6. The Case of the Missing Pig

Chapter 6 The Case of the Missing Pig That night, after I brushed my teeth and put on my pajamas, I went down to the kitchen. I grabbed my backpack off the counter. I reached inside to pull out Hamilton. But there was an empty space where Hamilton was supposed to be. WHERE WAS HAMILTON???? I yelled. "HE'S GONE! HAMILTON IS GONE!!!" Mom and Dad ran in. "Roscoe," Mom said, "what's wrong, honey?"

"HAMILTON IS MISSING I KNOW HE WAS IN HERE AND NOW HE IS GONE WHERE COULD HE BE???!!!" I screamed. "HAMILTON IS LOST!!!!" I am not always calm in a crisis. Not when it's about my pig. "Can you think where you might have left him?" Mom asked. "If I knew where I'd left him, then he wouldn't be lost!" I cried. "Did you take Hamilton out for show-and-tell?" Dad asked. "No way," I said. "Max said I would humiliate him if people knew I brought Hamilton to school." "So nobody saw you with the pig?" Max asked. "Well," I said, "Wyatt saw me talking to him." "I didn't know you spoke Pig," Max said.

I didn't answer. On account of I was ignoring Max. "Wyatt is a real pain," I reminded Dad. "Want me to talk to him?" Max said. "I could threaten to lock him in the boys' room." "Max!" Mom said. "Don't even think such a thing!" "A minute ago you were teasing Roscoe," said Dad. "And now you're trying to protect him?" Max made his shoulders go up and down. "It's my job, Dad. I'm his big brother." We looked everywhere for Hamilton. Under the couch. In the laundry room. In the toy chest. In the garage. I even checked the bathtub. Everybody tried to find Hamilton. Even our dog, Goofy.

He could tell we were looking for something. So he brought us a slobbery tennis ball. A dirty sock. And a Lincoln Log he'd chewed on. But no Hamilton. Finally, Mom said, "I'm afraid we have to call it quits for tonight. Hamilton will show up, honey. He's just a very good hider." We headed upstairs. I climbed into bed. "My bed feels funny without Hamilton," I said. Mom tucked the covers around me. "We'll find him, sweetheart," she said. "But for tonight, what could we do to make it easier to sleep?" I stared at the ceiling. I have a mobile hanging there. It glows in the dark. It's all the planets. Except Pluto. Which Goofy ate.

I guess that's okay. Since the science guys decided Pluto's not really a planet. "There's nothing we can do," I said. "I can't sleep without Hamilton. Period. End of story. No more discussion." Mom says that a lot. You can pick up some really useful sayings from adults. Hazel came into my room.

She was wearing her Pretty Prancing Pony pajamas. With footies. "Sweetie, you're supposed to be asleep," Mom said. "I brought something for Roscoe," Hazel said. She held up one of her Barbie dolls. The doll was wearing an astronaut helmet. And a white doctor coat. And purple sparkle high heels. "Her name is Janelle," Hazel said. She lay Janelle on my pillow. It felt all wrong to see that sparkly astronaut doctor lying on Hamilton's favorite spot. "You can borrow her," said Hazel. "Since you losted Hamilton."