Amos and the Chameleon Caper

  OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:

  HARRIS AND ME, Gary Paulsen

  MR. TUCKET, Gary Paulsen

  THE HAYMEADOW, Gary Paulsen

  THE MONUMENT, Gary Paulsen

  THE RIVER, Gary Paulsen

  THE COOKCAMP, Gary Paulsen

  THE VOYAGE OF THE FROG, Gary Paulsen

  THE BOY WHO OWNED THE SCHOOL, Gary Paulsen

  HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell

  BOBBY BASEBALL, Robert Kimmel Smith

  YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.

  For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,

  write to Dell Readers Service,

  P.O. Box 1045, South Holland, IL 60473.

  Published by

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers

  a division of

  Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  1540 Broadway

  New York, New York 10036

  Copyright © 1996 by Gary Paulsen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

  The trademarks Yearling® and Dell® are registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-80392-4

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper sat on the edge of one of the stiff, molded plastic seats at the bus station in Des Moines watching his best friend for life, Amos Binder, pace the floor in front of him.

  “Cheer up, Amos. It can’t be that bad.”

  “You haven’t met her. My cousin Tiffany is a pain. She’ll want us to have tea parties and play dolls with her. And another thing—she cries all the time. You never met a bigger sissy.”

  Dunc watched a bag lady poking through the trash can near the door of the bus depot. He pulled his suitcase a little closer and turned to Amos. “It’s been a few years since you’ve seen her. Maybe things have changed.”

  Amos put his hands in his pockets. “I doubt it. Tiffany’s family is in the process of moving to Washington. They only invited us down here to hold her hand while they get everything settled. Boy, am I glad your parents said you could come with me. Imagine—spending the whole spring break taking care of Tiffany by myself.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you said Tiffany was the same age as us.”

  “She is, but wait till you see her. She can’t even go to the bathroom without an escort.”

  “If you feel that way, why didn’t you just tell your parents you didn’t want to come?”

  Amos sat down. “They didn’t give me that option. My dad was still sore about the ice cream.”

  “Ice cream?” Dunc raised one eyebrow.

  “Yeah. He’d been after me for a few months to rake the front lawn, so out of the goodness of my heart—and also because he was withholding my allowance—I decided to rake the leaves last Saturday.”

  “What happened?”

  “About noon, I heard Sergio’s ice cream truck coming down the block. I’d been working steady for a good ten minutes, so I thought I’d buy me a triple decker and take a short break.”

  “Your dad was mad because you took a break?”

  “No. He was mostly mad about the hole in Mrs. Johnson’s windshield.”

  Dunc sighed and waited.

  “I was all set to order—one scoop of pistachio nut, one of marshmallow fudge, and one scoop of my favorite, pizza swirl supreme. But when I got close, a telephone rang from somewhere inside the truck. I was pretty sure it was Melissa calling to ask my opinion about that deranged Australian dude we have to write about in English. What’s his name?”

  Dunc knew that Melissa Hansen was Amos’s one and only true love. For years Amos had tried everything he could think of to impress her. Nothing ever seemed to work out. Not even hiring a mariachi band and standing in front of her house waving a fluorescent HELLO MELISSA banner. If anything, she was less aware of him now than before. Dunc also knew that if Amos were the last human on earth, Melissa still wouldn’t call him about an English assignment—especially in an ice cream truck.

  Dunc sighed. “The paper was on Hitler, Amos, and he was Austrian, not Australian. And it wasn’t an English assignment, it was for history class. Oh, and just in case you’re thinking about doing it, it was due last Wednesday.”

  “That’s the one. Anyway, I didn’t want to bother Sergio, because he was busy waiting on some little kids. So I ran around and jumped in the passenger side to answer it for him. Melissa likes me to get it on that all-important first ring, you know.”

  Dunc nodded. He had given up trying to tell Amos that Melissa could care less what ring he answered it on, since she never called him anyway. Amos could be stubborn about things like that.

  “I had plenty of time and probably would have made it, but I forgot I still had the rake in my hand. When I reached inside I accidentally hit the brake release with the handle, and the truck started rolling down that little hill in front of our house and stopped in front of the Johnsons’.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “The truck stopped when it rammed Mrs. Johnson’s new car. And you know that fake ice cream cone Sergio used to have on the top of his truck?”

  “Used to have?”

  Amos nodded. “Last time I saw it, the top scoop was still sticking through Mrs. Johnson’s windshield. My dad gave me a choice: Either get a night job or come to Des Moines and baby-sit.”

  “Did you ever answer the phone?”

  “That’s the worst part. It turns out it wasn’t a phone after all. It was just a bell Sergio rings to attract customers.”

  “I think you made the right choice—about coming to Iowa, I mean.” Dunc looked at his watch. “I wish they’d hurry up and get here. It’s getting late.”

  “It may be a while. Tiffany’s dad is some kind of big-shot politician. He said he’d come for us as soon as his last meeting let out.”

  A man in a badly stained suit who hadn’t had a shave in days sat down beside Amos. “Hey, kid. Got a quarter? I need it to buy coffee.”

  Amos scooted to the other side of his chair and whispered to Dunc. “This guy smells, and I don’t think he’s ever seen coffee. Let’s get out of here.”

  They picked up their bags and moved to the window at the front of the lobby.

  Amos stared out at the metropolitan buildings. “I didn’t realize Iowa had any big cities.”

  Dunc cleared his throat. “Des Moines is the largest city and also the capital of Iowa. Its population is approximately two hundred thousand. Chief exports are—”

  “If I wanted a rundown on vital statistics, I would have—Dunc, look, that grandma is crossing the street in front of traffic.”

/>   A small, bent, elderly woman was attempting to fight her way between oncoming cars to cross the street.

  They heard the squeal of brakes and saw the woman fall. Her cane flew into the air and landed near the bus depot.

  The boys raced outside. A cabdriver was already helping the woman to her feet. Amos handed her the cane.

  “Thank you, sonny.” She tried to take a step and fell back against the driver. “Oh my. I can’t seem to get my bearings. I must be a lot worse off than I thought.”

  The cabdriver pulled out his wallet. “Here, lady. Take this, it’s all I have.” He shoved a wad of money at her. “I can’t be part of no lawsuit or I’ll lose my job.”

  The woman looked at the money. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll use this money to go to the doctor and we’ll pretend this little accident never happened.”

  “That’s fine with me.” The driver hurriedly stepped back into his cab and drove away.

  Dunc picked up the woman’s purse and brushed it off. “Can we help you get some-place, ma’am?”

  “Goodness no. I’m on my way to see my doctor. His office is just up the street.” The woman took her handbag and tottered down the sidewalk and out of sight.

  Dunc rubbed his chin. “Hmmm.”

  Amos looked at him. “Now cut that out. Every time you make that stupid sound, it’s a sure sign you’re gonna get us into some kind of trouble.”

  “Amos?” Dunc led the way back to the curb. “Did you actually see the cab hit that woman?”

  Amos shook his head. “No. I hate the sight of blood. I’m pretty sure I had my eyes closed.”

  “I don’t think it hit her. I think that woman fell after the cab had already stopped.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Lots of things. Her bright green eyes, for one. It’s hard to explain. It was like they were laughing at us. And another thing …” Dunc looked through the bus station window. “Amos, that man has our bags.”

  A thin man with tattoos covering both arms had their suitcases and was moving quickly to the back exit of the bus station. Dunc started running after him.

  “Hiii-yaaa!”

  A girl in a white karate gi raced past them. She gave the man a vicious kick in the middle of his back and a quick chop on the side of his neck. He dropped the bags and crawled out the door, groaning.

  She turned to Dunc just as he got to her and stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Tiffany, Amos’s cousin.”

  Tiffany led them to the entrance of an elegant apartment complex. The doorman held the glass door open. “Good afternoon, Ms. Tiffany. Anything I can do for you today?”

  “Not today, Grimes, thank you.”

  Dunc elbowed Amos, whose mouth was still hanging open, and whispered, “I thought you said she was a sissy.”

  Tiffany pushed the button beside the elevator. “Dad’s meeting went long, so he sent me to get you. Boy, am I glad you guys came. Things around here were getting a little boring. Do you play any sports?”

  Dunc pounded Amos on the back. “Amos here is the checker king of our school.”

  The elevator doors opened. Tiffany held them while the boys stepped in. “No, I mean real sports. Are you on any teams?”

  Dunc frowned. “Not unless you count the debate team. I’m the captain.”

  Tiffany looked disappointed. “How about martial arts? Judo? Kung fu? Karate?”

  Dunc shook his head.

  Amos finally found his voice. “Jim Gots Yu.”

  Dunc stared at him, but Amos ignored him and went on, “I’m really into it. It’s one of those highly specialized forms.”

  The elevator stopped. Tiffany moved to a door with marble columns on either side and put her key card in the slot. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one. Is it new?”

  She heard a yes and a no at the same time. Dunc had said the yes. Amos glared at him. “It’s one of those old Chinese ones. Very old. In fact, it’s so old only a select few people in the world even know it still exists.”

  “Sounds neat. Maybe you could show me some moves later.” Tiffany opened the door and scooped up a black-and-white cat. “Spats, you entertain these guys while I get changed.” She pointed down the hall. “Your room is the third on the right. Make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.”

  Dunc waited until she was out of hearing range. “Jim Gots Yu?”

  Amos shrugged and headed down the hall. “It was the best I could do on short notice. You don’t want her to think we’re a couple of wimps, do you?”

  Dunc put his bag on one of the twin beds. “What are you going to do when she wants to see some of your moves?”

  Amos stretched out on the other bed. “She’ll probably forget all about it, and if she doesn’t, I’ll wing it. How hard can it be?”

  “Look at this view,” Dunc said as he pulled the curtains open. “There’s a courtyard down there. The building is in the shape of a horseshoe.”

  Amos sat up. “Shut the curtains. People from the other side can probably see us.”

  “It’s her!”

  “Who?” Amos jumped off the bed and moved to the window. “A movie star? Don’t tell me—Melissa is in Iowa.”

  “It’s not her—it’s her.” Dunc was almost screaming. He pointed to the apartment directly across from theirs.

  “I don’t get it. It’s only a gray-haired little woman.”

  Tiffany burst through the door. “Is everything okay? I thought I heard yelling.”

  Amos moved back to the bed and sat down. “To be fair, I really should explain something to you about my friend Dunc. He’s crazy.”

  Dunc turned. “You don’t understand. The woman in that apartment is the one who claimed she was hit by the cab.”

  Tiffany was confused. “Some woman was hit by a cab today?”

  “That’s just it,” Dunc said. “She wasn’t. She only pretended to be hit. She was dressed in rags as if she was real poor. The cabdriver gave her a whole lot of money so she wouldn’t turn him in. But when I picked up her purse I noticed that it was made from alligator skin, which is really expensive. I think she’s a con artist.”

  “Here’s what we have so far.” Dunc made a couple of notes in his pocket notebook. “An elderly woman pretending to be poor who lives in a classy building like this and carries an alligator purse …”

  They had just sat down to lunch. Amos took the first bite of his sandwich. “She’s probably visiting here, and her daughter from Cleveland gave her the purse.”

  Dunc ignored him. “… who only pretended to be hit, when in fact the cab never touched her.”

  Tiffany came back into the room. “I looked in the phone book. There are no doctor’s offices anywhere near the bus station.”

  “… and who lied about going to see her doctor,” Dunc said smugly.

  “Give the lady a break.” Amos peeled a banana. “Maybe she’s senile on top of everything else.”

  “Amos does have a point.” Tiffany sat on the arm of the sofa. “How could you prove any of this?”

  “Please don’t ask him that.” Amos moaned and closed his eyes.

  Dunc looked at his notes. “First we need to find out her apartment number, and then we’ll talk to Grimes, the doorman, and find out who she is. Then, if our suspicions are correct, we’ll need to set up a surveillance network.”

  “A surveillance network?” Tiffany asked, scratching her head.

  “I told you not to ask,” Amos said. “He thinks he’s some kind of detective. We really shouldn’t encourage it.”

  Tiffany laughed. “Sounds like fun to me. How do we find out her apartment number?”

  “That part’s easy enough. Come on.” Dunc led the way out the door.

  “Wait.” Amos grabbed an apple. “What about lunch?”

  He was talking to air.

  “Which one is it?” Amos rounded the corner with Spats trailing behind him.

  “I don’t know.” Dunc looked at the nameplates on the doors as they walked by. �
��It’s gotta be one of these two. But from this side, I can’t tell which. I guess we’ll have to wait until someone comes out.”

  “I have a better idea.” Tiffany picked up Spats. “The woman has already seen both of you. She might get suspicious if you hang around. Wait behind that plant over there.”

  Tiffany put Spats on the floor and let him run off down the hall. Then she knocked on the first door.

  A large man with bulging muscles, blond hair, and a thin mustache answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Excuse me, sir. I’ve lost my cat, and I was wondering if anyone in your apartment had seen him.”

  The man yelled over his shoulder. “Hey, Wanda. You seen a cat?”

  A gorgeous redhead slithered up next to the man and shook her head. The man looked back at Tiffany. “Ain’t seen no cats.”

  “Thanks any—”

  The door slammed in her face.

  Tiffany turned to the plant and shrugged. Dunc motioned for her to go to the next door. She moved to it and knocked. There was no answer.

  The boys stepped out of their hiding place and helped Tiffany catch up with Spats.

  “I don’t get it,” Dunc said. “I was so sure.”

  “Everybody makes mistakes.” Amos took a bite of his apple. “I wouldn’t let the fact that you tend to make them more often than anybody else—in the whole world—bother you.”

  Tiffany opened the door of her apartment and stopped. “You know, there could have been another person in that apartment.”

  Amos frowned. “I told you not to encourage him.”

  She went to the hall closet and searched through the shelves. “Here’s what we need.” She held up a pair of binoculars.

  “Great.” Amos plopped on the sofa. “My best friend and my cousin are turning into Peeping Toms.”

  “Come on, Amos.” Dunc took the binoculars and headed for the bedroom. “This way we’ll know for sure.”

  “You two should be ashamed of yourselves—spying on people like this.” Amos followed them down the hall. “I mean, how would you like it if someone did it to you?” He sat on the bed beside Dunc, squinting out the window. “Do you see anything yet? Maybe we should take turns.”