69

“You could hide a book in these potatoes,” Agatha says a few nights later, walking up from the cellar.

“How are we g-g-g-going to do that?” I use a towel to wipe whole wheat dough from my hands and walk over to the table.

“Like this.” Agatha pulls a dozen potatoes off the top of a bushel basket and lays them on the table. “Put a couple of books in here like this and we’ll pile these potatoes back on top.” She looks up at me.

“Do you think it could work?”

“Best I can think, it will. Now go get some books.”

I pull two books off the counter and hand them to Agatha. “He’ll shoot us if he finds out.”

“He won’t find out. We’ll go when he’s at work.”

When the basket is filled, I carry it out to the back of the truck. “I forgot Leo the Late Bloomer,” I yell to Agatha over my shoulder. “It’s her f-f-f-favorite. Can you get it?”

“You get it.”

I heave the basket on the truck. “It’s on the shelf in my r-r-room.”

She opens the door to the truck and climbs in. “Damn, I forgot the keys.”

“Get the book while you’re in there,” I say, taking the top layer of potatoes off the basket so I can add another book.

When Agatha gets back, she carries The Cat in the Hat.

I look at it, confused. “She’s already read this one. I said Leo the Late Bloomer.”

“I don’t have time to fiddle around, Cornelia. I’ve got to get back before it gets too dark so I can get the rest of the cucumbers in from the garden. We’ve got to hurry.”

I put The Cat in the Hat in the basket and cover it with potatoes.