1 Death of a Garden Hoe

1 Death of a Garden Hoe by Gale Borger Page A

Book: 1 Death of a Garden Hoe by Gale Borger Read Free Book Online
Authors: Gale Borger
Tags: Young Adult Mystery
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Bean so hard he stumbled backward. He jumped back and raised both hands. "Whoa, girl! I was just trying to help. I wasn't trying to grab you! Geez, take a pill."
    Spaz stopped and looked back. "Oh. Sorry. Out of my way, then." She shoved past him and walked ahead for another block. She stopped near an alley. Pone, Shroom, and Bean caught up to her.
    Breathing hard, Pone stuck his hands into his back pockets. "Are we all together now?"
    Bean said, "Yup, I'm good."
    Spaz just looked at them. "Can we vote on that?"
    Shroom didn't answer, but walked past all three and stood near the opening of the alley.
    Bean saw him go and turned to follow. "Shroom? You okay?"
    Pone called, "Yo Shroomster, what up?"
    Shroom looked like he was sneaking up on someone. He moved slowly, and stopped. He sniffed the air and walked on. Shroom stepped into the opening of the alley and stopped dead. He held up a hand and the group went silent. The three others crept forward and stopped behind him.
    Pone touched his shoulder and Shroom jumped. "Shroom, slow down, man. What are you doing?"
    "There's something in the alley, now shut up."
    Pone snorted. "How do you know that? Some Mexican voodoo spell or something?"
    Shroom raised an eyebrow. "I'm half Swede, Pone. That's where the blue eyes come from. Why do you always dis the Mexican? Do I assume you're a pimp just because you're black?"
    Pone shut up and stared. "Hell no! But I didn't mean–"
    Shroom shook his head. "Forget it. It's something you pick up living on the streets. Just go with me here."
    "Shroom, I'm sorry if you took what I said as a–"
    Shroom held up his hand again. "Shut up, man! I don't care if you're a racist. Everyone hates us anyway. It's over, let's get out of–"
    "But I'm not racist, man. I don't care if you're a Mexican or an Irishman! I just–"
    Bean looked confused. "Uh, I'm Irish. Does that count?"
    They all said, "Shut up, Bean!"
    Shroom closed his eyes and breathed in. "Trouble. Don't you smell it? Something is dead in there, and I ain't waiting around to see what it is."
    Pone grabbed Shroom's T-shirt. "Wait a minute. How would you know someone's dead in that alley? You got ESP or something?"
    Shroom fisted his hands. "I said some thing , not someone, and I don't have ESP. I ain't no mind reader."
    Bean stepped up. "Actually ESP is something different than what you guys are talking about. Unless, of course, you're using it in the sense that–"
    Both Shroom and Pone turned to him and yelled "Shut up, Bean!"
    Bean stabbed his toe in the ground and ducked behind Spaz. She looked him up and down. "No one likes a wise ass." She turned back and ignored him.
    Bean turned red and shut his mouth. He mumbled to himself. "Can't help it I'm smart."
    Spaz didn't turn around. "Can't help it you're a dumbass, either."
    Shroom said, "I say we mind our own business and just leave. Let someone else find whatever it is."
    Spaz rolled her eyes and pushed her way forward. "Scared little boy? I say we go see what it is. Now." She looked at Pone and hitched her thumb at Shroom. "That way we can prove that Mister Gang Banger here is full of BS."
    Shroom narrowed his eyes and grumbled, "That's ex -gang banger to you, bi-atch."
    Spaz flashed a smile. " Ooo that hurt. I still say we go. Are you girls coming?"
    Pone hesitated. "I don't know. What if Shroom is right? I can't afford no more trouble."
    Spaz shoved past him and stood hands on hips. "Whah-whah, ya babies! None of us can afford more trouble. But how can we get into more trouble if we don't do anything?"
    Bean raised a hand. "Uh, I can answer that!"
    All together, they answered, "Shut up, Bean!"
    Bean shut up. He stepped back in frustrated silence. He couldn't help sounding stupid to them. He couldn't help being smart. He couldn't help it if he didn't grow up on the streets. He wasn't one of them. He knew that, they knew that, and they hated him for it. Bean really wasn't a criminal. Bean just got drunk and stupid. Not one of them could

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