How to Ruin a Summer Vacation

by Simone Elkeles

Page 13

 

  "Yes. "

  His eyes light up. "You want dance with me? My dancing better than my English. "

  I peer around him and take a peek at Avi, who is still dancing with his blond bimbo. Grabbing the guys hand, I lead him to the middle of the dance floor.

  Ive taken classes at Julies Dance Studio since I was four years old, so Im not afraid to let loose. Listen, I wouldnt choose this guy to dance with, but at this point I cant be picky.

  As I listen to the music, I pretend Im dancing with my boyfriend. When the guy puts his hands around my waist, I want to think its Mitchs hands holding me against him.

  I close my eyes. The only problem is that in my imagination theyre not Mitchs hands. Theyre Avis. The guy I hate is haunting pure thoughts of me and my boyfriend.

  Wait a minute. I think the guy Im dancing with is feeling my back as if hes trying to locate the clasp on my bra. I open my eyes and whip around to face the perv. Lucky for me my bra fastens in the front.

  I stop dancing. The perv leans forward to talk to me-- its too loud to hear unless the person is screaming in your ear. I think hes about to apologize, until I feel this slimy wet thing trying to climb into my ear canal.

  What the hell is that?

  When I realize Uncool Guy is trying to turn me on by sliding his Gene Simmons tongue around my ear and trying to shove it down my ear canal, I shriek and push him back. Anything to get his tongue as far away from my ear as possible.

  Unfortunately, Ive pushed him into some other people who were dancing. Theyre not too happy with me or the licker and push him back. This starts more pushing, and soon the place is out of control.

  Oh, crap.

  Im lost in the crowd, unable to move because the crowd has turned into a mob. When someone grabs my hand and leads me out, Im grateful.

  Until I recognize Avis bracelet attached to that hand.

  I stumble outside with Avi and the rest of the mob. Theyve cleared out the club. When I see a police car with its lights flashing, I panic. Because someone over by the police car is talking to the soldiers and policemen while pointing at me.

  "Shit. Amy, dont say anything," Avi says. "Let me talk. "

  When the soldiers and policeman come up to us, I zip my mouth shut.

  "Mah aseet," the soldier says.

  When Avi starts to talk, the guy puts up a hand and points to me.

  I wanted to keep my mouth shut, I really did. My intentions were to stand here and stay silent. "I speak English," I blurt out.

  "Did you start pushing people on the dance floor?" the soldier guy asks gruffly.

  "Only because of the ear licker. I mean, at first he tried to feel me up but then, well, I thought he was going to apologize. Instead, my ear starts getting slimy and I realize hes not apologizing, hes giving my ear a tongue bath. "

  I know Im rambling. Im scared, and I know I deserve to be punished for causing a whole club to clear out because of me. A cold knot is forming in my stomach and I clutch Avis hand.

  Then, suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of the guy with the tongue. "There he is!" I yell.

  The licker just backs up and disappears behind a car.

  The soldier barks out orders at Avi and storms off.

  "What did he say?"

  "To take you home now or else hell arrest you. Come on," he says.

  "Do you have a Q-tip?" I ask him.

  "Why?"

  Duh! "So I can wipe that guys germs out of my ear. I bet I already have an ear infection because of that dude. "

  Hes walking so fast I can hardly keep up with him.

  "You dont blame me for what happened back there, do you?"

  When we reach Avis car, he turns to me. "You were turning that guy on with your dancing. What did you expect?"

  I meet his accusing eyes without flinching. "He knew I was American. Maybe Israelis like wet tongues in their ear, but in America--"

  "He knew you were American?"

  "Yeah. I told him when he bought me the beer. "

  "Beer? You were drinking alcohol with that guy? No wonder he thought you were easy. "

  "For your information, I am not easy. "

  "American girls have a reputation around here. "

  "Stop using me as proof of your stereotypes, Avi. Its not fair. Besides, you were shakin it plenty tonight. Youre just jealous because your blond bimbo didnt want to suck y our ear off. "

  Snotty and friends are walking toward us. I cross my arms in front of my chest, waiting for them so we can go home.

  "Someone started a fight inside the disco," Ofra says to me, offering her explanation of the commotion.

  I bite my tongue and keep silent, but Avi glances sideways at me.

  "You," Snotty says. "You started it, didnt you? I should have guessed. You cant do anything right. "

  "Leave her alone," Doo-Doo says. I want to kiss him right now for sticking up for me.

  Feeling like I have support, I say to Snotty defiantly, "I can do anything you can do. " And then, because adrenaline is flowing through my body I add, "And I can do it better. "

  The look on her face is priceless. Shes thinking. I can almost hear her rusty, unused brain creaking as its working. "Shear a sheep," she blurts out. "Tomorrow morning. "

  "No problem," I say with confidence, even though on the inside Im shuddering at the thought of holding down a poor, defenseless sheep while I cut his fur off until hes naked.

  But Ill do it, just to prove to everyone I dont screw everything up.

  I just hope I dont make a fool out of myself.

  CHAPTER 16

  can do anything you can do, and I can do it better. I think.

  Just call me Amy the Sheep Shearer. Thats what Ive been trying to convince myself of all morning. After I found the note that Snotty wants to meet me after breakfast for our little challenge, that is.

  Unfortunately, last night was not a nightmare. I really and truly challenged Snotty, and I hadnt even had any of that beer I was accused of consuming. Okay, I realize Im the stupid one here, but Im still determined to prove to her that I do not screw everything up.

  I dress in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt for full protection. I dont have any protective goggles, so I put on my Coach sunglasses. Walking outside, I see Mutt bouncing toward me.

  "You find my sandal yet?"

  To answer me, he rolls onto his back. His tongue is hanging out of his mouth like a beggar.

  "Dont grovel," I say. "Its not attractive. "

  I pick the mutt up and carry him with me. He might prove useful when Im trying to corner the sheep. "Okay," I say. "Lets get a game plan. You make me look good, and Ill forget the sandal incident. Okay?"

  Mutts answer is a big fart.

  This is not going to be my day.

  When I reach the sheep pens, Ofra is the first person I see.

  "You dont have to do this," she says.

  Oh, yes I do. For me. For Mutt. For Americans all over the globe. Ofras lack of confidence in me just furthers my resolve.

  "Thats okay. I want to do it," I assure her.

  Doo-Doo comes over to me and gives me pointers. "Hold him down. Keep your eye on him. Dont drop the razor on your toe. "

  Hes like a boxing coach, and in the ring is my opponent.

  Theyve placed one sheep in the pen, along with a large razor hanging from the ceiling. Doo-Doo helps me strap the razor to my hand.

  I survey my surroundings. Snotty is sitting on top of a railing with Odead at her side. Ofra and Doo-Doo, my supporters, are beside me.

  Avi is nowhere in sight. Im surprised he didnt come to watch me get eaten alive by a sheep.

  In the opposite pen is another sheep. Snottys. I swear, it looks a lot smaller than mine.

  Taking a deep breath, I enter the pen with the unsuspecting animal. Hes even bigger than I thought. Youd think Snotty would have enough compassion to give me a lamb like the one in the nursery rhyme, but
no.

  This is definitely not Marys little lamb. And its fleece is as dirty as Mutts, not white as snow.

  Snotty enters the other pen. She jumps right in, like she does this every day. Then she turns to me. "Youre really going to go through with it?"

  "Hell, yeah. " I once saw a bumper sticker that showed a picture of an American flag and the caption below These Colors Dont Run. Im not about to chicken out. Even though I really, really want to.

  "Okay," she says, pure disbelief on her face. "On the count of three well start. Whoever finishes first, wins. "

  "Fair enough. "

  "One. Two. Three. "

  I put Mutt down and whisper, "Go do your thing. "

  Immediately, Mutt starts barking and the sheep scurries into the corner. I turn on the razor and head toward the menacing animal.

  Until it looks at me with those big, gray eyes. I keep thinking that Ron told me its too hot for them with their hair all bushy. I understand and sympathize. Okay, Im trying to convince myself that I understand and sympathize.

  Its not working.

  I look down at Mutt, whos staring at me as if saying, Do it! Hes right. Theres no chickening out now. I have to face my fears and just do it. I hold up the razor like a sword and head into battle.

  Except the stupid sheep runs away in fear. When it passes me, I hold out the razor like an idiot. Now the thing has a bald stripe down its back.

  I try not to listen to or look at the progress in the other pen. Im trying to concentrate solely on my mission. Mutt is barking up a storm, making the sheep nervous.

  "Wrestle him to the ground and hold him there," I hear from my cheering section.

  Should I break the news that I never had a brother to teach me to wrestle? Or a sister, for that matter.

  "Mutt, you got to help me here. "

  Mutt is a great sheep herder. I realize this when the animal tries to move. Mutt expertly heads him off and gets him in the corner again.

  With a swift move, I hold my weight against the wooly creature and start shearing. Theres no rhyme or reason to it, Im just so happy when the dirty, wooly fur starts flying off.

  I hear lots of laughing, some cheering and various directions from Doo-Doo. I dont stop, Im like a sheep shearing nut gone wild.

  I step back and look at the poor animal. Okay, so I havent done such a hot job. He has a Mohawk hairdo and his body looks like its a road map. But I did it and I feel victorious.

  Until I hear Rons voice yell, "What the hell is going on here?"

  Chapter 17

  This roller coaster called life is making me dizzy.

  "Amy, we need to talk. "

  I hate when parents think they can sit down and tell you what youve been doing wrong while they expect you to sit quiet and nod like a bobblehead figurine.

  "What do you want?"

  Right now Im sitting outside the house petting Mutt. Im proud of him, hes a great sheep herder. I can hear Uncle Chime yelling at Snotty inside the house. He didnt look too happy when Ron explained our little competition.

  "I want to know whats going on with you," Ron says, sitting next to me.

  "Nothing," I say.

  He places one of his hands on my forearm. "Believe it or not, I want you to be happy. You dont have to shear sheep to prove anything to me. "

  I shrug his hand off me.

  "If you want me to be happy, give me a ticket home right now. I dont belong here," I say. Then I add, "and I dont belong with you. "