School-Tripped

by Jennifer L. Holm

  “Oooh,” I said. “Good luck!”

  “Did you see that?” Penny asked as we walked away.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Looks delicious!”

  “No,” she said. “Pearl Street! That’s one of the streets on our list!”

  Aha!

  * * *

  We followed the line from end to beginning as it wound around block after block. These people seriously, seriously wanted that inside-out bagel.

  Finally, we got to the storefront at 1025 Pearl Street. Sure enough, there were streamers, posters, and sandwich boards all announcing the one-of-a-kind inside-out bagel. I looked closely at the picture.

  “I don’t get it,” I told Penny. “It just looks like a weird bagel to me.”

  “Over there!” said Penny. “Is that Felicia?”

  It was Felicia. And Melinda, Belinda, and Berry. They were next in line to buy inside-out bagels!

  “Let’s go catch up with them!” I said, trying to make my way into the store. “Felicia! Hey!”

  “HEY! WAIT YOUR TURN!” a woman yelled angrily.

  “YEAH!” said another. “We’ve been here for hours!”

  Suddenly, everyone in the line began yelling and booing.

  A man in a black suit with a badge that said “Pastry Patrol” was immediately on the scene.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to vacate the premises,” he said.

  “But I just wanted to see—”

  “Ma’am, do you want me to call for bakery backup?” he asked, putting his walkie-talkie close to his mouth.

  “It’s okay,” said Penny, pulling me aside. “We were just leaving.”

  The crowd clapped and cheered as we were escorted away from the store.

  “That was embarrassing,” I said, collapsing onto an empty stoop.

  “Look on the bright side,” said Penny. “We can cross another street off our list.”

  She pointed at “1026 Pearl Street” on a window across the street. The place was an empty storefront. A large “For Rent” sign hung in the window.

  “Two down, two to go!” I said enthusiastically.

  I pulled a pen from my basket and crossed “Pearl Street” off our list.

  Peanut and Peach? Two tasty streets to go.

  I looked at my watch. It was almost two p.m. We still had a lot of ground to cover if we wanted to get Pizza Kitty back to her owner—and make it to the bus before it left the museum!

  “Where to now?” Penny asked, holding out our dwindling list of street names.

  “Hopefully somewhere with a bathroom!” I replied. I’d drunk a LOT of tea at lunch.

  Penny and I looked around. The streets had become more crowded with people. That’s when we saw him AGAIN—the mysterious mime was sitting on a fire escape around the corner!

  “The mime!” I exclaimed.

  “What are the chances?” Penny asked. “And where are we, anyway?”

  I looked up at a street sign.

  “Looks like we’re in—”

  “THE Theater District?!” Penny cut me off (with style, I might add).

  The fire escape was behind a theater! I could almost see Penny’s eyes transforming into stars as she took it all in. Theater was one of her all-time favorite things. Don’t get me wrong, I like theater just as much as the next mouse—but the bathroom situation was turning into an emergency.

  (Cue Mom’s “what IS or is NOT an emergency” speech. You know what I mean!)

  “Let’s go ask the mime if he knows of any public bathrooms,” Penny suggested.

  Pizza Kitty meowed in agreement. Maybe she had to go, too.

  I really wasn’t looking forward to translating mime directions, but it seemed about as good as any other option.

  We walked slowly toward the fire escape, where we realized the mime was munching on French fries. He stared as we came closer. At first, I thought it was because I was walking funny (reminder: bathroom situation!), but then I realized he was staring at Pizza Kitty’s adorable head poking out of my basket.

  “What a cute kitten!” he said. He emptied the rest of the French fries into his mouth and slid off the fire escape.

  “We’re trying to find her owner,” Penny replied.

  “Aw,” he said, putting out his gloved hand. “Can I see her?”

  Penny lifted the basket top, and the mime began nonsensically baby-talking to the kitten.

  “I thought mimes didn’t talk,” I said, confused.

  “I’m on my lunch break,” he replied. He crumpled up his fast-food bag and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

  “Oh, in that case, can we use the theater restroom?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m not supposed to let people backstage,” he said slowly. “But the security guard loves cats, so he might make an exception.”

  He led the way toward a back entrance. Outside it, a couple of people were sitting around on old milk crates, playing cards. Some of them waved as we went by. The mime nodded and held open the large metal door.

  “Friends of yours, H?” asked the burly security guard inside the door.

  I shrank back. I was not looking to get escorted out of two places in one day.

  “Something like that,” he replied with a grin. “Look what they got in the basket.”

  He pointed to Pizza Kitty, and the security guard’s demeanor instantly changed.

  “What a cute kitten!” he squealed. Then he said, serious again, “Sure, go on through. Just keep it down because they’re still rehearsing for tonight.”

  The mime flashed a smile.

  Something about his smile seemed so familiar to me….

  * * *

  The theater was empty except for a handful of actors rehearsing onstage. I handed Pizza Kitty to Penny and bolted to the nearest bathroom.

  When I returned, I found her sitting in the back row with the mime, watching the rehearsal. I took Pizza Kitty so Penny could use the bathroom, then sat and watched the incredible choreography unfold onstage.

  A woman with a clipboard and a headset approached. I thought for sure I was going to get kicked out, but instead she motioned past me, toward the mime.

  “Tommy, you’re next for hair and makeup,” she said, tapping her watch. “We’re starting at act two.”

  Before I could understand what was going on, she had disappeared into the back of the theater.

  “That’s my director,” said the mime. “Gotta go!”

  I sat in silence, stunned.

  “What was that about?” Penny asked, returning from the bathroom.

  “Penny,” I said slowly. “You’re not going to believe this, but you know that, um, mime?”

  “Yeah, what a nice guy! For a mime, I mean. That seems like it would be a weird job, you know? Just wandering around all day not talking and—”

  I cut her off. “That mime is Tommy H!”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  Penny and I sat watching the rehearsal, mesmerized. It was the best show we had ever seen—and we weren’t even really seeing it!

  When the rehearsal finally ended, it took everything in our power to pry ourselves away from our seats. But the clock was ticking, and we still had to find Pizza Kitty’s home.

  * * *

  As luck would have it, we bumped into Tommy H on our way out the side door. (Okay, I admit it: we waited around for almost half an hour….)

  “Can we pleeeeease have your autograph?” Penny asked, wasting no time.

  “Sure,” he said, adjusting the duffel bag over his shoulder. “As long as I can take a picture with your kitten.”

  “No problem,” I said, lifting the basket. “Pizza Kitty loves photo ops.”

  “Pizza Kitty?” he asked, taking out his phone. “That’s a new one.”

  “It’s a long story,” Penny said with a laugh.

  “Say ‘cheese�
�!” Tommy H said.

  “You mean ‘extra cheese’?” I asked, snapping another on my disposable.

  Tommy H laughed. (I made Tommy H laugh!)

  “Wow, what’s with that camera?” he asked. “That’s so last century.”

  “Another long story,” Penny replied.

  “Now, what do you want me to sign?” he asked.

  It was then I realized I didn’t have any paper. Penny and I turned out our pockets once more, frantically trying to find something other than the scrap of paper with the street names.

  “No worries,” he said coolly. “You can take these instead.”

  He reached into a pocket of his duffel bag and handed us each one of his white gloves, which we immediately put on our hands.

  We thanked him and waved good-bye (with his gloves) just as a black SUV pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and Tommy H got in. And just like that, he was gone.

  Penny and I stared at each other in disbelief.

  “Did that really just happen?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said a voice from behind me. I turned around to see the security guard chuckling to himself. I smiled awkwardly, and Penny and I started walking down the street in no particular direction.

  “I’m never going to take this glove off again!” She held her gloved hand to her cheek.

  “That’s funny,” I replied, pulling mine off. “Because I’m never putting mine on again.”

  There was ketchup all over it.

  For the next twenty minutes, we rehashed every single detail of our encounter: the brilliant choreography, the toe-tapping music—even the cleanliness of the bathrooms! The thing that finally broke the spell was honking from a nearby traffic jam.

  I looked at my watch. It was already three p.m.! We had just two hours to find Pizza Kitty’s owner and get back to the museum. Luckily, we already knew where to find the next address on the list—1026 Peach Street—because it was the one we had missed earlier (when we took the subway the wrong way).

  “This looks like a dead end,” Penny said. We had come to a huge stone wall at the end of a street.

  “Want to lift me up so I can see over the wall?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Penny said, placing Pizza Kitty down on the sidewalk.

  After several unsuccessful attempts, she finally boosted me up far enough to see over the wall.

  “What do you see?” Penny said, gasping under my weight.

  “A park entrance right next to us!” I yelled. “And Pizza Kitty running away!”

  “Oh no!” Penny shouted, catching me as I fell down. She grabbed the basket, and we ran into the park after Pizza Kitty.

  It was a warm day, and people of all ages were out, soaking up the sun. They were playing sports, running, cycling, lounging—you name it!

  We spotted Pizza Kitty easily from the commotion she was causing in the dog park. Penny and I tried to catch her, but she was scared of all the dogs and ran away every time we came near her.

  Eventually, she ran up into a tree.

  “How are we going to catch her?” Penny asked.

  “I have an idea,” I said, approaching a couple having a picnic.

  “Are you done with that?” I asked them, pointing to their pizza box full of crusts.

  They exchanged weird looks before the woman said, “Uh, sure.”

  “Thanks!” I said, scooping it up.

  I ran into the dog park.

  “Excuse me! Pardon me!” I said, pushing through the crowd. “Pizza delivery!” I put the box on the ground underneath the tree and waited.

  At first, nothing happened. But slowly, Pizza Kitty climbed down through the branches, and she leaped into the pizza box.

  “You did it!” Penny cried. “She really is Pizza Kitty after all.”

  Penny and I gently put her back in my basket (along with the crusts). A group of onlookers began to clap and cheer, and I couldn’t help but smile. Penny snapped a photo on my camera.

  Exhausted, we tossed the pizza box into a recycling bin and found an empty bench to collapse on. Penny and I sat for a minute, taking in the scene. That was the first time I noticed there were super-cute pigeons everywhere!

  “Aww,” I said to Penny. “I wish I had something I could feed these pigeons….”

  “How about the crusts?” Penny asked, reaching into the basket.

  Pizza Kitty meowed ferociously.

  “Okay, maybe not,” said Penny, pulling back her hand. “Oh, we have the leftover dumplings from lunch!” She pulled out the doggy bag.

  “Perfect!” I said, ripping it open.

  “Uh, Babymouse,” Penny warned. “I don’t think you should do that….”

  But it was too late. Swarms of pigeons descended on me all at once.

  Well, I learned my lesson.

  * * *

  After I brushed the feathers off, we hit the road once more.

  I thought it would be easy to get from one side of the park to the other, but in reality, it was like a windy maze with no easy starting or ending point.

  The paths all looked like straight lines, but then they would unexpectedly veer off to one side or back the other way. Plus, it was hilly, so you couldn’t see far in any direction.

  Suddenly, we came to a fork in the road.

  “Let’s go this way,” Penny said, pointing to the left.

  “Really? I feel like we should go that way,” I said, pointing right.

  We decided to climb the huge boulder in front of us to get a better view.

  From the top of the boulder, we could see very far in all directions. Soon, we were on the right track again, nearing the park exit, when something flew past me.

  SWOOSH!

  I looked up to see a soccer ball bounce off the park fence and roll right in front of me.

  “Hey, kid!” a voice called.

  I turned around. A professional-looking soccer player was standing there, the rest of her team in the background.

  “Kick it!” she shouted.

  I immediately started to panic. It was just like I was back in gym class.

  “Go for it, Babymouse!” Penny said, cheering me on.

  After the soccer ball fiasco, I was glad to be out of that park!

  And even more so when we saw the information stand near the exit. I was thrilled to see it had tons of maps of the city.

  I’d never realized how much I relied on my Whiz Bang™ to get around. Using a real paper map was pretty old-fashioned, but it was also kind of cool.

  “May I have one map, please?” I asked a man who was working there.

  “Sure,” he replied, showing me samples. “The laminated ones are $6.75, and the paper ones are $3.50. Plus tax.”

  “Oh—uh,” I stammered. “Are any of them free?”

  “Free?” The man laughed, nudging his partner. “Sorry, kid!”

  “Psst! Babymouse!” Penny whispered.

  “What?”

  She pointed to a trash can. “I’m pretty sure I just saw someone throw out a map!”

  We rushed over and peered into the trash can. Sure enough, near the bottom was a map.

  Huzzah!

  Neither of us wanted to stick our hand in there, so we decided to flip a coin. But we were so broke we didn’t even have a coin to toss! We ended up using a bottle cap we found on the ground instead.

  I lost the flip (of course), which meant Penny would get to hold Pizza Kitty while I dug around for someone’s old map in the trash.

  “If only I had a glove or something,” I said, holding my nose and putting my arm into the toxic can. Then I remembered—I did have a glove, the one Tommy H had given me!

  I reached into my bag and pulled it on.

  We arrived at 1026 Peach Street about fifteen minutes later. It was an old brick apartment building, six floors high. Penny and I peered into the courtyard before deciding t
he coast was clear of dogs. (I had sure learned that lesson!)

  “Hmmm. Was there an apartment number listed?” I asked Penny.

  She frowned. “Nope. Just the street address.”

  “You can’t be serious!” I groaned. “What now?!”

  “I guess we’ll have to try every door,” she said.

  We both sighed. This was going to take some time. I looked at the long shadows in the courtyard. The sun was already starting to go down. We had to hurry!

  We climbed the stairs to the door. I tugged on the handle a few times, but the door didn’t open.

  Penny got behind me, and she pulled me as I pulled the door.

  Still nothing.

  “How do we get in this place?” I asked.

  “Maybe we have to press one of these buttons,” Penny suggested, pointing to a panel of buttons with numbers.

  I started pressing every button.

  Silence. Then, suddenly, a bunch of different voices began coming through the intercom.

  I looked at Penny and stammered, “Uh—I have a lost cat here.”

  Man. You’d think people would be a little friendlier to someone trying to return a lost cat!

  Penny bit her lip.

  “I don’t know, Babymouse,” she began. “Maybe we should skip this building.”

  “But what if this is Pizza Kitty’s home?” I said, holding up the kitten. “Pizza Kitty, do you live here?”

  Pizza Kitty blinked.

  “Maybe she can give us a hint,” Penny suggested. “Let’s put her on the stoop and see what she does.”

  That was a great idea!