become a regular thing.” Next door, Oliver was also eyeing the truck from the Glubs’ front steps. Adélaïde was with him, watching plumes of smoke dance around it.
“Isn’t the mist pretty?” she said.
“That’s exhaust,” Oliver replied.
Archer and his grandparents climbed down the front steps. Oliver and Adélaïde joined them at the truck. Cornelius leaned out the window to greet them and spotted Adélaïde.
“The crocodile girl!”
Adélaïde curtsied.
“She’s actually just the lamppost girl,” Oliver clarified.
“Whatever you are, it’s my pleasure to be your transport this evening.”
The inside of the truck was every bit as a filthy as the outside.
“It smells like stale coffee and grease,” Oliver noted, climbing into the backseat alongside Archer and Adélaïde.
Grandma and Grandpa Helmsley joined Cornelius up front. Once their doors were shut, Cornelius slammed his foot on the gas, and they barreled off down the snowbound streets. Archer’s grandparents didn’t seem to notice the speed. But Archer, Oliver, and Adélaïde scrambled for something to brace themselves with as the truck swerved on the snow and ice.
“I think he’s more used to steering ships,” Archer whispered, taking holding of a strap dangling from the roof.
“And he does only have one eye,” Adélaïde agreed, gripping the strap as well.
“Or maybe reckless is just his style?” Oliver suggested, prying his face off the front seat and reaching up.
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