FIVE-FINGER DISCOUNT AT THE MOVIES

 

Hi. Sofia Gutierrez back on the case.

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           Over the past year I have had dozens of adventures and mysteries to solve. However, I could never have done it without the help of Detective Murro. Detective Murro kinds looks like a walrus in rumpled clothes.  He’s got this bushy mustache that I don’t think ever has been trimmed or even combed. It’s all straggly and I wouldn’t be surprised if a bird lived in there. After all, when he eats, some food must get stuck there.

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And when he talks, it sounds like the bark of a walrus.

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           Yet he has always been nice to me. He helps me when I go to him with a case, even though he tells me not to let people know he tells me stuff. There  is one thing he does I really hate. He calls me So. My name is Sofia, not So. I don’t think he would like me to call him Mu – well, especially since that sounds like a cow.

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          There are times when Detective Murro gets mad at me. And when he does – watch out. There was the time I was blowing a bubble with my chewing gum and it accidently flew out of my mouth and landed on Detective Murro’s jacket. He was really mad Especially since I think he only owns one jacket. However, he didn’t stay angry long since that unfortunate accident led to a killer. Though, that is a story for another time.

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         Just so you know, I am thirteen years old and go to East Hanover Junior High School. I live alone with my Mom, Maria Gutierrez, and my dog, Diablito. Diablito is a mixed Choi who originally was called Hutch (the name he had at the shelter). However, after we adopted him and he started wrecking the house, Mom kept yelling “Tu eres un diablito!” And since he earned that name, it stuck. He is now quietly sitting on my bed, though that won’t be for long. He is just resting up for an evening of terror; tearing and shredding anything he can fit into his mouth.

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        My parents were born in Bogota, Colombia and came to the United States before I was born. My father died when I was four but I don’t have any memory of him. My mother showed me pictures and people say I look like him. I am glad about that since it makes me feel he is always with me.

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        My Mom is a nurse at North Shore Hospital here in town. She works long hours most days. There are times I go to bed before she gets home and she is back at work by the time I get up. I know she was home though because she always leaves a note for me in my backpack.

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       She knows I never go anywhere without my backpack, and I go through it every morning. It is kind of worn since it has traveled everyplace with me for the past five years. It used to be bright pink, but now is just a kind of dull pink,  with a picture of the woman, next to my Mom, who I admire most in the world.

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       As to how I got started in the detective business, it all began one day when I was hanging out with my friend, David. He is my age, slightly shorter – though he would never admit it – thin, with wire rimmed glasses. We first met in school when we wound up sitting next to each other due to alphabetical seating by our last names. David’s last name is Greenberg. We started hanging out to study and became really good friends.  There are a lot of things we both liked. Such as movies. That was how I first met Detective Murro.  

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               It was an early spring Saturday morning. David and I were walking through the park…

 

              “What are you always carrying around in that backpack”, David asked me. Like I said, I always have it with me.

              

               “Everything I will need for the day,” I said.

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               “But how do you know what you will need?”

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               I shrugged my shoulders since I thought the answer was obvious.

 

               “Just think about your day and pick the stuff.”

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               “But what if something happens that you never ever thought would happen?”

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               “Like what?”

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               “Like, what if a spaceship came down from outer space?”

 

               David is really into sci-fi and thinks of weird stuff like this all the time. “What would I need if aliens came from outer space?”

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               “I don’t know. A ray gun or something.”

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               “Well, I don’t have a ray gun so I couldn’t pack one,” I said, thinking that would end the silly discussion.

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               “What do you want to do today?” I asked, changing the subject.

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               “Do you want to go to the movies?”

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               “Sure.”

 

               “I have enough money for a ticket. Do you have enough to also buy some snacks?”

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               “No need,” I replied. I opened up my backpack and pulled out a couple of packages of Strawberry Twizzlers and two bottles of water.

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               Impressed, David asked, “How did you know we were going to the movies?”

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               “I didn’t. But why wouldn’t I always make sure I have Twizzlers and water?”

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               “Can’t argue with that,” laughed David. And we turned out of the park and headed for the movie theater.

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               Once we got there we tried to decide what to see. Of course, David wanted to see some superhero flick. To me all of those films were just like wrestling – a bunch of guys in costume, beating each other up. I suggested a romcom which David made a face at.

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               “Two people argue for two hours and then realize they really love each other.” He stuck two fingers in his mouth and made a gagging sound. He can get pretty dramatic.

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               “How about the one with Denzel Washington?”

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               “The one where he is the police detective?”

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               “Yeah, that’s the one.”

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               “Ok, I can go for that.”

 

               After we paid for our tickets and went inside, David said, “Why don’t you grab seats? I’m gonna get some napkins.”

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               “Napkins?”

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               “Yeah, Twizzlers are sticky. I like to eat mine with a napkin.”

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               “Are you telling me that you eat a Twizzler with a napkin wrapped around it?”

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               “Yes. Is it so crazy to want to keep my hands clean?”

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               “I do have wipes in my backpack.”

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               “Wipes are good for afterwards,” said David shaking his head. “And you can’t wrap them around a Twizzler. That’s disgusting.”

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               “I’m not going to argue weird. I’ll grab seats.”

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               “Make sure they are in the middle”, shouted David..

      

               I started to walk away without turning around. “Where else?” I said.

              

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               After David settled into his seat, someone sat in front of us blocking our view.

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              “Do you know what kind of people don’t get enough appreciation?” asked David.

 

“What kind?”

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“Headless people.”

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            “Headless people? Do you know a lot of headless people?” I chuckled at some of the silly things David comes up with.

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“Not a lot.”

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“And they are walking around without heads?”

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“Well, they have heads, but they can take them off when they need to.”

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'And when would that be?”

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“Take the guy in front of us. He could take a seat, take off his head, and put it in the chair next to him.”

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“And he does this so he can take two seats in front of us and not block our view?”

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“You see the advantage too!”

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“Ok, that is good for us. What’s in it for him?”

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            “Are you kidding me? In the middle of the movie he needs to go to the bathroom or ran out of popcorn. He can just get up and go while his head is still watching the movie.”

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             “That is useful. But he won’t be able to see where he is going, or be able to tell the guy at the concession stand what he wants.”

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David was thoughtful for a minute and then said, “Sign language.”

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            While that didn’t answer the issue of not being able to see, the previews started. And if there is one thing we hate is people talking during the trailers.

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           As a preview played for an upcoming Sandra Bullock film, David leaned over and whispered, “Did you know the director of this film also directed the last James Bond film.”

 

               I  leaned back in and said “Did you know I didn’t care?”

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               “Yup, that I knew,” and we giggled.

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               Ok, I know I said we don’t like people talking. What I meant was we don’t like when other people talk. And when we talk we are offering commentary on the trailers – it shows respect for the previews and that is allowed in our self-made rule book of manners.

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               I looked over at David and in one hand he had his napkin wrapped Twizzler. You know, I thought it would look odd, but with his nerdish haircut and glasses, it would look odd if he ate it any other way.

                

               Suddenly, three men stood in front of us.

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I didn’t know who two of them were, but I recognized the third one as the guy who worked at the concession stand. They looked mad. I assumed it was because we were eating snacks we didn’t buy there.

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               “Is this the one”, asked the largest of the three men,

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               “Yes,” replied the concession man.

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               “You two need to come to my office,” demanded the third.

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               The third man turned out to the manager of the theater. His office was little more than a room with a desk and the five of us were crowded inside. David and I were told to sit in the two chairs in front of the desk. The manager sat behind it while the other two stood. The large man pulled out a police shield and showed it to us. It was Detective Murro.

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               “I am sure you know why you are here,” he stated.

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               I told them, “Yes, it was my fault. I brought the Twizzlers and the water in.”

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               The three men looked at each other. “Do you know what she is talking about?” asked Detective Murro. I couldn’t help but noticed the hairs on his bushy mustache waved when he talked.

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               The manager shook his head. “We are not interested in your snacks. We want to hear what you did with the money.”

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               “What money?” asked David. He sounded as confused as I felt.

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               “The money you stole from the register,” said the concession man standing in the corner.

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               “We would NEVER steal any money,” I shouted. How dare he accuse us like that.

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               “Not you,” said the detective, moving a pointed finger between me and David. Then his finger settled on David “YOU,” he snapped.

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               “I didn’t steal any money,” announced David.

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               “Marty over here, he says differently,” replied the detective, his head giving a nod to the concession guy.

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               “Tell them what you saw,” said the manager.

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               Marty moved closer. “Well, the kid here…”

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               “His name is David,” I told him.

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               “Ok, well, David here was wandering around the concession stand. I asked him what he wanted and he said ‘nothing’. I started helping some other kids and accidently left the cash drawer open. I saw this k…David reach over the counter. When I looked, I saw most of the bills in the drawer were gone.”

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               “What do you have to say for yourself?” Murro barked at David.

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               “I didn’t take any money. I reached over to get some napkins.” My friend looked really scared. I was scared for him.  However, that story didn’t make sense to me.

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               “I can vouch for him. He was getting napkins to wrap around his Twizzler.” I could see by the looks on everyone’s face that was not a story going over well. A different tactic was needed.

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    “You said you saw him reach over the counter and take the money?” I asked Marty.

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               “That’s right,” declared Marty defiantly.

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               I looked David up and down, running some quick calculations in my head. If my math was close, which if you saw my grades last semester you might seriously doubt. But if I was right, I could prove David didn’t do it! I started to walk out.

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   “Where do you think you are going?” asked Detective Murro.

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               “I am going to prove David didn’t do anything. Follow me.” And with that I marched out the door, not even looking to see if anyone was following me. Detective Murro looked at the others who were frozen in place. “Well, let’s go. Don’t just stand there.”

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