had filled his lungs with air. “I’ll take it!”
    I winced. Twice.
    â€œI’ll have to ask Unc,” said