Attack of the Mutant Underwear

by Tom Birdseye

  I said, “I don’t even have a journal.”

  Which would make this the I Don’t Have a Journal journal, which is twisting the truth around in a very Old Me way, I know. But MC made me do it. It’s her fault.

  Thursday, February 8

  Ran relay races in PE. Amy and I were on the same team. I ran first and beat Tyler. Then Libby ran and we fell behind. Emerson ran third (more like waddled, really), and we got way behind. Amy ran last. Wow! I didn’t know she could run that fast. She passed up Zach, which really bugged him, and we won!

  Talent show tryouts were today. Amy and Libby got in, of course. They’ll sing a song called “Pizza Love” that is really funny. They’re worried, though, because they’ve only got a month to practice. When they sang it for me, I told them, “It sounds great right now!” and clapped really loud. Amy smiled.

  Walked into Mattingly’s Department Store this afternoon and they had Valentine’s underwear on display—white with red hearts all over them.

  No, I am not going to get a pair, even if I am in love. No way, no how! End of discussion.

  Well, almost end of discussion. I was staring at the heart-covered boxers when a sales clerk in squeaky shoes walked up and asked if I needed any help. Without thinking, I said, “Sometimes I get the feeling that the underwear of the universe are out to get me. Would you mind putting these back in their spaceship?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Uh …” was all she could get out before I caught myself and said, “Just kidding.”

  Friday, February 9

  Ralphster got out of his TV cage today during lunch period. (He must have heard we were having burritos and wanted some, too.) Amy discovered he was gone when we came back in from recess. She panicked and almost started to cry.

  Guess who found Ralphster under the sink counter? And got a note from Amy with THANK YOU written in BIG letters?

  Cody Lee LOVERBOY Carson, that’s ME!

  Sunday, February 11

  I was downtown this afternoon with Mom and MC and saw Amy across the street coming out of the movie theater. I started to yell hello, but then I saw that she was with a boy. They were walking side by side and laughing together.

  When I got home, I paced back and forth in my room until I couldn’t stand it anymore and dialed Amy’s number. Her mom answered and said, “She’s still downtown with her cousin.”

  I said, “Her cousin?”

  “Yes, her cousin Taylor from Bend. He’s visiting for the weekend.”

  Oops!

  Monday, February 12

  Ms. B told us that if we are going to have a Valentine’s party, we have to agree to give cards to everyone.

  Zach made a face at Libby and said, “Everyone?”

  Libby made a face back at him and said, “Boys, too?”

  Ms. B rolled her eyes and said, “Sometimes I wonder why I got into teaching.”

  Good question. But right now I don’t have time for that. I need to think about Valentine’s—which is the day after tomorrow—and what I, Cody Lee Loverboy Carson, am going to give Amy.

  Who sat beside me at lunch today and gave me half of her brownie. If that’s not a sign of true love, I don’t know what is.

  Tuesday, February 13

  Talk about luck! I went into Richey’s Market to get some gum and saw that they had boxes of assorted chocolates on sale. Perfect for Amy for Valentine’s! She loves chocolate as much as I do. So I bought one.

  But as I was walking home, I started wondering if those chocolates had been on sale because they weren’t any good, were maybe stale, or even moldy. Figuring there was only one way to find out, I sat down on the curb and opened them.

  First I tried a buttercream caramel. It tasted fine. So I tried a cashew cluster. And an almond nougat. Not bad. And then a piece of the chocolate nut fudge. And Vermont fudge. And toffee chip. Wow! And then a chocolate cordial. And a truffle. Turned out they all were great. What a relief!

  But now all I had was an empty box and no chocolates. So I went back and spent all the rest of my money on another one. (This is the kind of sacrifice you have to make for true love.)

  At home I made a card for Amy and decorated it with a big red heart. Then I wrote a poem in it. (Private stuff, but trust me, it’s great writing!) Then I signed it “Love, Cody!” (underlined just like that).

  I was admiring my handiwork and imagining how after Amy saw it she’d throw her arms around me, when MC came running into my room (without knocking, of course), pointed a finger at me, and said, “Ha! It’s your turn to do the kitty litter box again and it’s full of poop!”

  I looked around for something to throw at her, and grabbed the empty chocolate box, when all of a sudden I got a brilliant, better idea.

  Guess what I’m giving MC for Valentine’s Day? Hint: the card doesn’t say, “Love” on it, and that empty box isn’t empty anymore!

  Wednesday, February 14

  After breakfast I was sneaking into MC’s room to plant my Valentine’s “gift” when I heard her coming up the stairs singing that Elvis song she’s always practicing for the talent show. So I had to hurry and toss the box and card onto her dresser and hightail it out of there. But I was grinning. This was going to be one of the best gotchas of all time!

  All morning at school I looked for an opportunity to slip the other box into Amy’s desk. I wanted all that chocolate and my confession of love to be a surprise.

  It wasn’t until after lunch that I got my chance, though. While everyone was still in the cafeteria, I acted like I was headed to the bathroom and instead circled back around to our classroom. I peeked in to make sure Ms. B was gone, then tiptoed over to Amy’s desk. Mission of love accomplished!

  She found my gift when she reached into her desk for her silent reading book. “What?” she said. “Who?” She looked around and I quickly ducked my head and acted like I was already reading. I heard her open the box, and waited for her arms to fly around me—

  “You think this is funny?”

  I looked up to see Amy rise out of her chair, face red with anger. She stomped over and slammed the box down on my desk.

  “You are sick, Cody! Sick! Sick! Sick!”

  There was the card I had written MC: “The perfect Valentine’s snack for a perfect jerk!” And there, where once had been assorted chocolates, was my gift of assorted cat poop.

  Thursday, February 15

  Hear Ye, Hear Ye! Listen Up, Everybody!

  I, Cody Lee Carson, have an announcement to make: Women—as in female-type persons—are not worth the trouble. I spent the whole day today trying to explain the chocolate box mix-up to Amy, that it was really meant for MC, not for her, that it was just a mistake. But she wouldn’t even listen. Zach’s laughing at her and telling everybody she got cat poop for Valentine’s didn’t help. The news spread fast. By lunch today lots of kids were pointing at her in the hall and giggling. Although she acted like she didn’t care, she was really embarrassed—I could tell.

  Still, you’d think she’d at least give me a chance to apologize.

  Saturday, February 17

  Okay, no more Mr. Nice Guy. If MC and Jordy are going to keep blabbing about Amy and me, even though Amy still hasn’t spoken to me since Valentine’s Day, then I’m going to sink to their level, which is lower than a snake’s belly while crawling in a ditch, and blab about them.

  Later, Saturday, February 17

  Walked right through the middle of MC and Jordy’s card game, singing “Molly loves Jordy! Molly loves Jordy! Molly loves Jordy!”

  They didn’t even look up.

  So I went outside on the front porch and started singing at the top of my lungs: “Molly loves Jordy! Molly loves Jordy! And Jordy loves her, too!”

  They didn’t seem to care.

  I got a big piece of cardboard out of the basement and wrote in gi-huge-o letters: MOLLY LOVES JORDY. Then I carried the sign to the corner and waved it at everybody who passed by, shouting “Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Molly loves
Jordy and he loves her!”

  Next thing I knew Molly and Jordy were running toward me. Now I’d gotten their attention! They’d beg me to stop embarrassing them. But would I? NO! “Molly loves Jordy, and he loves her! Molly loves Jor—”

  MC jerked the sign out of my hands and waved it at a car. “I love Jordy and he loves me!” she sang at the top of her lungs. Jordy chimed in. “And we’re going to get married!” They both began to chant, “We’re going to get married! We’re going to get married!”

  Later, as they were trying on dress-up clothes, they thanked me for helping with the wedding announcement. Sometimes it seems like I just can’t win for losing.

  Monday, February 19

  My turn to clean out the litter box again. Twice as much clumped yuck as usual. I think Emma is doing this just to get back at me for the Kitty Whiz thing.

  Tuesday, February 20

  Went into the boys’ bathroom and there was somebody crying in one of the stalls. I knocked on the door and it swung open. Guess who was sitting there?

  Jordy. Turns out the reason he was crying was because, and don’t ask me why, he’d tied his shoestrings around the toilet paper holder and couldn’t get the knot undone!

  After I stopped laughing, I said I’d rescue him if he’d promise to stop saying things about Amy and me. He nodded.

  I said, “Promise?”

  He said, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  So I untied him.

  As he walked out the door, he said, “Amy doesn’t like you anymore, anyway.”

  I said, “So what. I don’t like her either.”

  Which is the truth.

  Friday, February 23

  Didn’t get my math done, so I had to go to the library during recess to finish it. As I passed the music room, I could hear Amy and Libby in there practicing “Pizza Love” for the talent show. I stopped and listened, just to see if they were any good.

  They’re not.

  Another bumper crop of kitty litter clumps, and I could swear Emma smirked at me. Rotten cat!

  Wednesday, February 28

  I was beginning to think that it was impossible for Emerson to embarrass himself. Until today, that is. He had his hand up during math so Ms. B would call on him for the right answer, and all of a sudden he blurted out, “What’s that smell?”

  Everybody looked at him as he sniffed, and sniffed, and sniffed some more. Then his face turned bright red. Turns out what he was smelling was his own armpit. Zach pinched his nose and said, “Peeuw! Get that boy some deodorant!”

  Everybody laughed. Me too, mainly because I wasn’t in Emerson’s shoes.

  Thursday, March 1

  If I hear Amy and Libby’s stupid “Pizza Love” song one more time I think I’m going to … Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do. This I do know, though: I’ll be really glad when the talent show is over.

  Friday, March 2

  Dress Like a Movie Star Day. Ms. B wore sunglasses with sequins on them, and kept calling everyone “Darling!” Amy and Libby draped feathered scarves around their necks. Emerson showed up in a black turtleneck and a black French beret. I was going to dress up like an alien from a sci-fi movie, but didn’t have a costume. Dad suggested slicking my hair back and turning up the collar of my jacket and going as his hero, James Dean. Which was easy, so I did.

  Ms. B said, “Very nice, darling!” and asked me to help with the talent show. “You look like you should be in charge of the curtain and lights. We’d call you Technical Director in Charge of the Curtain and Lights, which is a very important title.”

  I started to say, “Thanks but no thanks. I don’t like being onstage, even if it’s behind the curtain.” But Ms. B must have seen it coming (she’s really good at that). She said, “Don’t give me an answer now. Think about it over the weekend, okay?”

  Saturday, March 3

  Thought about it. Don’t want to do it.

  Sunday, March 4

  Thought about it some more. Still don’t want to do it. I’ll tell Ms. B first thing tomorrow morning. And that is my final answer.

  Monday, March 5

  Started to tell Ms. B I didn’t want to be Technical Director in Charge of the Curtain and Lights, but chickened out. Tomorrow I really will tell her.

  Really.

  Tuesday, March 6

  Marched up to Ms. B to tell her I don’t want to be Technical Director in Charge of the Curtain and Lights for the talent show. But before I could even get halfway from A to B (much less Z), she said, “I think you’ll be perfect for the job, Cody!” Then she walked off.

  Mr. Nosy Emerson, who was standing right there, said, “You don’t look so good with your mouth hanging open.”

  Thursday, March 8

  If you know of anyone who wants to learn how to create a really good disaster, send them to me. I’m an expert. No, an artist. Here’s how it’s done:

  THE CODY LEE CARSON GUIDE

  TO CREATING

  A REALLY GOOD DISASTER

  STEP 1. Get chosen to do something you know nothing about, like being Technical Director in Charge of the Curtain and Lights at a school talent show.

  STEP 2. Since the light switches and curtain rope are just offstage, where you have a great view of everything, get majorly caught up in watching the talent show acts. For example, say there is a guy named Tyler who is the MC (that stands for Master of Ceremonies, not Molly the Creature). And say that he starts the show by cracking some great jokes, like: “What’s invisible and smells like carrots? Rabbit burps!” What you do then is laugh, and forget about the instruction sheet your teacher gave you. So you don’t pull the curtain for the first-grade piano player who is so nervous he’s about to wet his pants.

  STEP 3. After a kid named Libby hisses at you to “Get with it, vacuum head!” you open the curtain. Your teacher, Ms. B, tells the first grader he’ll do fine and coaxes him out onto the stage. He sits down at the piano and plays something called “Invention in D Minor” by Bach. And, boy, you can see why they call it that! It sounds like he’s inventing it as he goes along. So you laugh some more and forget to turn on the red and blue lights for Jamal, who plays the African drums.

  STEP 4. Libby hisses at you again, and after fumbling around and turning on green and yellow lights, you finally find the red and blue. Jamal is great on the African drums, and so you clap and clap and clap, and forget to turn off the red and blue lights like it says there on your instruction sheet.

  STEP 5. Which upsets Emerson, who is going to recite Shakespeare. He wants just the spotlights on him. Libby is hissing at you again, which is starting to get on your nerves, but you finally find the spotlight switch. Emerson goes on and on, comparing thee and thou to a summer’s day. You get so busy thinking that Emerson should just skip being a kid and become an adult right now, and that he’d probably be a lot happier because he makes a weird kid, that you miss your cue again.

  STEP 6. Another method for creating a really good disaster is to turn off the sound system so the microphone goes dead. That way the two magicians on stage both try to fix it at the same time and end up getting into a tug-of-war and rip the mike cord out.

  STEP 7. Or maybe you’d want to experiment with closing the curtain right in the middle of Claire playing “Ode to Joy” on the cello, then later opening it while the choir is still getting into place. That will get Mrs. Alonzo, the choir director, flustered and her glasses will fall off and she’ll step on them right there in front of everybody. Then Mrs. Alonzo will say something you’re not supposed to say in front of kids, and then she’ll get even more flustered.

  STEP 8. Although Libby is still hissing at you and lots of people are now throwing dagger looks your way, the key to creating a really good disaster is not to let up. Now is the time to give it everything you’ve got! So when Amy and Libby come out to sing “Pizza Love,” you should use one of my favorite techniques:

  Wait until they get halfway through the first verse and then knock over the music stand Cla
ire left right behind you. It will crash to the floor and distract Libby, who will then forget the lyrics and get really embarrassed. Amy will keep smiling and trying to keep the song going, but it won’t work. Libby will be lost. Amy will get lost, too, and finally they’ll just sort of fade to a stop. People will clap, but Amy and Libby will walk offstage looking like they want to crawl into a hole and hide … right after beating you with a big stick.

  STEP 9. Which pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the talent show. Even if you start to goof up and do things just the way they are written on your instruction sheet, people are now so sure their act is going to go bad that it will, even without your help!

  STEP 10. True, your sister Molly the Creature is immune to your really good disasters. She’ll do her Elvis impersonation perfectly, jumping around onstage with her hair slicked back and lip-synching every word to “Hound Dog” right on time. But most of the sequins she glued on will fall off, and she’ll be disappointed when a talent scout doesn’t offer her a movie contract after the show. So don’t worry, things are still going your way. And keep in mind, the best is yet to come!

  STEP 11. That’s right. Just when you’re thinking it couldn’t get any better than this, out onto the stage comes Amy again, this time with juggling balls. You are so surprised—you didn’t know she had signed up for two acts—that you just stand there with your mouth hanging open. Of course you are supposed to be turning on the spotlights. But who cares? Amy is tossing juggling balls under her leg. And flipping them behind her back. And throwing them really high. And you’re thinking, Wow, she’s good! And that maybe you made a mistake about her and you two should make up.