1. The Flying Fortunatos

Calendar Mysteries August Acrobat by Ron Roy

Chapter 1 The Flying Fortunatos Bradley Pinto pushed open the door of the Shangri-la Hotel. Inside, the lobby was quiet and cool. Comfortable furniture was placed around a big red carpet. A ceiling fan hummed, blowing air through the room. Behind the hotel counter stood Mr. Linkletter. He calmly watched as Bradley walked toward him. "Hi, Mr. Linkletter," Bradley said. He flashed his best smile.

Everyone in Green Lawn liked Mr. Linkletter, even though he almost never smiled. His mustache did wrinkle a little now and then, however. Bradley noticed that the mustache was wrinkling now. That was almost a smile! "Good morning, young Mr. Pinto," Mr. Linkletter said. "Are you Bradley or Brian?" "I'm Bradley," Bradley said. "How does your family tell you two apart?" Bradley grinned. "Our freckles are different," he said. Mr. Linkletter blinked once, then nodded. He shoved the hotel register book in front of Bradley. "Checking in?" he asked. "How long will you be staying?" Bradley laughed. "You're joking with me, right?" "I never joke," Mr. Linkletter said. But the mustache moved upward, and his kind eyes gleamed. "Why are you here, Mr. Bradley?" Bradley pulled a pile of tickets from his pocket. They were held together with a rubber band. He removed one ticket and showed it to Mr.

Linkletter. "Would you like to buy a ticket?" he asked. "They're two dollars each." Mr. Linkletter took the ticket and read what was printed on the blue paper. "Who are the Flying Fortunatos?" he asked. "It's like a circus," Bradley explained. "They're acrobats… I think. Anyway, they're coming to town Monday. Brian, Nate, Lucy, and I are selling tickets!" Mr. Linkletter's eyebrows moved up toward his hair, like two jumping caterpillars. "Why?" he asked Bradley. "Why what?" Bradley asked right back. "Why are you selling tickets for the Flying Fortunatos?" "Oh. See, Brian read in one of his comics that the circus was looking for kids to sell tickets, so he signed us up for one hundred," Bradley explained. He held up his stack. "We each have to sell twenty-five," he added. "If we sell them all, we get in free! Plus we get free popcorn and hot dogs. I really like hot dogs!"

Mr. Linkletter gazed down at Bradley for a moment. Finally, the mustache twitched. "I'll take four," Mr. Linkletter said, reaching for his wallet. "My three nephews will be my guests." "Awesome, thank you!" Bradley shouted. He pulled three more tickets out and slid them toward Mr. Linkletter. Mr. Linkletter handed Bradley eight crisp dollar bills. "You're very welcome," he said, slipping the tickets into his suit jacket pocket. "Where will you go next?" Bradley glanced out the window. "The town hall, I guess," he said. "I have this whole section of town." "The town hall is closed on Saturday," Mr. Linkletter said. He leaned over the counter. "Try the senior center. I have a feeling those folks would like to see flying acrobats." His mustache wrinkled. "And they really like hot dogs, too." "Thanks again, Mr. Linkletter," Bradley said. He took his twenty-one tickets and flew out the door.