The Absolute Value of Mike Read Free Page A

dull boy.”
    â€œI think it’s ‘makes Jack a very dull boy.’ James is my dad.”
    She smiled broadly and touched her forefinger to her chin. “I know, dear.”
    Wait—was she calling Dad dull? But I couldn’t stop to think. I practically had to jog to keep up with her. Tiny as she was, that lady could move.
    â€œYour dad sent some scrap paper for you. I’m glad to see he recycles old school papers. It has all kinds of numbers and symbols and nonsense on the back, but he said you could use it.”
    As forgetful as Dad was, he hadn’t forgotten summer math worksheets. The numbers and symbols made about as much sense to me as they did to Moo. I definitely needed to concentrate on the artesian screw. It’d be the perfect excuse for why I didn’t get to the stack of worksheets.
    â€œIs it for ara—, agar—, goomee . . . what’s that folding paper thing?”
    â€œOrigami?”
    â€œThat’s it! Is that what you do with all that paper?”
    â€œPretty much.” If that’s what you called crumpling it into balls, throwing it at the wall, and jumping up and down on it while cursing.
    â€œWell, I’m sure you’ll do something very special with it. Come along, now!” She readjusted her red purse that was so large it would have to be considered checked luggage, and I watched it bang against the back of her white hoodie as she walked down the concourse. The picture of the white-haired woman on the cover of my old Mother Goose book flashed across my mind.
    I caught up with her and she grabbed my arm, maybe worried that I’d fall behind again. “Tell me, what do you like to do for fun?”
    Fun? I hadn’t thought of that possibility. “Do you guys have a PlayStation or Xbox or anything like that?”
    â€œOh, play station! Yes, it’s in the attic because we haven’t used it since Doug—” She let go of me and stopped, grabbing the strings of her hoodie and yanking so hard, I thought she might strangle herself. She sucked her lips and I didn’t see any evidence of breathing. I was about to slap her on the back to make her snap out of it when she suddenly opened her mouth and gasped.
    â€œPlay station,” she repeated, with a definitive nod but watery eyes, like she’d just recovered from a painful blow but was standing back up in the ring again. “Yes. Most of the little people are gone, but the cars are still there, along with the gas pump. The plastic hose from the gas pump is a little chewed up, but it still fits into the cars.”
    She smiled up at me and I read the big red letters on the front of her hoodie that shouted HOLY COMFORTER, even though the voice inside my head was shouting, Holy crap!
    â€œPlease tell me you have a computer.” Dad made me leave my cell phone at home so I wouldn’t be “distracted from the mission.” I had a cheap MP3 player but absolutely no link to the outside world.
    â€œNo computer, but they have some nice new ones at the bank. In color! Gladys loves to show off her new computer. She even gave it a name. She calls it ‘Mac.’ Isn’t that cute?”
    I looked away so she wouldn’t see my face and stared into Bound for Adventure Books and Videos as we walked past. Of course. Movies. “Do you have any DVDs?”
    She stopped and clutched my arm again, blinking up at me. “Oh, dear. You didn’t bring any of yours?”
    â€œNo. Don’t you guys have any?”
    â€œWell, Poppy has some, of course. But they wouldn’t do for you. Not at all. We’ll buy you some, though. What size BVDs do you need?”
    â€œSize? What do you mean?”
    She took a deep, raspy breath. “UNDERPANTS, dear. What SIZE BEE-VEE-DEES do you wear?”
    The wave of travelers seemed to settle around Moo’s duck feet, gaping at me.
    â€œI—I said DEE-VEE-DEE! You know, like a video? A