“Mom, I can’t find my baseball glove,” Mikey said, as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. “I have a game with the guys in an hour and it’s completely gone.” He frowned and fiddled with a loose string on the cushion next to him. 

 

His mom set her book down and looked over her reading glasses. “Oh, that’s too bad. Have you checked your room?”

 

Mikey was offended. “What do I look like? Of course I did.”

 

“Michael McGee!”

 

He winced. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve looked everywhere – behind the dresser and under the bed. It’s not there.”

 

“Hmm, could you borrow one of your friends’ gloves for the game until yours pops up?”

 

“I wish. None of the guys are lefty’s.” Mikey slumped deeper into the couch. “It’s hopeless.”

 

“Well, have you asked Eyes to have a look around for you?” Mikey’s little sister, Abigail, could find anything. That’s why they called her Eyes. It didn’t matter what it was or where you’d lost it – she’d always find it. 

 

“No, she isn’t home.”

 

“She must be helping Missus Wickle still.”

 

“Yeah and I wish she’d hurry up already.” 

 

The back screen door opened and slammed shut, cutting him off. “Mom, you’ll never believe where I found Missus Wickle’s keys,” Eyes shouted from the kitchen. 

 

Mikey was relieved. “Hey Eyes, I need your help,” he hollered.

 

“Okey doke,” she called back. Her quick steps echoed on the tiled floor. Abigail skipped into the living room, her big, brown eyes opened wide, her curly red hair bouncing. “What’s up?”

 

“I can’t find my baseball glove. Would you look around for it for me?”

 

“Sure,” Eyes said. She narrowed her eyes, showing she was already deep in thought. “Did you look in the fridge?”

 

Mikey laughed. “No, there’s no way my glove could be in there.” 

 

“How do you know if you haven’t looked? I found Missus Wickle’s keys in a bowl of chocolate pudding in the fridge,” Eyes said as she stomped her foot. “And if you’re going to laugh, you can find your own silly glove.” 

 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Please find it.” 

 

She glared at him, then turned around and went back into the kitchen. 

 

He got off the couch and followed her. Mikey knew better than to tease her too much. She always found things because she thought to look places it would never occur to anyone else to look. He knew, with Eyes on the case, his baseball glove was as good as found.

 

She was closing the refrigerator door when he got into the kitchen. “Well, you were right, it wasn’t in there.” She started opening all the drawers and cupboards.

 

Mikey bit his tongue and didn’t say, I told you so. “Really?” he said instead. “Missus Wickle’s keys were in pudding?”

 

“Yeah,” Eyes said with a giggle. “Her keys were a chocolatey mess. Hmm, did you look in the dog’s house?”

 

He really tried hard not to laugh and sound serious as he said, “No, I didn’t think to look there.”

 

“Well, Barker could’ve taken it. He has that squeaker toy that looks like a baseball glove, you know.”

 

Mikey hadn’t thought of that. He raced with Eyes out the backdoor to check but Barker was in his house, blocking the opening. He was chewing and slobbering all over something and Mikey couldn’t tell what it was because it was mostly in Barker’s mouth. 

 

“Hey boy,” Mikey said, reaching into the house. Please don’t be my glove. “Whatcha got?”

 

Barker barked and dropped a bone. Mikey let out a sigh of relief, grabbed it and threw it across the yard -- Barker chased after it. With Barker’s big spotted butt out of the way, they looked through all his toys.

 

No sign of the glove, not even the squeaking one. Mikey tried not to be too disappointed -- he’d really hoped to find the glove there. But he figured it was better that it wasn’t with Barker. Otherwise it could’ve been all chewed up and wet like the bone.

 

“Not here,” Eyes said cheerfully. “Okay, let’s see. Did you check the bathtub?”

 

The bathtub? Mikey shook his head. “No.”

 

“Geez Mikey, where did you look?”

 

“I searched my room from top to bottom – where it should’ve been.”

 

“Beginner,” she said and stuck out her tongue.

 

Eyes turned and Mikey followed her back into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. “I really don’t think you’re going to find it --”

 

“Ah ha!” Eyes reached into the tub and pulled out Mikey’s glove. “Here it is.” 

 

“What was it doing in there?”

 

“How should I know?” Eyes asked, handing him the glove. “I didn’t put it there.”

 

Mikey snorted and ran out of the bathroom. He had a game to get to.

 

“You’re welcome,” she called after him.

 

“Thanks Eyes, I’ll win it for you,” he shouted back. 

 

Comments

Search RSS

3.26 Copyright (C) 2008 Compojoom.com / Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved."