Socks

Chapter 2

"Hey, where are my socks?" Marcy exclaims, waking me and Charlotte up.

"What'd you wake us up for? Socks aren't exactly an emergency, you know," Charlotte says grumpily, propping herself up on her elbow.

"It's fine, you can borrow some of mine," I say. "I'm wearing the ones with polka dots, though."

"Okay, thanks," Marcy says. "Charlotte, don't you need some, too? You were out of them yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I have no clue where they went, though. I brought a ton of them, including my favorite pair with hamburgers on them!"

I shrug, tossing them both pairs of socks. "Well, I can assure you that I didn't steal them. I have enough socks to last me a lifetime."

"But somebody has to have taken them!" Charlotte insists.

"I bet Salt and Pepper did! Remember how they ransacked our suitcases yesterday?" Marcy says brightly, convinced she'd solved the mystery.

"But remember how the hair was gray? It wasn't them," I remind her.

"Well, then I don't know! You're supposed to be the Nancy Drew expert here!" she shoots back.

I don't reply, not wanting to argue. We all get ready for school and board the school bus silently.

The entire rest of the day, Charlotte and Marcy are cranky and quiet. I'm also quiet, but I'm trying to think of possible sock-stealing suspects. They're probably just holding a grudge against me for disagreeing about Salt and Pepper being the culprits. But I'd recognize my own dogs' hair color.

When we get back home from school, we get started on our homework right away, which is unusual - especially for Marcy and Charlotte, who are some of the worst procrastinators I know. Once we finish, I share my ideas of possible suspects.

"I don't think it was Salt and Pepper, so I've been trying to think of other people or animals that might've done it. I don't think it was a person, because of all the things you could steal, why would you take socks? Animals like things to chew on or make their nests out of and stuff like that. But the only gray animals around here I know of are squirrels."

"How could a squirrel get into the house?" Marcy protests.

"That's what I'm saying, it wasn't a squirrel!" I say, already getting irritated. "At least, I don't think it was. A squirrel wouldn't be strong enough to knock over my lamp, your suitcases or my blankets and pillows. It had to be a bigger animal."

"Like a dog," Charlotte offers. I shoot her a look.

"Like a dog, or a cat, raccoon or something like that. But nobody around here has a pet cat, and there are lots of busy roads nearby that make it too dangerous for raccoons to get here from the woods."

"Let's watch Animal Planet!" Marcy says enthusiastically. "That could help us think of possible suspects."

Charlotte is completely onboard with this idea, so I give in, and we end up watching Animal Planet until dinnertime. But I still have no idea what stole our socks.

The next morning we are much chattier while getting ready. It's Friday, so instead of pulling on our uniforms, we dress in jeans and t-shirts. My dad had finally fixed my bike's flat tire, and repaired two other old bikes, so we ride them to the bus stop at the end of our long and winding street. We whizz past a telephone pole covered in lost pet posters and advertisements, racing each other. I end up winning, and we talk and laugh loudly the whole bus ride to school.

Charlotte and Marcy are very cheerful, since we don't get any homework, and during gym we get to play dodgeball, boys against girls - the girls win. So when we get home and watch a movie while having pizza for dinner, I can't help but be in a good mood.

But it evaporates when I peer in my sock drawer the next morning to find it completely empty.

After breakfast we take a volleyball with us to the park to practice for our game on Monday. When we walk past the telephone pole with posters plastered all over it, Charlotte stops to look at them, sighing sadly.

"Hey look, this person's offering fifty bucks for the return of their cat!" Marcy says excitedly. "I could use some extra cash..."

"The first step, though, is to actually find the cat," I tell her. I take a closer look at the poster Marcy is talking about. There's a picture of a smoky-colored tabby cat with piercing green eyes. It looks just like a cat I used to have when I was a little kid.

After several long minutes, we manage to drag a close-to-tears Charlotte away from the pole. Once we arrive at the park, we practice our overhand serves.

But I'm struggling to focus on my form. The sock mystery keeps hanging over my head, nagging me. I toss the volleyball up but hit it with the wrong part of my hand. It goes sailing into the net. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"Let's call it a day," Charlotte suggests, scooping the ball up from the sand.

When we get home, I sit on the couch deep in thought while Charlotte and Marcy look for something good to watch on TV.

I go into the laundry room to feed Salt and Pepper, and then notice how dirty their dog bed is, so I decide to clean it up a bit. But when I pick it up, I notice something in the corner and grab it.

It's a neon striped sock.