“Zip, that’s not the kind of change we had in mind.”
Ashley took a deep breath. “Hank,” she said. “We’ve decided that we’re going over to Team Katherine.”
“Katherine is Emily’s pet,” I said. “Katherine is competing against Cheerio. So you can’t be on her team, because that would mean you’d be on two teams at once.”
“We’re not on two teams, Zip,” Frankie said.
“Good, because you scared me there for a minute.”
“We’re only going to be on one team,” Ashley said.
“Right. Team Cheerio. Just like we planned.”
“Wrong,” Frankie said. “Team Katherine. Just like we didn’t plan.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me that you’re resigning from Team Cheerio?”
“See, it’s like this,” Ashley said, pushing her purple rhinestone glasses up on her nose. “Emily and Robert came by a little while ago. And they told us about their plans for Katherine. Did you know they’re teaching to her walk backward while balancing a grape on her snout?”
“She’ll never do that,” I said. “She’s a reptile. All they can do is stand in one place and hiss.”
“Emily says she’s learning, Zip. And when she does, she’s going to blow all the other contestants out of the water. She’ll win, and if we’re on her team, we’ll get our picture in the paper.”
“Frankie. Listen to me. You’ll get your picture in the paper when Cheerio wins!”
“Face it, Zip. Cheerio is never going to pay attention long enough to learn a trick, let alone two or three.”
“And Emily and Robert have a whole training plan for Katherine,” Ashley added. “They follow through, Hank. They already have most of the written report done. They always meet their responsibility.”
“So that’s what this is about?” I said. I could hear myself kind of yelling. “You’re still mad at me about missing the meeting last night?”
“It’s not just last night, Zip. Working with you means we’d have to do most of the work ourselves. And that’s just not fun.”
I took a deep breath to calm myself down.
“So let me get this straight,” I said, after I had sucked in a whole ton of the morning air. “You’re really and truly, one hundred percent, saying that you’re quitting Team Cheerio?”
“That’s pretty much it,” Frankie said. “No hard feelings, buddy?”
“No,” I said, not knowing what else to say. “Cheerio and I will do this by ourselves. We got it all locked up.”
“Good luck,” Ashley said. “We’ll be friendly competitors, okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
But as we set out down 78th Street for school, my brain was saying something entirely different.
CHAPTER 12
TEN THINGS MY BRAIN WAS SAYING AS I WALKED DOWN 78TH STREET
1. I can’t believe they quit.
2. I can’t believe they quit.
3. I can’t believe they quit.
4. They quit. I can’t believe it.
5. They actually quit. I can’t believe it.
6. Can you believe it? They quit.
7. Wait a minute. They actually quit.
8. Holy mackerel, they quit!
9. Have I told you that they really did quit?
10. I can’t believe they quit.
CHAPTER 13
As if the day hadn’t started badly enough, Ms. Adolf gave us a pop quiz on fractions. There were ten problems and I got one correct. It was one half plus one half, which I know equals a whole. The fact that I knew that made me so excited I can’t even explain it to you. Ms. Adolf didn’t share my excitement, though. She wrote a big red F on the top of my quiz, which, by the way, did not stand for Fantastic or Fabulous or Far Out.
There it was. Another F.
You know, my father says I’m lazy. Ms. Adolf says that I need to focus. Even my mom, who really tries to understand my learning differences, says I would do a lot better if I just applied myself to my schoolwork. What do they think? That I want to fail? That I’m doing this on purpose? I lie in bed at night, and I think to myself, Are you trying hard, Hank? And I promise you, I am.
Sometimes I think tomorrow, I’m going to try harder. And then tomorrow comes and my brain still can’t figure out fractions. Man, it’s frustrating.
So you can imagine how glad I was when the bell rang for lunch and I could wipe all thoughts of math and fractions and Fs out of my head. I grabbed my brown bag, because it wasn’t macaroni day, and headed for the lunchroom. By the time I got a milk and a dessert, Frankie and Ashley were already sitting at our usual table. What wasn’t usual was that Robert and Emily were there, too. All four of them were in a deep discussion.
“Hey, guys,” I said, sliding onto the bench next to Ashley. “This looks serious.”
“We’re having an important meeting, Hank,” Emily said.
“About what?” I said with a laugh. “Iguana toenail clippings?”
“Actually, yes,” Robert said. “Iguana grooming is the subject.”
“And no offense, dude, but it’s private,” Frankie said.
“Oh,” I said. “Okay. Don’t mind me, I’ll just sit here quietly.”
I reached into my brown bag and took out the plastic baggy that contained my sandwich. Soylami again! I held my nose and was about to take a bite, when suddenly I realized the four of them were staring at me in silence.
“What?” I said. “I did not make this sandwich. Trust me.”
“Hank,” Ashley began, shifting her eyes away from me. “This is a meeting of Team Katherine. And it really is private.”
“Meaning just us,” Frankie said.
“Meaning beat it, big brother,” Emily said.
“Why can’t I just sit here and eat my lunch? It’s not like I’m going to steal your lizard secrets or anything.”
“You never know,” Emily said. “Let me remind you that you are the competition.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, putting my sandwich back in its baggy. “I get it. Team Cheerio is leaving.”
That reminded me that maybe I had better find a Team Cheerio. One guy and one dachshund does not make a team.
Luke Whitman was sitting at a table by himself. That happens a lot to him. When you pick your nose during lunch, it cuts down on the number of people who can stomach sharing a table with you. Lucky for me, Luke’s digging finger was on a break, so I slid onto the bench across from him.
“Luke! Just the guy I was looking for,” I began. “How would you like to be a proud member of Team Cheerio and help me train the greatest dachshund in the city of New York.”
“Sorry, Hank. I have another plan.”
“What plan could be better than being part of a surefire winning team?”
“Can you keep a secret?” Luke whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m training a garden slug to be the school mascot. His name is Fritz, and he lives in the flower box outside our living room window. I feed him already-been-chewed vegetables.”
“Luke. Give me a break. No one is ever going to choose a slug as the school mascot. Slugs are slimy and disgusting.”
“Not Fritz. He is one good-looking slug. He oozes in all the right places.”
With that, Luke’s nose-picking finger shot into his nose. I thought it was a perfect time to leave.
Heather Payne was sitting at the next table, with two of her smart-girl friends. Even though Heather is the smartest and tallest person in the fifth grade, she and I have become friends since we were in the school play together. She would make a great member of Team Cheerio.
“Hi, Heather,” I said. “Mind if I join you guys?”
“Of course not, Hank.” She scooted over to make room for me next to her. “We were just talking about the best way to prepare note cards for the history research paper. I was suggesting pink cards for facts and blue cards for opinions.�
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“And white cards for neither,” I said, chuckling at my own joke. I noticed that nobody else was. “White . . . as in blank cards. Get it?”
They still weren’t laughing. In fact, they weren’t even smiling. Not a tooth was showing. The old Zipzer attitude sure wasn’t in gear that day. And I can’t tell you how hard I was looking for the ignition switch.
“So, Heather,” I said, figuring that the best way with this crowd was to get right down to business. “I’m looking for a select few to join me on Team Cheerio.”
“Gee, Hank, that’s a really nice invitation,” Heather responded. “But I don’t have time because I’ve just started peer-tutoring Jeremy Ellington. Poor kid, he’s having trouble with word problems.”
“I can relate.” I nodded. “But if anyone can help him, you can, Heather. You’re a great tutor. Just don’t tell him that there are fractions in his future, or he’ll vomit on the spot.”
The girls went back to discussing note card colors, and I got out of there fast. First of all, if I could actually take notes, I wouldn’t care what color card they would be on. And second of all, I had work to do. The contest was Friday, exactly one week away, and so far, Team Cheerio consisted of just me.
I got up and looked around the lunchroom to see if there was anyone else I could ask to join. My two best friends were deep in their team meeting without me. Luke was training a slug that looked like something he found in his nose. And me, where was I?
I’m on my way out of this cafeteria, that’s where I am.
I actually ran out of the lunchroom and onto the playground. My head hurt. Where was I going to find a partner? What was I going to do?
“Hi, Hank,” a little voice said. It was Mason Harris Jerome Dunn, my kindergarten buddy. “What’cha thinking about?”
I stared at Mason for a long time.
“Mason, my friend,” I said, throwing my arm around his shoulder. “You’re not going to believe this. I was just thinking about you!”
CHAPTER 14
We were over in the kindergarten area of the playground, where there’s a sandbox and a jungle gym and a red plastic slide. Mason jumped into the sand, turned around so I couldn’t see his face, and then suddenly spun around.
“Gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” he said, lunging across the sand and putting his face right up next to mine.
“What are you doing, Mason?”
“I’m a T. rex,” he said. “I’m growling. Gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
He put his hands in front of his chest so they looked like little T. rex claws and pounced on me. I lost my balance and fell over into the sand. He pounced on me again, and growled right into my ear. My eardrum started to bang itself silly, like it was going to pop out of my ear and march in a parade.
“Ease up, little guy,” I said.
“I’m not a little guy. I’m a T. rex,” Mason reminded me.
“Right, T. rex. Back off, will you?”
“T. rexes don’t back off. They attack. And they never give up. Ggggrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Cool, Mason. That’s the attitude I’m looking for. The never give up part, that is. Not the growling part.”
“T. rex is hungry,” Mason said. Just then, another kindergarten girl with bright red ribbons in her pigtails walked by. Mason jumped out at her, with his little claw hands pointed in her direction, and let loose another monster growl. She screamed.
“Stop doing that,” she shouted as she ran off. “I’m telling Mrs. McMurray on you!”
Mason laughed, pretty satisfied with his little self.
“Come with me, buddy,” I said, leading him by the hand over to an empty area of the sandbox.
I picked up one of the blue plastic shovels and used it to draw a square in the sand.
“Stand in there,” I said to him.
“Why?” Mason wanted to know.
“Because it’s T. rex Land,” I said.
“Hank, it’s just a stupid square.”
“That’s if you have no imagination. But my imagination says that whenever you stand in that square, you will turn into a T. rex and you can roar from now until the next Ice Age.”
“Really?” Mason said. I could see his little eyes light up.
“Yeah, and when you’re with your friends, you don’t have to scare them. You can save all your scary stuff for Dinosaur Land.”
That made Mason really happy. He stood in that square and let out five or six powerful roars.
“Okay, I’m done for now,” he said. “Let’s play something else.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Mason. I have a great game. It’s called Let’s Teach Cheerio a Trick.”
“How can you teach a piece of cereal a trick?” he asked. “Oh, I know. You mean like floating on its back in milk.”
“Wrong Cheerio, Mase. I’m talking about my dog. Remember him?”
“Oh yeah. The little wiener dog. He’s short and funny.”
“Just like you.”
“I’m not short. I’m five.”
“Good point,” I said. “So are you in?”
“Okay, I’ll play,” Mason agreed. “Can we start now?”
“You have to go back to class now. We can start later.”
“I don’t want to go back to class,” Mason sulked, “because it’s alphabet time and I hate the alphabet. I can’t keep all those letters in order in my brain.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” I said. “But here’s the deal. We can’t get going until after school. Then we’ll take Cheerio to the park and start teaching him.”
“Can my mom come? Because it’s Tuesday and that’s our park day.”
“Sure, she can come. See how perfect this is working out, Mase? Finally, Team Cheerio is moving full steam ahead.”
I know what you’re thinking. Recruiting one five-year-old who thinks he’s a T. rex is not exactly full steam ahead. But I was determined to make the best of this. Like my mom always says, if life gives you a lemon, make lemonade. Just be sure to leave out the white sugar because it’s very bad for your dental health.
Just at the moment when I was finally starting to feel better about Team Cheerio and my hopes for the mascot contest, who walked by but Nick the Tick. I could hear his big lumbering feet pounding the playground as he stomped up to us. He was the real T. rex.
“You’re pathetic, Zipperbutt,” he said. “Hanging out with a kindergartner.”
“I’m on Team Cheerio,” Mason said to him, putting his hands on his hips.
McKelty laughed, spitting out a few chocolate crumbs that were left over in his teeth from lunch.
“What is he?” McKelty said to me. “The pet you’re entering?”
“Very classy, McKelty,” I said. “Picking on little kids takes a lot of guts. Why don’t you wander off and steal somebody’s lunch.”
“Hey, I’m glad I thought of that,” the big oaf said. “I’m still really hungry.”
With that, he left to go rummage through the trash can and find someone’s leftover dessert.
“I don’t like him,” Mason said.
“Don’t worry about it, buddy. We’re going to show him. Just wait until Team Cheerio struts its stuff. Guys like him are going to wish they were us.”
Boy, oh boy. I wished I believed that.
CHAPTER 15
Holy mackerel! By the time we got to Riverside Park, there was hardly any room left on the grass area to train Cheerio on.
In one section, over by the chain-link fence that separates the basketball courts from the rest of the park, Nick McKelty was working with his annoying little Chihuahua, Fang. He was actually trying to teach his dog how to ride his bicycle. Fang’s legs were about as long as a human thumb, and if you know anything about thumbs, you know that they can’t reach the pedals on a two-wheeler. I guess old McKelty hadn’t figured that out yet.
In another section, Ryan Shimozato and his crew were working with his dog, a Great Dane who looked like a small horse. Corre
ction, make that a big horse. They were trying to teach him to roll over, but he seemed to prefer sniffing under the park benches for old chewing gum. It took all four guys on Ryan’s team pulling on his leash to get that horse-dog away from the bench slats.
And taking up all the concrete space in the middle of the park area was none other than my little sister Emily and her posse, which consisted of Robert, and my two supposed-to-be best friends, Frankie and Ashley. Or as I like to call them, traitors.
They had Katherine on a homemade leash, which I very soon recognized as the belt I wore to my Aunt Maxine’s birthday party. They were gathered around Katherine, trying to coax her to walk backward while balancing a grape on her snout. I don’t mean to sound bitter, but there it was. The grape actually was on the tip of her snout.
How did they teach her to do that? Katherine’s a reptile, for goodness sake. With a brain the size of two mashed peas.
Mason, his mom, and I walked past the concrete area to look for a place suitable for Cheerio’s lesson. I was planning to ignore Team Katherine so I could look like I didn’t care for one minute that the sack of scales was doing the most amazing trick ever. But when Cheerio saw Emily, he bolted from my hands, charged up, and started licking her knees, which is the only thing he could reach. Mason ran after Cheerio, but stopped suddenly when he came face-to-face with a hissing Katherine.
“You are ugly,” he said, right to Katherine’s face. Then he growled his biggest T. rex roar right at her.
Katherine, who didn’t know that kindergarteners like to pretend to be dinosaurs, wasn’t phased by his growling. She opened her iguana mouth, showed him every one of her 188 teeth, and hissed up a storm. Mason screamed, flew into a backward somersault, raced for his mom, and grabbed her hand.
“Don’t be scared, Mase,” I told him. “Katherine’s all hiss and no bite.”
“I’m not scared,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure my mom was still here.”
“Hank,” Emily said. “Team Katherine is really working hard here. So could you just stay over there in your own work area?”
“No problem,” I said, “because Team Cheerio isn’t interested in showing you what’s in our bag of tricks.”
A Tale of Two Tails Page 5
