by Lisa Yee
The lily pond looked like a mirror reflecting the white clouds and blue sky. Floating on the top of the water were pads of green leaves and bright fuchsia flowers. Giant koi glided silently just below the surface of the pond. “Some of the fish are over a hundred years old,” Holly said, reading the sign. She snapped another photo.
St. James tossed a rock into the water. Ripples made their way to the banks as the koi scattered.
“Hey, stop that,” Holly ordered.
“Who’s going to make me?” St. James picked up another rock and held it over his head. Mrs. Zarr was far off in the distance.
“We are!” Jillian Zarr joined Holly.
St. James pretended to quiver. “Ooooh, I’m sooooo scared. Tell them, Bobby. Tell them we can do whatever we want!”
“Um, St. James,” Bobby said apologetically, “Holly’s right. You really shouldn’t do that.”
For a split second St. James looked wounded. “Whose side are you on?” he demanded. His face turned red as he stabbed the dirt with the heel of his shoe. St. James threw the rock into the bushes and stormed off.
As the group made its way toward the Jungle Garden, Bobby caught up with him to explain. “Sorry about that, but I have a pet fish, Rover. It’s just that I wouldn’t want anyone throwing a rock at him. I mean, that would really upset him. Or he could get hurt.”
Jillian Zarr butted into the conversation. “Goldfish are stupid.”
Bobby stood up straight. “Rover may look like an average fish, but once you get to know him, he’s special. He can follow commands and do tricks, plus he’s a great listener!”
“Like I’d have anything to say to a fish!” Jillian Zarr scoffed.
St. James threw a handful of leaves in her direction as she strutted away. He turned toward Bobby. “We have a tabby cat named Tabitha. But she doesn’t do anything but hide and come out to eat.”
“Rover can do a complete underwater flip and his zigzag is amazing,” Bobby boasted. He watched Jillian Zarr whispering to Holly.
Chess joined the boys and nodded. “You should see Rover zigging and zagging. Hey, let’s act like Rover and zigzag to the Jungle Garden!”
“Race you there,” St. James shouted.
As they took off, they could hear Mrs. Zarr calling, “Boys! Boys, please, we’re supposed to stick together!”
The boys ran in different directions, met up, and split up again, laughing the whole time. Bobby felt like he was flying. He put his arms out to his sides so he would be more aerodynamic. What could be more fun than this?
Bobby loved field trips.
Bobby hated field trips. Where did everyone go?
The Jungle Garden was huge. Weird shrubs and sinister vines were everywhere. Bobby hoped there weren’t any cheetahs or apes nearby. Annie had once forced him to watch a scary movie featuring apes who had taken over the earth. It didn’t end well.
Bobby soon realized that if he was going to be rescued, he needed to be found first. That’s when he had a brilliant idea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the minty muffin. Like Hansel and Gretel, he could leave a trail of crumbs behind him!
When the muffin was gone, Bobby searched his pockets again, but this time he pulled out only bits of lint. As he dropped them on the ground, he noticed that the plants were so dense and the trees were so tall they blocked the sunlight. Bobby began to panic. Maybe no one would find the bits of minty muffin, the scraps of lint, or him — ever.
At last, Bobby stumbled into a clearing. Something smelled bad. Really bad. Like really, really, really bad. Bobby looked around to see if someone had farted. He had never smelled anything that bad before. It was worse than the old lady with the blue hair at church who wore way too much perfume.
Just as he was about to turn on his heels and flee, he saw IT.
The Koloff tree was much smaller than Bobby had imagined. The trunk was yellow-greenish, with layers of peeling bark. Beautiful white flowers bloomed all over its branches. However, according to Mrs. Carlson, the flowers were what produced its horrible smell — and that, Bobby realized, was what he was smelling at that very moment.
Like Bobby’s drawing, the tree looked sad. It probably didn’t get many visitors. There weren’t any plants close by. Even the birds kept their distance. But Bobby was drawn toward the tree. He held his breath as he studied its flowers. Their petals were in full bloom and looked incredibly thick and sturdy, yet soft at the same time. In the center of each flower was a small bulb that resembled an orange JawBlaster candy cracked open. Despite the smell, the Koloff tree was really wondrous, like something out of Princess Becky’s Planet.
If only people could get past the stink, Bobby thought, then they’d know what a special tree this is.
Without thinking, he opened his arms and gave the Koloff tree a huge hug. “Don’t worry, stinky tree,” he whispered. “I’ll be your friend.”
After a moment, Bobby stiffened. The tree smelled even worse up close, but when he attempted to step back, his arms remained tight around the trunk. The harder he tried to get away, the more stuck he got. The sticky stuff was all over his shirt. It was on his arms. The foul smell was making him ill. Scary thoughts began to bubble in Bobby’s brain.
What if no one ever finds me?
What if I am stuck here forever?
What if I have to go to the bathroom?
Why did I drink so much milk at breakfast?
“Help! Someone help me!” he cried.
* * *
The time dragged by. Bobby tried to pull free occasionally, but the tree’s sap had started to harden, holding him even more firmly. This was a million times worse than the static cling that made socks and other clothing stick to the Ellis-Chan family.
As the day wore on, Bobby started to get used to the stink. He wished he could sit down, but of course that was impossible. To pass the time, he told the Koloff tree about his family and his grandparents and Rover. Just as Bobby was recounting the time his dad accidentally left him behind at Pizza Palace, he heard someone yell, “Robert Carver Ellis-Chan, leave that tree alone!”
What?!?!
Holly stood at the entrance to the clearing. Jillian Zarr and her mother were right behind her. They all had their hands on their hips.
“Bobby, please step away from the tree,” Mrs. Zarr said. He could tell from the pinched look on her face that she was trying not to act upset.
“I can’t,” he said weakly.
“Stop kidding around,” Holly ordered. She snapped a photo of Bobby hugging the tree.
“I can’t let go.” Bobby raised his voice. “I’m stuck!”
Chess and St. James appeared behind the girls. St. James was dragging a huge dried-up palm leaf.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Chess asked. He pointed a big stick at Bobby. “You’re not hugging that tree, are you?”
Jillian Zarr held her nose. “He claims he’s stuck.”
Chess circled the Koloff tree, examining Bobby from every angle. “He really is stuck,” he reported. “Oh, wow, it stinks! Holly, did you fart?”
Holly glared at Chess with such force that he jumped backward.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Zarr murmured as she held a tissue over her nose. “Oh dear, oh my. Oh dear, oh my.”
Everyone was holding their noses but Bobby. He was holding a tree.
St. James suggested, “How about we pull him off?” He and Chess came close and yanked on the back of Bobby’s shirt. But Bobby didn’t budge and neither did the Koloff tree.
“This is not good.” Mrs. Zarr’s voice was getting higher. “Not good at all.”
“Wait, I’ve got it!” Chess lit up. “Let’s dig up the tree and Bobby can just take it with him.”
Bobby imagined himself and the Koloff tree playing with Rover.
Bobby imagined himself and the Koloff tree skateboarding.
Bobby imagined himself and the Koloff tree trick-or-treating.
He let out a loud pitiful groan.
“Maybe,” J
illian Zarr interrupted, “we ought to just leave him here.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Holly agreed.
“You boys stay with Bobby,” Mrs. Zarr said. She was positively squeaking. “Girls, you come with me. We’re going for help.”
* * *
When Mrs. Carlson entered the clearing and saw Bobby hugging the Koloff tree, she came to a dead halt. Her mouth hung open and she held her nose. So did the entire population of Room 15 and all the parent volunteers. It was like they were playing Simon Says and Mrs. Carlson was the leader.
Finally, Bobby broke the silence. “It was an accident.”
Mrs. Carlson began to cry. Bobby’s throat tightened. Sure, people cried all the time at school. There wasn’t a recess when someone wasn’t crying. But a teacher crying was unheard of. Did it mean he’d be stuck to a tree forever?
Then he heard a familiar sound — a snort. Mrs. Carlson wasn’t crying; she was laughing! Soon everyone in the clearing was doubled over in hysterics. Bobby shut his eyes.
“Well, this really isn’t funny. It’s very serious,” Mrs. Carlson said as she wiped away her tears. “Are you all right, Bobby? I’m so sorry I laughed, it’s just that … well, this is not the sort of thing I see every day.”
Before he could respond, Mrs. Zarr came running back. She was still panting as she began to babble to Mrs. Carlson. “He ran away — couldn’t stop him — boy is dangerous — his father too!”
As Mrs. Carlson attempted to calm Mrs. Zarr down, a sturdy woman wearing a green shirt and brown pants approached. She didn’t act surprised to see him stuck to a tree. “Bobby, I’m Lacy. I’m a naturalist here. Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“Fine,” he fibbed.
On Mrs. Carlson’s orders, Mrs. Zarr and the other parent volunteers herded the kids away. Mrs. Carlson stayed behind. Lacy started taking bottles out of her knapsack. “Bobby, this will unstick you, all right?”
His stomach filled with worry. What was it? Some sort of poison? As if reading his mind, Lacy reassured him, “It’s just shampoo.” She tucked her long red hair under her hat. “I’m going to pour it on you and then we’ll slide you off. This won’t hurt you or the tree.” She opened a couple of the bottles. “By the way, how did you get stuck?”
“There was a snake chasing me, and I was running so fast I didn’t see the tree,” Bobby said in a rush. “I couldn’t stop because I had picked up so much speed, and then, SMACK! I was stuck.”
Lacy smiled gently. “Bobby, were you hugging the tree?”
“Yes,” he admitted. His cheeks burned.
Lacy laughed as she began pouring shampoo over him. It was slippery and warm. “I thought so. The Koloff tree gets about one hugger a month.”
“Really?”
“Really. Usually there’s a fence around it, but it’s being repaired. Want to know a secret?” Bobby nodded. “I got stuck to the Koloff tree too,” Lacy confessed.
For the first time since being stuck, Bobby was able to smile.
* * *
On the bus ride back to school, not only did Bobby get a window seat, he had five rows all to himself.
The first thing Bobby did when he got home was run upstairs and tell Rover, “You won’t believe what happened!”
Casey poked her head into the room. “Daddy says to hurry up and take a bath. Here, Bobby,” she said, handing him something.
He looked down, surprised. “But this is yours.”
Casey nodded. “Yes, but you need it more than me.”
Bobby took the Princess Becky bubble bath. “Thanks, Casey.”
His little sister smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, Bobby. But I have to go now. You smell like poop.”
For the next few days Jillian Zarr and her wolf pack held their noses whenever they saw Bobby. A couple of fifth-grade boys called him a “tree hugger,” but Bobby shrugged it off. “There are worse things you can call a person,” he explained to Rover one evening. “Besides, when I left, I think the Koloff tree stood a little straighter.”
Soon enough the drama of Bobby being stuck to a tree blew over and was replaced with new excitement. “We will be voting for our student council representative next week,” Mrs. Carlson told the class as she collected their election essays. Bobby had worked very hard on his and had even drawn an American flag on the front page — only he had added too many stars and had to cross some out. “And that means that today we will have nominations.”
Bobby glanced up from his notebook. He had been doodling a picture of Rover playing with his ball. No one knew about Rover’s supersecret soccer-playing abilities — yet. Bobby planned to put on a big show for his family and debut Rover’s amazing talents. Maybe he’d even make posters and serve popcorn, Bobby mused. Rover was doing so well, he’d be ready in about a week or so. He didn’t even need Wandee that much anymore.
Mrs. Carlson brought Bobby out of his daydream. “Right, Bobby?”
“Huh?”
“The student council is very important,” she repeated.
“Um, yes. Right,” he said, nodding vigorously to make up for not paying attention.
“Good,” his teacher said. “After recess we’ll have nominations. So be thinking of who you’d like to represent Room 15 at student council meetings.”
As the boys waited their turns on the handball court, Chess said, “I would run, but chess club takes up all of my time.”
Chess had recently started the club and appointed himself president. So far the only members were him and an intense fifth-grade girl who didn’t like to lose. Chess had been trying to recruit Bobby, first by begging, then with threats. “If you don’t join and it’s just me and that girl, I may throw up every day, and it would be all your fault.”
Still, Bobby refused. He didn’t want Chess to know that he always got the bishop and the rook mixed up. Or was it the castle and the knight? The only thing he knew for sure was that the short ones were the prawns.
“What about you?” St. James asked as he tossed the handball to Bobby.
“What about me?” Bobby hit the ball as hard as he could. Handball didn’t make him nearly as nervous as other sports like soccer or baseball, where, if you messed up, people got mad at you.
“You should run for student council,” St. James said as he returned the serve with a slam so hard that Bobby ducked.
Bobby scrambled to hit it back. “Why me?”
Whomp! St. James returned the ball. “ ’Cause everyone likes you.”
The handball hit Bobby in the shoulder and bounced away, but he hardly noticed. He was too busy thinking about what St. James just said.
Bobby went to the end of the line.
“Yeah, Bobby,” Jackson jumped in. “You should definitely run for student council rep. You’re not the best at anything, but not the worst. So no one’s threatened by you. You’re just there.”
“Uh, thanks, I guess,” Bobby said. He imagined his campaign slogan: Bobby. He’s just there.
“You’ve gotta run,” St. James insisted as he waited his turn to play again. “Otherwise some girl might be our class rep, and we can’t have that!”
“NO GIRLS!” the boys yelled.
“Girls stink!” St. James shouted and kicked his foot into the air.
“Bobby stinks!” Jillian Zarr yelled back from near the tetherball poles. She held her nose.
As St. James and Jillian Zarr continued to fling insults at each other, Bobby considered running for rep. It would be cool to be elected. Plus everyone knew that there were unlimited free donuts at student council meetings. He wondered if they had the glazed buttermilk kind. Glazed was good, but glazed buttermilks were the best.
After recess, his heart beat a little faster when Mrs. Carlson wrote N-o-m-i-n-a-t-i-o-n-s on the board. “Okay, class, who would like to go first?”
Everyone looked around expectantly. Finally, St. James stood and placed his hand over his heart. “I, St. James Odysseus Plunkett, would hereby and so forth and lawfully an
d herewith upon my constitution pledge on my honor —”
“St. James,” Mrs. Carlson cut in, “is there someone you would like to nominate?”
“Him!” St. James pointed. “Bobby Ellis-Chan!”
Bobby felt the heat of everyone staring at him.
“Bobby,” said Mrs. Carlson, “do you accept St. James’s nomination?”
He nodded.
Mrs. Carlson wrote B-O-B-B-Y on the board. It looked good up there. Bobby imagined himself winning. Maybe he’d have business cards like his mom.
“Who else would like to nominate someone?” Mrs. Carlson asked. When no one spoke up, she said, “All right, then. If there are no other nominees, Bobby will run unopposed and automatically become Room 15’s student council representative!”
Bobby squeezed his eyes shut and imagined himself holding a plate piled high with glazed buttermilk donuts. Just as he was about to take a bite, someone shouted, “I nominate Holly Harper!”
Instantly, the donuts disappeared. Bobby opened his eyes to see Mrs. Carlson reaching for her marker. “Holly, do you accept Jillian’s nomination?”
“I accept,” Holly announced loudly and clearly.
The girls cheered.
“Any other nominations? This is the last call.” Mrs. Carlson looked around the room. “Okay! It’s official. Bobby and Holly are our candidates. You each have one week to campaign. The elections will take place next Tuesday.”
“I’m voting for Holly,” a girl said.
“Bobby has my vote,” a boy promised.
Everyone in the class was talking all at once. Everyone but Bobby and Holly. They just glanced at each other, then turned away.
Well, what are we going to do?” Chess asked.
“About what?” Bobby slid over to make room for him at the lunch table.
“As your campaign manager, I’m telling you we need a plan.” As usual, Chess was having a cheese sandwich on Wonder Bread. He had eaten the same thing for lunch every day since kindergarten. The only time it changed was when his grandmother visited from India. Then he’d eat his cheese sandwich on chapati bread.
