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For David, who gets me through the muck
With special thanks to expert consultant Rebecca Rialon Berry, PhD, of the NYU Child Study Center
Chapter 1
My name is Veronica Conti, and what I want, more than anything in the world, is a pet.
“You already have a pet!” my mom always says.
“Mom, you know I love Fred,” I reply. “But I want a pet you can snuggle! And you cannot snuggle a goldfish.”
I found that out the hard way when I was three years old and I tried to cuddle our very first goldfish, Swimmy. I climbed on top of my dresser to reach the tank. Then I stuck my hand in the cold water. I was juuuuuust about to scoop Swimmy up so I could give him a big smooch. But before I could, my big brother, Jude, walked in and screamed his head off.
Right away, Mom and Dad moved the fish tank into their bedroom and put a big, heavy cover on it. With a lock!
So if there is one thing I know, it is that you cannot cuddle, or snuggle, or smooch a goldfish.
You can’t even pet one, for crying out loud. I want a pet you can pet!
So for Christmas every year, I ask my parents for one. I asked this year, too:
I wanted these business cards so that if I met a kid with a problem on the playground or the subway or in a helicopter, I could hand the kid my card and say, “My associates and I can help. Call me.” How cool would that be?
I got almost everything on my Christmas list, except for the business cards. Mom said I wasn’t allowed to give out our phone number. Jude said I wasn’t the president of the Fix-It Friends, because all the members of our group—me, Jude, Cora, and Ezra—are equal. He also told me I was not a doctor.
That is true, but it does make me sound more professional.
But it doesn’t matter anyway, because I didn’t get any business cards for Christmas. Oh, and you know what else I didn’t get?
A pet!
Chapter 2
After we opened all our presents on Christmas morning, Dad went into the kitchen to make chocolate-chip pancakes. My little sister, Pearl, went to help. She is only two years old, so her idea of helping is to eat half of the chocolate chips while Dad is making the batter.
Jude and I helped Mom clean up all the wrapping paper. I like to smash the used-up paper into balls and toss them in a garbage bag, yelling, “SCORE!”
Jude likes to find big pieces of wrapping paper that are not torn too badly. Then he folds them nice and neat, to use for next year.
Guess who gets done faster? This girl.
While we were cleaning, I asked my mom why I didn’t get any of the pets on my Christmas list.
“You know your father’s allergic to anything with fur,” Mom said with a sigh.
“Well, I’m allergic to Jude, and I still have to live with him,” I replied.
Jude scowled at me.
“I’m just kidding,” I said, even though I sort of wasn’t.
Mom tied the top of the big garbage bag. I stuck on the red curly wig I got for Christmas.
I asked for it because my best friend, Cora, who is in the second grade just like me, has red curly hair. She gets everything her heart desires. I think these two things are related. Grown-ups cannot resist her cuteness. So I wanted to see if the magic hair would work for me, too.
“Oh, Mommy Dear,” I said. I always call my mom “Mom” except for when I want something, and then I call her Mommy Dear. “What about a little, teeny, tiny guinea pig? Like Ezra has?”
Mom laughed when she saw me in the wig.
“Nice try,” she said.
“I don’t know why they’re called guinea pigs,” I said. “What is a guinea, anyway?”
“It’s an old kind of money. Also a place in Africa,” said Jude. He is in fourth grade, so he thinks he knows absolutely everything.
I just ignored him and kept talking: “And they don’t look anything like pigs! I mean, Ziggy’s about a million times cuter than a pig, with his long brown fur. He doesn’t sound anything like a pig, either. He doesn’t snort; he squeaks. Every time he sees me, he starts squeaking like crazy. It’s exactly like he is saying, ‘Hi! Let’s play!’”
“Ziggy is so smart,” agreed Jude. “If you say his name, he runs right over to you.”
“Maybe we can visit Ezra and Ziggy this afternoon,” I said hopefully.
“We can’t,” replied Mr. Party Pooper. “Ezra went to Jamaica for Christmas, to see his grandparents.”
Jude always knows exactly where Ezra is because they’ve been best friends since first grade.
“And Cora went to Long Island to visit her grandparents for Hanukkah! So half of the Fix-It Friends are gone! We can’t even have a meeting. How boring can you get?”
I flopped down on the couch and yanked on my wig curls to make them boing! “I wish Nana and Nonno had taken me with them to Italy.”
I really want to go to Italy because my nonno said they have the best ice cream there and you always get free whipped cream on top. Plus, I would like to see if the Leaning Tower of Pisa really does lean over like that. I can’t speak Italian, but I can speak English with an Italian accent, which I learned by copying my grandma—you-a just-a talk-a like-a this-a! So I begged Nana and Nonno to take me with them. But they said they were going for a whole month and I’d miss too much school. “Even better,” I said. They just laughed, even though I was not kidding.
“None of my friends are here,” I grumbled to Mom. “Everyone went somewhere else!”
“Speaking of going places,” said Mom, sitting down next to me on the couch. “Dad and I are taking a little trip, starting on New Year’s Day. I have to go to a conference in California, so we’re turning the trip into a romantic getaway.”
“Ewwww, gross,” Jude and I said at the same time.
Then Jude added, “But who’s going to watch us?”
“Well, that’s the exciting part!” said Mom with a big smile. “We’re having some special guests!”
Jude and I looked at each other and smiled. We knew just who the special guests would be.
“Granny and Gramps! Granny and Gramps! Granny and Gramps!” Jude and I chanted together.
Granny and Gramps are my mom’s parents. They live in Texas, which is where my mom is from. Whenever they visit, they spoil us rotten.
“Yep,” said Mom. “They’re staying for a whole week and a half! And they’re bringing another special guest with them.”
“Aunt Alice!!!” I shrieked.
Aunt Alice is Mom’s kid sister and my favorite aunt. She makes her own dresses and has three tattoos and knows how to belly dance. Mom calls her a “free spirit.” She lives in Texas, too.
“Well, no,” Mom replied. “Aunt Alice is going to a yoga-teacher-training retreat, so she can’t make it
.”
“Bummer,” said Jude. “But at least that means Little Nicky isn’t coming.”
Little Nicky is Aunt Alice’s son. He is four years old and he is—how can I put this nicely?—a hideous nightmare.
Here’s a list of Little Nicky’s favorite activities:
1. Talking about hammerhead sharks. Except he never just talks like a regular person. HE SHOUTS EVERYTHING HE SAYS.
2. Singing songs about hammerhead sharks.
3. Pretending to be a hammerhead shark.
4. Saying that everything, except for hammerhead sharks, is stupid.
5. Destroying people’s prized possessions.
Jude and I both love Aunt Alice, but we can’t stand Little Nicky.
“I’m so glad Little Nicky isn’t coming!” I exclaimed.
“Well, actually…,” said Mom, biting her lip.
“Mommy Dear,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Please, please don’t tell me Little Nicky’s coming.”
“Well, yes, he has to,” replied Mom, “because Granny and Gramps are babysitting him while Aunt Alice goes to the yoga retreat.”
“Why can’t his dad watch him?” I moaned.
“Uncle Eddy’s deployed,” said Mom. “He won’t be home for a few months.”
Uncle Eddy is a sailor in the navy. When he’s deployed, he sails away to far-off places on a humongous ship for months. Sometimes he can’t even tell us where he’s going, because it’s top secret.
“So Little Nicky has to come,” Mom explained.
“Noooooooooo!” I howled. Then I rolled off the couch and lay totally still on the carpet as if I’d died from the horror of it.
“Veronica Laverne.” My mom frowned. “He’s only four years old. Have some patience.”
I revived myself so I could reply, “How can I have patience with someone who eats all the candy out of my favorite Pez dispensers and squirts hand soap in my hairbrush and scribbles in my diary?”
“Remember when he took my copy of Attack of the Santa Clones and tore the front cover off? On purpose?” Jude exclaimed. “That was a very rare book! It was a collector’s item!”
Mom rubbed her forehead like she had a headache.
“And that’s nothing compared to what he did to Pearl!” Jude pointed out.
“Do you mean when he hid her Christmas stocking under the sink so we didn’t find it until after Easter? Or when he threw all her pacis in the toilet bowl? Or do you mean when he cut off a big chunk of her hair?”
Mom stood up.
“Your dad and I will only be gone about a week,” she said. “I think you can survive. And I expect you to be good hosts. He is your cousin, after all.”
Chapter 3
Granny, Gramps, and Little Nicky arrived on New Year’s Day. Mom and Dad let us stay up till twelve o’clock the night before to watch the ball drop on TV. So I was still sleeping in my bed, which is the bottom bunk, when they came. I was having the most wonderful dream.
I was wearing a red shiny leotard like an Olympic gymnast, and I was doing perfect back handsprings through a field of white daisies. The daisies were so bright and pretty that I popped one in my mouth. It melted instantly into whipped cream! Then as I was stuffing the flowers in my mouth as fast as I could, an adorable bulldog ran up and wagged her tail. She said, “My name is Pancake and I am your very own dog.” And then a whole bunch of baby bulldogs popped out of her ears, and they said, “We’re your dogs, too! Pet us! Pet us!” I was scratching their bellies and feeding them daisies, and then, all of a sudden, the puppies shouted in a terrible voice, “DO YOU HAVE ANY TUNA FISH?”
But it wasn’t the puppies shouting. It was Little Nicky. He was standing right next to my bed.
This is what Little Nicky looks like:
1. Very short. He’s as tall as Pearl, even though he’s two years older than her.
2. Dark blond hair that is shaved on the sides and spiky in a strip up top. This hairstyle is called a Mohawk. Little Nicky thinks it makes his hair look like a shark fin.
3. Ears that stick out.
4. A big mouth, which is always open because he is always talking.
“I’M STARVING AND GRANNY WANTS ME TO EAT CEREAL. BUT I TOLD HER CEREAL IS STUPID. HAMMERHEAD SHARKS NEVER EAT CEREAL. THEY EAT TUNA FISH.”
I heard Jude groan loudly in the top bunk.
I looked at the clock on my desk. It was only 8:31 a.m.
“Little Nicky,” I croaked. “When did you get here?”
“WE GOT ON THE PLANE SO EARLY THAT IT WAS STILL DARK OUTSIDE,” he shouted. “IT WENT REALLY FAST BUT NOT AS FAST AS A HAMMERHEAD SHARK. WHY IS IT SO COLD IN THIS PLACE? I HATE COLD STUFF.”
I put my pillow over my head. I had just woken up, and I already had a headache.
* * *
That night, after dinner, it was time for Mom and Dad to leave for California. When they tried to zip up their suitcase, they found Pearl curled up inside it. She was sucking away on Chooch, her favorite pacifier.
She popped Chooch out of her mouth and said, “I’m wittle! Take me!”
“Oh, Pearl, my girl,” said Dad, lifting her up, “we’ll be home in a week. And you’ll have so much fun with Gramps and Granny.”
He did not say anything about Little Nicky. He’s no dummy.
Mom kissed Pearl on the top of her head. “And you’ll have Jude and Ronny.”
“You mean Veronica,” I corrected her.
“You’ll have Jude and Veronica by your side,” said Mom. “And Ricardo!”
Ricardo is a stuffed rat. He is also the love of Pearl’s life. He has dirty black fur, no whiskers, and a tail that’s stuck on with silver duct tape.
Pearl is always worried that someone is going to steal Ricardo. This is really funny because Ricardo’s so old and broken-down, the only person who might take him is the garbageman.
Mom pulled Ricardo out of the suitcase, where Pearl had stuffed him.
“Yikes! We almost took him with us,” said Mom, smiling. “Imagine how much you’d have missed him!”
Then she handed Ricardo to Pearl, said good-bye, and walked out the door with Dad.
Chapter 4
The next morning, I had to go back to school. Usually, I hate the end of winter break.
Homework? Blegh.
Spelling tests? Ewww.Math? Have mercy!
But this time, I was glad to be going back to school. Spending a whole day with Little Nicky is even worse than a double-sided sheet of double-digit subtraction problems. Plus I couldn’t wait to give out the holiday presents I got for my friends!
For Cora, I had a travel sewing kit that I got from a hotel. It had five colors of thread, a needle, and two buttons inside. It did not have any sequins, which is probably for the best. When Cora made costumes for the school play, she went bananas with sequins.
For both Noah and Cora’s twin sister, Camille, I had key chains. Noah’s had a little soccer ball attached to it, and Camille’s had a basketball. I got them as prizes from the dentist’s office. Usually you get to choose only one or two prizes, but I sweet-talked the dentist into letting me take four. Sweet-talking is one of my specialties.
For Minnie, I had a pretty pink plastic headband with a black bow on it. Nana gave it to me for Christmas before she left for Italy. I guess Nana forgot that I hate headbands. They make me feel like my head’s getting pinched by a gigantic crab. But I knew Minnie would love it.
For Ezra, I had a very special present: an adorable vest for Ziggy! I made it with my own two hands and my new hot-glue gun. I didn’t know Ziggy’s size, so I used Velcro to make the vest adjustable. I cut it out of green felt, and then I glued a red Z on the back. I couldn’t wait for Ziggy to try it on!
I gave out almost all the presents at recess. I felt like Santa Claus!
The only person I couldn’t find was Ezra. So I looked for Jude, because Ezra is almost always with him.
I spotted Jude sitting next to the Lost and Found bin,
with a pad of paper and a pen on his lap.
“Did you lose something?” I asked him.
“Me? Don’t be preposterous!” he snorted. His glasses had slid down his nose, so he pushed them back up with his finger. “I’m on recess mediator duty, but no one needs me. So I thought I’d make a list of the items in the Lost and Found and tape it on the outside.”
“But people can just look inside the bin,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but this is much more organized,” he explained.
I don’t know why I bothered to argue with him. When Jude starts making a list, there is no stopping him. Over the winter break, he made a list of all the lists he wanted to write. I am not even kidding. I found it on his desk:
So I didn’t try to stop Jude from making a dumb Lost and Found list that nobody needed.
Instead, I asked him, “Have you seen Ezra?”
Jude frowned. “Something’s wrong with Ezra. He’s in his mom’s office.”
“There’s nothing weird about that,” I replied. Ezra’s mom is the principal of our school, and he goes to her office all the time—to ask her a question or because he forgot something, stuff like that.
“I know,” said Jude, “but he’s acting really weird. He hardly said a word to me all morning.”
“Have no fear!” I exclaimed. “I will get to the bottom of this!”
Before Jude could reply, I ran straight to the red double doors that lead to the school—and to the principal’s office.
Chapter 5
You have to walk into the main office to get to Principal Powell’s office. When I got there, her door was closed, which means “Do Not Disturb.” I decided to hang around and try to hear what Ezra and his mom were talking about.
The ladies who work in the main office, especially the principal’s secretary, do not like kids hanging around there. You have to seem like you are there for a very good reason or they tell you to scram.
The Fix-It Friends--Wish You Were Here Page 1
