P.J. Petersen > Quotes

“you think youseeme but you dont”
― P.J. Petersen

“While the phone was handy, I also called Wendy and got her mother again. She said that Wendy had a sore throat and couldn’t talk.
I wasn’t about to quit that easily. “Can she listen?” I asked. “I’ll do the talking, and she can tap once for yes and twice for no.” Mrs. Westfall laughed. “I’m serious. Can she do that?”
“Only for a minute. I’ll get her.”
The next thing I heard was a whispered, “Hi.”
“No talking,” Mrs. Westfall called out.
“Hi, Wendy. Did your mom tell you the code? One tap for yes, two for no, three if you’re being held prisoner against your will.” Three quick taps from her. “That’s what I figured. Well, you haven’t missed much at school. Same old stuff. Somebody tried to assassinate Mr. Crowell, but he was wearing a bulletproof vest. And then when the cops came, they found marijuana growing in the teacher’s lounge. But all the evidence was destroyed in the fire. I guess you heard that the whole junior class was trapped in the auditorium and got wiped out. All except for Delbert Markusson. He was out in the parking lot, sneaking a smoke. So Delbert’s now junior class president. He’s also vice-president and secretary. He says the junior prom may be canceled, or he may have it over at his house—if he can find a date.”
“Wind it up,” Mrs. Westfall said.
“Are you going to be back tomorrow?” Two taps. “How about Monday?” One loud tap. “I’m going to San Francisco this weekend. Shall I send you a postcard?” Tap. “I’ll see you on Monday.” She tapped, then hung up.
“Are you in love with Eddie Carter?” I said into the dead phone. I gave the receiver a loud slap.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Our driveway seemed darker than usual. I knew it was silly, but I kept looking around as I walked. Then something rustled in the trees overhead. That was enough for me. I took off running and didn’t stop until I made it to the bottom of the boat ramp.
Conditions at the marina weren’t exactly ideal for a romantic conversation. The wind was howling, and the docks groaned as they rose and fell. Even so, it was better than trying to talk with Julie around.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“That night, though, Mom was getting things ready for a party at the restaurant, so I had to bum a ride with Jack and Julie. Jack said they didn’t need a chaperon, but it was just talk. He always helped me when it mattered.
While we were waiting for Julie, I asked him about the one detail that was bothering me. “I’m supposed to meet her there,” I said. “Do I meet her inside the gym or outside?”
“Do you have a date or not?”
“More or less.”
Jack grinned and shook his head.
“Well, it’s not that simple,” I told him. “She can’t go out on dates, so she’s coming with her parents, and I’m supposed to meet her.”
Jack broke out laughing. “You’re singing the freshman blues again, Eddie. Everything ends up half-baked.”
“So where do I meet her on a half-baked date?”
“Inside,” he said. “That way you won’t have to pay for her ticket.”
“I don’t want to look like a cheapskate.”
“Why hide the truth? Besides, her parents are bringing her, right? You don’t want to meet her father, do you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, he’ll just shake your hand and give you a dirty look. That’s what freshman girls’ fathers always do.”
“Really?”
“So save the hassle and the money. Wait inside.”
I ended up waiting right inside the door. When Wendy and her father came in, she was careful to keep things looking casual. She pretended not to notice me at first, then said, “Oh, hi, Eddie,” and introduced me to her father as a boy in her algebra class. He shook my hand and gave me a dirty look.
For a minute I thought the three of us would end up sitting together, but her father decided not to join us in the student rooting section. Wendy and I found an empty bench in the bleachers and were alone for twenty or thirty seconds before two of her friends came along, then three of mine. Then some friends of theirs. And finally Wayne Parks squeezed into a spot on the bench behind us. All through the game he kept leaning forward and making comments like “Where’s the ref keep his Seeing Eye dog during the game?”
Even if Wendy and I hadn’t had an audience, we couldn’t have done much talking. During every time-out the Los Cedros Spirit Band, sitting three rows behind us, blasted us off the benches with fight songs.
To top things off, Wendy’s father sat across the aisle and stared at us all night. And the Los Cedros Panthers blew a six-point lead in the final minute and lost the game at the buzzer.
Before Wendy and I had our coats on, her father showed up beside us, mumbled, “Nice to meet you, Willy,” and led her away.
The night could have been worse, I guess. I didn’t break an ankle or choke on my popcorn or rip my pants. But I had a hard time being thankful for those small favors.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“When Julie and I went back outside, the pickup was gone. We stood on the curb and waited. Everybody who came past looked like a criminal. I tried to look casual while thoughts about kidnappers and slashers flashed through my mind.
When I spotted Jack’s truck, I shouted, “Here he comes!”
“You really are a hick,” Julie said, but she looked relieved too.
“I had to move,” Jack told us. “A bus was coming. You weren’t worried, were you?”
“Not me,” I said. “I like being surrounded by killers and dope fiends.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Julie had the map and was trying to navigate, but she didn’t know about one-way streets. After a half hour of detours and dead ends, we finally turned onto Willner.
“Not exactly the high-rent district,” Jack said.
Every block had several boarded-up buildings. All the fences and half the walls had been spray-painted with slogans, some in foreign languages.
“I wish I had a gun,” I said.
Jack laughed. “Relax, Eddie. You sound like a hick from the sticks.”
“I am a hick from the sticks. I just hope we don’t get mugged.”
He laughed again. “Who’d mug you? You don’t have anything worth stealing.”
“I’m putting my money in my shoe all the same.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“If Jack had a rough night, he didn’t show it. He was playing a rock tape and tapping his fingers on the dashboard. When Julie rushed down the steps and climbed into the truck, he had a poem ready for her:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes . . .

Julie laughed as she pulled out her comb and tried to fix her windblown hair. “Thanks, Jack. It’s not very accurate, but I appreciate the thought.”
“You memorized that?” I asked him.
“I tried to, but I gave it up.” He showed me the slip of paper in his hand, then put the truck in gear. “I kept forgetting the middle part.”
Julie reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s sweet.”
Jack grinned. “Hey, you’ve got to work on your aim. You missed my lips by three inches.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“I turned the dial back to sixteen, lifted the handle, and jerked the locker door open. Wendy let out an “Oh” and reached for the roses. Then she spun around and planted a kiss on me—right there in front of Jerry Bridges and Mr. Crowell and everybody.
“Crimeny,” Jerry said, and walked off.
Mr. Crowell grinned and looked away.
I just stood there with a stupid smile on my face, too far gone even to say, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Excuse me, Mr. Westfall,” I called out. He gave me the kind of look most people save for things they find squashed in the road. “Would you mind if I rode my bicycle over to your house on Sunday afternoon?”
That caught him off guard. For a minute he didn’t say anything. Then he began with “Well, I’m not sure what—”
“I won’t be any trouble,” I said. “I’m kind of funny-looking, but I’m a pretty good guy. You can ask my mother.”
Mr. Westfall actually laughed. “Yeah. Come on over.”
The night went downhill fast from there. Los Cedros lost by forty points, Julie cried most of the way home, and Jack didn’t forget to stop at the gas station.
But I still went to bed with a smile on my face.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Hey, Eddie, do me a favor,” Pooch said, grabbing a 3 Musketeers bar off the shelf. “Take this up to Opal for me, will you? Tell her I said it was sweets for the sweet.” He turned back to Woody. “You don’t mind if I send your momma a little present, do you?”
“I don’t care what you do,” Woody said, heading for the door.
“Don’t worry, Woodrow. If Opal and I get married, I’ll be a good stepdaddy to you. I’ll take you fishing and play baseball with you.” He hooted when Woody slammed the door.
“Why don’t you take this candy up there yourself?” I asked.
“Don’t tell me how to handle women, Eddie, my boy. Besides. You owe me one. Didn’t I go out in the pouring rain yesterday and get you some clothes? Didn’t I help you out when you were sitting here shivering like a poodle with the mange?”
“I’ll do it.” I headed out the door before he got started again.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Barbara was always bringing people things like alfalfa tablets or yeast cakes. My mother always thanked her, and the stuff disappeared. Probably down the toilet, but Mom would never admit it.
“How’s your complexion doing these days, Eddie?”
I happened to have three zits that day—I had counted. But that wasn’t information I cared to make public. “It’s okay.”
“If you start having trouble, let me know. I have some wonderful stuff that’ll clear up your face in no time.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Did you see the TV my boy Franklin sent me for Christmas? He’s working in the oil fields in Arabia, you know.”
“Yeah.” I had seen that TV a half dozen times in the past month, and I had almost memorized Franklin’s life story. Whenever Opal got a telegram from him, we heard about it for weeks.
“I was just glad to get a TV that worked,” Opal went on. “Our old one was shot. I never thought much about remote control. Always figured that anybody who was too lazy to get up and change the channel might just as well roll over and die. But you get used to it.”
“I wish we had a remote control,” I said.
“You don’t need it,” she snapped. “Young kid like you, it won’t hurt you to get up. You shouldn’t be watching television anyway. There’s so much dirt on, I’m surprised your mom lets you near the set. I saw something today that left me sitting here with my mouth open. I wouldn’t dare tell you about it.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“We can always go back,” Jack said. “But there are too many people around the lake in the summertime. You wouldn’t dare dump a body then.”
“Right,” I said. “I dump all my bodies in the fall.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“When Julie got home that afternoon, I got her aside and told her about the coins. “Well,” she said, “I knew it had to be something like that. I mean, let’s be serious.”
But she looked awfully relieved.
A few minutes later she came into my room and wanted to hear every last detail. “Wow,” she said, “I feel better. I mean, I know it was dumb, but once you start thinking about that kind of thing, everything gets crazy. I was actually watching Mom, expecting maybe to see something that might give her away. I mean, how stupid is that?”
“I was just as bad,” I told her.
“Listen, Eddie, next time you two drag something dirty out of the lake, throw it back. Fast.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“After dinner I ran down to the docks and got soaked again. My big payoff for risking pneumonia was a one-minute conversation with Wendy’s mother, who told me that Wendy was asleep and that she already had all her assignments. She didn’t tell me that it was a pain and a bother to have me call, but she might as well have.
I put in another rough night.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Somebody had scribbled on the walls of the stairwell with a black crayon. The scribbler had a dirty mind but wasn’t much of a speller.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Did you keep the boys out of trouble, Julie?” Dad asked.
“What can you do with Eddie? He was chasing girls all over the place. He’s not even fussy. Anybody between ten and twenty-five. He kept sliding up next to them and talking about his place on the lake.”
“Public relations,” I said.
Dad grinned at me. “Did you go straight to the boat show, or did you stop somewhere else?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, but Julie sailed right in. “Are you kidding? That would be too easy. We had to drive around a little, get lost a few times, drive the wrong way up one-way streets.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“He tossed me the towel. “Carry that over to my boat. I’ll hop in here and swim back.”
“You’re nuts,” I said.
“Just tough, that’s all.” He stepped between two boats and dived into the water. He surfaced and let out a yelp. “Hoo-eee. That’ll get you hopping.” Then he began a slow crawl in the direction of his houseboat.
I walked along the dock, carrying the towel. I felt like a dope. Pooch was the biggest gossip in the country. Even a crummy detective should have been able to learn something from him. But not me.
When he scrambled up the ladder into his boat, I tossed him the towel. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Eddie boy.”
“I can do without pneumonia.”
“Bunch of sissies around here,” he yelled.
I headed back to the telephone. The line stayed busy until I gave up, and then I got spooked on the way back and ended up running home.
And I couldn’t do the algebra problems either.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“He slowly brought his hand out of his jacket. He was holding a long-barreled pistol.
“Wait a minute!” Jack yelled.

Woody looked down at the pistol. “I didn’t know what to expect when I saw that note. Figured I better not take any chances.”
“I’m glad we got everything straightened out,” Jack said.
I shifted around and got my feet under me. When Woody started to raise the pistol, I figured the time for talking was over. I took off running along the shoreline.
Behind me the pistol went off. I veered away from the lake and dashed uphill toward the trees, leaping over rocks and half-buried driftwood.
“Eddie!” Jack yelled.
I kept running.
“Eddie, you idiot!”
I glanced back over my shoulder. Jack and Woody were still standing beside the lake.
“Get back down here,” Jack yelled. “He was just signaling.”
I came down a lot more slowly than I went up.
“I wish I had a movie of that,” Jack said. “You took off like you were shot out of a cannon.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I knew I’d be hearing about that one for a long time.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Don’t worry,” Julie said. “I’ll go along and keep them out of trouble.”
“Nobody invited you,” I told her.
She gave me that cutesy look of hers that makes me want to vomit. “Not yet. But somebody might if I asked nicely.”
“Why don’t you stick to your own business?” I said.
Dad flipped on the TV and looked back at me. “What’s the matter? You think Julie’d cramp your style?”
What could I say?
“I’m going to run over and ask Jack right now,” Julie said. “I’d love to go to the boat show.”
“Don’t feel bad about horning in where you’re not wanted,” I called out.
She stopped in the doorway and looked back at me. “One question, Eddie. If Jack had his choice of somebody to take to San Francisco, which one of us do you think he’d take?”
“You make me sick.”
“You’d better be nice to me,” she said. “Otherwise we may not let you go along with us.”
“Well,” I said to Mom once Julie was gone, “can I go?”
“Let’s see what happens.”
“You mean you’re waiting for Julie?”
“You bet,” Dad said from the next room. “She’ll keep you in line.”
“When did I ever get out of line?”
Dad began to count on his fingers. “Let’s see. There was the time you sneaked out the ski boat to impress that girl. And the time you hitchhiked into Los Cedros without telling anybody. And the time—”
“I’m sorry I asked,” I said.
A few minutes later Julie came strolling back into the kitchen. “Guess what.”
I borrowed a tactic from Ricky Batt and stuck out my tongue.
“Jack says he’d be glad to have me come along.”
“Rotten, rotten, rotten,” I said.
Mom smiled. “I’m sure you’ll all have a good time.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Julie,” I whispered, “I just found out something. Jack’s all wrong. His mother’s not involved.”
“Big deal,” Julie said. “I already knew that. Jack’s being utterly ridiculous.” She shoved a pile of pictures toward me. “And I don’t appreciate your running off and leaving me to do the dirty work.”
Columbo didn’t have a sister—I’m sure of that.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“I leaned forward and shouted, “You know Wayne Parks?”
“Sort of. He’s a dip.”
“I found out that he likes Wendy. He goes over to her house all the time.”
“Wake up, Eddie. If you find a girl that nobody likes, there’s probably a reason for it.”
“Yeah, but Wayne’s a junior with a car.”
“And you’re a freshman with a bicycle. What’s the big deal?”
“Forget it.”
He smacked my knee. “No reason to worry about a little competition, Eddie. Just because he’s got a nice car and he’s older and smarter and better-looking—”
“You’re a real buddy,” I said.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“By the five o’clock closing time I had microfilm elbow from turning the crank and a headache from looking at all those spinning words. We had made it through May without seeing the name Bartolozzi, and I had read about enough robberies to convince me never to go back to San Francisco.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“We stopped by the blackboard and saw that the fishing had been upgraded to “good.” Woody had recommended minnows for bait and chalked in “Browns around Pepperwood Island.”
“Let’s add a note,” Jack said. “Skeletons by Prentice Point.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“Those little brats threw rocks at my truck,” he said. “Then they just stood there with their tongues out, waiting for me to chase them.”
“Did you catch ’em?”
“No way.” Jack grinned. “Little devils have a crawl hole under the restaurant. You should have heard them giggle.”
Mom opened the door and said, “She’s coming.”
I glanced at my watch. “No hurry. We can still make second period.”
“Mrs. Carter,” Jack said, “the monsters have figured out how to get underneath the restaurant. Maybe you’d better get them out of there before they start disconnecting the plumbing.”
“Maybe we could board up the hole,” I said. “With them inside.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues

“At seven-ten we sat down to a breakfast of twelve-grain cereal, a kind of oatmeal glop that Barbara had given my mother. The stuff wasn’t too bad once you quit expecting it to have any taste.”
― P.J. Petersen, The Freshman Detective Blues