The Uncanny Express Read online




  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: LaReau, Kara, author. | Hill, Jen, 1975– illustrator.

  Title: The Uncanny Express / Kara LaReau; illustrated by Jen Hill.

  Description: New York : Amulet Books, 2017. | Series: The unintentional adventures of the Bland Sisters; book 2 | Summary: When their Aunt Shallot, aka Magique, Queen of Magic, goes missing on the Uncanny Express, Jaundice, Kale, and the famous detective Hugo Fromage seek to solve the mystery and rescue the magician.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016049054 | ISBN 9781419725685 (hardback) | eISBN 9781683351733

  Subjects: | CYAC: Sisters—Fiction. | Missing persons—Fiction. | Railroad trains—Fiction. | Humorous stories. | Mystery and detective stories. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Mysteries & Detective Stories. | JUVENILE FICTION / Fantasy & Magic. | JUVENILE FICTION / Family / Siblings. Classification: LCC PZ7.L55813 Un 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  Text copyright © 2018 Kara LaReau

  Illustrations copyright © 2018 Jen Hill

  Book design by Pamela Notarantonio

  Published in 2018 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

  Amulet Books and Amulet Paperbacks are registered trademarks of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.

  Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use.

  Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact [email protected] or the address below.

  ABRAMS The Art of Books

  195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007

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  For Pearl, who lived just long enough to see me through this — K.L.

  TO CLEAN YOUR TOILET PROPERLY,

  add ¼ cup chlorine bleach to the bowl

  and let it stand before scrubbing.

  Don’t forget to flush!

  It was a particularly uneventful afternoon in at least one house on the road to Dullsville. To say that it was particularly uneventful is saying a lot, as this house was occupied by none other than the Bland Sisters, Jaundice and Kale.

  You might tell the Bland Sisters apart in several ways.

  First, Jaundice prefers to dress in gray, while Kale favors brown.

  Second, Kale wears her hair parted on the side, while Jaundice parts hers in the middle.

  Third, Jaundice is left-handed while Kale is right-handed.

  Fourth, Kale is seldom seen without her backpack, in which she currently carries Tillie’s Tips, a worn little paperback featuring page after page of housekeeping advice, supplemented with helpful (if slightly dated) black-and-white illustrations. Kale came across this particular title at the Port Innastorm Library several weeks ago and has already renewed it twice. She finds Tillie’s Tips incredibly helpful—and, of course, she finds comfort in knowing that there is someone out there who is more obsessed with cleaning than she is.

  Fifth, Jaundice is known to wear a smock featuring an inordinate number of pockets. She tends to pop items in her pockets at random, providing herself with such treasures as a lone shoelace, two or three paper clips, a handful of clothespins, and a slightly damp kitchen sponge. Jaundice does not always remember to empty her pockets before her smock goes into the wash, much to the continued chagrin of Kale, who does the laundry.

  Other than these few distinctions, the Bland Sisters are just about the same.

  Jaundice and Kale pride themselves on their exacting routine. After breakfast (plain oatmeal with skim milk, a cup of weak, tepid tea on the side) they tend to their business of darning other people’s socks, which takes the better part of the day. Each allows herself one ten-minute break, during which she eats a cheese sandwich on day-old bread (or hardtack biscuits, thanks to a recipe the Bland Sisters recently acquired) and drinks a glass of flat soda while gazing out the window, watching the grass grow.

  The Bland Sisters look forward most to the evenings, when they entertain themselves by thinking of numbers divisible by three then staring at the wallpaper until they fall asleep. Not long ago, they enjoyed the nighttime ritual of reading a dictionary aloud to each other; since that dictionary left their possession, they have decided to broaden their horizons.

  It should be mentioned that Jaundice and Kale have parents. Evidently, they are adventurers of some sort and send the Bland Sisters accounts of their travels whenever they can get to a mailbox. This is fine with Jaundice and Kale, as they much prefer reading about adventures to actually having them. And besides, they are sure their parents will return any day now. Certainly, one can only be away from the comforts and routines of home for so long.

  In any event, not only was nothing happening to the Bland Sisters on this particular day, it seemed as if less than nothing was happening. Their business of darning other people’s socks had been slow that week, so Jaundice and Kale had already finished mending the few they’d been given. The daily oatmeal and weak, tepid tea and cheese sandwiches and flat soda had been consumed, the grass-growing had been observed, and the Bland Sisters were several hours away from bedtime and its accompanying rituals. Nevertheless, they succeeded in passing the time; Jaundice found solace in tying knots in a piece of string (knots had become her new hobby, ever since the Bland Sisters had been tied up by their toes and nearly keelhauled by pirates), and Kale occupied herself with her favorite of all chores: cleaning the bathroom, which she accomplished with her implement of choice, an old toothbrush.

  It was in the middle of scrubbing the inside of the toilet tank that Kale suddenly dropped the aforementioned toothbrush. Normally, this sort of mishap would cause her to cry out, as no one, not even a Bland Sister, wants to have to reach into the murky waters of a toilet tank to retrieve anything. But in this case, Kale was too preoccupied to make any sort of noise.

  “Jaundice?” she finally called out to her sister.

  “Yes, Kale?” Jaundice replied, working on a particularly difficult knot.

  “I’m having a Feeling,” Kale announced.

  Jaundice sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Her sister was always having Feelings. It was very trying. Not so long ago, Kale had a Feeling, and the Bland Sisters were subsequently kidnapped by the aforementioned pirates, forced into menial labor, and stranded (if only temporarily) on a deserted island. Sometimes, Jaundice wished her sister would keep her Feelings to herself.

  “Did you hear me?” Kale asked, emerging from the bathroom.

  “I heard you,” said Jaundice. “So what kind of Feeling are we talking about this time?”

  “I’m having a Feeling something’s about to happen,” said Kale.

  “And what happened after you started having this Feeling?” Jaundice asked.

  Kale thought for a moment. “I dropped my toothbrush into the toilet tank,” she said.

  “A toothbrush in the toilet tank,” said Jaundice. “That is quite a happening.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” said Kale, closing her eyes.

  “And why not?” asked Jaundice.

  “Because I’m still having the Feeling,” said Kale.

  “Is the toothbrush still in the toilet tank?” asked Jaundice.

  Kale nodded.

  “Well, there you go,” said her sister. “You’d bette
r go fish it out.”

  “What a relief,” said Kale, rolling up one sleeve. “I was really starting to think something more serious was going to happen. You know, like last time. With the pirates.”

  “Perish the thought,” said Jaundice, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to go out to the mailbox.”

  “But today’s my turn to get the mail,” said Kale.

  “Given where your hands have been all afternoon,” her sister said, “I think you should sit this one out.”

  “Good idea,” said Kale. Jaundice was almost always right.

  IF YOU’RE EXPECTING GUESTS,

  spend at least a week cleaning

  and preparing. And stay calm.

  No one likes a stressed hostess!

  The Bland Sisters’ mailbox was a metal box nailed to a wooden pole. A red flag on the box would be turned up by the neighborhood postal carrier, Miss Penny Post, if mail had been delivered. Jaundice and Kale had learned this the hard way; recently, they discovered that several years of correspondence had accumulated in the mailbox, as neither of them had been checking it regularly.

  Today, the red flag was up. Jaundice felt a twinge of excitement. She had signed up for a subscription to a magazine called Nuts for Knots and was very much looking forward to her first issue. Unfortunately, upon opening the mailbox, Jaundice beheld an envelope far too small and thin to hold any periodical.

  “We’ve got a letter,” Jaundice announced as she returned to her place on the couch. She ripped open the envelope with one finger, careful not to give herself a paper cut.

  “Is it from our parents?” asked Kale, emerging from the bathroom. Jaundice passed the letter to her sister so she could read it for herself.

  Darling daughters,

  Fabulous news—your Aunt Shallot is coming to town! She’ll be looking for you at the Dullsville depot on Saturday just before noon; we hope you might help her with her bags and with anything else she might need. We’re sure you’ll recognize her immediately, but just in case, she says she’ll be wearing one of her trademark hats, and she now has gray hair and wears glasses.

  Have fun!

  Yours,

  Mom and Dad

  “A visitor? Staying here? What shall we do?” said Kale, wringing her hands.

  “I suppose we’ll have to send for a fresh sundries basket,” Jaundice said. The Bland Sisters received a regular delivery from the Dullsville Grocery, a basket which included bread, cheese, soda, sock-darning thread, and other necessities.

  “But where will she sleep?” asked Kale. “She can’t sleep on the couch. Where will we do our sock darning? And where will we watch the grass grow?”

  “Maybe she should sleep in one of the rooms upstairs,” suggested Jaundice.

  The Bland Sisters rarely ventured into the upstairs of their house, where their parents had slept and worked. To conserve heat, Jaundice and Kale kept the door leading upstairs closed and locked.

  “I don’t think we should allow guests up there,” said Kale. “It’s private.”

  “It’s not like anyone is using it. And besides, it’s just Aunt Shallot. She’s family,” said Jaundice. She reread their parents’ letter, noting the date. “She’s coming on Saturday. What’s today?”

  “Friday,” said Kale, after a moment of thought.

  Jaundice stood up. “That’s tomorrow. Next time I see Miss Penny Post, I’m going to have a word with her. At this rate, I’ll be as old as Aunt Shallot before I see my first issue of Nuts for Knots.”

  “If you need me, I’ll be cleaning. Starting with the bathroom,” Kale announced, retreating to the toilet, which she decided needed rescrubbing.

  WASH YOUR SHEETS ONCE A WEEK—

  we spend one-third of our lives in bed,

  leaving behind sweat, body oils, dead

  skin cells, and drool!

  That afternoon, Jaundice went to the garage to determine what mode of transportation they might use to pick up Aunt Shallot, and Kale continued with her cleaning.

  When their parents left so suddenly on their errand of an unspecified nature so many years ago, they had taken the car. The garage was drafty and empty, with the exception of several stacks of flowerpots, an old sack of fertilizer, a bicycle with a flat tire, a rusty wheelbarrow, and a red wagon.

  Right away, the bicycle was out, since neither Bland Sister knew how to ride one, let alone change a tire. The wheelbarrow seemed a bit clumsy to navigate and a bit inappropriate for picking up a guest from the train station, unless that guest happened to be of the botanical variety. It would have to be the red wagon, Jaundice decided, assessing it warily. Had it ever been used? She couldn’t remember. The wagon was in nearly new shape, though it was not very large. Jaundice hoped that Aunt Shallot was on the smaller side.

  While Jaundice wrangled the transportation, Kale finally finished rescrubbing the bathroom and set to work getting a bed ready. Unfortunately, the upstairs rooms were filled with boxes and trunks of their parents’ things, which the Bland Sisters had packed away long ago. Even though Jaundice and Kale were sure their mother and father would return any day, it was much easier to keep the house clean without so many things lying around.

  Kale managed to locate their parents’ bed, though it was covered with boxes of books and documents and maps. Carefully, she piled all the boxes against the wall, next to the suitcases filled with their parents’ clothes. After she was done, she assessed the bed. The sheets would definitely have to be washed, she decided.

  “Sister?” Jaundice called from downstairs.

  “Up here,” replied Kale, as she heard her sister climbing the stairs.

  “What are you doing?” asked Jaundice.

  At this point, Jaundice had entered the room to find Kale stretched out on their parents’ bed. One of the pillows was over her face.

  “Just seeing if the bed is comfortable enough for Aunt Shallot,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “Also, I’m smelling this pillow.”

  “What does it smell like?” Jaundice asked.

  “Like our mother, I think,” said Kale. She handed the pillow to Jaundice, who stretched out next to her sister on the bed and gave it a whiff.

  “Hmm,” said Jaundice. “You might be right.”

  She took another pillow from behind her head and held it out to Kale. They sniffed it together.

  “Is this what our father smelled like?” Kale wondered.

  Jaundice shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

  “There goes that ache again,” Kale said, clutching her chest.

  “I feel it, too,” said Jaundice.

  For a little while now, both sisters had been experiencing the same sensation, in the area where their hearts were beating. The ache was slightly painful, but also strangely comforting, which made it difficult to diagnose via their copy of the Dullsville Hospital Home Health Handbook.

  “Well, even if we don’t remember much about our parents, at least we know neither of them has an unpleasant odor. That’s something,” said Kale. “So, do you think Aunt Shallot is our mother’s sister or our father’s?”

  “It’s hard to say,” said Jaundice. “What do you remember about her?”

  Kale looked into the middle distance, as she usually did when she was thinking.

  “Nothing,” she said, finally.

  “Me neither,” said Jaundice.

  “They say she’ll be wearing one of her ‘trademark hats,’” Kale said. “Maybe we can look out for someone with unusual headwear.”

  “Good idea,” said Jaundice, yawning.

  Kale yawned back. “I really should start washing these sheets. But this bed feels so . . . cozy.”

  “Maybe we should lie here for another minute or two, just to make sure it’s truly comfortable enough for Aunt Shallot,” Jaundice suggested.

  “It’s the very least we can do as hosts,” Kale said, closing her eyes.

  Within moments, the Bland Sisters were asleep. Kale dreamed that the house was a mess, but all she
had to clean it with was her toilet-cleaning toothbrush. She did what she could to clear away her parents’ maps and books and clothes and souvenirs, but there was just too much stuff.

  Jaundice dreamed that a phone was ringing. She went to the kitchen phone to answer it, but there was no one on the other end. Still, somewhere in the house, the ringing continued.

  Ring-ring! Ring-ring!

  It sounded particularly urgent. And it seemed close, as if it were right under Jaundice’s nose.

  IF YOU SHOULD LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR ANY LENGTH OF TIME,

  make sure to empty your trash before you go.

  No one wants to return home to the smell of garbage!

  Hours later, when the Bland Sisters awoke in their parents’ bed, they were hugging each other.

  “Jaundice,” Kale whispered. “Jaundice.”

  “What?”

  “I think we fell asleep,” Kale said, looking at the clock. “It’s already morning.”

  Jaundice sat up. She reparted her hair in the middle. She looked around. Even though the shades were drawn, the sun was visible behind them. Both sisters squinted.

  “Did you hear a phone ringing last night?” Jaundice asked. “I think I dreamed it.”

  “I didn’t hear anything. I dreamed I was trying to clean the whole house, using only a toothbrush,” said Kale. “Which reminds me, I should really wash these sheets.”

  Jaundice looked at the clock. “Let’s eat first. I’m not myself until after I’ve had my plain oatmeal and weak, tepid tea.”

  Soon, a leisurely breakfast was enjoyed, and Kale was already on her second load of laundry. Jaundice stretched and sighed.

  “That’s better,” she said. “You know, I’ve forgotten my dream altogether.”

  “Me, too. Though I feel like we’re forgetting something else,” Kale said.

  “Well, the house is clean. We’ll have fresh food once the sundry basket arrives. And the red wagon is ready to take to the train station—” Jaundice said, suddenly remembering.