“Heyyy,” he said, grinning like a horse.
Stella glowered over Tito’s shoulder, giving me a look that made Bozo’s stink eye look like a Valentine’s card.
I shrugged. What could I do?
Then I heard a familiar sound in the distance. I turned to look down the street.
Boooom … boooom … boooom.
Tito heard it, too, and nodded his head to the beat, playing it cool. He lifted the grocery bag toward Stella. “I brought you a birfday present.”
Stella gave him a long stare. “Brifday?”
“Yeah.” He winked. “Happy birfday… Stel-lah.”
Good grief.
Stella eyed the bag.
Boooom … boooom … boooom.
Across the street Bozo and Frankie Diamond sprang to their feet, their eyes glued to the big pink car rumbling closer.
Tito jiggled the grocery bag.
Stella didn’t take it. “What’s in it?”
“A present. I got um for you at the store. Some kids had a box of them. I got it free.”
Stella hesitated, then took the bag.
The pink car thumped closer.
Boooom … boooom … boo-
The radio went off as Clarence pulled up and parked his pink supertanker in our driveway.
Stella peeked into the bag.
“Yahhh!” she shrieked. “Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Clarence stumbled out of the car and ran over. He grabbed the bag from Stella. Stella ran back into the house, the screen door slapping and echoing down the river.
Tito stood frozen, confused, gaping.
I gaped, too, wondering what the spit was in that bag.
Clarence peeked in, then looked up at Tito.
Tito blinked.
Clarence reached gently into the brown paper grocery bag and came out with a fluffy white kitten, so small it fit into his hand like a parakeet. He scratched the kitten’s chin, his eyes still on Tito. “Who you, boy?”
“Uh … me … uh … uh … I go Calvin’s school. He’s my friend, ah, Calvin? We friends, right?”
I nodded. “Sure, uh … yeah.” It was that or get strangled next time I see Tito.
Clarence turned toward the house. Stella stood in the front window looking out, holding a dishrag over her nose and mouth.
“Stella,” Clarence said, turning back to Tito. “She’s allergic to cats.”
“Oh.”
Clarence studied Tito, petting the white kitten.
Tito cleared his throat. “Well… I go now.” He looked at the kitten. “What I going do with that?”
“I take it,” Clarence said. “Give it to my sister.”
“Yeah-yeah, good, give um your sister, good.” Tito backed away. He nodded to me once to remind Clarence we really were good friends, and when he reached Bozo and Frankie Diamond in the weeds, they took off like spooked mongooses.
Clarence nodded to me. Hey.
Hey, I nodded back.
“You got a small box I can use?”
“I’ll go see.” I ran into the garage. There was an old shoe box. “This okay?”
“Perfect.”
Clarence took the box and gently set the kitten in it.
He handed the box to me. “Hold this a minute, ah? I got something for Stella in the car.”
I took the shoe box, careful not to touch the kitten. If any cat got on me, Stella might swell up again. Luckily, the kitten curled up and went to sleep.
Clarence stopped by the spigot on the side of the house. Water gushed out and splashed his feet. He squatted on his heels and washed his hands, over and over. When he was done, he stood and wiped them on his shorts.
When he saw me watching, he flicked his eyebrows. “Cat.”
I nodded.
Clarence headed for his car and brought out a bunch of flowers and six papayas, the best I’d ever seen.
He gave them to Stella, then drove away.
Boooom… boooom… boooom.
26
Hearts
“That night we celebrated Stella’s birthday.
Mom cooked up Stella’s favorite dinner and invited Ledward and Clarence over. Clarence couldn’t come because he had to take his little sister to hula class.
But Ledward came, and the minute he walked into the house, Mom grabbed his arm and steered him into the kitchen. I was sticking candles into the cake Mom had brought home that said HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN.
Mom pushed a wrapped gift into Ledward’s hands. “This is for Stella. It’s from you.”
Ledward took the present and played along.
“And this one is from me,” Mom said, handing him another one. “Would you take them out and put them next to her plate on the table?”
Mom had tied white helium balloons to Stella’s chair, and though Stella tried to look embarrassed when we all sat down, I could tell that she really didn’t mind. She even smiled.
Mom and Ledward sat at opposite ends of the table. Darci and I sat in the middle, across from Stella.
Mom took some spaghetti and passed the bowl around. “Did your mom call you this afternoon, Stella?”
Stella hesitated. “No … not yet.”
“Well, maybe she’ll call tonight.”
Stella nodded. “Maybe.”
Maybe not, I thought. When Stella first moved in with us Mom said Stella and her mom needed a break from each other. They never seemed to call each other.
Ledward spun spaghetti onto his fork. “When I was sixteen, I moved furniture. Hardest work I ever did.”
Stella said nothing.
Ledward took a bite, chuckling, thinking back. “Every birthday I ever had, my moms made me a coconut cake. Nowadays, I still love coconut cake.”
Mom smiled. “Well, then, you’d fit right in here at the Coconut home.”
“I like that thought.”
What?
Ledward looked at Mom, shylike. “I mean—”
“So,” Mom said, turning to Stella. “How does it feel to be sixteen?”
Stella shrugged. “I can get a driver’s license.”
“You sure can,” Mom said.
For a moment nobody spoke.
We finished eating.
Mom reached over and tapped my hand. “Grab some of these plates and come with me.”
I followed her into the kitchen and set the plates by the sink. Mom handed me a book of matches. “Light them up.”
We sang “Happy Birthday,” the candle glow wobbling on Stella’s face. When she blew out the candles, I watched to see that she didn’t spit all over the cake.
Mom nodded toward Stella’s gifts. “Looks like you got a couple of presents. I wonder who they’re from?”
Stella reached for one and tore off the wrapping paper. “Thank you!” she said, lifting the gold necklace Mom had gotten her out of its long box. “It’s beautiful!”
Mom beamed. “It will look great on you.”
Stella put it on. “I love it.”
Darci pushed the other present toward Stella. “This one’s from Ledward.”
Stella opened it and looked up.
“Uh—uh,” Ledward stammered. “That’s uh … that’s uh … a book about… uh.”
“It’s a book about her life,” Mom said smoothly. “One she will write herself. What a nice thought, Ledward. Every girl needs a journal.”
“Yeah,” Ledward said. “You write it.”
Stella eyed Ledward like, Right. “Thank you,” she said.
“No problem.”
Mom turned to me. “Calvin, did you get something for Stella, too?” Her frozen smile said, You’re toast if you didn’t.
“Me and Darci got her one together.”
“Darci and I got her one,” Mom said.
“You and Darci got her one, too?” I said.
“Let’s just see what you have, Calvin.”
It was on the floor under my chair. I picked it up and gave it to Stella. She read the card, smiled, and showed it to Mom.
Mom beamed. “This is so sweet.”
Stella reached across the table and touched Darci’s hand. “It’s a really nice card, Darci. You made it, right?”
“Calvin did some of it, too.”
Stella took the card back and squinted at it. “Oh … yeah … I see he signed it.”
“Hardy-har.”
Stella picked up the birthday present wrapped in Valentine’s Day paper. She looked at me. “Hearts?”
I shrugged.
“Love must be in the air,” Ledward said, and winked.
“Not!” I spat.
“Ledward,” Mom said.
He held up his hands, grinning.
Mom turned back to Stella. “What did Calvin give you?”
“It’s from Darci, too,” I muttered.
Stella unwrapped it, slowly at first. But when she got a glimpse of what was inside, she ripped the paper away, grabbed the CD, and raised it above her head. “Yes!”
Mom looked at me, then back at Stella. “What is it?”
“The new Chris Botti CD! The one I wanted!”
Mom turned back to me, confused. “How did—”
“The weeds… and some other stuff.”
Mom’s eyes flooded. “Oh, Calvin.”
Stella hugged Chris Botti. She looked at him again, and kissed him.
It was starting to freak me out. I turned to Ledward.
Ledward pushed his chair back. “Uh … how’s about you and me go do the dishes.”
27
New Stella
The next morning in the kitchen Stella lurked over me as I took my time with a bowl of crunchy Grape-Nuts.
“Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “Your mom bought that CD for you to give to me. I mean, you didn’t actually think of it yourself, right?”
“I thought of it. I saw your poster and—”
“You went into my room?”
“Uh … when I woke you up I saw it.”
Stella eyed me.
“I bought it with my own money, too,” I added.
“What money?”
“I had some.”
Stella pinched her jaw, still looking at me.
“What?” I said.
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth.”
“Do I look like I would lie?”
Stella laughed. “Cute comeback.”
“So how’d she like it?” Willy asked at school.
“She thinks my mom bought it for me to give to her.”
Willy frowned. “Well, that stinks.”
That evening after an early dinner Mom told Darci and me to brush our teeth, then she sat on the couch with a magazine and the pillow from her bed.
I nudged Darci. “Watch. She’ll be asleep in five minutes.”
We squeezed toothpaste onto our toothbrushes and crowded around the bathroom sink. Stella appeared in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
I stopped brushing, and with foamy white toothpaste bubbling over my lips, garbled, “Wha—do—you—ont?”
“You and Darci want to hear something?”
I spat and dipped my head under the tap. “What is it?”
“Come to my room when you’re done.”
Stella left.
Darci and I glanced at each other. I spun circles around my ear with my finger. Darci giggled.
We crept down the hall to Stella’s room. The door was open. Stella was lying across her bed with her feet on the wall, staring up at Chris Botti. Clarence’s flowers were in a vase on the windowsill. They glowed against the dusky sky.
“You can come in,” she said, without even looking to see that we were there. “Sit. Better yet, lie down.”
Darci and I sprawled on the floor. This is weird, I thought.
Stella rolled off her bed and went over to her CD player. Music came on. “This is Chris Botti.”
We listened. The music was nice. Peaceful.
“When’s he going to sing?” I asked.
“He’s a trumpet player, not a singer.”
“Oh.”
The music made me sleepy. But I liked the clean sound of Chris Botti’s trumpet. It made me think of the ocean.
“It makes me want to cry,” Stella whispered.
I looked up. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
We listened.
When Stella saw that Darci had fallen asleep, she sighed and knelt to lift her up and carry her to her room. She stopped and looked down at me. “I know your mom didn’t buy this CD for you to give to me.”
“You do?”
“She told me.”
This was so strange. Stella was talking like a nice person, and not calling me names. I hoped she would never-ever-ever hear anything about Zippy and her pillow. That was over. Gone. Done.
Chris Botti played on.
“You can listen to the whole thing if you want.”
I did.
In fact, I almost fell asleep, too.
Sometime later, Stella nudged me with her foot. “I didn’t say you could sleep in here, honey.”
28
Kitty, Kitty
I got up and stumbled out to my room.
Hatchet lay where I’d tossed it on my lower bunk. I grabbed it and looked out the window. The dark mountains were sharp against the glow of the sun setting on the other side of the island. Maybe a half hour of sunlight left.
I took the book outside and sat on the grass. Something moving in the weeds across the street caught my eye. It was black, and fat. Aw, man.
“Git!” I hissed. “Go home!”
Zippy slouched out of the weeds, ignoring me.
I shook my head and went back to Hatchet.
This is so strange, I thought. Stella picked this book out for me. Not only that, from the way Mom made it sound, she’d actually put some thought into choosing it, too.
I stared at the cover. Smelled the new pages.
What a crazy few days: the watermelon dress, me and Zippy ruining Stella’s date with Clarence, collecting cans, getting robbed, making shave ice, Chris Botti’s red hearts, and Tito’s kitten. Man oh man.
I remembered what Ledward had said about his old jeep, too: If it’s broke, fix it. That’s all.
I opened Hatchet and started reading.
It was good. I liked it.
The more I read, the wider my eyes got, because Hatchet was the ultimate fix-it story.
I looked up and smiled when I realized that something was missing—the crummy feeling.
I yawned.
Then nearly fell over when I saw that Zippy had sneaked past me and was cruising toward the house.
I scrambled up. “Scat! Get out of here!”
Zippy took off, heading toward the back of the house.
“Zippy, stop! Here kitty, kitty!”
He scooted around the corner.
“Come back here!”
I found him crouching in the weeds … right under Stella’s open window.
“Zippy,” I whispered.
I crouched, too, and tried to be still, to stop scaring him. Chris Botti drifted smoothly out the window.
“It’s me, Zippy. Remember?
The one who always saves you? You owe me, Zip. Come here.”
Zippy eyed me.
I inched closer and scooped him up, then sprinted to the front of the house. I dumped him in the weeds across the street. “Go home! Git!”
Zippy headed into the bushes.
Thirty seconds later he swaggered back out and plopped down in the middle of the road.
“Come on, Zip,” I pleaded. “Give me a break.”
I promise, this really happened: Zippy grinned at me.
True fact.
A Hawaii Fact:
Hawaii’s state fish is the reef triggerfish, or Rhinecanthus rectangulus. But in Hawaii we call it by its real name: humuhumunukunukuapua‘a.
A Calvin Fact:
A cockroach can live for weeks with its head cut of
f. After a while, it dies of starvation.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2009 by Graham Salisbury
Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Jacqueline Rogers
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Wendy Lamb Books, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Wendy Lamb Books and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Salisbury, Graham.
Calvin Coconut : the Zippy fix / Graham Salisbury; illustrated by Jacqueline Rogers.
—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Calvin tries to earn money to buy Stella, the babysitter, a present for her
sixteenth birthday because he feels guilty for taking advantage of her allergy to cats.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89394-0 [1. Moneymaking projects—Fiction. 2. Family life-
Hawaii—Fiction. 3. Hawaii—Fiction.] I. Rogers, Jacqueline, ill. II. Title. III. Title: Zippy fix.
PZ7.S 15225 Cae
[Fic]—dc22
2008036221
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
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