A Fish Named Yum by Mary Elise Monsell Page B

truck on a day like this?”
    â€œHow’s your CB working?” asked Mr. Pin.
    â€œCould be better. It needs electricity. Why?”
    â€œThere’s another one in the basement.”
    â€œRight, but it needs batteries … batteries! Of course. I bet I could get it to work. Then what?”
    â€œPut the word out to the truckers that you need a freezer truck fast. Tell them it’s an emergency. Something to do with ice cream, especially chocolate. They’ll understand if they know it’s for Smiling Sally’s.”
    But there wasn’t much time to talk. Saving ice cream and fixing radios would have to wait until after lunch.
    Smiling Sally’s filled quickly when people discovered it was still open. Dozens of hungry flood workers carried helmets under their arms as they stomped into the diner with their heavy rubber boots. There were even some workers outfitted in diving equipment. It was beginning to look like the set for the “Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau.” One of the divers left a small pump for Sally which would keep the diner, for a little while, above sea level.
    After clearing away a mountain of dishes that couldn’t be washed, Maggie went upstairs to see if she could get a portable CB radio to work. Sally gave away the leftover food to a homeless shelter then decided to walk to a camping store to find a Coleman stove. That left Mr. Pin with the job of saving his plants from total darkness and the city from too much water.

4
    In the eerie reaches of Smiling Sally’s basement, Mr. Pin was well-equipped. A large flashlight was tucked under his wing along with rope, rubber waders, and a pump. He looked like he was ready for fly-fishing in a swollen stream.
    The flies would have to wait. In the flashlight’s beam, Mr. Pin saw that the floor was wet, but the water wasn’t too deep. Not yet anyway. Mr. Pin left the rubber waders on the stairs then took the long hose of the water pump and directed it to where most of the water appeared to be coming in.
    Then Mr. Pin surveyed the rest of the basement. The flour sacks he’d placed on the crack were just about ruined, but the rest of the diner’s supplies would be all right for a little while, since they were stacked on shelves.
    His plants were another story. How long, he wondered, could they survive in the dark under these swamplike conditions? Pump or no pump, the water might rush in and flood the whole basement. The risk was great.
    The plants had to go. One by one, Mr. Pin ferried the heavy pots across the rising water and hauled them upstairs into the diner. By late afternoon, Smiling Sally’s looked like Herb’s Bionic Garden.
    Mr. Pin was just taking his last plant up the basement stairs when he heard a voice booming through the back door.
    â€œWhere would you like the truck?”
    â€œNot in here,” said Mr. Pin completely hidden behind the plant.
    Hank, the trucker, jumped about three feet in the air. Then he parted the vines. He looked at the plant more closely.
    â€œMr. Pin!” he said seeing the rockhopper. “Uh, sorry, I thought it was a talking plant.”
    â€œAfraid not,” said Mr. Pin. “I only talk to my plants.”
    Getting over the shock, Hank said: “I heard you need a freezer truck.”
    â€œAbsolutely!” said Mr. Pin as he put the plant on the counter. “Chocolate ice cream is in danger.”
    â€œDanger?”
    â€œRight. You never know when you’re going to need a few gallons of chocolate ice cream.”
    â€œOf course,” said Hank.
    With renewed energy, Hank and Mr. Pin hauled Sally’s softening ice cream outside to the alley where a freezer truck was parked. Hank offered to bring another truck if it would help keep the diner business going.
    The diner was quiet when Hank finally left. Surrounded by plants, Mr. Pin took a moment to rest his feet. He sat back in a booth and pretty soon his beak fell