The Case of the Library Monster (5 page)

Has skin with scales

Is a tetrapod

“What’s a tetrapod?” I ask the kid who’s reading to me right now. He smells like sugar, oatmeal, and yuck—
cat!
“And what’s cold-blooded?”

Sugar-Oatmeal-Cat boy keeps reading: “A tetrapod has four legs or had ancestors with four legs.”

“What? Really?” I say. “But I thought a snake was a reptile. Snakes don’t have
any
legs.”

Thinking about snakes reminds me of Bob, the Reptile Guy, and all the animals he brought. I wonder if the library monster is a reptile? Maybe it belongs to Bob, the Reptile Guy. Maybe it escaped while he was here.

Except, I found the monster before I met Bob, the Reptile Guy.
Didn’t I?
Sometimes I have trouble with Before and After.

Also, Bob, the Reptile Guy called and said he was missing some baby mice. He didn’t say anything about missing any reptiles.

“Your time is up, Miles,” Mrs. Christie says.

“No, not yet!” I beg. “Tell me why snakes are reptiles. And tell me what cold-blooded means.”

Miles shakes my paw. He doesn’t answer any of my questions.

He does give me a cracker, though. I LOVE crackers. They’re my favorite food!

Then he leaves and somebody else comes to read to me. A girl. She’s about Connor’s age and she smells like sugar and strawberries ... and sniff ... sniff ... whoa! She also smells like the MONSTER!

Who is this girl and why does she smell like the monster? The smell isn’t real strong. Not as strong as it was out in the hallway a little while ago. But it’s there on her hands, her stomach, her legs, and her feet.

“Okay, Buddy,” Mrs. Christie says, pulling me away from the girl. “Let’s let Maya get settled.”

Maya giggles as she drops to her knees beside me. She hugs a book to her chest.

Mrs. Christie loosens her grip on my leash and I sniff Maya’s shoulders and her neck.

“I think he likes you,” Mrs. Christie tells Maya.

But I’m not sniffing Maya because I like her. I’m sniffing her for clues. Clues to who she is, why she smells like the monster, and where the monster might be.

Unfortunately, I don’t smell any clues.

“Okay, Buddy,” Mrs. Christie says. “Time to lie down.” She points at the floor.

I lie down close to Maya.

Maya gives me a little pat, then shows me her book. “It’s called
Blue-Tongued Skink
,” she says.

Blue-tongued skink?
I can hardly believe my ears. Or my eyes. There, on the cover, is a picture of the monster I saw in this very library!

So a blue-tongued skink
is
a real animal. Cat with No Name didn’t make it up.

Maya opens the book and starts reading. I sit up so I can see the pictures better.

“Did you know you smell like one of those?” I ask her.

Maya doesn’t answer. She just keeps reading.

“I think it’s very interesting that you smell like a blue-tongued skink and you’re reading a book about them,” I tell her.

“Buddy, shh!” Mrs. Christie says, putting her finger to her lips.

But I can’t shh! I have too much to say.

“Did you know there’s one of those guys somewhere in this school?” I ask. “I saw him in the library. I smelled him in the hallway. I don’t know where he is now. Can you help me find him?”

Maya doesn’t understand a word I’m saying.

I sigh. If I can’t talk to Maya, maybe I should listen to her read. Maybe she’ll read something that will give me a clue to finding the blue-tongued skink.

I start to lie down when Maya reads, “A blue-tongued skink can be a very nice pet.”

I sit back up.
It can?
“Do you have a blue-tongued skink at your house?” I ask Maya. “Is that why you smell like one?”

“Buddy!” Mrs. Christie says. She turns to Maya. “I don’t know why he’s barking so much today.”

“Maybe he needs to go outside?” Maya suggests.

“Maybe,” Mrs. Christie says. “Though I just put him out half an hour ago.”

“I DON’T NEED TO GO OUTSIDE!” I yell. “I NEED TO FIGURE SOME THINGS OUT.”

I lie back down so I can think. And so Mrs. Christie stops wondering if I need to go outside.

The reason Maya smells like a blue-tongued skink could be that she has one for a pet. If she does, it’s probably not the same one I found here at school. Her blue-tongued skink is probably at her house.

Unless it escaped and came to our school?

No. If that had happened, Maya would smell worried right now. She doesn’t smell worried; she smells happy.

“Blue-tongued skinks do not lay eggs like other reptiles,” Maya goes on. “They give birth to live young.”

Other
reptiles? So a blue-tongued skink
is
a reptile.

Maya turns a page. “Blue-tongued skinks are cold-blooded,” she reads. “They can’t control their own body temperature. Your tank should have a heater and a basking light.”

While Maya reads, I make a list inside my head of everything I am learning about blue-tongued skinks:

They don’t lay eggs.

They need heat.

They need light.

They need water.

They like to hide.

Their skin comes off in little pieces.

They eat fruit, vegetables, canned dog food (!!!!), and mice.

None of that information helps me figure out where the blue-tongued skink came from, why he’s in our school, or where he might be now.