by Lin Oliver
“Unless, of course, they have a fan in there,” Billy retorted. “Which I will never know unless I go.”
“Very good thinking, Bill,” Bennett said with a nod of approval.
Billy’s mom was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. It was the look she always gave him when she suspected he had done something wrong. Billy knew he had to make his big move now, or the answer was going to be no.
“Mom,” he said. “I want history to come alive for me. I want to be one with the Chumash. I want to feel their spirit in me. You know, taste the acorns. Smell the buffalo.”
“Feel the breeze,” his mother added, still suspicious.
“Yes! Exactly! I’m so glad you understand, Mom.”
She glanced over at Bennett, who was smiling.
“I remember having the same enthusiasm for learning when I was a young man,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes. “The first time I ever held a dental drill in my hand, it was as if every dentist who ever lived was speaking to me. I could feel their spirit in me through the vibration of the drill.”
Billy didn’t say a word. If there was one thing he knew, it was when to keep quiet in front of your parents. He could feel a decision coming, almost taste the thrill of victory. If only his mother’s eyebrow would go back down to its normal position.
“I’ll drive him,” Bennett said to Billy’s mom. “And I’ll set my stopwatch to exactly seventeen minutes. Honestly, Charlotte, I don’t know how we can say no to such an enthusiasm for learning.”
“He’s right, Mom,” Billy threw in. “You don’t want to squelch my enthusiasm for learning. After all, you are an educator.”
Billy watched as his mother’s eyebrow slowly, slowly, slowly moved down on her face until it was back in its normal position. He knew what that meant.
“All right,” she said. “I’m going to make an exception this one time. As long as you understand, Billy, that what you did was wrong and there have to be consequences for that.”
“Consequences are my middle name,” Billy said, giving them each a fast hug. “Thanks, guys.”
He turned on his heel, bounded out of the kitchen and down the hall. He knew he had to beat it out of there fast, before his mother changed her mind. He reached his room and threw open the door. The Hoove was hanging upside down from the ceiling light fixture, swinging sadly back and forth.
“I did it!” Billy exclaimed. “We’re on for tomorrow!”
The Hoove let go of the light fixture and rocketed into the carpet, bouncing up again to throw his transparent arms around Billy, spinning him in circles. As Billy twirled around, he noticed Breeze standing in the hallway, staring at him like he had lost his mind. How was he going to explain this to her?
“Velcro,” he said to her.
“Okay,” she answered. “Now I know you’re officially crazy.”
“Velcro rhymes with elbow,” he said. “Loving you is like scraping my elbow, but trust me baby, I’m sticking to you like Velcro.”
Breeze’s eyes grew wide, and she forgot all about Billy’s little happy dance with the air.
“That’s actually brilliant,” she said, dashing to her room to grab her ever-present phone. “Wait until I tell the girls.”
She disappeared into her room, and Billy turned to the Hoove.
“You heard the lady,” he said. “I’m brilliant.”
“Let’s just hope you can be half that brilliant with Anacapa tomorrow,” the Hoove said. “I have a lot riding on you.”
Billy was bursting with confidence. On the heels of sweet-talking both his parents and Breeze, he was feeling like a man with a golden tongue. Nothing could go wrong. He would explain everything to Anacapa with charm and ease.
Which only goes to show how much he knew.
The next morning, Billy awoke to a buzz of activity. The Hoove was in the closet, spinning around like a pinwheel in the wind, and muttering to himself.
“What are you doing in there, Hoove?” Billy yawned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “It sounds like the closet door is going to come right off its hinges.”
“While you were counting sheep, I’ve been in here developing my plan for how I’m going to wrangle that pass from the Higher-Ups,” the Hoove answered. “I can hold Anacapa off for a day, but sooner or later, I am going to need to visit that museum. Sooner is what I’m sure we’d both prefer. At least I know I would.”
The Hoove zoomed out of the closet through the keyhole and over to Billy. “Consequently, I have made a list that includes every responsible activity a ghost, namely me, could participate in. Check this out, Billy Boy. It’s a little bit of perfection, if I say so myself.”
The Hoove handed Billy a long piece of bathroom tissue filled with his scratchy handwriting.
“It looks like a chicken stepped in some ink and walked across this,” Billy said. “Is this supposed to be handwriting?”
“You’re not worthy to hold my list.” The Hoove grabbed the toilet paper back from Billy, almost tearing it in half. “I will read it to you myself.”
“Be careful, you’re about to lose one of the squares.”
“Instead of employing your bad sense of humor, employ your ears,” the Hoove snapped. Then he began to read. “One. I will locate all elderly ladies within my boundary and help them carry their grocery bags filled with prune juice and cat food. Two. I will return every lost dog to its rightful owner, even if it has fleas. Three. I will make banana cupcakes for Amber Brownstone’s bake sale. With yellow sprinkles on top.”
“How do you know she’s having a bake sale?” Billy asked.
“We ghosts know everything. We are all-seeing and all-knowing.”
“If you know so much, how come you don’t know how to convince the Higher-Ups to spring you just this once?”
“Hence, the list, Mr. Broccoli. When I get finished with my perfect day, no one in this world or the other one will be able to say no to Hoover Porterhouse the Third. I will have proved myself responsible beyond a shadow of a doubt. When you see Anacapa, tell her to meet me tomorrow at the mall. Outside Theatre Three. That’s within my boundaries. And there I will surprise her with the big news.”
“What news?”
“That I will be there tomorrow night at the performance. I will tell her that I wouldn’t miss the Native American celebration for all the cotton candy at a carnival.”
“But, Hoove, what if they don’t offer you the pass by then? You’re promising something you may not be able to deliver.”
“You, my friend, are a negative thinker. I, on the other hand, am filled with positivity. So go, deliver the message. I got a flock of seniors to escort.”
The Hoove flew out the window without so much as a good-bye. As Billy sauntered into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he kept thinking about how confident the Hoove was that he would get to the museum to see Anacapa. He had never before shown such determination to complete a plan.
On the walk to school, Billy caught a glimpse of the Hoove at the corner of Moorepark and Fairview. He was hovering next to an older woman who was waiting for the red light to change. She had a big German shepherd on a leash, and the dog was sniffing the air in a very agitated fashion. He obviously sensed the Hoove’s presence, but the Hoove didn’t seem to notice that the dog was trying to locate him. He just waved at Billy cheerfully.
“This kindly grandmother type is on her way to the grocery store,” he called. “I’m going to see that she gets there and back safely.”
Dogs have very good hearing, and he must have detected the sound of the Hoove’s voice, because he started to bark like crazy. He tugged so hard on the leash that it almost pulled the woman off her feet. The Hoove reached out and caught her just before she fell.
“See!” he shouted to Billy. “My first good deed already accomplished.”
Billy just shook his head and walked on. He had a big day at school and he couldn’t be bothered with the Hoove’s antics. He not only had to perfect his Chumash dance, bu
t he also had to finish his basket and put together his costume. Ruby Baker had told him that Chumash men wore very little, but he had told her in no uncertain terms that he was not about to appear shirtless in front of everyone at the museum. They decided that they’d both wear beige, skin-colored shirts and pants, and Ruby was bringing in two eagle feathers that they could use for hair decoration.
The day flew by. Occasionally, Billy thought about the Hoove and wondered how his day of good deeds was going, but mostly, he kept his head down and concentrated on all he had to do. He was pleased when, by the last rehearsal of the day, his dancing had improved so much that he only stepped on Ruby’s toes three times.
After school, Bennett was waiting in his minivan in front of the school as Billy ran down the steps. He climbed into the front seat, snapped in his safety belt, and turned to Bennett.
“Would you rather have me drive?” he said with a chuckle. “I now have experience.”
Bennett threw back his head and laughed.
“One thing I can say about you, Bill, is that you have your mother’s sense of humor.”
“And the one thing I can say about you, Bennett, is that you get me,” Billy said. “Thanks for that.”
The museum was almost a half an hour drive from Moorepark Middle School. They had to go on two different freeways, and the traffic was bumper to bumper. Billy kept eyeing the clock on the dashboard as it approached four o’clock.
“How much longer before we’re there?” he asked nervously. The Hoove had explained that Anacapa was expecting him at exactly four o’clock.
“Never can tell with Los Angeles traffic,” Bennett said. “But what’s the rush? Since we’re having such a bonding experience, why don’t we play a game to pass the time? I’ve got a fun one. First person who sees a license plate that starts with an X says ‘X-ray.’ Wait, make that ‘dental X-ray.’”
Bennett threw back his head and laughed again. Not a minute had gone by before he hollered, “Dental X-ray!”
“Where?” Billy asked. “I don’t see an X license plate.”
“There wasn’t one.” Bennett flashed an oddly mischievous smile. “‘Dental X-ray’ is just fun to say. I love those words.”
It was one minute after four when they pulled up in front of the Natural History Museum, an impressive stone building covered by a carved dome. Billy was as nervous as a cat as Bennett surveyed the parking lot for a good space.
“How about if you just drop me off in front,” he suggested. “We can meet in the diorama hall.”
“What’s the rush?” Bennett asked.
“I want to use every one of my seventeen minutes to the fullest,” Billy said. “I just can’t wait to absorb all that Chumash-ness.”
Bennett reached out and tousled Billy’s hair.
“Gotta love your enthusiasm,” he said. “I should be there in five or ten minutes. Don’t get lost. It’s a big place inside.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Billy said, climbing out of the car. “I’ll find it. I have the sense of direction of a bald eagle hunting for salmon.”
Billy raced up the front steps and into the main hall. A gray-haired, uniformed guard was standing just inside the door.
“I know what you’re looking for,” he said in a loud voice. “The Hall of Dinosaurs. That’s what youngsters your age like. Yup, if there’s one thing I know, it’s you youngsters.”
“Actually, sir, I need to find the dioramas,” Billy said.
“What’s that?” the guard asked, turning up his hearing aid. “You have diarrhea? Then you’ll need to find the bathrooms down the hall and on your left.”
“Diarrhea, diarrhea!” Billy heard a little voice say.
He turned around to see a kid of about five in floppy shorts and mismatched shoes standing at the information booth, holding his mother’s hand.
“Shhh, Harry,” his mother said. “That’s not an appropriate word for a museum.”
“But that big boy has diarrhea,” Harry giggled. “That guard said it. And he knows the museum rules.”
“Actually,” Billy said, raising his voice so the guard could hear him. “What I am looking for is the hall with the dioramas of the Chumash tribe.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say that in the first place,” the guard said. “Let me look up where it is. I’m a new volunteer here.”
While the guard rummaged through his worn map of the museum, Billy tapped his foot nervously. He was on a seventeen-minute clock, and he could feel the minutes ticking down. He was so relieved when Harry’s mother touched him on the shoulder.
“Why don’t you just follow us,” she said. “What you’re looking for is the California History Hall, which is down that hall past the Gem and Mineral Hall. I know where it is because those dioramas are Harry’s favorite thing in the whole museum.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, pulling his finger out of his nose. “I like the hairy buffalo best. He’s standing right in front of the teepee, which is almost as fun to say as diarrhea.”
“Harry, honey, that’s not a teepee,” his mom explained. “The Chumash lived in round, thatched homes called aps.”
“Hey, I’d love to hang out with you guys and discuss Chumash architecture,” Billy said, “but I’m in a big hurry. So thanks a lot for the directions.”
He took off running, dashing past the Lost Lizards of Los Angeles exhibition, the Spider Pavilion, and the Gem and Mineral Hall. Breathless, he entered a large, darkened hall that was bordered on all sides by glass windows, behind which were lifelike scenes from typical early California life. Billy checked the big clock on the wall. He had used up five of his seventeen minutes and still hadn’t made contact with Anacapa.
Quickly, his eyes scanned the dioramas. Each one represented a different era of California history. There was one showing some of the eleven families from Mexico that established the original pueblo of Los Angeles. There was another one that celebrated the discovery of oil in the area by showing a model of an oil-drilling well. Ordinarily Billy might have been interested in stopping to watch the well pump, but he didn’t have time to dawdle. He scanned the room quickly until his eyes fell on the diorama on the far wall. It showed the early California landscape with members of its earliest tribal inhabitants.
As he got closer, Billy was able to make out the figures inside the diorama. They were gathered around one of the round, thatched huts. Two men were kneeling by a log, digging out a canoe. A figure of a woman was crouched nearby. She was holding a baby in a willow carrier on her back while mashing acorns with a rounded stone. Off to one side, a hairy buffalo was grazing on the long, dry grasses, and next to him stood a beautiful Chumash girl wearing a cape made of animal skins. It was Anacapa.
Billy raced to the glass and pressed his face up close, waving to try to get her attention. But she was as still as a statue. In fact, she was a statue, as were all the other Chumash people in the scene.
“Anacapa,” he said, rapping on the glass with his knuckles. “It’s me. Billy Broccoli. The Hoove’s friend. Remember me? We met yesterday on the playground. Well, we didn’t actually meet. But I bet you remember me….I’m the bad dancer with two left feet.”
The statue of Anacapa remained motionless.
“Hey,” Billy said. “Are you listening? Can you hear me? If you can, give me some sign.”
“I can hear you just fine,” a little voice said.
It wasn’t the kind of voice Billy assumed an Indian princess would have, but who was he to know what princesses should sound like. The only princess he knew was Breeze, and as far as he was concerned, she was only a princess in her own mind.
“Listen, Anacapa,” he continued. “The Hoove sent me with a really important message for you.”
“Who’s the Hoove?” the little voice asked. “That’s a funny name. Does he have diarrhea, too?”
Billy knew that voice, and for sure, it was no princess. He whirled around to see Harry standing behind him, staring at him like he was wacko.
&n
bsp; “You’re a cuckoo bird,” Harry said. “Don’t you know those diorama people aren’t real?”
“Listen up, Harry. I’m really busy here doing something very important that you could not possibly understand,” Billy whispered, kneeling down to talk directly to the overly curious little guy.
“Says you,” Harry snapped back. “I understand a lot of things, especially science stuff. Like I bet you don’t know that the stegosaurus had a brain the size of a walnut.”
“That’s good to know, Harry. Really it is. Now go find a stegosaurus and have a conversation with it. The Dinosaur Hall isn’t far away.”
“But I want to stay and watch you talk to the statues again.”
Harry’s mom walked up to them and smiled.
“Oh, Harry. How nice that you’ve made a new friend,” she said.
“Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude,” Billy said urgently. “I’m sure Harry is a total blast to be with and everything, but I’m here on a school project and I’ve got to concentrate, so if you wouldn’t mind …”
“Of course,” she said. “Come on, Harry. Let’s go visit the Spider Pavilion.”
“No, Mommy. Spiders have venom and I don’t like venom. I’m staying here.”
“You’re afraid of spiders?” Billy said with fake shock. “Spiders aren’t scary. They can’t hurt a tough kid like you. They are a garden’s best friend.”
“Says you,” Harry said. “Did you know that a spider’s venom turns the insides of their prey into liquid? I don’t want to get turned into a liquid and be all gooey.”
Billy looked at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes had elapsed, and Bennett would be there any second. He did not have time for long conversations with a budding science genius.
“I’m begging you,” he said to Harry’s mom. “My whole grade depends on this.”
She nodded and took Harry’s hand.
“Come on, sweetie,” she said. “Let’s go see the butterflies. Then we’ll get some hot chocolate from the machine.”
“Hot chocolate! Goody! See you later, Mr. Cuckoo Bird,” Harry said with a wave. As they turned to go, Billy heard him saying, “Mommy, did you know that butterflies use their feet to taste?”
