Freddie Ramos Stomps the Snow (6 page)

Maria had a huge pink purse that used to belong to her mother.

“I’ll let you borrow it on one condition,” she said.

That condition meant I had to let her be a part of my plan.

“Policemen like a second witness,” she said. “Don’t you watch TV?”

Maria had a point.

“And purses are usually carried by girls,” she added.

I hadn’t thought about that. “Okay,” I told Maria. “You can be my partner.”

“Great!” she said. “Let’s get Gio.” “Why do we need Gio?”

“I promised Mama I’d pick him up at the sledding hill,” Maria answered.

A few minutes later, we were listening to Gio cry.

“I don’t want to stop sledding!” His face was so red from the cold that he looked like a cherry.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked. “There’s great food in the gym.”

“They have guacamole,” Maria said.

Gio stopped crying and turned his cherry face up. “Let’s go!”

Some people can be bought with guacamole. Gio is one of them.

When we got to the gym, everyone was eating off green plates and wiping their mouths with green napkins. I saw a big green cake in the shape of a four-leaf clover on the table. It had a rainbow with a pot of gold on it.

“That looks like one lucky cake,” I said. “Where did it come from?” “A nice man at the supermarket,” Mom said. “He saw the news story on the TV and thought we might like to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day a little early.”

“Why not?” I said, picking up a green plate.

Superheroes are always on the job, but they still need to eat. Maria followed me to the table with the giant pink purse dangling off her arm. Gio was right behind her.

“Guacamole!” Gio smiled. “My favorite!”

As he piled up his plate, Erika came over and cut into line.

“Hey!” she said. “Leave some for other people.”

This was the third time in two days Erika had bothered Gio. With Gio, it’s three strikes and you’re out. He put his arms around the guacamole bowl.

“You can’t have any,” he shouted. “You’re a bully!”

“Gio,” Maria warned. “That might not be a good idea.”

It all happened faster than Zapato Power. Gio took the guacamole and dashed out the gym door. Erika tried to stop him. Maria went to save him. They all grabbed at the bowl. Before I could blink, guacamole was all over Erika, Gio, and Maria.

“Yuck!” Erika said, wiping green stuff off her face.

“Double yuck!” Maria said, dropping her pink purse in the hallway. It was covered in guacamole too.

We all ran to grab green napkins.

By the time we came back, the guacamole-covered purse was gone!

“Call the police!” Maria cried, wiping mushy stuff off her shirt. Some grown-ups took out their cell phones as Mr. Vaslov rushed over to us.

“What happened?” he asked, staring at Erika’s face. She had guacamole on her eyebrows.

“Get me more napkins!” she demanded.

Gio ran away to hug his mother.

I pressed the button on my wristband. It was time to get out of there.

The Serial School Purse Snatcher had a head start. No hay problema. There was a trail of green guacamole in the snow.

I followed the tiny blobs of green around the corner. But that’s where the trail ended.

“Did you see where he went?” Mr. Vaslov asked, catching up with me.

I shook my head. “He just disappeared.”

“Put on your snowshoes, Freddie,” Mr. Vaslov said. “They might help us.” With my Zapato Power snowshoes,

I was ready to chase the purse snatcher through the snow. But I had to find him first.

“Look closely for guacamole.” Mr. Vaslov peered down at the white ground.

We walked down the block toward the bus stop. That’s where we saw another spot of green.

“Do you think the thief got away on the bus?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Let’s keep looking.”

Behind the bus stop was a park.

We saw some footprints going around the trunk of a big tree.

“What’s that?” I pointed at a mound of snow.

“We’ll find out!” Mr. Vaslov said.

When we got there, we saw someone had made a snow cave, just like Gio had on the sledding hill. But instead of kids playing inside, there were stolen purses. We saw a yellow purse, a pink one, and a third one that I figured belonged to Erika’s grandmother.

“The thief’s hideout!” Mr. Vaslov whistled. But where was the thief? I turned around to see a tall, thin man in a blue coat running toward the bus stop. And the bus was coming down the street!

I ran around him in circles, smoke flying everywhere. Just like a snowplow, I pushed enough snow to lock him into a snow jail.

“Hey! Where did this come from!?” the man shouted.

Mr. Vaslov ran up. “That’s our thief all right. He has guacamole on his jacket.”

We heard sirens and saw a police car pull up in front of the school. “Go tell the officers where we are,” Mr. Vaslov said. “Tell them to bring shovels.”

“Sure thing!” I said, pressing the button on my wristband.