Almost a Winner

by Molly B. Burnham

  Lonnie and Viva resort to eating grass. It seems to help them, so I do it too. That’s when the recess monitor tells us we aren’t allowed to eat grass.

  I admit I’ve learned a few things from this experience:

  1. Eating raw garlic tastes way worse than anyone could ever think.

  2. Sometimes grown-ups make up dumb rules like no eating grass.

  3. This record was not as easy as I thought it would be.

  4. I admire Mom, because she actually does the things on her to-do list. I just dream of doing things.

  WHICH ONE OF YOU IS FARTING?

  When we get back to class, I discover that during lunch and recess, Ms. Raffeli moved all my stuff to Max’s desk and all his stuff to mine.

  I knew she was going to switch us, but it’s all more horrible when it’s done. It also makes it way harder for me to concentrate on brainstorming inventions, which is what Ms. Raffeli has asked us to do. “Remember,” Ms. Raffeli says, “think of a problem in your life and try to solve it with an invention.”

  My group starts inventing right away. It’s amazing how they come up with ideas so quickly.

  Ny says, “How about regular shoes that can turn into tap shoes? That way I could tap anywhere and anytime.”

  “You’re a tap dancer?” I ask.

  “I knew she was a tap dancer,” Lewis says.

  Ny stands up and shows me. She’s really good. I can see why she’d want tap shoes with her all the time.

  “Nice tapping,” Lewis says. “Now back to problems. How about glow-in-the-dark baseballs? So you don’t lose them at night.”

  Cornelio says, “How about an electric page turner, so I don’t have to turn them?”

  Ny says, “That’s just lazy.”

  “I know.” Cornelio shrugs. “Sometimes I’m like that.”

  Serena says, “My only problem is that my hair is so fabulous, people are jealous. But what do you invent to solve that problem?” Serena laughs, but the rest of us are quiet. “I’m joking,” she says. And then we all join her.

  Unfortunately, I’m not coming up with any ideas, because it turns out that the worst part of trying to break a garlic record is that garlic makes you fart. But the even-worser part is the unbelievable stinkiness of my farts. Who knew garlic farts were so smelly? Considering Edison knew so much about perspiration, you think he’d have invented something to mask really bad stinks.

  “Okay,” Serena says, “which one of you is farting?”

  “That’s what I was going to ask,” Lewis says.

  Cornelio says, “Don’t look at me.” Which, of course, makes everyone look at him.

  I try to hold the farts in, but it’s no use. They sneak out. I can see from everyone’s face how bad it is. I’m sure the only reason Ms. Raffeli doesn’t notice is because she’s so busy listening to invention ideas that her nose isn’t working.

  I can tell that Lonnie and Viva are having the same problem because Max is holding his nose.

  Ny says, “It’s Teddy.”

  “That’s what I was going to say,” Lewis says.

  Ny looks at me and says, “How about we make an invention that fights farts?”

  Before Lewis can say that he was going to say that, Ny, Serena, and Cornelio burst out laughing. Lewis cracks up too, and I admit, I join them, because it would be a great invention, and honestly my farts are too much even for me.

  HOW COULD I FORGET?

  The bell rings, and we’re about to rush out when Ms. Raffeli stops us. “Students,” she says. “Today is the last day of March, which means tomorrow is April first, also known as April Fools’ Day.”

  “What?” I say.

  Ms. Raffeli keeps talking. “In the past there have been jokes played in the classroom. This year there will not be. Instead, we will pour all that creative energy into our inventions!”

  I stop listening right there because my brain is taken up with one huge thought: HOW COULD I FORGET APRIL FOOLS’ DAY?!!

  Lonnie and I love April Fools’ Day. It’s the best day of the year. We always spend the day before together, planning our pranks.

  Max, who is now sitting with Lonnie and Viva, raises his hand. “Ms. Raffeli, I think someone already played a trick. I’ve been smelling stink bombs all afternoon.”

  “Is that true?” Ms. Raffeli sniffs. I’m happy to say no one in my group says anything about the stink bombs actually being my farts. Ms. Raffeli grabs her nose and holds it closed, and because she’s holding her nose, she can’t talk right. “Whoeber led off de stink bombs, I do not want any branks toborrow. Do I bake byself clear?”

  For once she’s not staring at me.

  THE DAY BEFORE APRIL FOOLS’ DAY

  “It’s a miracle,” I say. “An April Fools’ Day miracle!” Lonnie and Viva walk into my house. I don’t know how they did it, but both of them were allowed to come over today.

  Viva says, “Mom figured if I came here, all the tricks would be played on your family, and she’d be safe.”

  Lonnie smiles. “She doesn’t know you very well, does she?”

  Viva laughs. “Sometimes I don’t think she knows me at all!”

  No one in my family is home right now. Mom went to the hardware store with The Destructor and will be gone for an hour. And I know from the calendar on the fridge that all my sisters are busy with activities, which means we won’t be interrupted by anyone.

  For years Lonnie and I have played pranks together, but this is our first April Fools’ Day with Viva. We share with her some of our favorite tricks:

  1. Toothpaste on doorknobs.

  2. Shaving cream on toilet seats.

  3. Switching salt for sugar.

  4. Hiding all Dad’s underwear under the sofa cushions. (He couldn’t find them for hours.)

  “My turn!” Viva says.

  1. Stuffing newspapers into the toes of shoes.

  2. Piling up loads of stuff in the closet so when the door opens, everything falls all over the person who opened the door.

  3. Fake candy made from play dough.

  4. Tying all the dining room chairs together with fishing line.

  Viva says, “I could go on, but you get the idea.”

  “You’ve got more?” Lonnie says.

  She nods.

  For some reason this is not surprising at all.

  UNDERWEAR-GUN DI

  When Viva asks why we can’t do anything to my sisters, I say, “Trust me. It’s not worth the pain they can cause.”

  Lonnie nods and says, “He’s speaking the truth.”

  Viva says, “What’s the point of having siblings if you can’t play a prank on them?”

  I shake my head. “Your Jedi mind trick won’t work on me this time.”

  “Fine,” she says. “But do you have any Oreos? I totally want to try toothpaste Oreos. You scrape the icing filling out and replace it with toothpaste.”

  Viva knows we always have Oreos. It’s Dad’s favorite cookie.

  “Okay,” I agree. “We’ll do the Oreo trick on a few cookies and then move on. I only want Dad to eat them.”

  We probably do more than we mean to, but once we start it’s really hard to stop. We hide them in the back of the cabinet so Dad won’t find them until tomorrow. Then we move on to the other pranks on our list.

  “I’ve never done newspapers in shoes,” I say. So Viva shows us how to ball up sheets of newspaper and shove them into the toes of Mom’s and Dad’s shoes. We can’t tie the chairs together this afternoon because we eat in the dining room every night, but we do find an old pair of binoculars and use some of Sharon’s makeup to draw on the eyepiece. Mom and Dad are not birdwatchers, so I’ll have to come up with a good excuse for one of them to look through them, but I’ll deal with that later. We also collect Dad’s underwear to hide in the closet where the cleaning supplies are kept. Viva won’t carry any of Dad’s underwear because she says it’s just gross. We agree with her, but Lonnie stretches the waistband of one pair and shoots it down the stai
rs. “Watch out, Darth Vader!” he screams. “You’re no match against the Jedi Master UNDERWEAR-Gun Di!”

  That gets us giggling so much that Lonnie and I drop most of Dad’s underpants on the stairs.

  SOMETIMES DOING SOMETHING WRONG IS SO MUCH FUN

  That’s when Caitlin and Casey walk in. They are sweaty and stinky and clearly have been out collecting trash.

  We quickly scoop up the underwear (even Viva!) and shove them into the closet before Caitlin and Casey notice what we’re doing. We sit down in the kitchen and try to stifle all the laughs we have in us. It is not easy.

  “Hey, Teddy,” Caitlin says. “Some kid named Lewis said to say hi.”

  “We pick up garbage from his family,” Caitlin says.

  “I’m starving,” Casey says.

  “Me too,” Caitlin says, rummaging in the cabinet.

  Caitlin pulls out the Oreos. “Especially after collecting so much trash.”

  Casey pauses. “Are you saying you collected more?”

  “Do I need to answer that?”

  Before I can stop them, they each take a bite. Instantly, their faces change and they spit it out. And instantly we stop laughing.

  “Casey, what day is it?” Caitlin says.

  “The day before April Fools’ Day.”

  “Funny,” they say. “Real funny.”

  “It wasn’t meant for you,” Viva says. “We swear.”

  They put their hands on their hips. “We’ll forgive you this one time,” they say. “But don’t try it again.” And they walk away.

  Lonnie, Viva, and I are very quiet until we’re sure they’re upstairs. Then Lonnie says, “Sometimes doing something wrong is so much fun.”

  Then we crack up, because it turns out that the day before April Fools’ Day is as funny as April Fools’ Day.

  HOW TO RUIN A DAY

  After Lonnie and Viva leave, I go feed the pigeons. I know The Destructor is still out with Mom, so I’ll have the whole place to myself unless Grumpy Pigeon Man comes out, which he does.

  “Broken any new records?” he asks.

  “Not yet,” I say.

  “I saw Lonnie and Viva were here. They didn’t want to see the pigeons?”

  “They couldn’t,” I say. “Not enough time.”

  “Of course not. No time for anything except breaking records.” He sighs, and it sounds just like our cat, Smarty Pants, when she sneezes.

  “I’m back!” The Destructor crashes through the door. The pigeons flutter around. Of course Grumpy Pigeon Man doesn’t tell him to be quiet.

  The Destructor holds out his hand. “Want one?” he asks Grumpy Pigeon Man. He’s carrying a bunch of Oreos. “Mom said I should share.”

  “How thoughtful,” Grumpy Pigeon Man says.

  “Where’d you get those?”

  “From the house, of course!”

  I know I should say something, but my April Fools’ Day brain stops me. I watch them bite into the toothpaste Oreos, waiting for a reaction.

  “Yummy,” The Destructor says.

  “Is this a new flavor? It’s so minty,” Grumpy Pigeon Man says.

  I walk back to the house and leave them with their cookies. Those two really know how to ruin April Fools’ Day.

  MY FAVORITE INVENTIONS

  When I walk back into the kitchen I grab the book Ms. Raffeli gave me for homework and settle down to start reading. My book is all about African American inventors. Ms. Raffeli told us to write up three facts, but this book is so great I’ve already found four, and I’m only halfway through!

  So far these are my favorite inventors and their inventions:

  1. George Crum: inventor of the potato chip. (I love potato chips.)

  2. Marie Van Brittan Brown: inventor of the first home security system. (I wish I had one to warn me when The Destructor is in the aviary.)

  3. Garrett Morgan: inventor of the traffic signal. (Sometimes I think we could use a traffic signal in our house—especially concerning the bathroom.)

  4. Lonnie G. Johnson: inventor of the Super Soaker squirt gun. (The best water pistol ever—Lonnie will love this!)

  SURPRISE

  I’m still reading about inventors when Grace walks into the kitchen. I know my feet are safe from her because I have them tucked under the table right next to The Destructor, who has made another nest.

  She surprises me by hitting me in the head with a rolled-up newspaper and then tossing it in front of me. It’s her school newspaper. Right there on the very front page is a picture of my tent and me! The headline reads: Teddy Mars: World Record Breaker! “I still can’t believe they wanted this story,” Grace says. “Where’s the news in this? It’s old. It’s boring. And it’s about you!”

  I have to say, I agree with her. Why would the middle school newspaper want a story about me sleeping in a tent longer than anyone else my age? Then I start reading the article, and it’s like I’m reading about someone else. It’s actually interesting.

  Grace walks over to the cabinet to look for a snack. “Now they want another story,” she says. “But they’ve rejected all my ideas. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have to be known for something more than my nut-o brother.” She digs around, clearly not happy with what she sees. “Mom needs to buy some better snacks.” She reaches and pulls out the Oreos.

  Before I can explain that those are for Dad, she pops one in her mouth. Her face collapses. “Blech!” She sticks out her tongue and wipes it with her hand.

  The Destructor sticks his head out from under the table. “If you’re not going to finish that, I will.”

  Grace backs me into a corner. “Very funny,” she says.

  “They weren’t for you,” I say.

  Grace slams on my foot and walks away.

  “Gosh,” The Destructor says. “I guess she doesn’t like those cookies.” He scoots back into his nest and I’m left cradling my foot and remembering how dangerous April Fools’ Day can be.

  And it’s not even April Fools’ Day yet!

  APRIL

  APRIL FOOLS’ DAY

  I wake up to The Destructor jumping up and down on my stomach like he’s breaking the record for most seat drops on a trampoline (49 in one minute).

  “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” he hollers.

  I leap out of bed. “What time is it?”

  “April Fools’ Day!” he shouts. I look at my clock and it’s four in the morning. An hour and a half before I normally wake up. Everyone else is still asleep.

  “What is wrong with you?” I ask.

  “It’s April Fools’ Day. I didn’t want you to miss it.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I crawl back into bed. I’m pretty much wide awake, and so is The Destructor, who is climbing into his pigeon costume.

  “I’m going out to the birds. You want to come?”

  “It’s a little early, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “It’s never too early for the birds. First one there’s the winner!” he says, and runs out of our room.

  I scramble out of bed.

  Considering how short his legs are, he is fast, but I fly down the stairs and pass him at the front door.

  The Destructor will not beat me to the aviary.

  NEVER

  The Destructor is only a few seconds behind me. But I still get there first, which means I am the winner. Unlike me, who starts work as soon as I walk into the aviary, The Destructor immediately sits down on a bucket and stares at the pigeons.

  While I’m outside filling up the water bucket, Grumpy Pigeon Man shuffles out of his house. “What in the name of pigeon is going on here? Is this some kind of joke? You’re early! And in your pajamas!”

  I’m too tired to explain. I carry the bucket into the loft, the screened-in part of the aviary. Grumpy Pigeon Man follows me. “Oh, I see Pigeon Boy is here.”

  The Destructor waves to Grumpy Pigeon Man, who sits down next to him.

  I’m timing the birds, because they are only allowed to eat for ten minutes, and the
n I have to take the food away. I guess if the food was left out, pigeons would just keep eating until they got sick. I’m counting seconds in my head because I don’t have a watch.

  Grumpy Pigeon Man says, “Do you see those birds?” He’s talking to The Destructor, but I can’t help looking over. He points to four birds huddled together on a perch. I know those birds. Lonnie, Viva, and I named them: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Stass Allie, Yoda, and Ima-Gun Di. He says, “I got those birds from a one-eyed sailor.”

  “Really?” The Destructor says. I start to ask if that’s true but stop, because I remember he isn’t talking to me.

  “Would I lie to you?” Grumpy Pigeon Man says. “I was a sailor, and a shipmate of mine kept these pigeons.”

  “Sailors are supposed to have parrots,” The Destructor says.

  “What kind of sailor would want a parrot on a ship?” Grumpy Pigeon Man shakes his head. “Too noisy. And the pigeons can carry messages. Attach a note to its foot and let it go. Pigeons are the mail carriers of the skies. Parrots can’t do that.”

  I admit it is very hard to know if Grumpy Pigeon Man is making up this story or not. It’s also hard to watch him being so nice to The Destructor when all he does is grump at me. And right then he says, “Tent Boy, ten minutes is up. Get on with your work, or Pigeon Boy will do it for you.”

  I jump to it, moving quickly to take the food away. The Destructor may get the good stories, but he will never have my job.

  Never.

  MY TO-DO LIST #7

  Mom’s making breakfast for me when The Destructor comes back home. He’s yakking to Mom all about Grumpy Pigeon Man. To block out the noise I pull out my list. It’s already so messy it’s hard to read. I get a clean piece of paper and start a new one. It’s satisfying to start a new list, but totally disappointing that nothing ever changes on it.

  1. Invent a way to keep The Destructor far from me.