Minn and Jake
Page 2
his eyes get big and round and wet.
He gets excited,
so excited
he pees in his pants.
And then he takes them off, his pants—
and his underpants—
outside the classroom,
right in front of Minn.
Minn sits next to Soup
on the way home,
relieved that he is buckled
in his car seat,
with Jake’s backpack on his lap.
∼
When they get to Jake’s house,
Jake runs in his room to hide.
Soup runs in his room
and runs back out again
with fancy cowboy pants on,
and fancy cowboy boots,
pointy-toed ones with real metal spurs.
I am Super Cowboy! Soup shouts.
And you are Minn the Horse!
Minn says,
I don’t play horse.
Soup says, Let me show you!
He chases her into the corner
with his twirling lasso
and tugs on her hand.
Minn will not play horse.
∼
So Soup starts to cry,
which makes Jake’s mother stop
her onion-chopping
and shout from the kitchen,
Is everything all right in there?
Soup tugs on Minn’s arm
again
and opens his mouth
in a fake cry
which looks real enough
to make Minn surrender.
Minn crouches
on her hands and knees.
Soup shouts,
Yes, everything’s all right, Mommy!
∼
And then he backs up
and runs forward
and jumps onto Minn’s back
like a rodeo cowboy
so Minn
can send him
bump-bump-bump up high,
and side to side
like a cowboy
on a bucking bronco,
bump-bump-bump-buckaroo—
his feet flying,
his spurs spinning—
Oh no
oh no
oh no no no no no no—CRACK! CRASH!
HELP!
∼
The aquarium
full of fancy tropical fish
does not break
because of Soup’s real metal spurs, no.
It is the kick of Soup’s boot,
instead,
that shakes the old aquarium stand
just enough
to make it wobble,
wobble and fall in slow motion,
with the huge lava rock inside
falling, too—
Oh no
oh no
oh no no no no no no!—CRACK! CRASH!
∼
And water is rushing out
the top of the aquarium,
sending fish tumbling
to the floor,
thirteen poor fish
who flip and flop
from one side to the other
on the fuzzy carpet
∼
until Jake runs out of his room
and grabs his favorites,
Angelghost and Flick,
and runs with them to the toilet,
and runs back
and grabs Disposal and Plungerface,
and runs with them to the toilet,
and runs back
and grabs Ick and Uck,
and throws them into the toilet, too,
while
Jake’s mother is trying to sponge up
the water from the carpet
with a handful of towels,
and Minn and Soup are trying
to grab
the slick
slippery
little blue ones—
which are so hard to grab
without squishing—
Yuck, squish, sorry!—
∼
Soup!
7 / Jake’s Fish
I am so sorry, Minn’s mother says.
I insist. Really.
Let us pay you back for this.
What a mess!
Minn never should have played
such a stupid game.
∼
At least the fish are all right.
Plungerface, Disposal,
Ick and Uck,
Angelghost, Flick,
and the $2.99 Blue Kind
all are swimming
(scared, but swimming)
in the toilet,
except for the one
that got squished flat
by Soup.
Jake spent a whole week
coming up with names
that fit the fish—
Plungerface: the yellow one with the big nose
who likes to suck the side of the tank.
Disposal: the garbage fish,
the miniature catfish
who eats the old food and scum
at the bottom.
Ick and Uck:
the ones who always seem to have poop
trailing out their backsides.
Angelghost:
the silvery black-and-white angelfish,
so flat and skinny
there’s hardly enough room
for real live guts
in her.
Flick: the black one
who likes to flick
her long flowing fins
into the other fishes’ faces.
The last seven (six, now),
the little blue ones,
have easy names:
all of them
are called
the $2.99 Blue Kind,
which makes them feel like a team.
∼
Jake got his fish just a week ago,
to replace the old fish he gave up
in Los Angeles
when they moved.
But they did not buy a new aquarium
or aquarium stand.
This tank that broke
was their old one from Los Angeles,
Jake’s mother’s tank
from when she was six years old,
set on her old metal stand.
So
since the fish are all right (mostly),
Jake is kind of happy
that the aquarium cracked,
since now he can get a new one.
But he doesn’t want to let anyone see
how he really feels.
He wants Minn to think he is mad.
He wants Minn to suffer,
to feel awful inside.
∼
And Minn’s mother wants to make things right.
Please, please, please—I insist—
we want to do something to pay you back.
We’ll do something fun.
I know:
Come to our house tomorrow after school, Jake.
That will be fun, won’t it, Minn?
Minn has her arms crossed
and is staring out the living room window.
Jake’s mother looks at Jake,
who has his arms crossed
and is staring out the living room window, too,
his back turned to Minn.
Minn’s mother smiles at Jake’s mother,
who says,
I’ll pick him up at five tomorrow, OK?
8 / The Long Hike Home
Today is the next day
and Minn’s mother is stuck in a meeting,
but today
Minn’s father is working at home.
Minn says,
This means we’re walking.
Walking? Jake says.
Jake hates to walk.
Why won’t your father pick us up from school?
I like walking home.
It’s fun—you’ll see.
Mom doesn’t trust me to walk by myself,
but Dad doesn’t mind,
just as long as I’m home by four o’clock.
Minn is six feet ahead of Jake.
Two of her steps equal five of his.
Come on, get walking!
We have one hour to get there—
or my dad will be worried.
Hurry!
∼
Minn and Jake are walking
one long mile
up the steepest hill in Santa Brunella
all the way to Minn’s house.
And when you’re walking a mile
up the steepest hill in Santa Brunella,
you stop whenever you can.
Their first stop
is the water tower in the woods.
Let’s build water tunnels, Minn says.
There’s a leak over on this side.
Jake plops down to rest.
He is exhausted.
While Minn builds water tunnels,
Jake takes a nap on the grass.
∼
Their second stop is on the fire trail.
Here’s a soap plant.
See these leaves?
When you find one,
pull the bulb up.
Dig your fingernails into it
and wash your hands.
I’m thirsty, Jake says.
There’s a stream
in the Gulch,
back that way and over and down,
but don’t go there, Jake.
You could break your bones
if you fall down the ravine.
Besides, if you drink that water,
the bacteria will bloat your belly
and you will die.
I’m really thirsty, Jake says.
The thing about a soap plant, Jake,
is you don’t need water to wash.
Just rub the soap juice all over your hands
and spit—
While Minn digs for soap plants,
Jake takes a nap
in the shade of the oak tree,
dreaming that he is swimming
in a huge glass of cold lemonade.
∼
Their third stop is the Screep.
Minn’s great-grandmother is the one
who first called it that,
and now everyone calls it that, too.
A scree is a tumble-jumble of small rocks,
and the Screep is the scree
where everyone scrapes their knees up.
The Screep is Minn’s favorite place in the world,
the place beyond the fire trail
where hundreds of prehistoric rocks
run down a brown grass slope
like a leftover avalanche.
The Screep is Minn’s favorite place
because this is where Minn hunts—
and Minn lives for the hunt.
9 / The Hunt
When Minn goes hunting,
it’s not for eating,
or killing,
as you probably figured out.
Minn hunts for lizards,
which she likes to keep
for ten minutes or so
in the old peanut butter jar
she carries in her backpack.
The lid has holes poked in it for air.
She likes to watch the lizards
watch her.
∼
Usually Minn can catch three lizards
in five minutes,
so lizard-hunting never takes very long.
But today
Minn has not caught a single one
in fifteen minutes.
It is 3:55, and they need to be home by 4:00 p.m.
And so
for the first time
Minn is really bothered
that Jake doesn’t want to do
anything she tells him to do.
Minn is really bothered
that all Jake wants to do is loll around
on his back
and nap.
∼
And so
she is not going to tell him
that right now
at this very moment,
as he is sleeping on the Big Arrow Rock,
a humongous lizard is starting to crawl
in the shadow of his face
and now it has one foot on his ear
and another on his cheek—
And no, Jake, don’t swat, it’s not a fly—
and its left foot on his nose
and—
AAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHH!
∼
Jake is awake now
and shaking his head like a wild dog
and spitting, spitting, spitting everywhere—
but all Minn can say is,
How’d you let that lizard get away?
All you had to do was open your mouth
and he would’ve fallen straight in—
what a waste of a really good lizard!
10 / Mad
Jake was born
smack in the middle
of the city of Los Angeles,
the part of town
where mainly
there are apartment buildings
and houses
and offices and stores
and neat little patches of grass
the pest man comes to spray—
and no lizards.
∼
So Jake’s first thought on waking
with a lizard foot on his lips
was not what a waste of a lizard
but
instead was
AAAAAAAARRRRGGGH!
∼
But Minn was born
in Santa Brunella,
where for miles and miles around
all there is
is open space
and rocks and tall grass
and lizards—
and her mother
and her grandmother
and her great-grandmother
and everyone born in Santa Brunella
grows up catching lizards
after school.
∼
So Minn is mad
that Jake has wasted
such a good chance,
and she decides it is time
to teach him
a lesson.
Enough napping, Jake:
we will stay here until you learn
how to catch a lizard!
Stand toward the sun,
so your shadow—
But Jake’s watch beeps,
which it does every hour on the hour,
from the time Jake sets the beeper
at seven o’clock in the morning
until the time Jake turns the beeper off
at nine o’clock at night.
∼
And when it beeps,
Minn jumps, panicked, scared—
as if she were the one
who almost swallowed a lizard
in her sleep.
Oh, no! Four o’clock! Minn shouts,
stuffing her empty peanut butter jar
and notebook and pen
in her backpack.
Hurry up, Jake!
We’ve got to get home!
Dad will be worried—
and when he’s worried; he gets really mad!
I might not get to walk home anymore!
Run!
11 / 4:05 p.m.
Minn’s father
is only slightly worried,
since he figures
Minn must be lizard-catching
with her new friend Jake.
Or teaching him how to catch lizards.
∼
Minn’s father did not grow up
in Santa Brunella
but he understands
how important
lizard-catching is
to kids who grow up here.
Minn’s father gre
w up
smack in the middle of New York City
where he never saw a lizard,
but he did a fair amount
of critter-catching
as a boy—
cockroach-catching.
And he loves it, still.
Minn’s father is so good
at catching cockroaches,
he can do it with a pair of barbecue tongs.
So he can understand
how Minn loses track of time
when she is at the Screep.
He is not at all worried.
∼
Minn stumbles in the door,
covered with sweat,
her face streaked with dirt.
Minn is alone.
Now Minn’s father is starting to worry,
and starting to get mad at Minn:
Where is your friend Jake?
Did you run and just leave him behind?
Is that the way to treat a friend?
Minn looks behind her.
Where is Jake?
She runs out to the street
and shouts, Ja-A-ke!
No answer.
Where is he?
∼
Minn is now worried—and mad, too.
Is he lost?
Did he run the wrong way?
Did he tumble into the Gulch
and break his legs?
She and her father run toward the Screep
calling Ja-AAA-ke!
All of a sudden they see a car
turn the corner
and drive toward them—
Jake’s mother.
He called me on his cell phone.
He keeps a cell phone in his backpack.
I know it’s silly, but he says
you never know.
Anyway—
something about lizard feet, rocks,
running, falling, something—
He was talking a mile a minute.
He told me to come get him now.
He was frantic.
Where is he?
∼
Jake’s mother dials his number
on her cell phone.
No answer.
She hangs up,
gets out of the car.
Soup is starting to cry.
Jake is lost!
Jake’s mother is biting her nails.
She is on her middle finger
when the phone rings.
It’s Jake! his mother says.
Jake, slow down!
Hold on! What? Who?
Where is This Creep?
12 / An Invitation (Part One)
Minn is not going to waste her time
on that hopeless city boy Jake,
who is the slowest runner
and the laziest napper
and a good-for-nothing lizard-catcher, no.
She is not going to waste her time
becoming his friend,
because what on earth
could she do
with a friend like him?
∼
But for the sake of tradition—
and after all it is a tradition in Santa Brunella
to catch lizards after school—
and especially
because he is such a puny thing