Teddy Mars Book #3

by Molly B. Burnham

  IT’S ALL GOING SO WELL

  Lonnie watches the clock and counts the seconds. “Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-four.”

  Viva spins the shoelace and Smarty Pants runs in circles chasing it.

  “You can do it, Smarty Pants,” I say. And I really believe she can. She’s awesome at chasing a string. I never knew she could do this for so long.

  But then The Destructor runs in, his tin can clothes clanging against one another. “Guess what!” he yells. Smarty Pants takes one look at him and runs away. I would, too, but The Destructor hugs me so I can’t move.

  “Never mind,” he squeals. “You’ll never guess. I’m coming to your school tomorrow! Mom just told me. It’s visiting day!” He lets go of me. “I can’t wait. Mom says you’re my buddy and I don’t have anything to worry about. And I know it’s true.” He hugs me one more time, then grabs the shoelace from Viva and says, “I’ll throw this away.” Before Viva can tell him it’s from her sneakers he dumps it in the trash and walks out of the room.

  “Breathe,” Viva says. “Just breathe.”

  “I don’t think I can,” I squeak.

  Lonnie puts an arm around me. “We’ll help out.”

  “Even with your awesome Jedi skills I don’t think it will make a difference.”

  Lonnie thinks about this and then nods, because he knows I am right.

  MORNINGS ARE HECTIC

  Two parents, five sisters, two bathrooms, and me never goes well. Add The Destructor to the mix, and it’s really bad.

  The Destructor and I are standing in the hall waiting for Grace to get out of the bathroom. “You can’t go to school like that,” I say.

  “Like what?”

  “In tin cans.”

  “Why not?” The Destructor asks.

  “Because there are rules at school. Things like walking quietly in the halls, raising your hand, and last but not least, wearing real clothes.”

  “These are real clothes.”

  “It’s a rule,” I say.

  “Maybe I’ll break the rules,” he says.

  “You can’t break rules,” I explain. “It’s not legal.”

  “Maybe I won’t go to school.”

  Mom walks up. “What do you mean, you won’t go to school?”

  “Teddy says I’m not allowed to wear my tin cans. It’s a rule.”

  Mom gives me a look. “You know how much I love you, right, Jake?”

  “Can Boy,” he corrects.

  She smiles. “You know how much I love you, but you will go to school. Even if I have to change the rule about tin cans.”

  His eyes get really big. “You can do that?”

  “If I have to.”

  I don’t know if Mom can change the rule, but out of anyone I know, she’s probably the only one who could.

  And if she did, I can honestly say it would definitely feel like she’s trying to break a world record for most annoying parent!

  SPECIAL TREATMENT

  Because The Destructor is coming to school today, Mom drives us. In the car, she explains to The Destructor how I will take him to the kindergarten line, and how he will spend half the day in kindergarten, but will see me a lot.

  The Destructor doesn’t look worried at all, in fact, he smiles, but Mom adds, “And if you need anything, Teddy will be there, because he’s your buddy.”

  I groan. Mom looks at me in the rearview mirror. “Teddy, there are some rules to being a big brother. And one of them is to help out sometimes.”

  I can tell by her voice that she’s serious, so I don’t say anything, but I can’t help wondering when he’ll help me. Actually, I already know the answer. It will be the same day I break the record for largest collection of navel fluff, also known as belly-button lint.

  In other words, never.

  MS. RAFFELI VERSUS PRINCESS LEIA

  As we walk up to the kindergarten line, he stops. “I don’t want to go there.”

  “But that’s what you do on visiting day,” I say.

  “I’m not going there.”

  “Destructor, you have to.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re my buddy. I’m staying with you. All day.”

  I look for Mom, but she’s already driven off. I grab The Destructor by his arm and start to pull him to the kindergarten line. He melts to the ground.

  “Fine,” I say. “Come on.” He pops up and runs to my line, where Lonnie and Viva are waving. They give The Destructor the high five when we arrive.

  “Isn’t he supposed to be with the kindergarteners?” Viva looks confused.

  “Yup,” I say.

  “Not going?” Lonnie asks.

  I shake my head. “Ms. Raffeli can sort it out.”

  But today Ms. Raffeli doesn’t meet us outside, so we walk into school, through the hallway, up the stairs, and into my classroom. The Destructor is totally quiet the whole time. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t touch the art on the walls. Of course there’s still the clatter of his cans. He can’t hide that.

  In the classroom, The Destructor weaves into the chaos. He finds a hook and takes off the empty backpack he insisted on bringing. Lonnie, Viva, and I watch him like we’re witnessing the highest blindfolded tightrope crossing (557.89 feet), which is very high and would be very stressful. But he makes it out unhurt and bounds over to the rug just as a foot collides with my shin. Lonnie and Viva sit next to him, but when I come he pushes Viva over so I have a place. A minute later Ms. Raffeli sits in her chair.

  “Oh, Jake!” she says. “You startled me! It’s kindergarten visiting day, isn’t it?”

  The Destructor smiles a huge smile. “Yup!” he says.

  “Usually that means being in kindergarten.”

  He keeps smiling. “I’m staying here. And I like you.” He reaches out and grabs Ms. Raffeli’s hand. Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead and stop when they’re as tall as the tallest sand castle (45 feet 10.25 inches).

  Ms. Raffeli and I have a special relationship. Mostly because she knows my family very well since she has taught every single one of my sisters. This means I don’t have to explain anything to her. She knows it all. She’s also a real stickler for following school rules, so I am sure she will get The Destructor where he is supposed to be.

  She looks at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” She walks to the class phone to call the principal.

  Lonnie says, “If there was a battle between Ms. Raffeli and Princess Leia, I know whose side I’d want to be on.”

  “Duh, Ms. Raffeli,” Viva says.

  We all agree because when it comes to Ms. Raffeli, there’s no stopping her.

  MS. RAFFELI VERSUS PRINCESS LEIA PART 2

  While Ms. Raffeli is on the phone, The Destructor makes himself comfortable on the rug, and all my classmates circle around him and ask about his tin cans.

  “First off, I like to be called Can Boy.”

  Lewis says, “I knew that.”

  I let out a Darth Vader breath.

  “Do you like to recycle?” Ny asks.

  “Totally,” he says.

  Jasmine B. points to his tin can shirt. “How long did it take you to make that?”

  “Days,” The Destructor says. “Maybe even months. Probably close to a year.”

  I shake my head, but decide not to correct him. No one would believe that he could do something like that in minutes.

  And Jasmine H. asks, “Do those cans get uncomfortable?”

  “Only when I lie down, and sometimes when I’m sitting up. Also when I laugh.”

  Serena flips her hair in my face. “Your brother is adorable.”

  Cornelio says, “He’s one of a kind.”

  Angus hops over with his shirt pulled down over his knees. “Want to hop with me?”

  And The Destructor pops up and starts hopping with Angus. He can’t pull his tin can shirt over his knees but besides that he imitates Angus perfectly.

  Ms. Raffeli walks back. “It’s all settled.”

  I breat
he a sigh of relief.

  “He will stay with us this morning.”

  “But—” I start to say.

  Ms. Raffeli stops me. “Don’t worry. Because you’re his buddy anyway, he was going to spend time with you. We’ll just do it here instead of kindergarten.”

  She looks at The Destructor and Angus, who are still hopping. “I will need your help with him today, as both his buddy and his big brother.” She pauses and we watch him hop around the room. “You’ll probably need to control him a little bit.”

  Control him? Be his buddy? Act like a big brother? Who do people think I am?

  There’s only one person who could do all that, and that’s Yoda. And the chances of me turning into an over-eight-hundred-year-old little green guy with big ears who can use the Force like nobody else in the universe is a lot to ask. Even for a record breaker like me.

  LONGEST ICE AGE

  Ms. Raffeli sits down. Angus hops back to the rug, and amazingly The Destructor follows him. He settles down in a spot next to me. Ms. Raffeli reaches behind her and pulls out a large plastic bag.

  “Mystery bag!” we all cry out. Ms. Raffeli always starts a new unit the same way, with the mystery bag, and with us using clues from the bag to guess what the next unit will be. Considering we have so few days of school left, I can’t imagine what more we need to learn. But Ms. Raffeli clearly has something to teach us.

  The Destructor looks at me. “This is so great,” he says. “I don’t know why you ever complain about school.”

  Everyone laughs, even Ms. Raffeli. My face gets hot. The Destructor smiles. “I think they like me,” he whispers in my face.

  Ms. Raffeli holds out the bag. “Who wants to go first?” she asks. And right then and there I think maybe I do have a little Yoda in me, because I know without a doubt that something is going to happen. And it does. The Destructor rushes up, grabs the bag, and dumps all the clues out on the floor. We all watch, frozen to our spots as if we’re living through the longest ice age, which took place more than 2.3 billion years ago and lasted about 70 million years.

  Finally Ms. Raffeli unfreezes and says, “I thought you were going to watch him for me.”

  I have to admit, it’s really nice that Ms. Raffeli thinks I can keep him under control. At the start of the year I’m pretty sure she didn’t think I could control myself.

  It makes me feel proud of the progress I’ve made, but she and I both know it would take a whole ice age to get The Destructor under control.

  MYSTERY BAG

  After we recover from the destruction that The Destructor caused, Ms. Raffeli decides we’ll do mystery bag a little differently, and lets us just dig through the pile of clues.

  Cornelio pulls out a stuffed animal that’s a bird.

  “A measuring tape,” Lonnie says as he grabs it off the rug.

  Viva holds up a banana in a plastic bag.

  Ny pulls out a copy of The Guinness Book of World Records! “Was this yours, Ms. Raffeli?”

  Ms. Raffeli nods. “From when I was a kid.”

  It’s not the right time, but I have to get a closer look at that book.

  Jasmine B. and Jasmine H. hold up a picture of them on the monkey bars from the beginning of the year.

  Crystal finds a figurine of the Empire State Building from the trip she took to New York City over spring vacation. And Angus pulls out a plain old plastic bag, like the ones our class used when we tried to break the record for largest collection of plastic bags.

  Serena holds up a small plastic skunk. She smiles at me. “Remember when you got skunked, Teddy?”

  I can feel my face get hot again.

  Jasmine B. and Jasmine H. laugh. “That was funny.”

  “And stinky,” Cornelio says.

  “I wasn’t stinky,” I say. “I didn’t come back until the stink was gone.”

  “That’s what you think,” Lonnie and Viva say at the exact same time, which makes everyone burst into laughter, including me.

  “Ms. Raffeli.” Lewis raises his hand. “I know what this unit is.”

  Lewis always says this, but Lewis knowing this is like me breaking the record for being the oldest gymnast in the world. It’s not going to happen.

  “It’s things we’ve done this year,” Lewis shouts.

  “Exactly!” Ms. Raffeli smiles.

  And I’m left wondering how I’ll break the news to Mom and Dad that I am now Johanna Quaas, the 86-year-old woman who holds the record for oldest gymnast in the world.

  GLITTER AND GLUE STICKS

  “We will spend the rest of the day doing an art project.”

  “YES!” The Destructor pops out of Ms. Raffeli’s lap. “I love art.”

  “You could go to kindergarten,” I say. “They do a lot of art there.”

  The Destructor ignores me. Ms. Raffeli hands each of us a shoe box, even The Destructor.

  “You will fill these boxes with your memories from this school year,” she says. “You can use words, drawings, even clay.” She points to the center table, where she’s put out a bunch of supplies like markers, glue sticks, colored paper, and scissors. “The only rule is that everything must connect to something you have done, either in or out of school this year.” She pauses, looks around, and says, “Let’s get to work.”

  And we all do. Ms. Raffeli lets The Destructor sit at Lonnie’s seat because both he and Viva and a couple of other students go off to meet their buddies down in kindergarten.

  After twenty minutes, The Destructor has a giant mess of marker on his face, glitter in his hair, and glue everywhere else.

  Ms. Raffeli leans over me, holding an open container of glitter in each hand. “At least it’s all on him,” she says just as she walks past me and slips on glue sticks The Destructor dumped on the floor.

  This explains why I am now covered from head to toe in glitter. If only I hadn’t screamed when it happened then my mouth would have been closed instead of open.

  In The Guinness Book of World Records there is a record for walking the greatest distance with a milk bottle balanced on the head (80.96 miles). Walking 80.96 miles balancing anything on my head would be hard, but I have to say getting glitter off the tongue is harder.

  THE LAST SPARKLE

  I’m still working on my tongue and the glitter when Lonnie and Viva come back. They’re all smiles and talking about how cute their buddies are. Then the principal announces over the loudspeaker that there will be an all-school assembly to welcome our incoming kindergarteners.

  The only thing worse than welcoming The Destructor to my school would be breaking the record for holding 21 live cockroaches in my mouth.

  The gym is packed when we arrive. Every single student and every single visiting student is smiling. I’m smiling, too, because I finally wiped the last piece of glitter off my tongue.

  TONGUE-TIED

  Grades always sit in groups, so the fifth grade is together, the fourth grade is together, all the way down to kindergarten. The only difference today is that the incoming kindergartners sit in the kindergarten section, and their buddies sit with them. Of course, The Destructor refuses to sit with the other kindergartners, so we stay with Ms. Raffeli, who says to The Destructor, “Try not to move.” This is good advice, especially for a kid wearing tin cans.

  Lonnie gives me a pat on the back.

  Viva says, “Good luck.” And they both head off to their buddies.

  Ms. Johnson, the principal, taps on her microphone. “Welcome to all the children who are visiting today.” I don’t hear anything else she says because The Destructor immediately hops over to Angus, his tin cans clanging. I stretch out and try to stop him, but all I grab is a tin can, which only makes more noise. Ms. Raffeli makes the quiet signal, which is why I miss what is going on until Ms. Raffeli taps me on the shoulder, hands me the microphone, and explains that I should stand up and introduce my brother.

  All I see are hundreds of eyes on me. My heart beats faster than the wingbeat of the ruby-throated hu
mmingbird (200 beats per second). My face gets hotter than the hottest chili in the world (Smokin Ed’s Carolina Reaper). And to top it off, I try to say something but my mouth feels like it just broke the record for eating the most powdered donuts in three minutes (6). I do not feel good.

  All of a sudden The Destructor pops up and says, “Hi, I’m Can Boy. I’m Teddy’s brother. I want to make it clear, I’m never taking off my tin cans. I don’t care what the rules are!” He hands me the microphone and plops down.

  I stand there until Ms. Johnson takes the microphone from my hands and says, “Thank you.” And then, like the largest scoop of ice cream (3,010 pounds) after a long day in the sun, I melt to the floor.

  CAN’T BREATHE

  The rest of the assembly is just a bunch of noise to me, but finally it ends, and that’s when Mom shows up to collect The Destructor. She’s looking happier than I’ve seen her in years, which couldn’t be more opposite from how I feel.

  “Thanks.” The Destructor waves good-bye. “This was the best day ever.”

  Lonnie looks at me and says, “This is a time when breathing like Darth Vader would probably help.”

  I’m sure he’s right, but I feel so mad about this day that I can’t even breathe. And I’m only halfway through it!

  CAT RECORDS PART 3

  Right as we come home, Smarty Pants starts meowing at Lonnie, Viva, and me.

  “She must be hungry,” Lonnie says. No one is home, not Mom or The Destructor or my sisters. I find a note from Mom: Be back soon. With a surprise!

  Viva smiles. “I love surprises! Do you think it’s a thank-you present for being such a good brother today? Maybe cake, or a new world record book?”

  Lonnie shakes his head. “You still don’t know Teddy’s family very well, do you?”

  “What’s that mean?” Viva asks.

  “It means,” I say, “that surprises in my family are never good.”