The Puzzle Master Read Online Free Page B

Can’t believe someone would give this away—this isn’t junk at all! It’s the cream of the crop.”
    “You know the saying,” she said softly, like she was about to fade away into nothingness, “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”
    “You think this is junk?” Marshall asked, certain that she did.
    “No. I’m just surprised that a kid like you likes these things.” Iris looked at the puzzle box. “Most boys your age are overwhelmed with excitement at video games, or cell phones, or some other electronic gadget. But not these.” And she tilted her head toward the box.
    Marshall walked around the table and looked at the box too. “I know. But, there’s something about these that’s so much better than all that stuff.” Marshall didn’t care if she thought he was dumb. But, he looked at her face for a reaction anyway. She just nodded and continued to stare at the box, her eyes glazing into thought.
    Marshall read the box. “The dimensions to this thing are enormous. Four feet by five feet.”
    “Is that unusual too?”
    “I’ll say… it’s way larger than most of ‘ em I’ve done.”
    She nodded as if she understood and then looked at the table.
    “You think we should set it up?” she asked. Her lips were large and poufy like pillows. He wondered what they felt like if he touched them. Then he thought about his parents, and hoped they hadn’t found out he was gone.
    Marshall cocked his head. “How old are you?”
    “I’m eleven. Going into sixth grade.”
    “ So’m I. Well, I mean I just turned twelve. But, I’m going into sixth too.” They both looked at the picture on the box, the golden grasses looking like a blanket of smooth silk. “Sorry about your parents, anyway.”
    She pressed her lips together and stared at the table. “Thanks.”
    “I … can’t imagine what it would be like to not have parents.” He hoped his mom wasn’t having a conniption fit that he wasn’t on his bed. She was probably hyperventilating. Serves her right. And he hoped his father had tears of remorse that he sent him to his room. Serves him right too.
    She slowly opened the lid to the box. “It happened when I was four. So,” she tilted her head, “I’ve been without them for longer than I was with them.”
    He thought about that. How far away and foreign that was from his life. He couldn’t get further away from his parents if he wanted to, at least not permanently. And she couldn’t get any closer.
    Marshall spoke. “Guess it’s not so bad at times—especially when you want to do something they don’t want you to do.” He put his fingers in the box. It looked like a million pieces in there; like all the puzzles he’d ever done were in there.
    “Yeah, except sometimes, you just want someone to tell you what to do or what to follow so you feel like someone else is there to take care of you; to help you.”
    He hadn’t thought about it that way before either. “You’re smart,” he said looking at her with a sideways grin. “You seem smarter than most kids our age.”
    Her ringlets bounced as she sat down. A slight flush creeped into her cheeks, and her lips spread apart into a smile. “Let’s dump it out. That’s why he cleared this table, you know. You should have seen it before you got here.”
    Marshall raised his eyebrows. “Bad?”
    “Bad, as in an old-bachelor-without-any-maternal-instincts , bad. I counted four old pizza boxes … four.”
    Together, they both held the box and flipped it over. The pieces landed on the wooden table like an ocean of water, spilling, thrashing and filling even the remotest places.
    Iris was suddenly on her hands and knees. “Some of them fell on the floor,” she said, sounding far away.
    He found his way next to her, and they picked up pieces of golden grass, the tail of a cow, a barn door, and a mountain cap of snow.
    “I’m not supposed to be here you know,” he said, picking up a picture of a window, glinting with the glare