Maxie, Rosie, and Earl-Partners in Grime

by Barbara Park

  Earl looked at her through the two round eyeholes in the ski mask. “She told him that she had a chicken potpie in the oven,” he said excitedly.

  Maxie and Rosie stared at him for a very long time.

  “That’s it?” Rosie asked finally. “That’s the excuse? You want us to tell Mr. Shivers that we had to leave school because we had a chicken potpie in the oven?”

  Instantly, Earl felt like an idiot. Why did things always sound so good in his mind but so stupid out loud? Without saying another word, he took off his thinking cap and threw it on the floor.

  Maxie sighed. “Okay, maybe we’re just making it too complicated. Why don’t we just keep it simple and tell Mr. Shivers it was all just a big mistake.”

  Rosie frowned a little. “We climbed into the Dumpster by mistake?”

  “Yes,” said Maxie. “Remember when we left the office and Mrs. Trumbull said, ‘Go back to class’? We’ll tell Mr. Shivers we thought she said, ‘Go sit in the trash.’ ”

  Once again, the car was filled with silence. When Maxie looked up, Rosie was staring a hole right through his head.

  “Brilliant,” she said.

  Trying to maintain his dignity, Maxie slid down the seat and out of view.

  In the corner, Earl was already digging around in his pocket again. He offered Rosie a Rolaid. She put it in her mouth, then opened the car door and spit it on the garage floor. Now that she was a criminal, spitting didn’t bother her that much.

  “What about this?” she said. “What if we offered Mr. Jim money not to squeal on us?”

  “Money?” Earl asked.

  “Yeah, you know. Hush money. Hush money is when you pay people not to tattle. We could put it in a big envelope and stick it in his mailbox with a note.”

  Earl shrank down. He didn’t have any money. He’d just spent his allowance on a digital thermometer and a pair of Odor-Eaters.

  Maxie pulled some lint out of his pocket and put the fuzz in Rosie’s hand. “That’s it. That’s as much money as I have.”

  Rosie moaned. “Great. I don’t have any money, either. That means on Monday morning we’re going to get suspended. And it will stay on our permanent record forever and ever. And we won’t be able to go to college. Or get a job. And the next thing you know, we’ll be stealing purses from old ladies and saying we just needed a hankie.”

  Earl started to panic. “No, no. Come on, you guys. We can’t just give up. Please. What if we call Mr. Jim? What if we call him and beg him not to tell? What if we—”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Earl looked outside his window. Oh no! There was a man there!

  Trying to escape before he was seen, Earl lifted up on the door handle and pushed with all his might. Unfortunately, at that same moment, Mr. Zuckerman opened the door from the outside, and Earl Wilber fell onto the garage floor.

  Maxie hurried out of the car. Rosie did, too. How long had Mr. Zuckerman been standing there? Had he been listening? How much had he heard?

  Maxie started to babble. “Dad! Hi! Hello! Hello, Dad! Hi!”

  He pointed. “These are my, uh … well, friends. This is Rosie Swanson. And that one is—”

  They looked down at the floor.

  “Earl.”

  “Ted,” said Earl.

  “Earl Ted,” said Maxie.

  Mr. Zuckerman kept on standing there.

  “It’s okay that we’re sitting in the car, isn’t it, Dad?” Maxie asked. Not waiting for an answer, he turned to Rosie. “This was my dad’s car when he was in high school. It almost still runs, too, right, Dad? All it needs are some new tires, a little bodywork, a paint job, and an engine.”

  Maxie patted the hood. “Yessiree. This is what you call a classic car. It’s a collector’s item. Not many of these babies around anymore, right, Dad?”

  Mr. Zuckerman looked at Maxie oddly again. Then—still not saying a word—he stepped over Earl, grabbed a rake off the wall, and left.

  Angrily, Earl jumped up and began dusting himself off.

  “Thank you very much,” he snapped at Maxie. “Thank you for not warning me that your father was opening my door. Thank you for letting me make a total fool of myself.”

  He reached into the car and grabbed his fur parka and ski mask from the floor. Then he put the heavy jacket on again and started for the door.

  Maxie grabbed his arm. “No, Earl. Don’t go home, okay? I mean it. Why do you have to go?”

  Rosie grinned. “Maybe he has an Eskimo Pie in the oven,” she said.

  Just then, Maxie and Rosie looked at each other and busted out laughing.

  Earl wanted to die. Why were people always laughing at him? Why was everyone so mean?

  He tried to pull away from Maxie’s grip, but now Rosie had grabbed ahold of him, too. Even though she was still giggling, she was trying to apologize.

  “I’m sorry, Earl. Really. I was only making a joke. I swear,” she said.

  “She was,” said Maxie. “Come on, Earl. It was just funny, that’s all. Can’t you see that it was funny?”

  With both of them pulling on his arms, Earl finally stopped struggling. He stared down at the floor and shuffled his feet a little.

  Maxie gave him a pat on the back. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

  Earl took a big breath.

  The three of them got back in the car.

  8 COMING

  IN FOR A

  LANDING

  By Sunday night, Maxie, Rosie, and Earl had still not come up with a plan. Depressed and nervous about what would happen the next day, they decided to meet on the school playground at 7:30 in the morning for one last try. Earl agreed not to wear a disguise.

  When they arrived, it was hard to tell which of them looked worst. Rosie and Maxie were tired and pale. Earl was wearing big sunglasses.

  “It’s not a disguise,” he said right away. “My eyes are red and puffy from not sleeping. And I didn’t want my mother to start asking a bunch of questions. So I told her it was ‘Sunglasses Day.’ ”

  He burped quietly. “Sorry, but I couldn’t keep my breakfast down, either. I mean, it went down okay. But it came right back up again. It was only half a bowl of Frosted Flakes, but still it—”

  Maxie covered his ears. “Okay, okay. You don’t need to paint us a picture.”

  Rosie sat on the swing right next to Maxie. Her hair was stringier than usual, and her eyes looked saggy.

  “It’s all over,” she whined. “Ten years of being perfect, right down the toilet. By this afternoon, I’ll probably be blowing my nose in the water fountain.”

  Maxie looked at his watch: 7:46. The bell would ring in forty-four minutes. The moment of doom was closing in.

  “I know Mr. Shivers found out what we did,” Rosie continued. “Mr. Jim probably called him as soon as he got home on Friday afternoon and blabbed the whole thing. That’s always the best time to squeal on people, you know. While the incident is still fresh in your mind.”

  She paused a second, then added, “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  Maxie closed his eyes. “I feel like I’m going to my own funeral.”

  Earl took his hand away from his mouth long enough to mutter, “You are.”

  Just then, Mr. Jim came around the corner of the school. He was carrying a load of paper towels into the office.

  The three ducked down. Maxie hated this. The pressure was killing him. He had to get it over with.

  Suddenly, he stood up and started walking toward the office. “I don’t care if Mr. Jim sees me or not. If I don’t get this talk with Mr. Shivers over right now, I’m going to go crazy. I mean it. I am.”

  He walked several steps, then turned around. “Well? You’re not going to make me go in there alone, are you? You guys are coming, too, right?”

  He lowered his voice a little. “Please?”

  Rosie took a deep breath, then walked over next to him.

  Both of them waited for Earl. When he didn’t come, they went back and helped him
up from the swing. Then, side by side, the three began the scary walk toward Mr. Shivers’ office.

  They were almost there when Earl collapsed in the grass and refused to get up again.

  Rosie glared down at him. Now was not the time for Earl to pull another lame stunt.

  She bent down and made a fist. “If you don’t stand up, I’m going to hurt you,” she said.

  Earl got up and walked the rest of the way in silence.

  When they reached the office, Rosie opened the door, and the three of them stepped inside. Mrs. Trumbull looked up from her desk. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back,” she said. Then she buzzed the principal in his office and went back to her work.

  Within seconds, Mr. Shivers appeared in his doorway. He was wearing a black suit with a black tie and black shoes. Black, as in funeral director.

  He rubbed his hands together. “Good morning, all. Glad to see everyone showed up this morning. Who would like to come in first?”

  Maxie took a step backward. Thank goodness Zuckerman started with Z.

  “How ’bout you, Mr. Zuckerman?”

  Maxie gulped. What? How could this be?

  “But … but I’m a Z,” he said.

  The principal smiled and nodded. Then he ushered Maxie into his office.

  After the door was closed, Mr. Shivers sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “Okay, Mr. Zuckerman. Let’s get right to the heart of the matter, shall we? I know what happened on Friday, okay? I’ve been informed about the whole episode.”

  Maxie gulped. “Informed?”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Shivers.

  “Informed, as in ‘squealed on’?” Maxie asked again.

  “Well, I suppose you could put it that way,” said Mr. Shivers. “The point is, I know what you did, Max. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to hear your side of things.”

  All morning, Maxie had been trying to be brave. But by now, it seemed as if all of his courage had evaporated into thin air.

  Mr. Shivers tapped his foot. “We don’t have all day, Mr. Zuckerman. Could you tell me your side, please?”

  Maxie’s voice sounded weak. “Well, I guess I don’t really have a side, Mr. Shivers. I mean, I tried to think of a side, but nothing really sounded believable. So all I can say is that I was just really, really mad on Friday. And I didn’t use good judgment. And, well, you know … I did what I did.”

  He thought a second, then added, “I’m only ten.”

  Mr. Shivers raised his eyebrows. “Anything else?”

  Maxie felt desperate. “Love your tie.”

  Mr. Shivers couldn’t help smiling. The smile didn’t change anything, though. “You understand that I’m going to have to call your parents, right?” he said.

  Maxie nodded. “Yes, but could you do me one little favor, please? Could you tell my dad that when he comes to pick me up that I’ll meet him in the parking lot? I just don’t want him to come storming into my classroom and carry me out over his shoulders like Andy Reilly’s father did last year.”

  Mr. Shivers looked confused.

  “But Andy Reilly was suspended, Mr. Zuckerman. Andy played hooky for three days. That’s a little more serious than cutting someone’s shirt with your art scissors, don’t you think? Not that that was okay, but I don’t think your father will be coming to get you.”

  Maxie frowned. Hold on a second. What was going on here? All this time, had Mr. Shivers been talking about the shirt thing? He hadn’t been talking about the Dumpster thing?

  The principal continued. “As I was saying, I’m going to call your parents today. And I will definitely expect you to buy Daniel a new shirt by the end of the week. Do we understand each other?”

  Maxie couldn’t speak. This was just too good to be true!

  Mr. Shivers stood up and pointed toward the waiting room. “You can go now, Mr. Zuckerman. On your way, could you please send in Miss Swanson?”

  Maxie practically ran out the door. Rosie and Earl looked up at him. Their faces were green almost. He had to find a way to let them know that Mr. Jim hadn’t squealed. Otherwise, one of them would spill the beans for sure.

  But how? Mr. Shivers could hear every word he said. Plus, nosy Mrs. Trumbull was staring over the counter at him.

  Maxie plastered a smile on his face and wiped his forehead. “Whew!” he said, hoping his relief would be a hint.

  Earl thought it meant that Maxie was sweaty.

  He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Whew,” he repeated sickly.

  Think, Maxie! Think! Think! he ordered his brain.

  “Mr. Shivers wants to see you next,” he told Rosie. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth, and as softy as he could, he whispered, “He … doesn’t … know.”

  Rosie raised her eyebrows. “Huh? Who? What?” she asked.

  Maxie started to panic. If only they had a secret code! If only there was some secret way to tell Rosie she was safe! Then—out of the blue—it hit him!

  The all-clear signal! Of course!

  Quickly, Maxie began to swing his arm in big, wide circles all around his body.

  Please, Rosie! he begged in his head. Please understand! It’s the all-clear signal! We’re off the hook!

  By this time, Maxie’s arm was circling his body so fast that he thought it would fly right off his shoulder. He was still praying for another miracle when he heard Mr. Shivers’ voice behind him.

  “Mr. Zuckerman? What are you doing, son? Trying to bring a plane in for a landing?”

  A light went on in Rosie’s head, and she nodded.

  Quickly, she poked Earl with her elbow, and he nodded, too.

  Relief flooded over them.

  They were safe.

  9 THUMBS UP

  Earl was the last one back to the swing set that morning. Maxie and Rosie were sure that he had understood the all-clear signal. But still, it was nerve-wracking waiting for him.

  When they finally saw him walking across the grass, they ran to meet him.

  “Well?” asked Rosie. “What happened? Tell us, Earl! Everything’s okay, right? You didn’t mention the Dumpster, did you? Come on! What did Mr. Shivers say?”

  Earl crossed his arms and looked annoyed. “He said I had to read out loud. That’s what he said.”

  “Yeah, fine. But that’s all he said, right?” Maxie asked him.

  “No,” said Earl. “He also said that reading is fundamental. And that I’m not allowed to say no to my teacher. And that from now on I have to try to—”

  Rosie grabbed Earl by the shirt. “For gosh sake, Earl! Just tell us! Did you mention the Dumpster or not?”

  Earl pulled a Kleenex out of his shirt pocket and wiped his top lip. “Not,” he said.

  Maxie started jumping up and down. “I can’t believe it! This is amazing! We actually got away with it! We ditched school, and we didn’t get caught!”

  Rosie didn’t look sure. “I don’t know, Max. Do you really, really think that it’s over?”

  “Yeah,” said Earl. “I mean why didn’t Mr. Jim tell on us? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Maxie was still jumping around. “Who knows? Who cares? The important thing is that he didn’t.”

  “Not yet, you mean,” said Rosie.

  “Exactly,” said Earl. “Maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to it. Same thing for that little girl, too. Just because she hasn’t told anyone yet doesn’t mean she won’t.”

  Maxie put his hands over his ears. “Stop it, you two. I mean it! You guys are like the Gloom and Doom twins. It’s over, I’m telling you. Mr. Jim didn’t squeal. And the little kindergarten dipsey got scared away by a threat from the bogeyman. We did it. You can relax. Nothing is going to happen.”

  Rosie and Earl looked at each other. It was reassuring to hear the confidence in Maxie’s voice.

  “Well … maybe,” said Rosie.

  “Yeah … maybe,” echoed Earl.

  Just then, the school door opened, and Mr. Jim headed toward the playground with
his weed trimmer.

  Maxie Zuckerman was the first to cover his face.

  When the bell finally rang, Rosie left the playground in a hurry. But instead of taking her usual route to her classroom, she hurried down the hall and waited near the kindergarten. Sometimes the only way to be sure something was done right was to do it yourself.

  Outside the classroom, several little girls were lining up to go inside. One was skipping all around in circles. She was wearing a name tag on her dress. It read: Emily Sweete.

  Rosie went over and tapped her on the shoulder. “Could I talk to you a minute, Emily?”

  Emily Sweete smoothed out her hair. “Who are you?”

  Rosie bent down. “I’m a friend of those two boys you saw in the hall on Friday. Remember those two boys?”

  Emily nodded cutely. “You mean Ted and the skinny boy?”

  “Yes. Right. Ted and the skinny boy. I was just wondering if you told anybody about them. Like about how they sort of magically vanished while they were watching you skip?”

  Emily put her hands on her hips. “They didn’t magically vanish,” she said. “They went right out the door before school was over. I saw them.”

  Rosie tensed. “Yeah, well, whatever. The point is, you didn’t tell anyone about them, right?”

  Emily Sweete looked all around. Then she cupped her hands around Rosie’s ear and whispered. “No. ’Cause guess why? The cookie man called me at my house. And he said not to talk about those boys.”

  Rosie gave her a funny look. “The cookie man?”

  “Yes,” said Emily. “He said not to tell on those guys or else he’d come visit me. He didn’t sound that friendly.”

  She frowned. “What does the cookie man do, anyway? Does he come to your house and eat all your cookies?”

  Rosie tried not to smile. “Yes, Emily,” she said seriously. “Yes, he does. He comes to your house and he eats all your cookies.”

  She covered her mouth and grinned. Poor Earl Wilber. Who else could pretend to be the bogeyman and end up as the cookie man?

  Feeling a little better, Rosie looked around. She didn’t have much time left, but there was someone else she really wanted to find.

  “Emily, do you remember the fire drill we had on Friday? You didn’t happen to see a boy kicking the Dumpster while we were outside, did you? I’m pretty sure it was a kindergarten boy.”