Sink or Swim by Bob Balaban Page A

Dieterly’s store.”
    â€œI’m loving it,” Sam says. “The creature falls in, the authorities come and arrest him, and you’re not a suspect anymore, Charlie.”
    â€œAnd I won’t have to be on the swimming team anymore,” I say happily. “Or get expelled. And Mr. Hollabird will ask my mom to sell her desserts to Beautiful Bites. Happy ending all around!”
    â€œThis whole thing sounds incredibly familiar.” Lucille scratches her head. “Didn’t we see something like this once in a movie?
    â€œWe sure did,” Sam says. “That’s how Jack Driscoll and Carl Denham, fearless explorers, trapped the mighty King Kong. We watched the movie in fifth grade. I had nightmares for a week.”
    â€œWhat are we waiting for?” I grab my backpack and head downstairs. Sam and Lucille follow close behind.
    â€œWhat’s the plan?” Lucille asks.
    â€œWe’re going to my house to finish our English report. It’s due Friday,” Sam whispers. “Follow my lead.”
    â€œWhat do we do when they insist on driving us to your house, Sam?” Lucille asks. “Because they will and you know it.”
    â€œWe let them,” Sam says.
    â€œNo,” I say firmly. “We
ask
them to drive us before they bring it up. It’s much less likely to raise their suspicions.”
    â€œBingo,” Sam says. “And
then
we go trap us a creature.”
    My parents are in the den playing gin rummy for pennies. They have kept a running total for the last twenty years. So far my dad owes my mom over seven thousand dollars. My mom says she’s willing to compromise. She’ll accept a used Volkswagen convertible instead of the money.
    â€œWe have to go to Sam’s to finish our English report, Mom and Dad. All our notes are on his computer and it’s due Friday. Can you drive us?”
    â€œWe’d be happy to, Charlie.” Mom gathers up the cards and puts the box into the drawer. “I’m glad you asked. With that robber lurking around out there you can’t be too careful.”
    My dad carefully counts up the score. “I owe you another two dollars and fifty cents, Doris.”
    â€œPut it on my tab, Fred.” She gets up from the table. “Wear your gloves, kids. It’s cold out.”
    I sneak the leftover salmon from tonight’s dinner out of the fridge and into my backpack while my mom and my dad put on their overcoats. Then we all pile into my mom’s beat-up red pickup truck and head for Sam’s.
    â€œHow long do you think you’ll be, kids?” my dad asks as we chug down Lonesome Lane
    â€œI’d say an hour and a half, Mr. D,” Sam replies. “It’s a pretty complicated project.”
    â€œWhat’s it about?” my mom asks.
    â€œThe use of the subjunctive tense in the short stories of Edgar Allan Poe.”
    I don’t know how Sam comes up with this stuff so quickly. For a basically honorable guy, he lies like a rug.
    â€œThat’s very interesting, Sam,” my mom comments. “Can you give me an example?”
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t, Mrs. D,” Sam replies without batting an eyelash. “Many of Poe’s short stories are no longer in print. That’s why it’s taking us so long to write our report. Finding the original source material is a real back-breaker.”
    If they ever make lying an Olympic sport, Sam’s a gold-medal winner for sure.
    â€œWe’ll be back to pick you up at eight forty-five on the dot, Charlie,” my mom announces as we pull into Sam’s driveway and hop out of the truck. “Please be ready to go then.”
    Sam, Lucille, and I wave good-bye before going into Sam’s house. My mom and dad wait out front until they see the front door close behind us. I love my parents, but sometimes they’re harder to shake than burrs off a woolen mitten.
    â€œWe have to hunt