We gently placed Pizza Kitty on the ground and watched her closely.
She licked her fur.
“Maybe she’s trying to say something to us in secret code,” Penny said doubtfully.
“Like we’ll be looking fur-ever?” I asked.
Pizza Kitty curled up in a ball and closed her eyes.
“What a cute kitten!” a voice behind us announced.
We turned to see a girl about our age with a backpack, walking up the stairs. She must have been coming home from school.
“Is she yours?” the girl asked.
“No,” Penny replied. “But is she yours?”
The girl looked puzzled.
“She’s lost. We’re trying to find her owner,” I explained.
“Ah,” said the girl. “Well, I can let you in, but I can’t help you look. I have a ton of homework tonight.” She dumped her bag on the top step with a PLOP and pulled out her key.
“Great—thanks!” I said, putting Pizza Kitty back in the basket.
Getting into the building seemed like a win, but then I remembered how many apartments we still had to visit….
I knocked on the first door.
A woman in hair curlers peeked through a small opening.
“Hello,” I said with a smile. “We’re here to see if—”
“Oh, hold on. Just let me get my checkbook,” she said, and disappeared before we could stop her.
“Checkbook?” mouthed Penny.
I shrugged.
In a minute, she was back.
“Okay, yes, I would like three boxes of Dark Chocolateys, two boxes of Raspberry Razzies, and one box of Lemon Lemonies. How much will that be?”
“Oh, uh, actually, we’re just here to see if this is your lost kitten,” I said, holding up my basket.
“Oh no, never! I’m horribly allergic to cats! I thought you were selling Animal Scout cookies.”
She shut the door in our faces.
* * *
It didn’t get much better from there.
By the time we got to the top floor, Penny and I were completely wiped out. We plodded along until we got to the very last apartment door. I was too tired to knock, so I just let my head fall forward into the door with a clunk.
“Coming!” a voice yelled from inside. When the door opened, we were surprised to see it was the girl who had let us in.
“Oh, hey, it’s you two!” she said. “Any luck?”
We shook our heads sadly. Pizza Kitty let out a disheartened meow.
“Bummer,” she said. “But since you’re already up here, want to see something cool?”
My whiskers perked up.
“Sure!” Penny and I said at the same time.
The girl led us toward a heavy door in the hallway outside her apartment.
“My name’s Glinda,” she said.
“Did you say Glinda?” I asked, eyes wide.
“No, Linda,” she corrected me.
“Oh.” I tried to hide my disappointment.
“I’m Penny,” said Penny.
“And I’m Babymouse,” I added. “And this is Pizza Kitty.”
“Nice to meet you, Pizza Kitty,” said Linda, jokingly shaking the kitten’s tiny paw.
We stepped through the door and walked up a small flight of steps onto a large concrete deck. We were on the roof!
“Wow!” Penny exclaimed, holding Pizza Kitty safely in the basket.
From there, we could see the WHOLE CITY! It was the most incredible thing I had ever seen. The sun setting over the buildings left a pretty pink-and-orange glow. You could almost taste the cotton candy clouds. I felt like Dorothy seeing the Emerald City for the first time.
“Now, that’s what I call a masterpiece,” I said. I took out my camera and snapped a picture.
“You can see on and on forever!” Penny exclaimed.
“Yeah,” said Linda proudly. “I love this view. It never gets old.”
“Almost makes knocking on every door in the building feel worth it,” Penny said quietly.
“Almost,” I emphasized.
“Yeah,” Linda said. “It’s too bad you didn’t find the owner. But I’m not surprised because our landlord doesn’t allow pets in the building.”
Penny and I exchanged glances that said, “Now you tell us?!”
Suddenly, a clock on a nearby tower began to ring.
“It’s four o’clock!” Penny and I shouted.
“We’ve got to go now, or we’ll miss the bus home,” I said, heading for the door.
“Bye! Thanks for showing us your roof!” Penny yelled to Linda.
“No prob!” Linda said, waving us off. “Good luck with everything!”
Back on the street, we consulted our list of street names:
There was only one place left: Peanut Street. I remembered from the soda-soaked map that it was not far from the museum, so we decided to make our way back in that direction. We were still about thirty blocks north.
My flip-flops weren’t exactly made for running, but there was no time to waste. We couldn’t stop for food, water, the bathroom, or anything in the world other than—
“KAZOO!” Penny exclaimed.
“What?” I asked, shocked.
“Kazoo! This is the store Felicia and her friends were talking about on the bus!”
Penny was right! I definitely remembered them talking about Kazoo as the hottest boutique in the city.
“We have to stop!” I announced.
“But we don’t have any time to check it out,” Penny said sadly.
I thought fast.
“What if we just run in, look around, and then leave without buying anything?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Penny said, looking at Pizza Kitty.
“We can run extra fast on the way back,” I begged with a pleading smile.
“Okay, okay,” she agreed. “But no trying on!”
“Yes!” I exclaimed.
We hurried into the store excitedly, but immediately stopped and looked around, confused. The store was full of…kazoos?!?!
“Welcome to Kazoo!” said a sales associate. “The hottest new pop-up kazoo store in the city.” He blew into a kazoo, making a loud whizzing noise, then handed us stickers with kazoos on them.
“Huh?” I asked. “Where are the clothes?”
“Oh, you’re thinking of Kazu, the clothing store,” he said, nodding. “That’s on the other side of town.”
Le sigh.
Penny pointed to the clock.
“We only have thirty minutes left to get to the City Museum!” she reminded me.
“Sounds like you’re in a rush!” the salesman said. “Why don’t you take one of our Ka-Zoom promotional vehicles behind the store. Just show the driver the sticker I gave you, and they’ll take you anywhere you want to go. It’s part of a new ad campaign directed at—”
But we had no time to listen to his pitch.
“Thanks!” I yelled as we ran into the alley behind the store and saw a fleet of small pedicabs with the Ka-Zoom logo.
We waved to the first driver we saw—who was kind of hard to miss.
He was dressed like a…wait for it…kazoo.
It was definitely attention-grabbing. I mean, it’s not every day you see someone in a kazoo costume pedaling down the street.
“Not another costumed character,” I whispered to Penny.
She laughed and showed him her sticker.
“Can you please take us to the City Museum as quickly as possible?” I asked.
“Sure thing!” he said. “Buckle up! It’s gonna be a funky ride.”
A funky ride? Was that good or bad? Penny and I looked at each other, confused.
But as soon as the vehicle started, we understood why. A symphony of kazoos began pounding through the sound system.
We covered our ears, and
Pizza Kitty pulled the top of my basket closed.
After what felt like an eternity, the Ka-Zoom stopped.
“This is as far as I’m allowed to go,” he said. “City noise-pollution ordinance.”
“Okay, we’ll get out here. Thanks!” I said. It was ten minutes till five p.m.
Penny and I got out and began to run toward the museum. We frantically counted the minutes as we went.
4:52…
4:53…
4:54…
4:55…
4:56…
Finally, we were just one block away. I was running so fast that I completely lost one of my flip-flops.
“Nooo!” I yelled.
In what felt like slow motion, I turned to grab my flip-flop. As I did so, I noticed the name of the street we were crossing.
“Peanut Street!” I shouted.
Pizza Kitty popped her head out of the basket and sniffed the air.
“This is your street, right, girl?” I asked her.
“Meow!” she meowed.
4:57…
There were rows of fancy brownstones on both sides of the street. I looked back for Penny, who was half a block behind me.
She was waving me on. “Go! Go!” she yelled.
4:58…
Finally, I made it to 1026 Peanut Street. This brownstone was identical to the others, except it had several colorful flowerpots in the entryway and a welcome mat that read “Meow.” This HAD to be the place.
If it wasn’t, Pizza Kitty would be heading home with me. Maybe my parents would let me keep her? She was way cuter than my little brother and probably not as annoying.
4:59…
Penny met me near the end of the block. We turned and ran back toward the museum.
“Did you find it?!” she asked, looking at my empty basket.
“Yes,” I said, gasping for air. “Her owner was thrilled.”
“Aw,” said Penny. “I’m glad she’s finally home.”
* * *
We got to the bus with seconds to spare. Ms. Painter was talking with the bus driver. Our classmates had just started forming a line by the door. Wilson and Georgie waved us over.
“Man, what happened to you two?” Wilson asked. I guess we were looking a little rough after our all-day adventure.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I told him.
“Check out the postcards I got,” he said, holding them out. It was then I remembered my art collection!
“Ms. Painter, I left something at the coat check!” I cried.
“Okay,” she said. “But please hurry. We really need to get going.”
I nodded and dashed into the building as fast as I could.
Of course, there was a long line at the coat check. (Was there a line for everything in this city?!) I waited impatiently as it dwindled down. Finally, it was my turn, and I thrust my number at the man behind the counter. He went to the back to locate my cubby, and after what felt like the longest ten seconds of my life, he reappeared with my tube in hand.
“Thanks!” I said, taking it like a baton in a relay race. I ran to the bus as fast as my feet could carry me.
When I finally got onto the bus, a horrible fishy smell hit my nose.
“What’s that smell?”
“Some kid left their tuna fish sandwich on the bus all day,” the driver grumbled.
Eek.
I slid into a seat next to Penny. But even the terrible smell couldn’t take the shine off my day. What an adventure!
I missed Pizza Kitty already.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the list. I crossed off “Peanut Street” and drew a little heart next to it.
Penny patted me on the shoulder. I could tell she felt the same way.
Ms. Painter walked up and down the aisle, counting students.
“Hmm,” she said. “Looks like we’re four students short….”
Just then, I heard yelling coming from outside. I looked out the window to see Felicia, Melinda, Belinda, and Berry running toward the bus. Their arms were full of shopping bags.
“I guess Kazu doesn’t have its own Ka-Zums,” Penny said with a smirk.
We got back to the school late, so there were no buses to take us home. Luckily, Mom came right on time. I hopped in and buckled up.
“Hey, Babymouse!” she said. “How was the big day?”
I thought of sweet Pizza Kitty.
I thought of my sore feet.
I thought of my poor broken Whiz Bang™ sitting in my basket and wondered what to say.
I thought for a moment.
“Penny and I had a great time exploring. We saw a lot of beautiful things.”
“That’s great!” Mom said. “What was the best part of the museum?”
I paused to think again.
“You know, I really liked the gift shop!” I replied truthfully.
“The gift shop, huh?” Mom mused. “I was wondering about those flip-flops. Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself!”
“I really did,” I said with a smile.
* * *
When we got home, I collapsed onto a kitchen chair.
Dad had saved me a plate of leftovers. It was…pizza.
Pizza Kitty.
>sniff<
After that, I was ready to call it a day. I showered, brushed my teeth and whiskers, put on my softest pajamas, and climbed into bed.
I smiled up at my Tommy H poster. (I knew I recognized that grin from somewhere!)
I was about to set my phone alarm, but then I remembered that my phone was completely shattered. Argh. I thought about all the warnings my parents had given me when I first got my Whiz Bang™. Maybe I would wait a little to tell them what happened (seeing as how I’d broken the first one not too long ago…).
I set the alarm on the digital clock on my nightstand. Then I immediately fell asleep.
* * *
When I got back to school the next day, I was actually happy to see Locker. I decorated it with the trinkets from my adventures with Penny.
Just then, I saw Felicia, Melinda, Belinda, and Berry coming out of the principal’s office. They did not look happy.
“I can’t believe we got a week’s worth of detention!” Felicia growled.
“And we didn’t even get to eat at the sushi place!” Melinda wailed. “Who knew we needed reservations?”
“Ugh,” Belinda said. “And no matinee show for Koalaton! What gives?”
“I know!” Berry groaned. “We have the worst luck in the world.”
I smiled but said nothing as they went by. Penny and I had decided to keep our little adventure a secret (from everyone but Wilson and Georgie, that is).
The day passed by painfully slowly. My legs were aching from all the walking we did the day before. My feet were still sore, too.
And for the first time ever, I was dreading art class. What if Ms. Painter asked us questions about the museum?!
Luckily, my friends helped me calm down.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Wilson asked during lunch. “They give you detention?”
“Yeah, that’s not so bad,” Georgie said. “Except you’d get stuck with Felicia and her friends all week. Ugh!”
I hadn’t thought of that. If I did end up with detention, I would technically get to hang out with the popular girls for a whole five days….
But no. I didn’t think even that would be worth it.
The bell rang. Time for art class.
When we walked into the room, we saw Ms. Painter holding a stack of papers.
“Oh no!” I whispered to Penny. “What do you think it could be?”
She met my eyes nervously. “I hope it’s not a pop quiz.”
“She’s probably going to make me write out my last will and testament,” I whispered.
“Okay, students,” Ms. P
ainter said. “Please take your seats.”
The chatter died down as everyone settled in and took out their supplies. The room got so quiet I could hear my heart beating.
“Obviously, we had a very exciting day yesterday,” she went on. “Some more exciting than others….”
She shot a look at Felicia, Melinda, Belinda, and Berry.
I let out a loud GULP.
“I thought that today we could use our class time to reflect on art—all kinds of art—and what it means to us.”
Georgie raised his hand, and Ms. Painter called on him.
“What do you mean by ‘all kinds of art’?” he asked.
“Good question, Georgie,” Ms. Painter said. “See, art isn’t just about famous paintings in a museum. It can be different things to different people.”
A lot of students looked confused.
Ms. Painter went on, “For example, to an architect, the museum itself could be considered a work of art. Or to an interior designer, the picture frames may be more interesting than what’s inside them. There is no right or wrong way to explore or appreciate what inspires us. That’s the beauty of art.”
All kinds of art. I thought about that.
It was then I realized that while I didn’t see a single piece of art in the museum, Penny and I had seen a lot of really beautiful art all over the city. It was ALL art, in a way.
Ms. Painter handed out sheets of paper, and I breathed a big sigh of relief. Things would be okay after all. I began to write and didn’t stop until the bell rang.
I had written almost a whole page about art in the world, using the stuff we’d seen in the gift shop—the tote bags, umbrellas, scarves, and so on—as examples of how art can make people happy and help them express themselves.
School-Tripped Page 5
