The Mutual Admiration Society(55)
When my sister throws back her head, I’m sure she’s about to start raving crazy things the way a person would if they went from minor-league cracked to major-league cracked, but she surprises the heck out of me once again. Instead of letting loose of a loony-sounding, unhinged laugh like the movie gals who are locked up in padded cells make when it’s their turn to get dragged down to the steaming hot baths, she does one of her regular old belly laughs.
“That’s a very good impression of the head doctor in The Snake Pit movie, Tessie,” Birdie says, “but I got news for you. You’re the one that’s gotta screw your head on straight. I sister-promise that Sister M and M is not dead. Now”—she slips her little foot into my cupped hands—“what say we climb this fence, have a quick meeting with Charlie, and then we’ll all go up to church so you can confess to Father Ted in your Shirley Temple voice and question Kitten Jablonski to see what she can tell us about Sister’s disappearance.”
I don’t know, ya know?
It must be the Indian summer heat getting to me, because just for a second, I swear I saw something so smart beaming out of Birdie’s eyes that it made me doubt everything I ever thought about her, because never before have I heard her say so many smart things all at the same time.
Q. Could I have been wrong about her all these years? Maybe it’s not the size of a kid’s brain that makes them an egghead. Maybe a kid’s heart can make them really smart, too?
A. Ask again later.
Naw, that’d be a waste of breath, because my sister gives me the answer to those questions when I crouch down even further to give her a better boost over the cemetery fence and say, “Ready for the old heave-ho?” and she licks my cheek and says, “Ready, Frank!”
16
A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN
12:36 p.m. Well, that just goes to show ya once again how life can change on a dime. If you would’ve asked me a few minutes ago what the chances would be of my sister stumbling across another piece of evidence, I would’ve laughed and launched a loogie at you from the top of the cemetery fence.
FACT: Sister Margaret Mary is not dead.
PROOF: Normally I take everything that comes out of my Birdie’s mouth with more grains of salt than a box of Morton’s (Joke!) but she sister-promised that she saw the missing nun alive. (Obviously, it crossed my mind that what she saw was a zombie, which is a person who is dead, but still gets around. But Birdie told me that she saw our principal running near the willow tree and in every movie about zombies I’ve ever seen at the Tosa Theatre, they are a very slow-moving people.)
Of course, it’s a huge relief to know now that Mr. McGinty isn’t guilty of killing, but he isn’t completely in the clear yet of performing any criminal activity. His initials are still on the St. Christopher medal I got in my front pocket, so even if he didn’t murder M. M., I still might’ve seen him kidnapping her outta my window last night. For all we know, what Birdie witnessed at the willow tree was our principal escaping from J. M.’s shack this afternoon, where she was being held prisoner for ransom. That nun might at this very minute be back at the convent already dialing up the cops at the Washington St. station house to report that she got snatched by our friend and that they better arrest him ASAP, but she’ll be shit outta luck in that department. According to the ton of gangster movies I’ve seen, kidnapping is known as a federal case and believe me, G-men are no laughing matter. They got worse senses of humor than my mother.
On the other hand . . . the ex–army sergeant who is always on high alert for intruders can be very fast on his feet, because he dodged all but one of the land mines he came across during the war. He would have no problem catching up with his escaped prisoner. Sister Margaret Mary could at this very minute be strapped with tidy but tighter knots to one of Mr. McGinty’s folding chairs at his card table.
But on the other, other hand . . .
FACT: My brain feels like a beehive buzzing with a million on the other hands and that’s not the way a trained investigator should be feeling if they want to hunker down and solve THE CASE OF THE MISSING NUN WHO MIGHT BE KIDNAPPED AND MURDERED BUT NOT BY MR. MCGINTY.
PROOF: Modern Detection says, “An investigator should always remain clearheaded. During the course of an investigation, you must not falter or doubt yourself. You must stay firm in your convictions.”
Easy for him to say.
I’m ashamed to admit that my mind is murky, and that I am faltering and doubting myself worse than Thomas, and I feel about as firm in my convictions as one of Gert Klement’s triple chins. I’m the president, for godssakes, and I don’t have a clue where I should lead The Mutual Admiration Society next, other than up to church so I can Shirley-confess and talk to my confidential informant, Kitten Jablonski, the way Birdie said we should after she performed ESP on me to learn my new plan. (Maybe her Indian vision is so good that she saw straight into my mind, because believe me, it’d be impossible for her to think up all those smart ideas all at the same time all by herself. After I tuck her in tonight, I’m gonna think of a number from one to ten and see if she can guess it, because her being able to mind read, well, as you can imagine, that would be a real moneymaker.)
Yes, if I’m being truthful with myself, our case has come apart on me. I have too many questions and not enough answers. The only something I’m feeling even a tiny bit good about at this point in the investigation is that there’s a chance that The Mutual Admiration Society might strike blackmailing pay dirt if Sister Margaret Mary is still kidnapped and if we can find out who did it. As long as it’s anybody but Mr. McGinty, we are in for such a windfall and I know exactly how I’m going to spend it, if we don’t have to use it to pay for Greyhound bus tickets so we can run away.