Philip and Emery nestled beneath Mrs. Logan’s bushes next morning.
“Could you sleep good last night?” asked Emery.
“No, and I’ll sleep even worse tonight.”
“I wish we could sneak out of the house and watch.”
“Yeah, me, too. Imagine one of our mothers finding out we were missing in the middle of the night, though. She’d call the police. Sirens would be clanging. It would be a mess. No way anything happens if that happens.”
“I guess. You think the police lady believed us?”
“Us? I did all the talking.”
“So. I went with you, didn’t I?”
Philip showed what he thought of Emery’s help with a loud, “Pffft.”
“What if Leon’s family doesn’t go away?” asked Emery.
“Doesn’t go! They better go. He said they’d go.”
The boys looked at one another.
“Let’s check,” said Philip.
They scrambled out from under the bushes and rushed the three blocks to Leon’s house. When they reached the house, they stood down the block on the other side of the street behind a tree.
“Uh oh,” said Emery. “The car’s still there.”
“It’s early. Maybe they didn’t leave yet.”
“Maybe.” They stood quietly a moment before Emery had a thought. “Maybe Leon got sick. Maybe he jumped off his bed again and broke his head open.”
“He’s not that dumb.”
Emery gave him a doubting look.
“At least I don’t think he’s that dumb.”
“Why don’t we go ask him if he’s still going? We can tell him we came to say good-bye. Ohh! Look!”
Leon’s family—Leon, his father, and his mother—filed out of the house. Leon did some strange kind of dance, but stopped when his father shouted at him—a shout so loud the two boys could hear it.
“He’s goofy all the time,” mumbled Philip.
The two boys watched them get into the car. They heard another roaring shout from inside the car, but couldn’t figure out who did it or why.
“Leon drives everybody nuts,” said Emery.
The car drove away from them and turned the corner. The boys stepped out from behind the tree.
“Well,” said Philip. “They’re gone. Now, we just have to wait.”
~ * ~
“What are you doing up so early, Philip?” his mother asked next morning. “Put that phone down. It’s only eight o’clock, too early to bother Emery. His mother may still be sleeping.”
“He’s got two little sisters, Mom. He says his mother never sleeps.”
“Well, maybe.”
“He’s awake. I know he is.”
Just then Philip’s baby sister Becky gave a hungry screech from the living room.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” Mrs. Felton called and walked quickly away, a bottle of warm milk in her hand.
Philip punched in Emery’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“Emery, you awake?”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
“You hear anything yet?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.”
“Well, if you do, call me again. I want to know.”
“Okay.”
The morning crept along oh so slowly. Philip tried to watch TV, but his mind wandered to Leon’s house. He thought about playing with Becky, but she dropped off to sleep as soon as she’d been fed. He went up to play Candy Crush on his computer, but couldn’t stay interested. Then the front doorbell rang.
Philip got on his hands and knees at the top of the steps so he could peek downstairs. His mother answered the door and stepped back in surprise. Officer Sandy entered.
~ * ~
Officer Sandy allowed Philip to call Emery, who showed up, out of breath, two minutes later. Philip could see his mother didn’t know what to make of a visit from the police, but he felt better when Officer Sandy assured her he wasn’t in any trouble.
“Can I please know what this is all about now?” Mrs. Felton asked when Emery arrived.
Officer Sandy briefly described Philip’s trip to headquarters two days before.
Philip kept his eye on his mother’s face until she turned his way. Then he spun his head in the other direction.
Officer Sandy continued. “The boys gave us the license number of the truck. Philip memorized three numbers, and Emery memorized three numbers.”
“Seven-four-two,” Emery cried proudly.
“We followed up and found out that a very suspicious character owned the truck, which made us believe a bit more what the boys had told us.”
“You didn’t believe us?” cried Philip.
“We always have to check our information,” explained Officer Sandy. “We would never think you’d lie to us, but anybody can be mistaken.”
Philip’s astonishment subsided, and Officer Sandy went on.
“So we did what Philip suggested. And sure enough, around two in the morning, the truck pulled into your friend Leon’s driveway. Two men, the truck driver and your Mr. Sorino, broke into the house through the back door and a few moments later carried out the new TV the family bought. We caught everything they did on tape.”
“They’re cooked,” Emery shouted.
Philip happily turned to his mother. “Mom, Mr. Sorino didn’t really want old TVs to fix. He didn’t really want broken stuff. He really wanted us to tell him who threw stuff away. He knew if somebody threw away like an old TV, it was because they just got a new TV. One he could steal. That’s what happened to that house a couple blocks over. Remember?”
“I remember. I remember,” Philip’s mother said, looking at her son in astonishment.
“We told Mr. Sorino about that house throwing away their old TV,” said Philip, his voice rising. “We even gave him the house’s address!”
“Tell them about your aunt’s pants,” said Emery.
“I knew they stole stuff because they stole Aunt Louise’s pants—the black satin pants.” He glared at Emery.
Emery sniffed dismissively. “You knew? I knew. I told you. You didn’t know anything. You kept telling me she sat in her pants.”
“If you didn’t explain it so stupid . . .”
“If you didn’t understand it so stupid . . .”
“Boys, boys,” interrupted Officer Sandy. “Philip, tell your mother about the stolen pants.”
Philip complied.
Emery jumped in the moment Philip stopped. “Then, when Leon told us about the new art set his mother bought for him, we figured out why Mr. Sorino wanted us to tell him about stuff we saw in the trash.”
“We figured out? I figured out,” Philip said hotly. “You didn’t know anything.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Officer Sandy cautioned the boys again. “Philip, tell your mother about the art kit.”
“Leon said he knew his mother got him a new art kit because he saw his old, used-up art kit in the trash. When he said that, I figured it out.” He tossed Emery a look. “Mr. Sorino wanted to know what people threw away, so he could figure out what they just bought. If they threw out the old TV, it meant they bought a new TV, and he went to steal it.”
Officer Sandy finished the story. “They would wait for the family to go out for the evening, and then they would strike. This Mr. Sorino would occasionally sell used goods to Pete’s Repeat Shop in the mall, so people wouldn’t get suspicious about why he was interested in everybody’s trash.” She rose. “I thought you might want to know how things turned out, Philip, Emery. Quite a boy you have there, Mrs. Felton. You too, Emery.”
Philip’s mother looked like she didn’t know where she was or what had happened. “Oh, yes, he is. For sure,” she managed.
“Oh, and rest assured,” Officer Sandy went on, “we’ll keep your names out of this, as I explained to the boys the other day.” She looked at Mrs. Felton. “For safety reasons.” Officer Sandy thanked the boys again and said good-bye.
Philip and Emery turned toward Mrs. Felton, who stared at them as if she didn’t recognize them.
“Safety reasons?” she repeated. “I have to call your father.” She went to the phone in the kitchen.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Philip.
They headed for Mrs. Logan’s bushes, where they spent the morning having a long and happy discussion.