Sink or Swim by Bob Balaban

convinced you robbed his store.”
    â€œWhat?” my father gasps. “That’s ridiculous. Charlie would never do a thing like that.” Sam and Lucille nod their heads supportively.
    â€œThat is exactly what I told Mr. Hollabird. I said he was jumping to conclusions, and when all the evidence was in, he would see how wrong he was. I gave him every opportunity to apologize.”
    â€œWhat did he say, Mom?” I ask.
    â€œHe said if you confess he’ll go easy on you. But if you don’t . . . he’s going to bar me from the baking competition.”
    My fork slips from my claw and hits my plate with a loud clanging sound. I cannot believe my earflaps.
    â€œCan you imagine?” Mom goes on. “The nerve of that man. I gave him a piece of my mind, believe you me.”
    â€œI’ll confess, Mom.” I rise up suddenly from my seat at the table, forget to duck, and hit my head on the ceiling. A light sprinkling of plaster dust lands on the quesadillas. “I can’t let that man punish you for something I didn’t even do. It’s not fair. You’ve worked all your life to perfect those recipes.”
    â€œThat’s so sweet, Charlie, but I could never let you do that,” my mom says vehemently. “I wouldn’t
consider
working for that man now. Not after what he said about you. Not even if he got on his hands and knees and begged me to forgive him.”
    I sit back down. Mom wets her napkin in her water glass and wipes the top of my head.
    â€œBut Mom,” I begin. “This is your big break!”
    â€œI already have everything I need, sweetie. I have my family and my health and a wonderful career. There will be plenty of other opportunities.”
    â€œYour mother’s right,” my dad adds. “Let’s finish our dinner and get on with our lives. Mr. Hollabird will just have to find some other nutritionally oriented talented dessert chef to take your mother’s place.”
    We all continue eating as if nothing happened. Vegetables are passed. The table is cleared. We dig into my mom’s delicious flourless chocolate soufflé. But I can think of only one thing: I must capture the creature and bring it to justice. I will find a way. This isn’t just about
me
anymore. It’s about something much bigger than that. It’s about my family. And I would do anything for them. Anything.

9
    BAIT AND SWITCH
    â€œSO WHAT DO WE do now?” Sam asks. He paces around my room, anxiously drumming his fingers on his substantial belly. Mom and Dad are still doing the dinner dishes while my friends and I are supposedly finishing our homework. As if.
    â€œCall the police?” Lucille sits on the edge of Dave’s bed, tying and retying her size twelve saddle shoes. To say Lucille’s feet are big is like saying water is wet.
    â€œWhat good would that do?” Sam counters. “They’ve been on the case for the last thirty-six hours and as far as I can tell they haven’t come up with a single lead. At least Charlie’s actually laid eyes on the thing.”
    â€œTrue,” I say quietly. “I hate to admit it, but we’ll just have to catch the creature ourselves and do our best not to get killed.”
    â€œThat would be nice.” Lucille looks up. “I would really prefer to avoid death by homicidal maniac.”
    â€œSo how exactly do you plan to do that, Charlie?” Sam asks.
    â€œYou know that old dry well behind the fairgrounds?”
    â€œSure,” Lucille says. “It’s all boarded up. Nobody ever goes there anymore.”
    â€œWhat are you driving at, Drinkwater?” Sam asks.
    â€œWe uncover it, disguise it with leaves and branches, lure the creature over to it with some kind of bait, like maybe . . . um . . .”
    â€œFish!” Lucille exclaims. “We know he loves fish because he just stole all that salmon from Mr.