Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2 - TEN EXCUSES WE COULD GIVE ROBERT FOR WHY HE CAN’T COME ON THE TRIP
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
About the Authors
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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1098765
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To my wife Stacey who taught me the meaning of true courage and inner power.—H.W.
For the magical women of Beverly Blvd.—Kimmie T, Mercedes, Kim, Lauri, Courtney and Chelsea—who have turned work into fun—L.O.
CHAPTER 1
“I HAVE GREAT NEWS,” I said. “Charlie the Clown has diarrhea.”
My best friend, Frankie Townsend, looked at me like my brain had just flopped out of my head and turned into mashed potatoes.
“Hey, man, that is super news,” Frankie said, rolling his eyes. “It’s always cool to hear about a clown with stomach problems.”
Ashley Wong, my other best friend, burst out laughing and fell down onto the old couch that we use for meetings in our clubhouse. Our clubhouse is a storage room in the basement of our apartment building.
“Go ahead and laugh, Ashweena,” I said to her. “But you won’t be laughing when you hear that there’s money in this for us.”
Ashley stopped laughing immediately, like I knew she would. She is the business manager for Magik 3, which is the magic group we started a couple of months ago. We’ve performed two times for real money. Frankie is the magician, and he’s a great one, too. I’m the magician’s assistant and all-around idea man. Ashley is really good at the money part, which makes me happy because I don’t understand money or change or anything like that.
“Talk to me, Hank,” Ashley said. “I’m hearing a business opportunity.”
“My Aunt Maxine is throwing a birthday party this weekend for my three-year-old twin cousins, Jake and Zack,” I began. “Charlie the Clown was supposed to perform. But it turns out he ate some bad clams at Luigi’s Oyster house. Now he’s got—”
“Diarrhea,” Frankie and Ashley chimed in, stifling a laugh.
“Right. And he can’t do the party.”
“And you suggested to your Aunt Maxine that Magik 3 might just be available?” Ashley asked hopefully.
“Yup. For the low, low bargain price of thirty dollars,” I said. “Ten bucks for each of us.”
“Hank Zipzer, you are a total genius!” Ashley shouted, slapping me a major high five. “What did your aunt say? Did she go for it?”
“Like guppies go for fish food,” I said.
“Zengawii!” Frankie said, which is a magic word he made up when he was in Zimbabwe last summer. “Charlie the Clown is out and Magik 3 is in!”
We jumped up to do a victory dance, but before we could so much as wiggle our butts, Robert Upchurch appeared at our clubhouse door. Robert thinks he’s our best friend just because he lives in our building. We keep trying to tell him he’s not, but nothing we say will convince him of that. Even though he’s only in third grade and we’re all in fourth grade, he still sticks to us like peanut butter sticks to your braces.
“A word of advice,” Robert chimed in without being asked. “Three-year-olds are a tough audience.”
One annoying thing about Robert is that he offers information even when no one asks for it. Another annoying thing about Robert is that his information is almost always right. That’s really hard to stomach.
“Guys, the little man does have a point,” Frankie whispered to us. “Three-year-olds can barely pee in a toilet, how are they going to pick a card, any card, and remember what it is?”
“For ten bucks each, we’ll make it work,” said Ashley.
“We have something else we have to make work,” I pointed out. “My aunt and uncle live all the way out on Long Island in Westhampton, and my parents are planning on spending the night. Do you think your parents will let you go?”
“Mine will,” Robert said. “No problem here.”
“Robert, the name of the group is Magik 3, not Magik 4,” Ashley pointed out.
“That’s three-Hank, Ashley, and me,” Frankie added.
Robert looked at us with sad little puppy dog eyes on his sad little skinny face.
“Guys, you wouldn’t go without me, would you?” he whined. “You’re my best friends.”
“No, we’re not, Robert.”
“What are you going to do? Leave me here all weekend?”
“Yes,” we all said in unison.
“You can’t go without me,” Robert said. “Can you picture it? You out there on Long Island having ice cream and cake, and me, back here, eating a frozen breakfast burrito with freezer burn?”
Robert sure knows how to guilt you.
“You don’t even have to pay me anything. I’ll assist for free.”
“Actually, you’d have to pay us,” Ashley said.
“It’s a deal,” said Robert. “Seventy-five cents apiece.”
“A dollar,” said Ashley. I told you she’s great with money matters.
“Give me a break, Ashley,” said Robert. “I only get a third-grade allowance. And a dollar is seven-eighths of it.”
Ashley glanced over at me to see what we should do. I couldn’t decide. We would definitely have more fun if we left Robert behind in New York. But he rea
lly wanted to go, and we’re not coldhearted kids. At least not totally.
CHAPTER 2
TEN EXCUSES WE COULD GIVE ROBERT FOR WHY HE CAN’T COME ON THE TRIP
1. Westhampton is at the beach, and it’s very windy. Robert could get picked up by the wind and blown out to sea. Okay, it doesn’t happen often, but it could.
2. A flock of seagulls could mistake Robert for a large rodent and swoop down and carry him off to their nest. Okay, it doesn’ t happen often, but it happens.
3. Robert is a walking, talking encyclopedia of facts. My Aunt Maxine gets a rash if she hears too many facts.
4. My Uncle Gary gets a rash if my Aunt Maxine gets a rash.
5. There is only a limited amount of oxygen in the car and let’s face it, Robert just sucks in too much of it.
6. Robert is so skinny he could slip through a crack in the seat and we could lose him and never know it.
7. Robert has such bad allergies that the beach air would make his nose run so much there isn’t enough Kleenex in all of Long Island to handle the slime.
8. The twins are having an ice-cream birthday cake and Robert himself has told me many times (way too many times) that ice cream gives him mucus build-up.
9. He’d have to sit next to my weird younger sister Emily in the backseat of the minivan and-
Wait a minute. Hank Zipzer, look what you just came up with. Robert would have to sit next to my sister Emily in the car! THAT MEANS I WOULDN’T HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO HER!!
Robert, my man. Good news! You’re invited to a birthday party!
CHAPTER 3
WHEN I POINTED OUT to Frankie and Ashley that they wouldn’t have to sit next to Emily either, they agreed to let Robert come along. No one wants to get stuck next to my younger sister for two hours in a backseat. It’s not like she smells bad or anything. It’s just that she talks all the time about weird stuff. The mating habits of iguanas is a favorite topic of hers.
“Okay, Robert, you can come,” I said.
These words did not pop easily out of my mouth.
Robert jumped up and shook his bony butt in a victory dance, which is something I hope you never have to see.
“I told my aunt I’d let her know tomorrow if we can do the show,” I said. “So check with your parents to see if Saturday and Sunday are okay.”
“Wait, wait, wait ...” Frankie said. “Zip, did you mean to say the party is this Saturday?”
“Yeah. Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem,” said Frankie. “A tragedy. Make that a catastrophe.”
“What’s wrong?” I didn’t like the look on Frankie’s face.
“This Saturday is the Monster Movie Marathon on Channel 48,” he said. “All monsters all the time. These twins are how old?”
“Three.”
“That’s bad. We all remember the three-year-old-birthday-party drill, right? Twelve thirty pizza. One o‘clock magic show. One thirty piñata. Two o’clock cake and ice cream. Two thirty party favors. Two thirty-five balloon tied around kids’ wrists. Two forty pick up. And parents, please be prompt.”
“What are you, a walking invitation?” I said.
“Hear me, Zip.” Frankie suddenly looked very serious. “That schedule puts the magic show smack in the middle of The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo starring Vic Avalanche. I’ve been waiting to see that movie since the day I was born. Before, even.”
“Frankie, are you saying you’d turn down a career opportunity for a stupid monster movie?” Ashley asked.
“I didn’t hear that, Ashweena,” Frankie said. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would call The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo a stupid monster movie. It’s an underground classic. Aboveground, too. I’m sorry, guys. I just can’t go.”
“Frankie,” I said, sitting down on a cardboard box that was filled with our neighbor Mrs. Fink’s extra bathrobes. “I just want you to know this. When I was on the phone with my Aunt Maxine, and she told the twins that we might come perform at their party, I heard them in the background. They weren’t just yelling and screaming with excitement. They were crazed with happiness. They were jumping up and down on their pudgy little legs, and one of them, Zack I think, even threw himself on the hardwood floor. I heard the thud. But if you think a monster movie is more important than bringing that kind of joy into their little lives, then I think YOU should call them and tell them.”
Frankie was chewing on his bottom lip, like he does when he’s got a hard decision to make. I knew how much he loved monster movies. But I also knew how much I wanted Magik 3 to get this job. I have to admit, I can be pretty convincing when I want to be.
“But Zip,” he said. “This is the original Mutant Moth movie. The one that started them all.”
“I’m seeing the twins,” I said. “I’m seeing their little smiling faces looking up at us on their special day. You so good, you so good, they yell.”
“We could always tape the movie,” Ashley said.
Of course. Where were my brains? I wish I had thought of that solution.
“Our VCR is busted,” Frankie said, “and my dad doesn’t want to fix it because he thinks we watch too much TV anyway.”
“Okay then, here’s the plan,” I said, lowering my voice to almost a whisper. “We’ll bring our own blank tape to my aunt’s house. My Uncle Gary has incredible video equipment and an awesome TV room. We’ll tape the movie there and right after the party, we’ll watch The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo on his big-screen TV. No commercials, no interruptions, no parents hanging around. How great does that sound? Personally, I can’t wait.”
Frankie thought about it for a minute. “I need your solemn promise that we will tape the film and watch it right after the magic show, Zip. Nothing can come between me and that movie.”
We put our hands one on top of another. Robert tried to sneak his hand in there, too. We let him. Like I said before, we’re not totally coldhearted.
“A promise made is a promise kept,” we all said at once.
“Okay, then I’ll go,” said Frankie.
“Zengali!” I hollered.
“Hank, don’t even try,” Frankie said, shaking his head. “The word is zengawii.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Here’s to Magik 3 and our next paying performance!”
CHAPTER 4
THAT NIGHT, WE ALL checked with our parents.
Frankie’s mom and dad said if he straightened up his room he could go.
Ashley’s mom and dad said okay, too. They’re both doctors and they had a conference they were supposed to go to and Ashley was going to stay with her grandmother anyway. I hope their conference was on how to give booster shots that don’t hurt, because I think doctors could use a conference about that.
Robert checked with his mom, and unfortunately, she said she’d be thrilled to have him go with us. I don’t blame her. If Robert were my son, and somebody said, “I’ll take this walking encyclopedia off your hands for a day,” boy, I’d jump at the chance.
Oddly enough, it was my parents who were the problem.
“I know you and Aunt Maxine discussed you performing at the party,” my mom said, “but your schoolwork comes first.”
“But Mom, I already told my friends it was a done deal.”
“Let’s go look at the chart and see if you can afford the time away this weekend.”
I have a chart in my room that says what all my assignments are and when they’re due. I didn’t always have this chart. We just put it up a couple of weeks ago, when I found out I have learning challenges.
It’s not like I’m stupid. It’s just that certain things are really hard for me, like almost everything you learn in school. My dad had always thought I was lazy. The principal of my school, Leland Love, said I wasn’t living up to my potential. My teacher, Ms. Adolf, said I wasn’t focusing on my responsibilities. She also gave me four Ds on my report card. Wow, that really embarrassed me.
Then this nice woman who works at my school, Dr. Lynn Berger,
gave me a bunch of tests that showed I’m not lazy or stupid—I just learn differently. One of the things she suggested is for me to have a chart in my room that reminds me of everything I have to do in school. That way, I don’t forget my assignments and I focus better.
We went into my bedroom and looked at the chart. In the square for Monday, I had written the words SCIENCE PROJECT in red letters. Our actual science projects weren’t due for three weeks, but by Monday, we had to pick our topic and say why we picked it. I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do.
“Why don’t you ask Emily for ideas?” my mother suggested. “She’s excellent in science.”
My sister Emily is nine annoying years old. Sometimes I think she’s really an alien being. There’s no other way to explain her behavior. Like she polishes her fingernails ten different colors. Twenty different colors if you count her toenails. And listen to this. She sleeps with her eyes open. I’m not kidding. She rolls her eyes back in her head and all you see is the white part.
“If I ask Emily, I already know what she’ll say,” I answered. “She’ll tell me to write about reptiles.” Emily loves everything that’s cold-blooded. If it’s ugly and has scales, you can count her in.
“What’s wrong with reptiles?” said a voice from behind me. It was none other than Lizard Girl herself, with Katherine, her pet iguana, wrapped around her neck like a scarf.
“Reptiles shed their own skin,” I said. “How can you love something that walks right out of its own skin and leaves it there on the ground for other people to crunch on?”
“Hank, you are so narrow-minded,” Emily said.
“At least I don’t bite my toenails,” I shot back.
“Stop it, you two,” my mom said, holding up her hand, “or we’re not going away for the weekend at all.”
“Where are we going?” asked Emily.
“We’re talking about going to Uncle Gary and Aunt Maxine’s for the twins’ birthday,” my mom answered.
The Day of the Iguana Page 1
