The Sound of Thunder

I stared at him. “But you’re … you’re …”

“A kid?” Randall Crandall said. “You are a good detective!”

He was a kid. He even looked as if he was in the same grade as us. Except that he was dressed like a principal. A principal who wears short pants!

“Is that a bow tie?” Brian asked.

“Are those diamonds on your socks?” asked Mara.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “The phone call. Your voice just now.”

The boy stood and showed us a plastic cup with rubber bands stretched across the opening. He put it near his mouth.

“A simple trick,” he said. “You press your lips on the rubber bands, lower your voice, and talk into the plastic cup like this…. ”

The voice that came out next was raspy like an old man’s. “I have heard you are the best.”

“Except that you fooled me with a plastic cup!” I said.

“And it’s super hard to fool a Goofball,” Brian said, examining the cup closely.

Randall smiled. “That’s exactly why I asked you to come. Please sit.” He motioned to the big, soft chairs near the garage-size fireplace.

Before Randall could sit down, his butler rushed into the room and slid a chair under him.

Randall Crandall frowned. “Picksniff is always around. He’s been with me for—”

“—ages and ages,” said Picksniff.

“It’s Pick’s job to—”

“—help Master Randall with things,” the butler added.

Randall leaned closer to us. “Including helping me finish my—”

“—sentences,” said Picksniff.

“Watch this,” Randall whispered to us, a twinkle in his eye. He stuck his nose into a vase of daffodils on a nearby table.

Then he squinched up his face as if he were going to sneeze.

“Ah-Ah-Ah—”

“—CHOO!” said Picksniff.

Randall’s butler even sneezed for him!

“Please remove the flowers, Pick,” Randall said, wiping his nose.

The butler frowned. “But they were delivered fresh this morning, sir.”

Randall nodded at Picksniff. “I know, but unless you want to be sneezing for me all day, you’d better take them. Suddenly, I seem to be allergic to daffodils.”

“Yes, sir.” Picksniff took the flowers away.

“So, what’s this case all about?” I asked.

Randall’s smile faded, and he looked out the window as if at something far away.

“Thunder,” he said quietly.

I looked out the window, too. The sky was blue and clear. “I don’t hear thunder outside.”

“No, I mean my pony,” Randall said.

“Your pony is outside?” Brian asked.

“No, I mean my pony’s name is Thunder,” Randall said. “And he’s … missing.”

“That’s terrible,” Mara said. “Jeff, your cluebook.”

“Got it,” I said.

Randall continued. “I always hear Thunder neighing this time of day. We would go riding, then we’d have lunch together. But now he’s gone.”

Thunder

Randall’s pet pony

Gone

When I wrote those words, I understood what Randall had meant on the phone. He had said that something or someone had disappeared.

You could say that a pony was a thing, but to Randall his pony was someone he cared about. I added another clue.

Thunder friend

Kelly twirled her curls slowly. “Can you describe Thunder to us?”

“I can do better than that,” Randall said, reaching for a picture of a short brown pony with furry ears and a long, wavy mane. “This is Thunder. He’s ten hands high. That’s forty inches.”

“He’s pretty small,” said Brian. “With a name like Thunder, I expected a huge, monster-size horse.”

Randall sighed. “That’s our little joke. Thunder’s shy and not like his name at all. He’s terrified of storms, and he doesn’t like to travel. In fact, I have to trick him to get him into his trailer. He’s rather a scaredy-cat.”

Which is what I wrote.

Thunder afraid of thunder

Tricked into his trailer

Scaredy-cat

“I think we’ll need some books about ponies,” said Mara.

Suddenly, I remembered the book that Joey Myers had dropped that morning at the library: All About Horses.

Could Joey possibly be a suspect?

Kelly jumped from her chair and stood up in the gigantic fireplace. She looked like an actress standing on a stage.

“One more question,” she said. “When exactly did you first notice Thunder was missing?”

“This morning,” said Randall softly. “His hoof prints just vanished behind the stable. How can we find him?”

I looked at my notes. “First, we take a look at the last place Thunder was. The stable.”

But when I tried to get up from the chair, I couldn’t. It was too squishy. Brian tried to get out and pull me up, but he was stuck, too.

“Kelly, help!” shouted Mara, reaching out for her but only managing to pull Kelly into her lap.

“Picksniff!” yelled Randall Crandall.

In two seconds, Picksniff was there, pulling us all safely to our feet.

“The butler did it!” Brian said.

“Butlers usually do,” said Picksniff. “But not this time. I do hope you find Randall’s pony.”

Twenty seconds later, we were in Randall Crandall’s personal elevator, heading down to Thunder’s personal stable.