by Suzy Kline
Harry had his artwork on the wall. My favorite was the one completely covered with hundreds of green blades of grass. He used only one crayon. There were two holes in it for night crawlers. The art teacher had loved it!
Song Lee’s valentine with the red velvet bow was on his bulletin board. And the secret pal note I wrote to him in second grade was pinned next to it.
A huge collection of pencil stub people was in a shoebox. I noticed Harry had added a few, but Radio Man, with two gold button eyes and paper clip antennas, was always on top.
“Dougo!!”
“Be there in one sec, Harry!” I said.
And that was when I noticed something brand new up on his wall.
Something that was about to ruin my life!
Socked in the Stomach
“This new?” I said, pointing to the wooden plaque hanging on Harry’s wall. It had a gold-plated handsaw on top. His father’s name, Fred Spooger, was engraved on it. Just below were the words “Employee of the Year at Belcherville Hardware and Supply.”
“Yeah! Dad got it at a banquet last week and gave it to me. He knew I liked the gold handsaw.”
“Awesome!” I said, stepping over a long stuffed python and a crocodile to get to Harry.
I sat on my knees and squatted down next to him. Harry slowly lifted up his window with both hands. We poked our heads out just enough so we could spy into that mystery house’s backyard and hopefully . . . not be seen. Two ladies were trimming overgrown bushes with clippers. I looked down to the right, along Harry’s driveway. His parents were lying on the ground under his grandma’s red pickup truck just in front of their garage. All I could see were their legs and feet sticking out. They were both repairing something underneath the truck. Their open toolbox was nearby in the driveway.
“I’ve got some exciting news!” I finally said.
“What?” Harry’s eyes were still glued on the backyard action.
“There’s a new house for sale right across the street from me! It’s perfect for your family. Do you know yet when you might be able to buy a house?”
And that’s when Harry dropped the bomb.
“My parents bought a house already.”
“What? Where?”
Harry mumbled something.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Belcherville.”
“Belcherville?”
“It’s where my dad’s hardware store is. He’s a manager now.”
I felt like I just got socked in the stomach.
“Harry! That’s in another town! It might as well be another galaxy! We won’t be in fourth grade together!”
Harry wasn’t paying any attention. “Look, Dougo, that six-footer who was vacuuming . . . is digging up something in the backyard now!”
He was still looking out his window.
I tapped him on the shoulder.
Ten times!
“You’re moving?” I choked out.
Harry finally turned and looked at me. “Yeah, I am, but not until school is out, sometime next week.”
“Next week?” I repeated.
My eyes were bulging out of their sockets!
“We still have a few more days to do fun stuff and be detectives,” he added.
I shook my head back and forth . . .
I had no more words.
I just got up and headed for the door.
“Wait, Dougo! We’re about to crack the case of the mystery house!”
I felt like cracking him over the head with his long stuffed python! His moving was no biggie to him! Our friendship was over!
Sawed in half!
I made a face when I passed by that wooden plaque.
Belcherville?
As soon as I got outside, I kicked the kickstand as hard as I could and jumped onto my bike. Harry immediately showed up at the door. “Dougo! You can’t leave now. I know who that was vacuuming. You know her too!”
I didn’t even turn around when he shouted, “It’s Mrs. Bernbotham! The substitute teacher! She’s planting a tree in that hole!”
I kept pedaling as fast as I could, down the street and back to my house.
Harry’s Horrible News!
I didn’t feel like going to school on Monday, but Mom made me.
My life was over.
Harry was moving in two more days, and he acted like it didn’t even matter!
When I got to school, Harry ambushed me at the playground. He was carrying a rolled-up bag of Epsom salts. I figured it was for our teacher.
“Boy, did you miss out on the biggest mystery. Guess who moved in next door on Sunday?”
“Mrs. Bernbotham?” I moaned.
“Noooo! The Hammouds! They just came to America from Syria. A group of people from our town are sponsoring them. The older kids know some English already. I played with Mohammed in his backyard all weekend. He showed me where a mole and some gray tree frogs were living. I gave him some milkweed leaves from my yard just in case a caterpillar shows up.”
I looked down at the playground as I listened to Harry go on and on. He didn’t mention one single thing about our not being in fourth grade together.
“And they asked me to stay for lunch on Sunday. Mrs. Hammoud brought out a big round beautiful tray of food and set it on the floor! We all sat around it in a cool circle and used small pieces of flat bread to scoop up yogurt and scrambled eggs. It was delicious! There were green olives, tomato slices, and dates, too!”
Harry kept raving about his new neighbors.
“The four older ones will be coming to South School next fall. Mohammed is our age—he’ll be in fourth grade next year. Isn’t that cool?”
“Cool for who?” I snapped. “You won’t even be here.”
Just then Song Lee and Ida rushed over.
Sid was right behind them.
The girls were wearing skirts. Ida was busy doing pirouettes and twirling. Song Lee had on that lightbulb necklace and the wedding spider ring that Harry made for her.
He noticed right away.
“You look pretty!” Harry said, flashing a toothy smile.
Song Lee beamed.
“Want to play four square, guys?” Sid said. “I got a new ball from my stepdad.”
“No thanks,” I replied.
“Is something the matter, Doug?” Song Lee asked. “You look sad.”
As soon as she said that, my eyes got watery, so I wiped them quickly with my shirt sleeve. “Harry’s moving,” I said.
Song Lee covered her mouth. “Ohhhhhh no!”
Ida stopped dancing. “You’re moving?”
Sidney dropped his new ball. “Moving where?” he said, not even chasing it when it rolled.
“Belcherville.”
“Belcherville? That’s another town!” Sidney wrapped his arms around Harry and trapped him. “You can’t fly the coop, Harry the Canary!” he shouted. “I won’t let you go!”
Harry chuckled as he pressed his fist into Sid’s head. “Sid the Squid! You’re okay!”
Sidney suddenly let Harry go. “I won’t miss your knuckle noogies,” he groaned.
Song Lee’s eyes began to fill up with tears just as Mary joined us. Mary noticed Harry’s Epsom salts right away. “You’re not giving that to Mrs. Flaubert, are you?”
Harry tapped his bag. “Grandma uses these salts for her tired feet when she soaks in the tub. Our teacher will love them.”
Mary made a face. “A half-used bag?”
“Wanted to make sure they were good, Mare. They are!” he replied.
“Harry’s moving to Belcherville!” Sid interrupted.
Mary blew up her bangs. “Stop joking, Sidney LaFleur!” she replied. “It’s not funny.”
ZuZu and Dexter came over and joined us.
“Joking about wha
t?” ZuZu asked.
“Not joking,” Sidney said.
Harry made it history. “Sid’s right, Mare. I’m moving. Kind of exciting because my parents have been saving for a new house for a long time. You guys will have to come visit me this summer.”
“You’re moving?” Dexter groaned. “Man, we’re gonna have no fun without you!”
“You’ll bring the music!” Harry said. Then he and Dexter did some dance moves together.
“We’re supposed to be together in Mr. Ollie’s fourth grade class,” Mary objected. “He does all kinds of science. That’s your favorite subject, Harry, after recess and gym! Do you have to move? Can’t you convince your parents to let you stay with your grandma?”
“Mare . . .” Harry started dancing with her. “My dad is building me a clubhouse. You guys can come visit!”
When the morning bell rang, Song Lee lined up next to Harry and me. “I will miss you, Harry,” she said softly. “Will you write to me?”
Harry made his eyebrows go up and down. “Sure will!” he replied. “I’ll write you a poem—a second verse about brown.”
Song Lee couldn’t help but giggle. She remembered Harry’s color poem.
I remembered it too. His original verse said, “Feel the cow doo-doo cool off your piggies.”
As we filed into school for the last time that year, our teacher greeted us with a big smile. But I sure didn’t have one. My best friend might as well be moving to the moon. He was never going to be in my class again.
Ever!
And he wasn’t even sad about it.
The Last Day of Third Grade
That last half day we didn’t have to do any work. Most of the activities were fun except for the square dancing in the gym. I’m not crazy about that, but Harry loved dancing with Song Lee. Mrs. Flaubert put on rock-and-roll records so we could dance to those, too. Dexter played his guitar when it was an Elvis song.
Harry got to go around South School and say goodbye to people like Mr. Cardini, the principal, Mr. Scooghammer, our computer teacher, and Mr. Beausoleil, our custodian. Harry said he kissed Mrs. Funderburke, our cook, and Mrs. Michaelsen, the librarian, on their hands. Harry said they were like royalty.
We played the old board games that were kept in our classroom closet for forty-seven years. Monopoly with the wooden hotels and houses was the most popular. Clue with the real rope and metal pipe was second. Lots of kids just wanted to draw. Every time I looked over, Harry wasn’t sad at all. He was having fun and laughing most of the time.
Hardy har har, I thought.
But I didn’t laugh once.
Mary’s mom brought in five cheese pizzas and some island punch. Mary said she persuaded her mom to add a sixth gourmet pizza. That one had eggplant on it and looked gross!
Mary and the teacher were the only ones who took a slice of it. (And Mr. Cardini, who stopped in to wish everyone a great summer.)
Mrs. Flaubert loved her gift certificate and our class card. She even loved Harry’s Epsom salts, and his note that said she was the best teacher in the universe. It must have had one hundred silver and gold stars on it.
In return, Mrs. Flaubert gave Harry the tarantula poster that our class won on field day. Mary was psyched to get rid of that hairy picture. Harry said he’d hang it up in his new bedroom. When the teacher handed it to him, he gave her a bear hug.
“I love you, Miss Mackle,” he said.
The teacher didn’t even correct him. She just said, “I love you too, Harry.”
Lots of kids made cards for Harry that day. Song Lee’s was the best. It had flowers and hearts on it. She even made little windows on the card that opened up and had pictures of all the creepy crawly things Harry had brought to class, like Charles the spider and Edward the earwig.
I was too bummed to make Harry a card.
He didn’t say he was going to miss me or anything. He just played with different kids all morning.
Instead of celebrating the end of school, we left class that day barely talking. I thought Harry might call me that night, but he didn’t. Mom said he was probably busy packing. She said it was a lot of work to move.
On Thursday morning, Harry finally called.
Harry Says Goodbye
Thursday morning, Mom handed me the phone.
“It’s Harry,” she whispered.
I grabbed it and said hi right away.
“Hey, Dougo,” Harry said. “Can you come over? We’re getting ready to go to Belcherville and I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Come over now?” I asked.
“Yes!”
Mom nodded.
“Sure!” I said. I missed him already, and it had just been two days.
“Neato,” Harry replied. “I’ll be waiting.”
I raced outside and jumped onto my bike.
As I pedaled by the school, I looked at the empty lot next to it. Harry was the one who first asked the teacher if that could be a nature area. He got all of us involved, and now it was one! Anybody could visit the kingdom of mushrooms there, or even see Harry’s old hideout. I couldn’t imagine life without him.
There were memories of Harry everywhere!
Even yesterday when we were at the grocery store, and Mom was getting herself a cup of coffee. Right when she opened up a small plastic creamer, I thought of Harry. He had given one to Song Lee for the dragon she made. It was an “I’m sorry” gift for saying her papier-mâché dragon was stupid.
As I rounded the corner to Harry’s house, I spotted two vehicles parked out in front. When I got closer, I could see his parents were already in the car. It was loaded down with lots of stuff. Grandma Spooger was in her red truck waiting. The back was packed with boxes, a broom, a vacuum cleaner, and Harry’s big stuffed animals. The Goog was in a cat carrier next to Harry on the stoop. He was sitting there, waiting for me. There was something in Harry’s hand. I had something in my pocket.
I skidded to a stop and dropped my bike.
Harry jumped up and hugged me.
“Dougo!” he exclaimed.
“Harry!” I said, hugging him back.
We didn’t let go.
The Goog kept meowing and peeking out of his carrier.
“I didn’t want to say goodbye to you,” Harry said. “I kept putting it off. It was easier not to talk about it. All I had to do was think about something else. But now that it’s time for me to go . . . it feels really . . . horrible.”
Harry’s voice shook a little.
I could tell he was going to miss me.
But I couldn’t say anything. I knew if I did, I’d start crying. I wanted to be brave like one of Harry’s spiders that lived in caves.
We finally sat down on his grandma’s stoop, but just for a moment. He handed me a piece of paper that was folded in half. It had one gold star on it.
Then he put his arm around me.
“Read it later, Dougo,” he said. “I’m sorry about the one star. I wanted to use a thousand, but I ran out.”
“No problem,” I said. “One is cool.”
Harry tapped fists with me.
“Come on, Bud!” Mr. Spooger called out. “Time to get this show on the road! You and Doug can plan lots of sleepovers this summer.”
“I’m coming!” Harry hollered back. Then he gave me one last knuckle noogie, picked up the cat carrier, and headed for the truck.
Just as I got up, I remembered I had something for him, too.
“Wait, Harry!” I yelled, and ran after him. Harry immediately stopped and turned around.
The Goog was still meowing. He hated being cooped up!
I reached deep into my pocket and pulled out my Safety Patrol Cadet badge. “We were supposed to be cadets together in fourth grade, remember?” I said. “I want you to have mine. So here’s one star for you!”
“That’s the coolest thing!” Harry said, pinning it on himself right away. “It reminds me of the bronze star my great granddad got in World War II. Thanks, Dougo. You’re the best!”
“No,” I said. “You are!”
Harry wiped his eyes as he took off. He jumped in the cab of his grandma’s truck and rolled down the window. “See ya soon!” he yelled.
“See ya . . . soon.” I waved as they pulled away from the curb and headed for Belcherville.
I slowly walked back up the stone path to his house and plopped down on his grandma’s stoop. Then I unfolded Harry’s short note and read it. It was only one sentence.
And that was when I bawled.
Harry was gone.
I sat there for ten long minutes on his grandma’s stoop, just feeling sad. It was too hard to leave.
When I finally looked up, a tall, dark-haired boy about my age was walking toward me. He was holding a small box.
“Harry here?” he asked with a big smile.
“No. He’s . . . gone. Did you move in next door?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in there?” I said, pointing to his box. There were little holes on top.
The boy sat down next to me and removed the lid.
“A caterpillar!” I said.
“Caterpillar,” the boy repeated.
The box had milkweed leaves and a purple flower inside, with a capful of water. He was taking good care of it.
“My name is Doug,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Mohammed,” he answered. Then he handed me his box so I could take a closer look.
He trusted me.
Making a new friend felt really good.
“Harry likes creepy crawly things,” I said.
Mohammed nodded and smiled.
He did too!
“You’re going to be in fourth grade with me,” I added. “That’s so cool!”
