Freddie Ramos Takes Off by Jacqueline Jules Page A

it comes!” Mr. Vaslov smiled as the walls of the toolshed started to shake.
    I waved a quick goodbye and headed out the door.
    The purple sneakers made a soft buzzing sound. My feet felt light. I ran faster and faster until the grass was just a blur beneath me.
    Smoke whooshed out of my heels. The wind whipped across my cheeks. My legs whirled so fast I could hardly see them.
    But I could see the train. It was up there beside me, falling behind! And I was zooming ahead, like a supercharged engine in my purple sneakers. Rápido! My pretend game had turned real! I was as fast as an airplane, racing the train. And winning!
    When I got to the station, I dropped to the ground behind the fence. The train roared in over me. I’d just run a whole mile in a few seconds!
    Talk about Zapato Power! I looked down at my purple sneakers. They were super shoes. I had super power! Where did Uncle Jorge get shoes like this? How fast could I get home to call him?

    I stood up and spread out my arms.

    My feet took off like jet wheels on a runway. One blink later, I was back at 29G.

3. The Mysteries Begin

    â€œGracias!” I shouted into the phone. “Thank you!”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” Uncle Jorge said. “What did I do?”
    â€œYou sent me Zapato Power! The fastest sneakers in the world!”
    â€œSneakers?” Uncle Jorge repeated. “Sorry. It wasn’t me.”
    If Uncle Jorge hadn’t sent me the shoes, who had?
    â€œSo what else is happening?” Uncle Jorge asked. “How’s your head? You still keeping it short like a soldier?”
    I laughed. Uncle Jorge always teased me about my hair. He said it made me look like my hero dad.
    We talked a few minutes more. I told him about getting an A for the first time in spelling, and about the new basketball courts at school. Even though I’m shorter than most of the other guys, I can still get the ball through the hoop.

    â€œWatch the mail,” Uncle Jorge promised just before he said goodbye. “I’ll get paid next week and send you something good.”
    â€œThanks, Uncle Jorge.” I hung up the phone, still wondering where my purple sneakers came from.
    Maybe Mom could tell me. I always called to tell her I got home all right anyway. She worked in a busy doctors’ office, answering telephones. I munched on pretzels while I waited on hold, listening to music and an electronic voice telling me my call was important.
    â€œDid you leave a box on the doorstep for me?” I asked when I finally got through.
    â€œNo, Freddie.” Mom sounded puzzled. “I always leave things for you on the table.”
    I knew that was true, but when you’re solving a mystery, you have to check everything out, even if it means saying mushy stuff to your mom on the phone.
    â€œSee you at six, mi hijito.”
    â€œLove you, too, Mom.”
    I’d made enough phone calls. It was time to investigate in other places.
    â€œI need to look at the box,” I realized.
    But it was still at Mr. Vaslov’s shed. I fed my guinea pig, Claude the Second, and left 29G, wearing my new purple sneakers. They felt like foam under my feet.
    â€œMr. Vaslov!” I knocked on the toolshed door.
    He opened it wearing safety goggles, like a scientist.
    â€œI’m busy now, Freddie,” he said. “Can I help you later?”
    â€œI need the box my sneakers came in.”
    â€œWhy do you want that?” Mr. Vaslov pushed his goggles up.

    â€œI’m trying to find out who gave me my purple sneakers.”
    Mr. Vaslov scratched his face.
    â€œFreddie,” he said. “Just enjoy the sneakers. Don’t worry about where they came from.”
    It was good advice, but I’m a curious guy.
    â€œPlease. Can you tell me where the box is?”
    Mr. Vaslov pushed his goggles back down over his blue eyes.
    â€œI put it out for the trash.” He closed the door.
    Luckily, the box was beside the