by Lenore Look
I wondered if Charlie was going to feel the same way when they buried him tomorrow. And I wondered if he’d hear the same things:
Birds singing.
A squirrel hurrying up a tree.
The breath of someone nearby.
I smelled the sunlight.
“It’s like I’m at the beach,” I said. “But better.”
“Would you like me to say some nice words about you?” asked Anibelly.
“Yes, please,” I said.
“Okay,” said Anibelly.
She let go of the shovel. Bonk!
She waved her hands toward the sky.
“Oh, God,” said Anibelly, closing her eyes.
“Here lies the body of Alvin Ho. Aged seven. No cell phone number. No cell phone.”
Silence.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“You want more?” asked Anibelly.
“They fit a whole book on those tombstones,” I said.
“You want a tombstone?” asked Anibelly.
“No,” I said. “I just want to hear the nice words.”
Anibelly took a big breath. “Once upon a time he was afraid of everything,” she began.
I closed my eyes and listened.
“He shared … but not always. He got busted a lot. He cried all the time. He could scream his head off. He played with Lucy. He loved his mom and dad. He was the best Firecracker Man ever. Rest in pieces. The end.”
“Do you have any holy water?” I asked. “And incense?”
“You want the fancy stuff?”
“I want the works,” I said. “Like on TV.”
“Okay!” said Anibelly. She hurried into the house.
When she ran back out, she was carrying her art case, but it was now marked “FK.”
“What’s FK?” I asked.
“Funeral Disaster Kit,” said Anibelly.
“I made it for you when you told GungGung you would go with him.”
“You did?”
“Yup,” said Anibelly. “I knew you were scared.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Now that you’re not going,” said Anibelly, “we can use it for your own funeral.”
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“Something that makes it okay to be scared,” said Anibelly, opening the case and pulling out a rag that was limp and kind of dirty.
“What is it?” I asked.
“My blankie,” said Anibelly. “I cut it in half.”
“You cut your blankie???” I was shocked. It was the best thing she owned.
“You were so scared,” said Anibelly.
She squatted down and rubbed it on my cheek.
“Half for you and half for me,” she said, leaving the soft, fuzzy, chewed and tattered cloth next to my cheek.
I inhaled.
It smelled like Anibelly. She smelled like half-baby, half-alien.
“Half is all you need,” said Anibelly. “Just rub it between your fingers, like this.”
Anibelly rubbed the corner like a lucky penny.
“It’s a secret weapon,” she whispered.
I didn’t know what to say.
What do you say when someone’s just given you the best secret weapon in the world?
Then Anibelly pulled out my mom’s plastic bottle of holy water, the one with the spray nozzle, and misted my entire head.
“That’s for just in case,” she said. “Amen.”
Then Anibelly went back to digging holes.
“Lalalalalalala,” she sang. “Lalalalalalalala.”
And I went back to watching the brilliant sky, my cheek rubbing on her half blankie. I thought about what it must feel like to be dead and to spend every afternoon with nothing to do but blink away rainbow tears on my eyelashes.
It was fantastic. It was really fantastic.
this is how to dress for a funeral:
1. Clean shirt.
2. Clean pants.
3. Clean jacket.
4. Clip-on tie.
5. Clean underwear.
6. If you forget the clean underwear, take everything off and redo steps one through four.
7. Clean socks.
8. Clean shoes.
9. Half-blankie in the pocket.
10. Holy water and garlic in the other pocket, just in case.
No one had to tell me. I’d figured it out all by myself.
It was no problem either.
The only problem was that every time I dress like this, something terrible happens. Like the time I tripped over some wires while dancing at my aunt Sushi’s wedding and everything went dark. Or the time I went to my baby cousin’s christening and all the aunties pinched my cheeks and kissed them. After that, I choked on jellyfish and had to be rushed to the emergency room.
The suit was a magnet for bad luck or something, I was sure of it.
Downstairs my mom and dad were sitting in the kitchen reading the paper and drinking coffee. Anibelly and Calvin were in the living room watching Saturday-morning cartoons.
Normally, I’d be watching cartoons too.
But I was not normal.
I was going to my first funeral.
“Oh, Alvin!” My mom gasped when I came down the stairs.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. I stepped stiffly; it was another problem with the suit.
“You look so handsome and brave!” cried my mom.
“Amazing,” said my dad. “You really surprise me sometimes, son. I didn’t think that you were up for this.”
“I. Didn’t. Think. I. Was. Up. For. It. Either.” A strange little voice came out of my mouth. I sat down and reached for my mom’s yummy homemade granola.
“What changed your mind?” asked my dad.
“I thought about it for a long time yesterday while I was dead,” I squeaked. Milk and nuts dribbled off my chin.
Then my dad added, “I’m very proud of you, son.”
I was proud of me too, but I was also scared out of my mind. My mouth opened, and all that came out was—
Ding-dong!
My heart jumped out of my chest.
I ran to the door. GungGung and PohPoh were coming to pick me up, but it wasn’t them.
It was Flea.
“Hi!” said Flea. She’s a girl and she was all dressed up like a girl too, which, as everyone knows, is horrible, especially when it makes her look clean and shiny like a new car.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I came to go to the funeral with you,” she said.
“You did?”
“Yup,” she said.
“Why?”
“Well, I’m your desk buddy, aren’t I?” asked Flea.
I nodded.
“I sit with you on the bus, don’t I?” she asked.
I nodded again.
“If your gunggung had died, I would be going, wouldn’t I?” Her one good eye blinked.
“No,” I said.
“Of course I would,” said Flea. “I don’t have a grandpa. But if I could order one on the Internet, I’d click on yours.”
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t know that about Flea.
“I’m just SO happy it’s NOT your gunggung,” said Flea, stepping past me and going straight into my house like she always does. “But I think that you still need a funeral buddy.”
A funeral buddy?
Like I said, my suit attracts all sorts of bad luck, especially the girl kind.
It was a bright, cold morning, with a little breeze and little puffs of clouds in the sky; a good-luck day for a funeral, GungGung said. He and PohPoh were very pleased that Flea had joined us, and after struggling to get my stiff body into their car, we drove to the funeral home, where they struggled again to take my stiff body out of the car.
Then we went inside.
It was so creepy.
I would have fainted dead away if it hadn’t been for Flea, who was really experienced at these sorts of things.
First she smelled the flowers.
&
nbsp; So I smelled the flowers.
Then she shook the hands of everyone PohPoh and GungGung introduced to us.
“This is our friend, Sophie,” said my gunggung. “And this is our grand son, Alvin. He knew Charlie too.”
I shook stiffly.
I stared straight ahead.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.
The dead body.
It looked like Charlie. Sort of.
A strange, sad feeling went up my nose and fell into my chest.
I thought about the times when he looked like normal Charlie.
I reached into my pocket and rubbed Anibelly’s half-blankie between my fingers.
I watched as people walked up to the casket and bowed three times.
“It’s a Chinese thing,” whispered GungGung. “It shows respect. You do it if you want to, it’s not required.”
Then he and PohPoh did it together.
Then Flea did it. And she didn’t even know him!
No way was I doing that.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
I couldn’t believe it. I was marching closer and closer to the casket!
My feet stopped right in front of Charlie. Yikes!
Bow. Bow. Bow.
Turn.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
I wanted to run out of that place as fast as I could. But I couldn’t. Instead, I marched over to where my gunggung and PohPoh and Flea were sitting, waiting for the service to begin.
I sat down stiffly. My heart pounded like crazy.
“You made Charlie proud,” said my gunggung, giving me a pat on the back. “But I’m even prouder.”
PohPoh put one arm around me and the other arm around Flea and said something in Chinese that sounded like we were very, very brave.
If she only knew.
Then GungGung got up. He made a speech about Charlie, reading it from a piece of paper that shook in his hands:
“He was a great guy.…
“He was always there for me.…
“We grew up in China.…
“My family was poor, so he shared his rice with me.…
“During the war, he hid me in caves.…
“When I was scared, he told me stories.…
“When I was cold, he shared his blanket.…
“He was like a brother to me.…
“He was poor like me, but I never knew it.…
“I thought he owned all of China.…”
GungGung wiped his eyes and blew his nose at the end of his speech. And so did everyone else.
And so did I. I cried into Anibelly’s half-blankie, then rubbed it on my cheek.
“Alvin?” said a voice. “Are you okay, son?”
I blinked.
It was my dad. He was in his roofing gear.
“Where am I?” I asked, sitting up.
“You fell asleep in the car on the way home,” said my dad. “And GungGung carried you in.”
I looked around. I was on the sofa in my living room.
Then I remembered. I looked around for Flea. Fortunately, there was no sign of her.
“How was the funeral?” asked my mom.
“Creepy,” I said. “I was scared the whole time.”
“Sounds like you did okay,” said my dad. “GungGung said you were on your best behavior. And that you and Flea enjoyed the Chinese banquet afterwards.”
“Yup,” I said. “But I enjoyed the Concord Museum even more.”
“Concord Museum?” asked my mom. “GungGung didn’t mention that.”
“Everyone knows you can’t go directly home after a funeral,” I said. “Just in case.”
“In case of what?” asked my dad.
“In case there are bad spirits following you,” I explained. “PohPoh said that you gotta dodge them somewhere.”
“The museum’s the perfect place to take them,” said my mom. “They should feel right at home among all the historical stuff.”
I nodded. “It was the perfect place to take me too,” I said. “There was an entire room about the Algonkians and Puritans.”
“I’d forgotten,” said my dad.
“It really helps to see everything,” I said.
“Does this mean you’ll be ready to take your test again next week?” asked my mom.
“Take it again?” I asked. “Why do I have to do that?”
“Well, you didn’t take it in the first place,” said my mom. “You still have to pass it.”
“Pass it?” I squeaked. “But Calvin said all I had to do was eat it.”
Alvin Ho’s
Deadly Glossary
afterlife— Aka “the other side,” which is the other side of Walden Pond, which is where you end up after you swim for your life across the pond.
Algonkian— Pronounced “al-GON-kee-un.” I think the Algonkians beat Calvin’s team, the Patriots, in baseball. Also it’s a word like “American” or “Asian” that refers to a lot of different people. Algonkians include many Native American tribes that live throughout the United States and southern Canada. The tribes have different names and cultures, but their native languages were related.
American Revolutionary War— Started in Concord, Massachusetts, which is hard to spell. Fought between the Revolutionaries (the good guys) and the Redcoats (the British Army). It lasted a long time, from 1775 to 1783. There were dead bodies all over the place. Nowadays, they try to restart the war every April, on Patriots’ Day!
Ben Franklin— Was a very busy dude. He did everything: wrote books, printed a newspaper, invented stuff, played several musical instruments, composed music, wrote lots of letters (and sent them too on account of he was the boss at the U.S. Post Off ice) and helped write the Declaration of Independence. Most importantly, he experimented with electricity and invented the lightning rod!
bucket list— Stuff you want to do before you die. It’s a list, but it has nothing to do with a bucket, that’s for sure.
condolence letter— Something you write to someone when you’re about to die.
cremate— I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know. But it sounds like it has something to do with turning you into cream.
Egyptian Pyramids— Built as tombs for the dead bodies of kings and queens. Constructed before the Flood. Noah and his animals probably saw the tops of them as they floated by in the ark.
Fenway Green— The color of split-pea soup. Made only for Fenway Park. You can’t get it anywhere, but you can mix your own and come pretty close, like my gunggung did.
Fenway Park— Opened on April 20, 1912, the day after Patriots’ Day, and less than a week after the Titanic sank. Gulp.
Firecracker Man— Saves the world on Saturdays and holidays.
funeral— Creepy ceremony for saying goodbye to someone when they die. Usually includes a dead body.
Great Wall of China— More than 4,000 miles long. While it was being constructed, people called it the longest cemetery on earth on account of workers who died got buried in it. More than one million people died building the wall.
Green Monster— The big green wall in left field at Fenway Park where the balls bang off like crazy! The old-fashioned scoreboard is at the bottom of the wall. This means there’s an old-fashioned person inside the wall who takes the old number off and puts the new number up every time a team scores. That’s a job I’d like to have!
GungGung— (1) Married to PohPoh. (2) My grandpa from my mom’s side. (3) An ace pitching machine. (4) A die-hard loyal Red Sox fan. (5) My best friend next to my dad.
HBP— Hit By Pitch. Don “No-Rub” Baylor got hit 267 times! It’s the record. He played for the Red Sox back in the desktop age before batteries were invented for laptops.
Henry David Thoreau— Born in Concord, just like me, and died here too. Gulp. He spent his life trying to know what it meant to be truly alive. He died when he was 44.
Homer— (1) Famous dead poet who wrote the Lily Ad and the Odd Sea, true tales of indomitable courage and dangerous expeditions. (2
) Lived in Greece while the continents were still drifting. (3) Never lived in Concord. (4) Some say he never lived at all and that his poems were written by someone with the same name. (5) Blind. (6) Probably homeless. (7) Wore a toga.
Leif Eriksson— Brave Viking explorer who was the first European to go camping in North America.
Lobsterbacks— Aka Redcoats. Their uniforms made them look like genuine Maine lobsters!
Louisa May Alcott— Creepy dead author who’s still leading tours through her home. Wrote a book called Little Women that sold like crazy and still sells like crazy. It’s crazy—it’s about girls!
Lotus Eaters— People who eat lotus, which is a flower with a yummy fruit. After you eat it, all you want to do is sleep and then eat some more. This is a problem when you’re supposed to be having adventures and heading home from a war, like Odysseus’s men.
Minutemen— A small, hand-picked elite force of the Massachusetts militia, who were “ready in a minute.” They were the first to arrive at a battle during the American Revolutionary War. On April 19, 1775, they came to Concord on foot. Nowadays, some of the troops ride the bus.
Moong cha cha— Chinese words for confused, fuzzy in the head, not clear.
Mumbo jumbo— Spelling, math, history, girls. Anything that looks confusing, sounds confusing and will never make any sense no matter how loud you scream.
Nail in the coffin— Used to keep the lid from falling off. Especially helpful for keeping scary vampires inside, I think.
Nathaniel Hawthorne— Famous dead author who lived next door to the Alcotts on Lexington Road. Rarely gives house tours, not like the other famous dead authors in town.
Odysseus— (1) The original action hero, star of Homer’s Odd Sea. (2) A Greek dude. (3) Fought a long war against the Trojans, who were bigger and better. (4) Came up with the idea of hiding Greek soldiers inside a wooden horse and conquering the Trojans by surprise. (5) Very brave, but was allergic to flying, so it took him ten years to get home after the war. (6) The good news is that he had a lot of dangerous adventures on the way!
Omen— A creepy message that’s not written in words, but first you have to figure out it’s a message, then you have to figure out what it means. Then you run!
