So, what do you do when you find yourself at somebody’s breakfast table uninvited?
I’m not sure.
And this professor was uncomfortable. Immediately.
Mr. Magi’s eyebrows raised a few times. “Aha! I knew the letter wasn’t in your writing, Fat Man.” Mr. Magi stood suddenly, and began to pace back and forth on the marble floor.
I tell you it’s marble now—I’m never one for useless information, you know—because Mr. Magi’s shoes made a distinct click and clack as he walked back and forth.
“Yeah, I didn’t invite any of you,” Fats Henry repeated. “I though you all just came in to bother me—and eat my food!”
Daddy Salami laughed. “Yer a dummy, Fatty.”
And that’s when she showed up.
I’m not really sure where she came from.
She was just there all the sudden.
“I invited you all here,” LottieOllie said.
Fats Henry was shocked and angry.
The professor was amused.
Mr. Magi seemed relieved.
And Daddy Salami kept eating.
“You had no right!” Henry scowled wonderfully.
“But I did,” LottieOllie said as she stepped forward.
She was dressed all in black—leather, I think—and her short black hair looked odd.
A wig. At least, that’s what I thought. The professor could have been wrong. She would have been mad had she known my thoughts on her hair. But it was her fault. She wore it in the most unnatural way. That proved it was a wig—to this professor.
“What are you up to, young lady?!” Mr. Magi asked. “And you must tell the whole truth.”
“My client,” LottieOllie said, “hired me to get the four of you in one room—at the same time. I succeeded. And the photo I took proves it.”
“But why would your client want that?” Mr. Magi asked.
Lottie shrugged and smiled.
“Who is your client?” this professor asked.
“Dr. Zauberer,” she answered.
“It makes sense,” Mr. Magi said as he put on his top hat. “He’s crazy. Probably wants a photo for his silly records. I must go see him now.”
And Mr. Magi left.
Fats Henry did, too. The kitchen was his destination.
I gave Lottie the meanest face I could muster.
“Not fun to be tricked, is it, professor?” she asked.
“Not particularly,” I said. “But I probably knew about it the whole time.”
“No, ya didn’t,” Salami cut in. “Ruber might have, but you wouldn’t have.”
Lottie hesitated. “Don’t think me evil, professor,” she said. “What I do, I must do.”
And LottieOllie left. The professor had a feeling I’d be seeing her again—soon.
“It’s a wonder,” I sad aloud, “that she cares if I think her evil.”
Daddy Salami’s mouth dropped and he looked at me. “What ya been doin’ these days, P.VJ?”
Connect with the professor on Twitter: https://twitter.com/ProfessorVJDuke
Friend the professor on Facebook: http://goo.gl/TYB2Jw