Almost a Winner

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Almost a Winner Page 10

by Molly B. Burnham


  “Are you asking for advice from me?”

  “No way.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m punishing you for ruining my career. The only story they want now is about kids doing wacky things. I’m a serious reporter. This was not supposed to happen.”

  Mom walks in with a bag of groceries just as Grace slams on my foot.

  “Ow!” I howl.

  “Teddy,” Mom says. “Quiet down. Jake is napping under the table. I don’t know why he’s so tired lately.”

  “Maybe he wakes up too early,” I suggest.

  “I’m not tired!” The Destructor hollers from under the table. “And I wasn’t napping!”

  I hop out of the room and take my list with me. Mom just gave me another idea.

  4. Keep him awake all night so that he sleeps all day.

  FRIED EGG

  Later that afternoon, I look at the clock on the kitchen wall and head out to the aviary to feed the pigeons. I know The Destructor will be there, because he wasn’t in the house. What I didn’t know is that he’d be pretending to fly around. “Coo! Coo!” When he sees me, he stops and says, “We’re letting them out.”

  Some people might not know what this means, but I do. The pigeons are going to fly free. Grumpy Pigeon Man hasn’t let them out for months.

  “I was going to feed them,” I say.

  “You feed them after they fly, not before,” Grumpy Pigeon Man says. “Or else they won’t come home.”

  Grumpy Pigeon Man opens the door and shoos the pigeons through it. The Destructor runs around helping him.

  At first they don’t know what to do and flutter down on the roof, until Admiral Ackbar takes to the sky, and then they all follow. They fly up, staying together and flapping around in a circle.

  “You haven’t let them out in a long time,” I say.

  “Have to wait for the leaves to come out on the trees.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Protection.”

  Sometimes I wonder if he talks like this just to make me ask questions. “From what?” I ask.

  “From hawks, of course,” The Destructor interrupts. “Hawks are the enemy to pigeons.” Grumpy Pigeon Man must have already told him all about this. It’s the only way he’d know.

  “When I was a sailor, it was seagulls we had to worry about.” Grumpy Pigeon Man stares into the sky. “Here it’s the hawks.”

  The Destructor holds up his slingshot.

  “What are you doing with that?” I ask.

  “Remember?” he says. “Protector of pigeons?”

  I leave those two and go to my backyard. I lie down in the grass to watch the pigeons flying.

  Suddenly, something hits me. I’m pretty sure it’s bird poo, because it has happened before. I stand up and look, but it’s not bird poo, it’s a fried egg! A very cold fried egg.

  “Can I have my egg back?” The Destructor yells through the fence.

  “You hit me with a fried egg?”

  “I wasn’t aiming at you. I thought I saw a hawk.”

  “So how come I got hit?”

  “I can’t control where they land.”

  He climbs over the fence. “I really need my egg back,” he says, snatching for it. He grabs his egg and, as he climbs back over to Grumpy Pigeon Man’s yard, shouts, “At least it isn’t runny!”

  That might be the one thing The Destructor and I have ever agreed on.

  THAT NIGHT

  While The Destructor is asleep, I sneak over to him and pick up his wrist. Nothing wakes him. I take off his watch, turn off the alarm, and stick it in my sock drawer. This was not on my list of possible ways to keep The Destructor out of the aviary, because I just thought of it as I was going to bed. And even though I like the superglue idea more, this is much easier. Without his watch, he won’t wake up, and the aviary will be mine once more.

  My job is done.

  THAT MORNING

  I wake up. I look over at The Destructor’s bed. He’s still fast asleep. I sneak out of the room and go to the bathroom. I’ve left all my clothes there so I won’t wake him while I get dressed. Of course I forgot to get socks, so I duck back into our room and open my sock drawer. I’m just about to close it when a beep, beep, beeping starts up. I freeze, but the beeping keeps going. That’s when I start looking for the watch. I know I turned the alarm off, so why is it beeping? I dig through my socks.

  I pull it out right when he asks, “How’d my watch get in there?”

  “Weird,” I say, handing him the watch. “Very weird.” I head out of the room, followed by The Destructor’s footsteps.

  A WHOLE WEEK

  Strange but true, the fastest thing in the universe is the speed of light. But scientists have discovered these particles called neutrinos that I guess are maybe even faster. For me, however, the fastest thing in the world is school because I’ve never had so much fun!

  We’ve been working nonstop on our inventions. The dog looks great. Ny painted it black and brown, and Cornelio drew really cute eyes and a nose. And we all worked on the part that collects the poo. It’s incredible!

  We made a frame that goes on the dog. We attached the train track to the frame with wire. Then we attached a bag to a clothes hanger that we hooked onto the track. The bag hangs down under the dog. When there is something heavy in the bag, like poo, the train track bends, and that makes the hanger slide along the track and away from the dog, so the person walking the dog can tie up the bag and throw it away. It’s really great.

  The other inventions are pretty good, too.

  Lonnie, Viva, Serena, and Max’s battery-operated trash compactor works really good on soft, mushy things. They know this because they put an old plastic bucket in it, and the compactor, which is actually a box, broke. Luckily for them, their invention still works, but now it’s covered in duct tape. It was a good thing Viva’s family had a lot of duct tape!

  The Go Kid Go Wagon is also pretty cool. It’s like a giant windup toy. It can fit three kids, but Ms. Raffeli won’t let us try it out in the hall because she’s so worried about spies.

  The musical blanket has really taken off. It turns out we all want to snuggle with something that is soft, cozy, and plays music.

  After doing all this work on our invention, I understand Ms. Raffeli a lot better. And now even without a prize, I really want to win. I think that’s true for the whole class.

  But I have to say, I’m not worried. I feel it in my bones. Our invention is sure to win.

  MORE PLASTIC BAGS?

  Besides the inventions going so well, our plastic bag ball keeps growing. It’s as tall as five desks, as wide as the bookcase, and lives in the classroom library.

  After the other kids in the class heard about what we were doing, they started bringing in bags, too. We had to swear them to secrecy, which wasn’t a problem since we all understand that grown-ups don’t always appreciate the same things kids do—like breaking world records for example. Occasionally, Ms. Raffeli asks if we have enough bags now. We nod, but then we bring more in anyway. So far, this strategy is working for us.

  Thanks to Caitlin and Casey, I always bring in a lot of bags. But also, Lonnie and Viva made a bunch more posters asking for plastic bags for their trash masher. They stuck them all over school.

  After they put up the posters, we got so many donations that we had to set up a bin in the front hall so people had a place to leave their bags. I have a feeling most of the kids in the school know we’re trying to break a record, but somehow they also know not to say a word to any teachers.

  Sometimes Ms. Raffeli notices all the bags. But she’s got so much on her mind that she doesn’t think about it for too long.

  At least, that’s what I think.

  THE BATHROOM

  Mom has decided to totally redo the downstairs bathroom.

  By redo I do mean destroy.

  “Easter is this weekend,” she says. “And Gran is coming. I want this bathroom to be in working order. I’m pu
tting in a new sink, and of course a new toilet.”

  I’m glad she’s replacing the toilet, but it means we only have one bathroom to use as a bathroom.

  Mom must know what I’m thinking, because she says, “Don’t worry. I’ll be done in two days. Three days at the most.”

  I hope she’s right. Boy, do I hope she’s right.

  MY TO-DO LIST #12

  Now that Mom reminded me about Easter, I can’t stop thinking about dyeing eggs. I love dyeing eggs. Mom always bought loads of eggs, but now that she’s making Dad do the grocery shopping, I’m worried he’ll forget to buy them. He forgets to buy a lot of stuff, like my favorite cereal, for instance. And even though weeks ago we had cartons of eggs, now with Dad in charge, we don’t have any.

  I pull out my list. It’s looking pretty shabby, torn, and hard to read. I think it went through the laundry. So, I throw it away and start a brand-new one. A list with a lot less words so I won’t get distracted or forget a thing. I think I’m finally getting the hang of the to-do list.

  1. Buy eggs

  2. Dye eggs

  3. Plastic bags

  4. Inventors’ fair

  5. The Destructor

  LARGEST EXPLOSIONS IN THE SOLAR SYSTEM

  We’re coloring in the poster about our invention when I realize that as great as our invention is, something is missing. “We’ve been thinking so much about the invention,” I say, “but not the presentation. People need something to look at. Something to remember.”

  “How do we do that?” Ny asks.

  Then I gasp. I bounce up and down. “Why didn’t we think of this before? The blanket makes music. The trash compactor compacts. The Go Kid Go Wagon goes. Our dog needs to poo!”

  “Poo?” Cornelio says.

  “Poo?” Ny says.

  “I was not going to say that,” Lewis says.

  “Not real poo. Fake poo,” I say.

  Ms. Raffeli comes over right then. “Did someone say poo?” There is something very weird about your teacher using the word poo, but I get over it quick because I’m so excited about my idea.

  “I did!” I say. “We don’t just invent poo, but even better, we invent a way for the poo to actually come out of the dog, so everyone sees the invention in action!”

  Lewis, Ny, and Cornelio look at me like I just broke the record for fastest woman to run the 100-meter hurdles in swim flippers (18.523 seconds). Yes, running and jumping in swim flippers!

  There are a few moments of silence, and then Ms. Raffeli says, “I love it! I absolutely love it.” She wipes her eyes. I think I made her cry from happiness.

  As incredible as massive explosions on the sun must be, making your teacher cry from joy—twice in one year—is even more incredible!

  PULLING OUT NAILS

  At lunch, things are a little strange. Lonnie and Viva sit across from Lewis and don’t talk.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Viva rolls her eyes. “Two weeks to go and someone thinks we aren’t doing enough to break the record.” She jerks her eyeballs across to Lewis.

  Lewis glares at her. “You said I wasn’t doing enough.”

  “She didn’t say that,” Lonnie says. “She said Teddy was bringing in the most bags.”

  “I’ve been counting all those bags,” Lewis says.

  Viva sighs. “I know you have.”

  Lewis puts his sandwich down. “You couldn’t break this record without me.”

  Now Lonnie puts his sandwich down. “That seems like an exaggeration.”

  Ny scoots closer. “Lewis has done a lot.”

  “What about you two?” Cornelio says.

  “We made more posters.” Lonnie sits up straighter.

  Serena says, “That was weeks ago.”

  “It was one week ago,” Viva says. “And I thought you were on our team.”

  “I might be working on an invention with you, but these guys are my friends, too.” She flips her hair and, of course, hits Viva in the face.

  So Viva flips her hair, only because it’s short, it doesn’t hit Serena’s face.

  Then Lewis crosses his arms. “I don’t even know why I agreed to do this with you.”

  And that’s when Lonnie’s and Viva’s mouths drop open like they’re about to break the record for most grapes caught in the mouth in three minutes (233).

  But then they shut them and Viva crosses her arms. “Fine. We do it on our own.”

  Lewis stands up. “Fine. Who’s on my team?” Ny, Cornelio, and Serena raise their hands.

  Then Lonnie stands up. “Who’s with us?” Max and Angus raise their hands.

  Viva looks at me. “What about Teddy?”

  “There’s only one thing to do,” Lonnie says, as if he’s already a Jedi. “We share him. Any bags Teddy brings in are split between us.”

  “You’re joking,” I say.

  Viva says, “Why would you think we’re joking?”

  “That’s what I was going to say.” Lewis glares at her.

  Strange but true, the record for the fastest time to pull 5 nails out of a piece of wood with your teeth is 7.44 seconds. I never thought anyone could pull nails with their teeth, but then again, I never thought our class record would suddenly turn into a competition, and it just did.

  EDISON’S WORDS

  Pulling out nails with your teeth cannot be comfortable. I can say the same for recess today. I hope the afternoon is better. But as we walk back into the classroom, I can tell it won’t be, because as Lewis hangs up his coat, he says, “We’ll have to stay this afternoon and divide the bags.”

  “Fine,” Viva says.

  “No problem.” Lonnie shrugs.

  “I’ll call my mom,” Ny says.

  Cornelio nods. “Me too.”

  “Can anyone think of a way to make fake poo?” I ask. “Pinecones? Sausages? Tootsie Rolls?”

  No one says a word. I think about Edison and what he said about finding ten thousand ways to fail. So I keep talking since I’m not even close to ten thousand, and it’s more fun to think about this than about my friends fighting. “Mud? No, too runny.” And then it comes to me. “Chocolate pudding! Frozen chocolate pudding in the shape of poo.”

  Lonnie, Viva, and Lewis shake their heads at me and go to their desks, which is how I learn that a classroom can be more uncomfortable than pulling nails out of wood with my teeth. Luckily, the thought of making chocolate pudding poo makes everything a lot easier.

  NO ONE EVEN ASKS ME

  Finally it’s the end of the day. Lonnie, Viva, Max, and Angus are standing in one clump. Lewis, Ny, Cornelio, and Serena are huddled in another clump. Ms. Raffeli is in the middle.

  “So let me get this straight,” Ms. Raffeli says. “Now you’re going to divide the bags into two piles? I don’t understand any of it, but if you feel like you need to, go ahead. I’ve got some copying to do.” She walks out. The two groups get to work on the bags.

  It’s weird, but even though there are a million things at home that make me miserable, staying here has to be worse, so I slip away, and to be honest, no one even asks me to stay.

  POO

  That night I toss and turn. I can’t fall asleep. My brain is too mixed up. So I eventually go downstairs to scrounge around for a snack. I’m looking behind all the normal stuff, because we all know Dad hides his favorite snacks, hoping none of us will find them. That’s when I see the instant chocolate pudding! I can’t believe my luck. It’s exactly what I need. I knew Dad loved chocolate pudding, but I didn’t know we had any.

  And since I’m awake anyway, I decide to make it. It’s easy, just add water and stir. After it’s all mixed, I scoop small blobs onto plastic wrap, roll them up in a sausage shape, and stick them in the freezer. They really look like poo!

  Now I’ve just got to think of how to push them out of the dog.

  It’s amazing how much happiness I get from working on my invention. I thought I could only be this happy breaking records. It turns out I was wrong!
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  SO TIRED

  This morning I finally wake up from the beeping noise of a watch. The Destructor is pulling on his pigeon costume. And even though I’m so tired I could use my head holder invention, when The Destructor says, “Don’t worry. I’ll feed the pigeons,” I leap out of bed.

  “Think again, Destructor!”

  “Pigeon Boy!” he screams, and chases me down the stairs. I run to the sink, where I left the dirty chocolate pudding bowl and spoon.

  I grab them and wave them in front of The Destructor’s face. “Look, pudding!” The Destructor cannot resist chocolate. He sticks his head right in the bowl as I race out to the aviary.

  And just as I hoped, I finish all my jobs and he still hasn’t shown up.

  One win for me.

  As satisfying as this is, I know it can’t last—unless, of course, I figure out how to make chocolate pudding every day. And that’s about as likely as me breaking the record for most iron bars bent in one minute (26). So I’m definitely going to have to think of another way to keep him out of the aviary!

  NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW

  The Destructor is under the table grumbling about how I tricked him, while I take out the little frozen poos. Dad walks in as I drop them into a bag with an ice pack to keep them cold.

  “Is that poo?” he asks.

  “It’s for my invention,” I say. He has no idea how happy he just made me.

  “I don’t even want to know,” he says.

  “It’s delicious!” The Destructor says from under the table.

  Dad shakes his head. “Like I said, I don’t want to know.” He walks out of the room.

  I pick up my backpack, and even though the world record doesn’t seem as fun, I did promise my friends I’d bring more bags, so I stop at the front door, grab the big bag of plastic bags that Caitlin and Casey gave to me.

  By the time I get to the blacktop, I’m dragging the bag. Lonnie and Viva see me and rush over to help me.

 

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