by Nancy Krulik
“Good idea, Logan,” Java said. He picked up the phone and pushed the button. “Spike, do you know any robot songs?” he asked.
Spike began to sing:
I am a robot, metal and strong.
I never sleep. I think all day long.
Robots are powerful. Robots are smart.
We are beautiful metal works of art.
“That’s what friends are for,” Java said with a smile. Then he joined in. “I am a robot, metal and strong. I never sleep. I think all day long …”
I looked at my cousin and his new friend and shook my head. Java had done some strange things since Mom first built him. But making friends with a phone might just have been the strangest thing yet.
6.
A Group of Gadgets
“Do you kids want a snack?” Mom asked as my theater friends and I walked into the house after rehearsal a few days later. “I can make tuna and blueberry sandwiches if you’d like. Great brain food. It will help you memorize your lines.”
My new friends looked grossed out.
“How about some cookies?” I suggested to Mom.
“Okay,” she said. “There are oatmeal raisin cookies in the cupboard. Go ahead into the kitchen. Java is already in there—with his new friends.”
His new what?
I had no idea Java had made any friends other than Spike. I’d been too busy with the show to notice that he’d been hanging out with anybody new lately.
I wondered what sort of kids would want to hang out with Java.
“Come on,” I said to my castmates as I walked into the kitchen. “We have juice boxes and—”
I stopped mid-sentence and gaped in surprise. There was Java, sitting on the floor, surrounded by kitchen appliances.
“Look, Logan!” he called to me. “I found friends I have stuff in common with. We all have motors and gears!”
My theater friends started laughing.
“What’s up with your cousin?” Dylan, the kid who was playing Hansel, asked me.
“Java, you’re so funny,” Nadine giggled. “What are you doing down there?”
“I am playing with my friends.” Java smiled. He looked really happy.
Nadine laughed harder. “You’re hilarious,” she told him. “Always kidding around.”
I had a feeling Java wasn’t kidding at all. Just a few nights ago he’d been singing along with my mother’s phone.
But I didn’t say that.
I figured it was better to let my friends think this was all one big Java joke.
Just then, I noticed the dishwasher was overflowing. “You put too much soap in there,” I told my cousin.
But Java didn’t care. He just kept grinning his goofy grin.
“I love blowing bubbles, too, Dishy-Washy,” Java told the dishwasher. “Watch!”
Java took a deep breath and blew into the soap bubbles.
He blew.
And blew.
And blew.
The bubble kept growing.
And growing.
And growing.
It grew until it was practically as big as the whole kitchen! And then—
Soap suds splattered all over my new theater friends and me.
Java didn’t seem to notice that we were covered in soap. He reached over and clicked a button on the electric mixer.
The mixing bowl started spinning around and around.
So Java started spinning around and around, too.
“This is fun, Mixy!” Java sang out as he spun faster and faster.
“He’s gonna get really dizzy doing that,” Leah said.
I was pretty sure Leah meant that Java would get dizzy, not Mixy. Not that it mattered. Mixers don’t get dizzy. And neither do droids.
Java spun his way over to the refrigerator. His elbow bashed into the water dispenser on the door. Water shot out onto the floor. It looked like the refrigerator was peeing.
“Good idea, Chilly!” Java exclaimed.
Uh oh.
I didn’t think robots could pee. But why take a chance?
“Mom!” I shouted. “You gotta stop him. NOW!”
7.
I See, You Saw
“Hello, Logan,” Java greeted me as I walked backstage before rehearsal the following day.
“Hi, Java,” I said. “Are you having fun building the scenery?”
“I am helping to build the witch’s house,” Java told me.
“That’s good,” I said. “Just try not to cause any trouble, okay?”
“Trouble is a bad thing, Logan. Why would I want to cause that?”
I didn’t answer him. Java never meant to cause trouble. But that didn’t mean he didn’t cause any.
In fact, he caused trouble all the time.
As Java went back to work, the Silverspoons hurried over to me. It wasn’t easy for them to hurry, since they were wearing so many branches, leaves, and apples on their heads.
“What’s your crazy cousin doing here?” Jerry asked me.
“Shouldn’t he be home playing with the hair dryer or something?” Sherry sniped nastily.
I frowned. One of my new friends must have told the twins about Java’s playdate in the kitchen. By now, everyone in the whole cast probably knew about it.
“My mom thought it would be good for Java to be part of the play,” I told them. “He’s building sets and painting scenery.”
I looked nervously over at my cousin. Please, please, please don’t do anything weird, I thought to myself.
Java was busy screwing two parts of the house frame together. Phew. That wasn’t weird at all. Except …
Uh oh.
Java wasn’t using a screwdriver. He was using his fingernail to turn the screw. His whole hand was spinning around and around.
Luckily, the twins didn’t seem to have noticed. I guess all the leaves and apples in front of their faces made it hard for them to see.
But it wasn’t hard for them to hear. Java was whistling really loud.
“Hey, Java?” Jerry called over to him.
Java smiled and stopped working. “Hello, Jerry,” he said. “Hello, Sherry.”
“Why were you whistling?” Sherry asked him.
“Because I am working,” Java told her. “You are supposed to whistle while you work. I saw it in a movie that my friend, Telly TV, showed me.”
“Your friend, the TV?” Jerry laughed.
“Telly?” Sherry giggled. “Your TV has a name?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Java asked her.
He sounded really curious. Like he was comparing what Sherry had just said to the information in his hard drive.
Which, of course, was exactly what he was doing.
I really wished the twins would stop talking to Java. And that he would stop answering them.
“Java, shouldn’t you go back to work?” I suggested.
“Oh, yes. I need to cut another piece of wood.”
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Java began sawing. And he stopped whistling. Which was a good thing.
Or maybe not.
Java had stopped whistling because he was sawing with his mouth. His teeth were like little sharp blades cutting into the wood. You can’t whistle when your mouth is full of sawdust.
Gulp. What if someone saw him sawing like that?
Quickly, I leaped in front of my cousin, blocking him from view.
But I was too late.
“Did you see what I saw?” I heard Jerry ask Sherry.
“Did you see how he sawed?” Sherry asked Jerry.
“I saw. I saw,” they both said.
Double gulp. The twins were sure to figure out Java’s secret now! I had to say something. Anything.
“Our doctor told Java he needed more fiber in his diet,” I told them quickly. “There’s a lot of fiber in wood. Haven’t you ever heard of fiberboard?”
Jerry shook his head. “I bet your dentist is going to be really mad at him.”
“Our dentist gets mad when I eat a chewy ca
ramel,” Sherry told me.
Wow. Maybe the Silverspoon twins weren’t as smart as I thought they were.
“Okay, everyone,” Mr. Fluff called out as he walked into the auditorium. “Let’s get started with rehearsal. Can the animals and the trees take their places, please?”
The other animals and I walked over to the middle of the stage. The Silverspoon twins stood in the back and raised their branches.
“Can you guys working on the sets and scenery keep it down, please?” Mr. Fluff called backstage.
The kids who were painting scenery and building sets got very quiet. Well, all the kids except—
“I CAN DO IT!” Java shouted suddenly. He dropped to the ground with a thud. “See?” he told Mr. Fluff proudly. “I can keep it down. All the way down.”
Some of the kids started laughing. But I didn’t. I didn’t think there was anything funny about Java.
The kids in the play were my new friends. I wanted them to like me. And they had started to.
But now Java was going to be at all the rehearsals. Which probably meant I was going to be known as Chipmunk Number Three, the kid with the weird cousin who ate wood.
Java was ruining everything.
8.
The Dance of the Animals
“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about,” I told Leah on the night of our dress rehearsal. “Doing this show tomorrow night will be a piece of cake.”
“You’re not nervous at all?” she asked me, biting her nails.
“Nope,” I said proudly. “I know my line. And, I’ve been practicing all the songs and dances.”
Leah and I were standing backstage, watching Nadine and Dylan rehearse a scene with the fifth grader who was playing the Wicked Witch.
While we were waiting for our turn to go on, Leah pulled nervously at her gopher costume. But I was cool and calm.
“You mean Hansel and I can eat the whole house?” I heard Nadine say.
“Of course,” the Wicked Witch answered. “Come inside with me.”
That was my cue. I hurried onto the stage with the other woodland critters.
“Look, there’s a boy and a girl!” I shouted my line loud and strong.
“They’re going into the witch’s house,” one of the rabbits said.
“They’ll be sorry,” added the turtle.
Mr. Fluff began playing the piano. All of the animals started to sing and dance.
Deep in the woods is where she lives.
She’s always angry and never forgives.
We forest animals stay safe, tucked away.
When the wicked witch comes out to play.
You silly girl, you silly boy.
Her candy house is just a ploy.
As sure as a flower has a petal
The witch will eat Hansel and Gretel.
When the song ended, I blew up my chipmunk cheeks really, really big. Then I scurried offstage with the other animals.
“See?” I said to Leah. “I told you it would be easy. No reason to be nervous at all.”
At the end of the rehearsal, Mr. Fluff stood up behind his piano. “Now, children, when the show is over we will take our bows. Let’s practice the curtain call.”
Just then, I heard a loud shout coming from backstage.
“I CAN DO IT!” Java hollered. He got down on his knees and started calling, “Here curtain! Here curtain, curtain!”
“What’s your cousin doing now?” Sherry asked me.
I had no idea.
“Here curtain, curtain!” Java called again, louder this time.
“I think he’s calling the curtain.” Jerry said.
The twins started giggling.
I felt my face getting very hot. I was glad my cheeks were covered with my chipmunk makeup. That way, no one could tell how badly Java had embarrassed me.
Again.
9.
A Logan-sicle
“Look, there’s a boy and a girl,” I said in an English accent.
“Look, there’s a boy and a girl,” I said in a French accent.
“Look, there’s a boy and a girl,” I said in an Armenian accent.
I was standing backstage on the night of the show practicing my one line. Java was backstage, too, waiting to open the curtains for the “Dance of the Animals” scene.
“Java, can you grab a bottle of water for me?” I asked him. “Actors cannot be parched on stage. And I am very parched.”
Parched had been our vocabulary Word-for-Today a few weeks ago. I knew it meant thirsty. I also knew I could have just said thirsty. But parched sounded so much more actor-y.
Java reached into the ice bucket and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here you go, Logan,” he said.
I took a sip and practiced my line again. “Look, there’s a boy and a girl,” I said in an old man’s voice.
“Look,” I said in a baby’s voice. “There’s a—”
But before I could finish practicing my line again, I heard the witch say to Hansel and Gretel, “Come inside with me.”
That was my cue. I ran onstage with the other animals. I opened my mouth to say my line …
And nothing came out.
Not a word.
Not even a sound.
I started to sweat so badly, I could smell my own pits.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe.
All I could do was stare out into that big, crowded audience.
“Oh, no,” I heard somebody backstage shout. “He’s got stage fright.”
“It’s like Logan’s frozen!” somebody else added.
The next thing I heard was …
“I CAN DO IT!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Java reach into the cooler and pull out a huge block of solid ice.
He put it in his mouth and started chewing on it. He turned the ice around and around in his mouth. Then he spit out a perfectly carved, Logan-shaped popsicle.
A Logan-sicle.
“It’s a frozen Logan,” I heard him tell the kids standing backstage.
“Say your line,” Leah whispered to me. She nudged me hard in the side.
But I couldn’t say my line. I couldn’t remember it. I couldn’t remember anything. My mind was blank.
And then, from the side of the stage I heard Java whisper, “Look, there’s a boy and a girl.”
That was my line! Now I remembered what I was supposed to say.
So I said it. In a perfect chipmunk voice. “Look, there’s a boy and a girl.”
Phew. I took a deep breath and smiled. I knew I could do it. Piece of cake.
Okay, maybe it hadn’t exactly been a piece of cake. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Java, it would have been a disaster.
For once, I was really happy to have had my cousin nearby.
10.
A Round of Applause
“Time for the curtain call,” Mr. Fluff announced from behind his piano.
The show was over. There was nothing left for us to do but to take our bows. All the actors in the show ran out onstage.
I started to follow them. Then I stopped and grabbed Java’s hand. I dragged him out there on the stage with me.
The other kids who had been working on stage followed behind him.
My cousin deserved some applause, too. When he’d whispered my line to me, he saved the show. Or at least my part of it.
“What are you bringing them out for?” Sherry whispered angrily.
“The curtain call is only for the actors,” Jerry added.
“The kids who work backstage deserve applause, too,” I argued. “Java was really important tonight. I think everybody should give him a hand.”
“I CAN DO IT!” Java shouted. He started to unscrew his hand from his wrist. “Do you want me to give you a hand, Logan?”
I definitely did not want him to give me his hand—not in front of the whole audience. So I grabbed his hand and held it tightly in place.
And then, together, my cousin and I took our bows.
“We did it, Java!” I cheered.
“Yes, we did, Logan,” Java added.
My cousin and I had worked really hard. We had helped make the show a real success.
We bowed again.
“Come on, folks,” Mr. Fluff shouted to the audience. “Let’s give them another big round of applause.”
“I CAN DO IT!” Java shouted out again.
Uh oh. What now?
Java yanked his hand away from mine. He started clapping and moving his arms in a big round circle.
I laughed. That was actually pretty funny.
Some of the other kids started laughing, too. They began moving their clapping hands around in circles.
Soon, everyone in the theater was giving us another round of applause—Java-style.
I looked over at my cousin and grinned. I was really happy about how tonight had turned out for Java and me. We were superstars! Both of us.
I guess my robot cousin and I really do have have something in common, after all.
There’s a Chipmunk in Your Closet!
Okay, maybe it’s not a real chipmunk.
But if you have an old brown glove, some thread and a wooden bead lying around in your coat closet, you have the makings of a very chipper chipmunk toy !
Here’s what you will need:
1 brown wool glove
Polyester toy stuffing
2 pipe cleaners (You’ll cut 1 of these in half.)
2 spools of embroidery thread (one black, one brown)
1 black or brown wooden bead
1 black fabric pen
Sewing pins
1 sewing needle
1 pair of scissors
1 handy-dandy adult to help you out
Optional: Orange, white, and dark brown thread for decoration.
Here’s what you do:
Turn the glove inside-out.
Use the fabric pen to label the parts of the chipmunk on the inside of the glove. The picture will show you how to draw the parts onto the glove. Make sure you copy both the dotted lines and the solid ones.
