That got the fly’s attention. It whipped its huge head around, flicked its wings twice, and rubbed its hairy legs together.
“You’d better say your prayers!” I yelled. ”’Cause you done messed with the wrong cowgirl!”
I swung my floss lasso wide and slung it with all my might. It hit its mark and noosed that vermin right around the neck. That critter bucked and kicked and tried to free itself with four of its legs. Its pardner circled Toddlandia, stirring up so much dander and debris we could scarcely see. “Get yerself some rocks from the playground!” I called above the clamor. “Use the rubber bands from the swings and pair up to make catapult thingies.” The fly started to lift off, dragging me with it. “Make tracks, tinhorns!”
I was high enough off the ground now to see the sock traveling west across the Fiber Forest like a duck on water.
“Let ’er rip!” I cried to my swing-shot posse, letting go of the lasso.
“For Toddlandia!” Lewis whooped as he ran out of the library, hurling books at the air. Herman crawled out then, too, and commenced to ordering everybody around.
But by that time those demon dive-bombers had their hides so full of rocks from our swing-shots that they zipped out of our neck of the woods and headed straight for the sock.
“I don’t reckon they’ll be showin’ their carcasses around here any time soon,” I said to my amigos. “Mighty proud of all y’all!”
There were a few wimpified cheers, but most of the Toddlians jest collapsed where they stood.
One who was still standin’ was Little Cynthia, who came up to me and pulled on my chaps fringe. “I’m hungry,” she whined. In a minute, everybody else started bellyachin’ about there bein’ next to nothin’ to eat.
Herman climbed to the top of the playground slide. “My valiant Toddlians, your heroism this day will be recorded in the annals of Toddlian history as a glorious and victorious battle.”
“If you keep throwin’ away our food, we’ll be history, and there won’t be anybody left alive to write nothin’,” I pointed out.
The others mumbled in agreement.
“I admit, my hastily formed plan was flawed.” He eyeballed the sock. “Did anyone see from whence the flies flew in? Perhaps we could find a means of blocking their way of entering our territory.”
Lewis stood in the center of the teeter-totter, his wobbly knees knockin’ like a newborn calf. He pointed, wide-eyed. “They came from … the Red Thing!”
The people began bemoanin’ their fate, which was lookin’ purty grim.
Herman nodded. “Yes, I see that Todd still has not disposed of the offensive object. Friends, I know that we were disappointed in the maiden voyage of The Exodus …”
“Maiden voyage?” I scoffed. “Maiden voyage to the bottom of the sea, mebbe.”
Herman narrowed his eyes at me. “Nevertheless, this attack makes the danger in our situation clear. While that rotten apple remains, it’s only a matter of time before this happens again. Toddlandia is under siege. Conditions can only deteriorate as long as we are out of favor with His Toddness. We now have nothing with which to nourish ourselves, no water supply, our huts are in shambles … For some reason our god has set his face against us. Which clearly means—”
“That I need to talk to him again!” Lewis said, all desperate-like.
Herman shook his head. “No, my tenderhearted friend. There is no time left for that. As William Mather Lewis said, ‘The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.’ Our days are numbered if we remain any longer here. We must begin life anew. Therefore, all our efforts must be toward my new new plan, Operation Anchors Aweigh. Time is of the essence. Let me explain …”
I let him explain away and kept to my own counsel. One thing I knew for sure: I was plumb relieved there hadn’t been a vote to tally. I’d have felt regretful about saying “nay” to keeping Todd.
But votin’ against Lew? That woulda broke my heart right down the middle.
CHAPTER 12
I was swimming in a secluded cove, floating on my back while Charity danced around on the beach in a cheesy bee costume, complete with sparkly pom-pom antennae. She waved to me and laughed, then skipped over to a palm tree, climbed it, and started hurling coconuts at my head.
“Hey! Stop that!” I hollered, sitting up … in my bed?
It had been a dream, except something was PING, PING, PINGing against my window. Somebody was pelting it with pebbles! I shuffled over to the window and looked out.
Lucy?
I rubbed my eyes and strained to see without my glasses. Lucy waved like she was landing an airplane, motioning for me to come outside. I sighed and slipped on my robe and a pair of super-fuzzy polka-dot slipper socks I’d borrowed from my mom ever since the Toddlians took over my real slippers.
I hugged my robe around me as I walked out into the cool October night. Lucy was standing under the big tree in our backyard, staring up at the starry sky.
“That’s Ursa Major,” she said, pointing up at the Big Dipper. “The Bear.” Lucy looked at me with shiny eyes. “Sorry for waking you, Todd. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure,” I said, still not really sure why I was there.
Lucy took a deep breath and exhaled, making a little cloud. “Oh, cool! Condensation.” She flipped her wild, crazy-curly hair over her shoulder. “You know what causes that? It’s the carbon dioxide and the moisture from your mouth and lungs. Inside your lungs the molecules can move freely because it’s warm, but out here …” Lucy shivered and seemed to forget what she was saying.
“But out here?” I repeated.
“Oh, yeah. In order for water to stay in its gas form as a vapor, it requires energy to keep the molecules moving. They lose energy in the cold and have to ‘huddle’ together—forming a fog, as it were, of tiny droplets.”
“Umm … did you wake me up to talk about breath clouds?”
Lucy giggled nervously. “No. I’ll get to the point. Have you heard of the Fall Ball that the community center’s hosting?”
“The big dance? Yeah, but …” Oh, man. Was she going to ask me to go with her?
She nodded and leaned into my face. “Duddy asked me to go with him after you and Charmaine left.”
I was too shocked to correct her. My sleep fog started to lift, and I realized why Duddy had been at Lucy’s house this afternoon … and why he’d stayed. He liked Lucy! Wait—he liked Lucy?
She wrapped her arms around herself, still shivering. “It kind of freaked me out. After all, dancing requires close proximity to your partner. Close enough for philematology.” She glanced over at me and then quickly looked away.
“Fill-a-whatta?”
“You know, the anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicularis oris muscles in a state of contracting.”
“Huh?”
Lucy pointed to her lips and leaned toward me. “Kissing! Don’t you think we’re too young to exchange saliva and all that gross stuff? Shouldn’t we save that kind of contact until we’ve at least cleared puberty by a few years?”
I took a step back. The thought of my two best friends smooching made me feel all wiggly and gross, like touching a slug. Ew! And besides, that would ruin everything! Couldn’t Duddy see that?
Lucy closed the distance between us. “Anyway, aren’t dances just vestiges of a materialistic Disney Channel lifestyle that promotes the Puberty-Is-One-Big-Party-Just-Believe-In-Yourself-and-Boogie-the-Night-Away tripe they feed the tween crowd? Isn’t all this musical pairing up and happily-ever-aftering really a big ruse to promote fifties-era femininity and sell makeup? It’s all about commercialism, conformity to the Ken-and-Barbie culture, and preserving the archaic idea of a patriarchal society, I mean …” She looked up at me. Her face was red. She took a deep breath. “Don’t you think?”
Wow. She was worked up. “Erm … I didn’t really get much of that.” I tried to change the subject. “Wait, you don’t like the Disney Channel? Because I think Phineas
and Ferb is pretty funny.”
Lucy sighed the way she does when she gives me her you cretin! look. But instead she sat on the bench under the tree and patted it for me to join her. The stone was cold, and I wrapped my robe tighter around me.
“Cute slipper socks,” she said. “Are those Totes Toasties? My grandma has a pair of those.”
I suddenly regretted my fashion decision. “Um, I don’t know. My mom got them. They keep my feet warm.”
“Speaking of warming things up, Todd, don’t you think that kids our age are too young for the whole dating scene?” She was staring me right in the eye.
Was she right? Were we too young to date? Well, I’d walked home with Charity, and we had been going to get dressed up and role-play together …
I shrugged. “I dunno. I feel like maybe we’re old enough to date. You know, if we find the right person.” I stood, eager to get back to my room and away from this conversation.
But when I turned back, I saw that Lucy had dropped her eyes and was sighing again. I almost felt bad.
“Look, I’m just tired, and I don’t really know what you want me to tell you.”
Her hair hid most of her face as she bent her head toward mine. “Tell me whether or not I should say yes.”
What was I supposed to say? Duddy must’ve been pretty gaga for her to skip playing Dragon Sensei and listen to all her atomic gibberish. It was a no-brainer what he’d want me to do, and after all, he was my best friend. “Sure. Duddy’s a great guy. Tell him you’ll go with him.”
“Oh,” Lucy said in a tiny voice. She shook her hair out of her face and stared at her folded hands. I was getting the sense that I’d said totally the wrong thing. Again.
I stood up and stretched. “Well, listen, I’m going back to bed. It’s really late, you know, and public school starts early …” She didn’t respond or even look up at me. “Good night, Lucy,” I said softer, and then I reached out and patted her slumped shoulder. She looked up at me in surprise. I was kind of surprised too.
Why did I do that? I didn’t waste any more time in turning around and shuffling back inside.
CHAPTER 13
When I walked up to the school steps the next morning, Duddy gave me a huge bear hug. I peeled him off me and looked around to make sure nobody’d seen us. “Dude, what are you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, grinning like a maniac. “But I have the best news! You’ll never guess.”
“Lucy said yes.” I thought that might simmer him down, but I thought wrong.
“Yesssss!” he said with a flying fist pump. “She texted me this morning and said she’d be deeeelighted to go with me to the Fall Ball!” He stopped celebrating long enough to wonder: “Hey! How’d you know that? Who told you I’d asked her?”
“Really, Dud? You’d rather build some hi-tech clock than play Dragon Sensei?” I tapped my temple. “It’s not rocket science.”
He giggled and blushed. “Even Ike and Wendell have dates! They asked a couple of girls on their Odyssey of the Minds team. I guess they got to know them building some kind of underwater colony using pop bottles. Cool, huh?”
Ike and Wendell have dates too? It was an epidemic! What was happening to all my friends?
Then I spotted a gorgeous girl giving us the Saki Salute across the courtyard. Charity. What was happening to me?
We saluted back as she approached. “You should totally ask her to the dance, Todd,” Duddy whispered. “I bet she’s dying for you to!”
I didn’t answer him. Watching Charity walk toward me, her hair glistening in the early morning sunlight, her smile just for me, I tried to imagine what it’d be like to dance with her to a slow song. Suddenly my throat felt all tight, and I started to sweat.
Then there was my little chat with Lucy last night, when she told me she thought dances were dumb. Was she right? I wasn’t sure, but something about what she’d said had me feeling weird about asking Charity to the Fall Ball.
The thing is, if dances were so dumb, why was Lucy going?
• • •
Well, this is it,” I said to Duddy, as we parted ways in the hall. I was headed to music (Charity’s idea; she was taking it, too) since being on the swim team got me out of gym and added a new elective to my schedule. “Think you can handle being on your own?”
Duddy shrugged. “Sure! I’m not worried.” That was good, because I was worried enough for the both of us. “Besides, Ernie will be my bodyguard, won’t you, Ernie?”
Ernie was waiting by the door to escort Duddy into gym class. Since it seemed Catttthhaaaaandra hadn’t succeeded in getting them on the badminton team yet, he’d been added to our old gym class. “Of courth!” he said around his retainer. “Thath what friendth are for! Thothe guyth won’t meth with Duddy, I thwear it.” He held his hand out to me, and I shook it.
If you’d had told me a few weeks ago that our former elementary school tormentor, Ernie “Swirly Lord” Buchenwald, would be pledging to protect Duddy, I’d have said you were certifiable. But middle school is a strange place.
As if to prove that true, a giant girl with frizzy, flaming red hair came barreling around the corner and bulldozed into Ernie … on purpose. He belly-flopped onto the floor.
Normally I would have expected him to jump up and pummel her. Instead, Ernie stood, wheezing like he was having a coronary. He was laughing that hard. Reaching up, he pulled her down into a headlock.
“Thith afternoon, lother! YOU. ME,” she said, and then nodded at Duddy. “Dragon Mathter here. BADMINTON! HAW HAW!”
The girl wrestled free from Ernie’s grip and picked him up from behind like he was a little kid. She had to have been six feet tall, with the shoulders of a linebacker. But the biggest thing about her was her retainer. It made Ernie’s look minuscule.
She swung him around in a circle a couple of times. He laughed so hard his retainer shot out and hit the gym-door glass, leaving a big spitty spot. Then she dropped him and lumbered off toward the seventh grade hall. “LATER, LOTHERTH!”
“That was Cassandra,” Ernie said, as if there was any confusion. He stared dreamily after her as he picked his retainer up.
“You know, Ernie’s new friend,” Duddy explained, wiggling his eyebrows.
Ernie sighed. He wiped his retainer on his sleeve and popped it back into his mouth, still staring down the seventh grade hall. “And perhapth thomething more.” He turned to us with a goofy metal grin. “You thould thee her hit a thuttlecock. Thee can really thlam that thucker!” He wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what it ith about her … thee’th jutht tho bewitching.”
Duddy rolled his eyes, and I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.
“So, Ernie,” I said casually, “are you taking your badminton babe to the dance?”
“Oh,” Ernie said, drooling, “I can only hope. Tho far I haven’t got up the guth to athk her.”
The warning bell rang, and Duddy and Ernie walked into gym without me.
I looked at Charity and smiled. But as we turned around and strolled toward the music room, part of me really wished I was heading into the gym with Ernie and Duddy.
• • •
Afternoon announcements notified the WAVES that we were back in the water after school. Practice was back on, and I was looking forward to improving my strokes minus Max. I walked out of the dressing room and joined the other swimmers, who were splashing around in the shallow end. A shrill whistle split the air, and everybody froze. We all looked toward the sound, and a collective shudder ran through the pool.
Instead of nice but slightly neurotic Madame Dauphinee, Terrifying Coach Tomlin descended the bleachers. He marched over to us, whistle between his teeth.
My heart stopped. What’s he doing here? I looked around at my fellow WAVES. Everyone looked as confused as I was.
“All right, you water lilies!” Coach Tomlin bellowed. “Your days of wine, roses, and crêpes are OVER! Madame Dauphinee has taken a leave of a
bsence. Starting now, I’m your new swim coach, and I’m going to make real athletes out of you wet sandwiches!”
What was he talking about? Was Madame Dauphinee out for good?
A simultaneous moan rose up from the older kids. Even us sixth graders had heard the horror stories: running endless suicides; impossible obstacle courses, complete with punji sticks and slime pits; and his infamous “chuck-ups,” which were piggyback push-ups for being late. (Apparently doing fifty push-ups with a passenger pretty much guaranteed you would upchuck.)
Coach Tomlin blew another earsplitting whistle. “Get your keisters out of that pool and line up. Pronto!” We pulled ourselves out of the water and lined up, but it wasn’t fast enough for The Ogre. “Move it! Move it! Move it!”
Once we were ready for inspection, he crossed his arms and looked us over. I’d never seen him up close, but the man was built like a tank. For a guy his age, he was amazingly ripped. I felt like a teeny, helpless little Toddlian as he studied me. It actually made me wonder how I looked to them. He shook his head, then moved his glare down the line.
When he’d finished “inspecting” the team, Blaine Simons, a skinny eighth grade boy with white-blond hair, spoke up: “Uh, when is Madame Dauphinee coming back?”
Coach Tomlin turned to him with a laser-like glare. “What, am I not good enough for you?”
Blaine sputtered. “No, it’s just—just—”
“JUST WHAT?” Coach Tomlin thundered. “You think I don’t have anything better to do than babysit a bunch of gym-shy tadpoles? Miss Dauphinee isn’t coming back from Provence till next year at the earliest. I’ve gone out of my way to adjust my schedule to whip you limp pollywogs into shape. THANK ME.”
The “initiated” older kids shouted, “THANK YOU, SIR!” and the rest of us caught on quick.
“WHAT WAS THAT?”
“THANK YOU, SIR!” everybody screamed.
Coach Tomlin gave us a curt nod. “That’s better. Now”—he went down the line, poking his stubby finger into faces—“you, you, you, you, and”—he got to me and smushed his finger into my nose—“you, get in the water and show me what you’re made of. NOW!”
In Todd We Trust Page 10
