The Spoon in the Bathroom Wall Read Free Page A

the eggs!”
    So... She hadn’t imagined that scraping sound outside Ferlin’s classroom. It was Rufus the rat, spying for Dr. Klunk.
    â€œ
Which
eggs?” Marthur stalled like mad. “Ferlin’s got goose eggs and tortoise eggs and platypus eggs and hummingbird eggs and eel eggs and grouse eggs and louse eggs and snake eggs and steak eggs and—”
    â€œShut your stupid egg-a-thon up!” Rufus hollered. “Anyways, there’s no such thing as steak eggs.”
    â€œWhere do you think steaks come from?” Marthur blathered on.
    â€œDon’t mess with me, smarty-pants. I mean the eggs your precious Ferlin pulled from her purse. I’ve got a plan for those little hoofers!”
    â€œWhat gophers?” Marthur shrieked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
    â€œYeah, right!” Rufus roared back. “Get ’em or I’ll pulverize—” Rufus stopped. He had a better idea. “Get ’em or we’ll dump over every trash can in school!”
    Marthur groaned, imagining mounds of garbage everywhere.
    â€œYour daddy’ll look like a slacker and lose his job. Then you’ll be in the street—and you’ll stop buggin’ me!”
    â€œMe bug YOU? You’re
crazy!
”
    â€œShut your face and get the eggs from that science freak!”
    â€œNo!” Marthur yelled frantically. “They’re Ferlin’s!”
    â€œTough tarantulas! I want ’em! An’ I want ’em TOMORROW!”
    Marthur gasped. “But
how!
”
    â€œYou’re so
smart
, figure it out.”
    â€œI CANT!”
    â€œSwipe ’em, brain-o!”
    Then Marthur remembered the king. She was desperate, so she hollered out, “The king is coming—and he’s going to get you!”
    â€œA king! Man, you’ll try
anything!
” Rufus cackled like a lunatic hen. “Now get those eggs, or Daddy’s had it!”
    Marthur heard him scuttle away. Ferlin’s words rang in her ears: “But remember—don’t tell anybody.”
    Marthur was aghast.
She’ll think I told Rufus! Ferlin trusts me. How can I steal from her? But if I don’t
...
    Marthur’s world was falling to pieces. She’d lost her name. She was about to become a thief and lose her friend Ferlin. For some crazy reason, Rufus hated her. Even if she got the dancing eggs, he was rotten enough to dump the trash, anyway. Then her father would be bogged down with more work—or he’d lose his job and they’d be on the street. On top of everything else, from shouting she had a sore throat. It was too much. A king couldn’t help her. Nobody could. Marthur threw herself onto her cot and sobbed.
    Â 
    The next morning Marthur woke up wanting to urp. She’d hardly slept a smidgen. Dumped-over trash cans and stolen eggs got scrambled up in her nightmares. She was tom in two. What should she do about the little dancers? And what about her father?
    Luther Snapdragon had always told her, “Blood’s thicker than soup.” Now, crumpled on her rumpled cot, she knew what he meant: Family comes first. She had to stick by her father—and steal from her teacher.
    Maybe a king really
was
coming. But she just couldn’t wait for such a far-fetched thing. She’d steal Ferlin’s key from Luther’s master set and snatch the eggs when Ferlin wasn’t there. Just one teensy problem: The watchful griffin would probably eat her. Yikes! She’d have to heist them from under Ferlin’s nose!
    Little by little, Marthur hatched a plan. She’d snitch the dancing eggs during science class.

VI
    It took Marthur a while to work out her plan, so class had already begun when she slouched into the room, hunched under her father’s heavy dark coat. Her own was too raggedy and small to cover up stolen eggs. She looked like somebody wearing her own shadow.
    Ferlin had just launched a small