9. Dad comes home and asks me why the kitchen is a mess.
EASTER SUNDAY SURPRISE
It’s a holiday, but I still wake up early. I wonder how long it’ll take until I can sleep longer. I was already awake when The Destructor left. I lie in bed for a little, and then I sit up. It’s Easter! That means Easter baskets! Next to Halloween, Easter is the best candy holiday. I run downstairs.
Strange but true, the fish with the most eyes is the six-eyed spookfish. I do not need six eyes to know that The Destructor is already in the kitchen. The sound of crinkling wrappers says it all. This is definitely not the surprise I wanted.
The Destructor lies in the middle of the floor surrounded by candy wrappers. Chocolate is smeared all over his face, and next to him there are two baskets—TWO EMPTY EASTER BASKETS.
The Destructor doesn’t move or say hello. Clearly he’s in some kind of candy haze.
I look on the table and I count five baskets. They are lined up in a perfect row. Each basket has a name on it. I read them: Sharon, Caitlin, Casey, Maggie, and Grace.
I don’t need to, but I crouch down and read the tags of the baskets on the floor: Jake and Teddy.
Suddenly, The Destructor sits up, lets out a moan, and then pukes all over me.
Next year, I’m writing to the Easter Bunny, telling him not to leave a basket for my brother. He doesn’t deserve it.
GOOD-LUCK EGG
If I’d known the vomit smell would stick to me like the record for most sticky notes stuck to a person in five minutes (674), I would have destroyed The Destructor. But I can’t because the doorbell rings and Lonnie’s and Viva’s families arrive at the same time.
Viva’s dad says, “Thanks for inviting us.”
“What’s that smell?” Viva’s mom asks.
Luckily Mom says, “Just so you know, the downstairs toilet is not working,” and leads everyone into the living room.
The Destructor is still out with Grumpy Pigeon Man. Sharon is ignoring Jerome, Caitlin and Casey are ignoring each other, Maggie is talking about running with Gran, who used to be a track star, and Grace is eavesdropping. Or as she tells me it’s called in the newspaper business, “Looking for a good story.”
“Can we hide eggs?” Lonnie asks.
“Oh, I love hiding eggs,” Viva says.
Lonnie and Viva are acting like the whole plastic bag thing never happened, so I do too. I grab the two dozen eggs that we dyed earlier, and we head upstairs. The way the game works is that two of us hide the eggs, and the third person looks. Then we switch.
Lonnie and I are hiding eggs for Viva when Lonnie reaches into my closet. “No!” I sputter. “Don’t hide them there.” I close the door super quick.
“What are you keeping back there? The Millennium Falcon?” He laughs. So do I, but my laughter comes out all choked up.
“It’s just a bunch of The Destructor’s dirty clothes,” I say, which is more like an exaggeration than a lie.
When we’re done hiding the eggs, Viva looks. It doesn’t take her long to find all twenty-four eggs. Then Viva and I hide them for Lonnie.
Lonnie tries to look in the closet, but again I stop him. “We didn’t put any in there.” He moves on until he only has one egg left to find.
He’s under The Destructor’s bed. “Here it is!” He pulls it out.
“That’s twenty-four!” Viva says.
“Wait!” Lonnie says, squeezing under the bed again. “There’s one more.” He reaches way in the back, and passes the last egg to me.
“Strange,” Viva says. “That would make twenty-five eggs.”
“Twenty-five?” I say. And that’s when it cracks all over me.
The stench hits us before we have a chance to move. And by the time we get downstairs, it has consumed everything in its path. Viva’s parents are already on their feet, and Lonnie’s are right behind them.
Mom breathes deeply and then says to The Destructor, “Do you know anything about an egg under your bed?”
“Sure,” he says. “I saved it from last year. It’s my good-luck egg.”
Needless to say, that egg was far from good luck, Easter supper was canceled, and I have to take another shower.
APRIL FOOLS’ DAY STRIKES AGAIN
I’m coming out of my third cleaning of the day. Dad is downstairs putting away the leftovers.
“Want a cookie?” he asks.
I nod. Sometimes Dad knows just what I need. I sit down and he brings me an Oreo and a glass of milk.
The Destructor sidles up next to me. “I’m sorry, Teddy.” I turn my back to him. He comes around to my other side. “I said I’m sorry.” I turn the other way. I don’t want to have anything to do with The Destructor, but he comes around again. “HEY, TEDDY!” he screams in my ear. “CAN’T YOU HEAR ME?”
Dad says, “Time for bed, Jake,” and scoops The Destructor up before he can run away.
The Destructor screams, “But I said I was sorry!”
I don’t hear what Dad answers and I don’t care.
I take a bite of the cookie. “Blech!” April Fools’ Day strikes again.
IN IT TO WIN IT
Going back to school after a long weekend is usually hard, but because of the inventors’ fair, it’s pretty exciting.
Ms. Raffeli stands in front of the class. “There are only four days until the inventors’ fair!” she says. “We want to be sure your inventions work, your posters are complete, and you know what you will do for your presentations.”
Lewis is working on the note cards for our presentation, and Ny and Cornelio are coloring our poster. I’m looking at all the recycled stuff we have in the class to see if anything will help push the poo out. It’s clear that I’m the only person in my group who’s interested in making this work. I know it’s not the invention part, but it seems so important.
At least Ms. Raffeli understands. “As Thomas Edison said, ‘Our greatest weakness lies in giving up.’” Then she says, “Or as I like to say: we’re in it to win it!”
I’ve never actually heard her say this, and it seems kind of corny, but I let it go because I actually feel the same.
GRAN’S ADVICE PART 2
Mom is still working on the downstairs bathroom. Gran decided to go home early, because one bathroom with this many people was just too much for her. She left a note on my pillow that said: Always remember, it’s not important whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.
I have no idea why she wrote this to me, and I can’t help wondering if it was meant for someone else, like my sisters, or The Destructor, or Mom and Dad, who can’t even help each other.
Because the closet is bursting with plastic bags, I switch to my bureau. I stuff them under my pants and in my sweaters. Under my bed is next.
Hiding all these bags is really hard, not only because it’s shocking how many plastic bags people use and throw away, but because every bag is a reminder that I’m not helping my friends.
Then I remember what Gran wrote, about how you play the game being the important thing. My friends are playing the game really badly. All they want is to beat each other, and they don’t care how they do it.
After I think about it that way, I feel okay about what I’m doing. And it turns out Gran’s advice has actually helped me, again!
NO SUCH THING AS PRIVACY
Sharon won’t get out of the bathroom. She’s singing at the top of her lungs, and when I pound on the door, she yells, “You’re not the only one in this family, Teddy!” and keeps on singing.
I am left with no other option.
So I go outside behind a tree in my backyard. The only place I know where there’s a little privacy. But right then The Destructor and Grumpy Pigeon Man come outside with the pigeons. The pigeons fly up and around.
“Teddy!” The Destructor shouts. “Hi!” He waves at me.
“Is there no such thing as privacy?” I holler.
“You want to come over?” The Destructor shouts back.
&nbs
p; Grumpy Pigeon Man says, “Don’t take your eyes off the birds, Pigeon Boy! Your brother has better things to do than help us.”
I zip my fly and walk back inside the house. I want to be as far away from those two as I’d want to be from a Tunisian scorpion (the most venomous scorpion in the world).
Which, now that I think about it, has a lot in common with Grumpy Pigeon Man.
LONGEST CAT FANGS
Three days and counting until the inventors’ fair, and I still don’t know how I’ll get the poo out.
Lewis’s eyes are all scrunched up and he’s looking really serious. I think maybe he’s thinking about the poo problem too. But when I ask him, he shakes his head and says, “Does Lonnie and Viva’s ball look bigger than ours?”
Ny says, “Did you give them more bags, Teddy?”
“Well?” Cornelio says.
“No,” I say; how can they even think that?
Lewis says, “You can’t blame us for wondering. They are your best friends.”
I think about that, and how right now they feel about as much like my best friends as an Eusmilus would. Strange but true, an Eusmilus is something like a saber-toothed cat that lived between thirty-seven and twenty-nine million years ago and holds the record for longest cat fangs (6 inches long). At lunch Lonnie, Viva, Max, and Angus corner me. I can definitely see their fangs.
“Did you give their group bags?” Viva asks.
Lonnie says, “Their ball is looking bigger.”
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation again. I give them the same answer I gave Lewis, Ny, and Cornelio and go back to thinking about poo, which, although it’s gross, is a lot less dangerous.
THE ANSWER
It’s not until I’m back at home and eating my snack that I discover the answer I’ve been looking for. And it’s all thanks to The Destuctor because for once he’s not outside with the pigeons, but is inside playing with the play-dough pasta-making set that Gran gave him. He’s making loads of pasta. He puts the play dough in, presses down, and out comes the pasta. It’s not what I thought I’d use, but it’s a perfect poo crank. Although technically it’s not a crank, it’s more of a pump.
That afternoon when he goes out to feed the pigeons, I slip the set into my backpack. When he comes back, he starts bawling about his missing pasta set, but Dad is too busy with dinner, and Mom is working on the bathroom. And for once I’m glad my parents are so distracted and not helping each other, or else they might actually look in my backpack and that would ruin everything!
TWO DAYS AND COUNTING
Ms. Raffeli doesn’t stop moving. She paces back and forth like she’s part of the largest collection of windup toys (1,042).
“Two days until the inventors’ fair!” Ms. Raffeli says. “Two days!” She wanders around the classroom, checking on each group, making sure all the inventions work.
“Three days until we break a world record,” Ny whispers.
“That’s what I was going to say!” Lewis says.
I’m too focused on our invention to think about the world record. I’ve cut two holes in the dog. One is on the side, so the play-dough pasta kit can fit inside the dog. This hole is big enough for a hand to reach in and pump. The other hole is small and is in the back of the dog. This is where the poo will drop out after it’s been squeezed through. I place one of my frozen chocolate pudding poos in the top and press down.
My heart is beating faster than usual. I’ve been struggling with this for so long. My group is finally paying attention to something besides breaking a world record. I press down harder. The frozen chocolate pudding pushes through the pasta kit, squeezes out the small hole in the back of the dog, and drops into the bag. As it falls, the weight of the poo slides the bag down the track and away from the dog!
“It works! It works!” I shout, jumping up and down.
Lonnie and Viva look over.
“The poo worked,” I say, explaining why I screamed. They scowl.
Lewis sighs. “I was going to bring in something just like that, but my dad said I couldn’t.”
There are a lot of hard records in The Guinness Book of World Records. For example, the fastest time to duct tape a person to a wall (28.53 seconds), the largest Jell-O mosaic (42 feet by 65 feet), and the youngest person to ski to the South Pole (16 years 190 days).
Really, if they can all do those things, you’d think Lewis could stop saying that he was going to say that too.
But I guess he can’t, and I’m so happy right now I don’t even care.
MY TO-DO LIST (I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT NUMBER I’M ON)
1. Win the inventors’ fair (only one day to go).
2. Survive the world record breakers (only two days to go).
WINNER
The next day at school, all we do is practice our invention presentations in front of each other.
Ms. Raffeli doesn’t say much because she’s so busy chewing her nails, even though all the inventions look really good.
Lonnie and Viva’s team have decided to call their invention the Battery-Operated Trash Masher, or BOTM. Lonnie connects a wire to a battery, which makes the motor move the masher up and down. Viva puts a paper cup under the masher and it is smooshed flat as a pancake.
The team with the musical baby blanket goes next. Jasmine B. holds the blanket while Jasmine H. holds a remote control. Jasmine B. pretends to cry like a baby until Jasmine H. presses a button and music starts to play. I have to say, it’s very soothing, except for Angus, who’s so nervous he’s hopping around. That is not soothing.
The Go Kid Go Wagon team has revamped the crank so it goes farther than ever before.
And our group shows off how the poo squeezes out.
At the end of the day Ms. Raffeli says, “Get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, we show the school what winners you are!”
Strange but true, Alain Robert must have felt like a real winner after breaking the record for climbing to the top of the tallest building in the world (2,716 feet) and surviving. I feel the same about the Doggy-Doo Collector.
I’m sure I’m going to be the winner.
CAUGHT
I’m eating a snack when Caitlin and Casey get home. They don’t even say hi. They just weigh their trash, hand me all the plastic bags, and walk away bickering. I go upstairs and shove the bags under my bed.
When I stand up, The Destructor is staring straight at me.
Strange but true, the record for most knives thrown at a person in one minute is 102. The guy who did it practiced for five years before throwing the first knife at a human being.
The Destructor looks at me as if he’d like to break that record on me. Except without any practice.
“I’m saving this stuff for Lonnie and Viva.” Once again I lie. “It’s a surprise.” Then I walk away as fast as I can, because it turns out lying to The Destructor makes me feel lousy.
SABOTAGE
I’m downstairs reading the book Gran gave me when Mom yells, “It’s done! It’s done!” She’s practically dancing across the room. “Try it out,” she says. This seems like a ridiculous thing to ask, but because only The Destructor and I are home right now and she’s pushing me into the bathroom, I don’t have a choice.
I do my business and flush the toilet.
I can’t believe what I see happening. The toilet is not flushing. Instead of the water going down like it’s supposed to, it goes up and up and up until it falls over the sides. I push open the door, and again I can’t believe what is happening.
The door is stuck. I thought she fixed this? “Mom!” I yell. “Mom!” She doesn’t come to help.
It doesn’t matter, though, because my sneakers are already covered in pee water—again!
I push once more and the door opens. The Destructor stares at me from the other side.
“Teddy?” Mom shows up.
“The door was stuck.”
“It couldn’t be.” She opens and closes the door. It doesn’t stick at all.
I
look at The Destructor. I don’t know what he did, but he’s behind this. I know he is.
“What’s all the water on the floor?” Mom asks.
“The toilet overflowed.”
“Oh, phooey!”
She goes to grab the mop, and while she’s gone, The Destructor hisses, “I’m watching you!”
I storm out of the room. I’ll have to do something, because there’s one thing for certain: The Destructor is not going to destroy me not helping my friends break a record. And even though that’s one of the most confusing things I’ve ever thought, there’s no time for me to think about it, because there’s real work to be done.
MOVING THE EVIDENCE
When The Destructor finally leaves to feed the pigeons, I race up to my room and wait until I see him in the aviary. That’s when I make my move. Mom is back in the bathroom fixing the toilet again.
I creep around my room collecting all the bags I’ve hidden. I have three large garbage bags to stuff them all in. I have a plan.
I sneak down the hall with all the bags, then downstairs and into the basement.
The back of the basement is dark and gross. I push past cobwebs and weird shadows until I’m in the farthest corner of the basement. The corner no one goes in. I hide the bags behind an old trunk, where they will never be found.
I run up the stairs as fast as I can, because it’s so creepy down there, it really does give me the willies.
I might know how to outsmart a little brother, but a ghost? I’m not so sure.
MORE NERVOUS THAN I REALIZED
“It’s the big day!” Ms. Raffeli says. “We’ve done everything we can, and I’m proud of each and every one of you!” She explains how each class in the grade goes down one at a time to set up their projects. Because she’s obviously so nervous, she tells us for the third time how the voting works. How each student votes on the invention they like the most, how Principal Johnson tallies the votes, and how the project with the most votes wins.
Almost a Winner Page 12
