The Day of the Iguana

by Henry Winkler

  “We can’t do that,” Emily said. “What will we do with Katherine? You know she gets carsick.”

  One time, we took Katherine on a trip and she coughed up her lunch. She must have had grapes for dessert, because I’m sure I saw a whole green grape there on the backseat.

  “Dad!” Emily screamed. “We need you in here right away. I’m calling a family meeting.”

  Family meetings in our house are not as good as they sound. My mom calls them to remind us not to leave our wet towels on the carpet after we take a shower. My dad calls them to yell at us when we have to pay late fees for rented videotapes. Emily calls them just to whine. I never call them. Why call for a meeting you don’t want to attend in the first place?

  My father walked into my bedroom, still holding the newspaper folded to the crossword puzzle. He’s a crossword puzzle fanatic and proud of it.

  “I’m in a very good mood,” he said. “You’re looking at the man who just solved today’s crossword in six minutes and eleven seconds. A personal best.”

  “Congratulations, Dad,” I said.

  “Thank you, Hank. Now what’s the problem, Emily? I’m in a problem-solving mood.”

  “Mom says we’re making plans to go away for the weekend. No one has made plans for Katherine. Is she not a member of this family?”

  “I vote no,” I said immediately.

  “She can’t stay here alone,” Emily whined. “She’s afraid of the dark.”

  “Maybe Papa Pete can look after the beast,” I suggested. Papa Pete is my grandpa and the single best human being in the whole world.

  “Katherine is not a beast,” Emily said.

  “I was referring to you,” I said.

  “That’s enough, Hank,” my mom said. “Besides, Papa Pete can’t look after Katherine. He’s staying out in Westhampton for a couple of days. He wouldn’t miss the twins’ birthday. He’s their grandfather, too.”

  “What did we do with the animals when we went to Niagara Falls last summer?” my dad asked.

  “We left Cheerio with Mrs. Fink next door,” I said. Cheerio is our beige dachshund dog. We call him that because he’s always chasing his tail and when he spins around in a circle, he looks like a Cheerio. “I’ll bet Mrs. Fink would watch him again. They really bonded.”

  “Katherine stayed at the pet store,” Emily said. “George took care of her.”

  “You remember George, Dad,” I said. “The pet store guy who looks like a gerbil.”

  “He does not,” Emily said. “He just has a very furry beard.”

  “That starts at his eyebrows,” I said.

  “Emily, why don’t you find the phone number of the pet store,” Dad suggested.

  “It’s Pets for U and Me,” Mom said. “The number is on the wall by the kitchen phone.”

  “Call and find out how much it would cost to keep Katherine there overnight,” Dad suggested.

  “Does this mean we’re going?” I asked my mom. “I’ll work on my science project in Westhampton, I promise.”

  My mom thought for a moment. “Okay, we’ll go.”

  “Mom, you’re the greatest,” I said, giving her a big hug.

  “It’s about time you realized that,” she said, hugging me back.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE TWINS’ PARTY started at twelve thirty, so my dad told us we should be on the road Saturday morning by seven thirty, eight o‘clock the latest. It’s only about a three-hour drive to Westhampton, but he always builds in “lost time.” That’s the time when my dad is convinced it’s a right turn and my mother says, “Stanley, please, just this once, turn left,” and he doesn’t, and we get totally lost.

  My dad had rented a minivan for the trip and when he left to pick it up, he told us to be waiting outside the apartment building at eight o’clock sharp. I had called Frankie and Ashley and told them we were all meeting downstairs. Dad would drive by and get us, we’d drop off Katherine at Pets for U and Me, and then be on our way.

  But when it was time to leave the apartment, we couldn’t find Katherine anywhere. She wasn’t asleep in her cage. She wasn’t in the bathtub where she likes to hang out. She wasn’t under the dining room table sniffing for table scraps.

  “This isn’t like Katherine,” Emily said. “She’s never late.”

  “That’s because she never goes anywhere,” I pointed out.

  My dad was not happy when he had to leave the minivan on the street for over an hour while we searched the apartment for Katherine. I couldn’t believe that all four people in my family, plus Frankie and Ashley and Robert, were crawling around on our hands and knees looking for that scaly beast.

  “Where could she be?” I said to my mom. “We’ve looked everywhere.”

  “You’ve got to think like an iguana,” Emily said. “Put yourself in Katherine’s shoes.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I feel myself in four little tiny baby Nikes, size one, extra wide. Ouch, they’re hurting my claws!”

  Frankie and Ashley cracked up.

  “Hey guys, I found her!” called Robert from the other side of the room.

  He was crouched over the potted palm tree next to our front door. Sure enough, there was Katherine, her nasty little face poking out from behind one of the palm leaves.

  “Katherine!” cried Emily. “Come to mama!” She reached into the tree to pick her up, and Katherine hissed at her like she was a rattlesnake with gas. Lots of gas.

  “What’s the matter, sweetie pie?” Emily said in her baby reptile voice.

  “I’m sure she’s stressed,” Robert said. “She’s had a very terrifying experience.”

  Emily looked at Robert and-grab your stomachs because this is disgusting—she got all gooey eyed.

  “What a nice thing to say, Robert,” she said, still in her baby reptile voice. “I didn’t know you cared so much about iguana moods.”

  “Actually,” said Robert, “I’m fond of the whole reptile kingdom, including the bullfrog, the Gila monster, and the gecko, my favorite.”

  Could you just barf?

  Thank goodness my dad got down to business and cut this icky conversation short.

  “Emily, get a box for Katherine. Let’s hurry, everyone. We’re going to be late for the party.”

  We gathered Katherine and all our stuff and piled into the elevator. The minivan was parked outside, and luckily for us, we didn’t even get a parking ticket, since my father had double-parked. As soon as she saw the car, Emily yelled out, “Shotgun!”

  “Not in this lifetime,” I said. I turned to my mother, who was loading our stuff in the back. “Mom, tell her she’s not old enough. Plus, we have guests.”

  “Absolutely, and I’m one of them,” said Robert. “So I call shot—”

  I didn’t even let him finish the word.

  “Forget it, Robert. We had a deal, remember? You’re next to Lizard Girl. Way in the back.”

  It took some wrestling, but I got Emily to move into the backseat by the window on the driver’s side. Robert climbed in next to her. That still left one seat in the back, next to the two geekoids.

  “I can’t sit there,” Ashley said. “I get carsick.”

  “I do, too,” I said.

  “No, you don’t,” my mom called out from the back.

  “Well, I would if I had to sit next to them,” I said.

  Frankie took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” he said, “I’m going in. If I don’t survive the trip, give my signed Yankees baseball to my brother.”

  That’s what you call true friendship. Frankie and I get along almost all the time because we’ll do anything for each other. The only thing we ever fight about is that Frankie is a Yankees fan and I love, I mean love, the Mets. We’ve been able to stay best friends in spite of that.

  Frankie climbed in the backseat next to Robert and wedged himself as close as he could to the window. One inch further and he would’ve been sitting outside the car on the curb. He drew a line with his fingernail along the upholstery.


  “Robert,” he said. “If you cross this line, there will be consequences. Large ones and small ones.”

  “Can you give me an example, please?” asked Robert. Frankie reached over and gave Robert a noogie on his head, not too hard, just enough to make his point. Robert squealed like a kitten.

  “And that’s a small consequence,” Frankie said.

  Ashley and I slid into the middle bench. And my mom, without even calling it, got shotgun. I tell you, adults have it made.

  We drove down 78th Street, which is our block, past Mr. Kim’s grocery store. He was outside, using his green garden hose to put fresh water in the buckets of roses. We passed our school, P.S. 87. It was closed up tight, which is the way I like it best.

  When we reached Columbus Avenue, we stopped at the pet store and dropped Katherine off. George was waiting outside, and he was so happy to see her. Mr. Furry and Miss Scaly.

  We drove through Central Park. Lots of people were out walking their dogs. I saw a dachshund that looked just like Cheerio, except he was dressed in a plaid overcoat with four little red boots. Once on Halloween, we put a sailor hat on Cheerio. He didn’t like that and started doing his spinning thing. That time, he spun around so fast that the sailor hat flew off his head and landed directly on top of my dad’s head. It was amazing. If I knew the number, I would’ve called Ripley’s Believe It or Not. From that day on, we realized that Cheerio was a dog who will not wear people clothes. I give him credit for that.

  As we headed to the Triborough Bridge that takes you out of town, I turned and looked back at the skyline of Manhattan. Whenever I look at all the skyscrapers poking their tops up into the clouds, I always feel proud that New York is my city and lucky that I get to live in such an exciting place.

  We settled in for the ride to Westhampton. My mom, who is working on inventing healthy snack foods for the twenty-first century, offered everyone a taste of her new salt-free, wheat-free, taste-free soy pretzel snack that she stuffed with rice cheese. We all said we were really full.

  When the city was no longer in view, my mom turned in her seat and said the dreaded words.

  “Let’s sing some travel songs.”

  She does this on every car trip we take. She has a list in her head of really horrible songs-ones that are both long and bad-like “Found a Peanut”, “My Darling Clementine”, and of course, the always awful “Row Row Row Your Boat.”

  “That sounds like fun,” said Robert, and Emily agreed.

  What is wrong with them? Don’t they know the difference between fun and not-fun?

  “No singing,” I begged. The last thing I wanted to hear was Robert belting out “Row Row Row Your Boat” in his nasal little twang.

  “Then how about a game?” my mom suggested.

  “Great idea,” said Robert. “Why don’t we drill each other on multiplication tables?”

  “Why don’t I drill you through the backseat,” whispered Frankie.

  “I’ve got it,” Emily said. “Let’s shout out Amazing Iguana Facts.”

  Can you believe this girl and I come from the same mother and father?

  “Iguanas are born with eighty teeth, but by the time they get to be Mr. Zipzer’s age, they have one hundred and twenty teeth,” Robert said, without missing a beat.

  “Robert,” Emily said, “that is fascinating.”

  I turned around and stared at Emily. I have shared a house with this girl since the day she was born, but I had never heard that tone of voice come out of her. It sounded so sweet, like maple syrup covering a buckwheat pancake.

  “Furthermore,” Robert went on, staring straight at Emily, “did you know that two-thirds of an iguana’s length is its tail?”

  Emily cracked up.

  “Yes!” She giggled. “And when attacked, the iguana can break off its own tail.”

  “After which, it actually grows a new tail,” added Robert.

  Robert and Emily gave each other a high five. They were in nerd heaven. I glanced at Ashley and Frankie, and their eyes were rolling into the back of their heads.

  “Can we turn on the radio now?” I begged my mom. “I don’t even care if it’s your oldies station.” Anything to cover up the iguana fest that was oozing out of the backseat.

  It was after twelve thirty when we finally reached Westhampton. We drove through some woods into a pretty little town. Past the town was a clump of houses all painted pink and blue and yellow. They were new and low to the ground, not like the skyscrapers in Manhattan. Even though they were a few blocks away from the ocean, you could still see the sand underneath the lawns and in between the houses and on the sides of the streets. I recognized my Uncle Gary and Aunt Maxine’s house because my aunt had tied a bunch of “Happy Birthday” balloons around the shiny copper mailbox.

  We pulled into the driveway. Zack and Jake came running out to greet us, wearing red boots and capes.

  “They’re here, they’re here,” they shouted. And when I say shouted, I mean shouted. Those little guys had some powerful lungs.

  “Ank,” they said, jumping on me and spraying spit into my face. “Ank, did you bring us a present?”

  Papa Pete came running out to say hello. Even though he’s going to be sixty-eight next June 26, he’s in really good shape. With his bushy mustache and strong, hairy arms, he looked like a grizzly bear in a red sweatsuit.

  “How are all my grandkids?” Papa Pete said. Ashley and Frankie and Robert aren’t really related to him, but Papa Pete likes to call us all his grandkids anyway. He gave me a big pinch on the cheek.

  “I love this cheek and everything that’s attached to it,” he said. He pinched Ashley and Frankie, too, but when he went for Robert’s cheek, his fingers just slid right off.

  “I’ve got to introduce you to pastrami sandwiches,” he said to Robert. “Put a little meat on those bones.”

  For his whole life, Papa Pete ran The Crunchy Pickle, the deli that my mom took over. Like I told you, my mom is trying to change it into a healthy deli that serves soy salami and vegetarian bologna and other taste-free treats. But when Papa Pete was making the sandwiches, people said they were the best in town.

  “Who are you?” Zack said to Frankie, pointing a chocolate-covered finger right up at Frankie’s face.

  “I’m Frankie, little dude. Nice to meet you.”

  “What’s so nice about it?” Zack said.

  Ashley stepped up to help.

  “Nice to meet you is something you say when you meet a new friend,” she explained to Zack. “It’s good manners.”

  “I don’t have good manners,” Zack said.

  “Me, either,” Jake said.

  That was pretty obvious, so I thought maybe I should change the subject.

  “Hey, are you guys ready for a great magic show?” I said, giving them my best smile, the one where I show my top and bottom teeth.

  “I hate magic,” cried Jake.

  “Yeah, me, too,” screamed Zack.

  “It stinks,” said Jake.

  “Yeah, stinks,” added Zack.

  Zack gave me a swift kick in the leg. Jake bit me on the hand.

  That was my first clue that it was going to be a very long afternoon.

  CHAPTER 6

  MY AUNT MAXINE came running outside and threw her arms around my mom. She’s my mother’s younger sister. They both have curly blond hair that flies off in all directions, but at that moment, Aunt Maxine looked like she had stuck her finger in an electric socket. Her hair was standing straight up and her eyes were popping out of her head.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” she said, giving me a kiss on the head.

  “I’m sorry we’re so late, Max,” my mom said. “We had reptile problems.”

  “Who doesn’t?” my aunt said. I don’t think she even heard what my Mom said, otherwise she would have said something like, “ What happened? Did spotted frogs invade your dining room?” You don’t just ignore it when someone says they have reptile problems.

&nb
sp; “Aunt Maxine, I’d like to introduce you to Magik 3,” I said, pointing to Ashley and Frankie. “Plus one,” I added, when Robert stuck his face in front of her. “There’s no extra charge for him.”

  “Come inside quickly,” Aunt Maxine said. “We need entertainment! The kids are going crazy.”

  “How many are in there?” Frankie asked nervously.

  “Seventeen, but it feels like a hundred and nine,” Aunt Maxine answered. “They got into the M & M’s—the entire jumbo bag—and they’re pretty sugared up.”

  “Maybe we should raise our fee,” Ashley whispered.

  “It’s my family,” I whispered back. “We can’t ask for more.”

  We weren’t even inside the front door when we were pelted with M & M’s. Most of the kids were hiding behind the couches and chairs. Their parents were in the backyard, sipping coffee and trying to ignore the candy-chucking that was going on inside. A blue M & M hit me in the forehead.

  “Hey, you could put an eye out doing that!” I said. I couldn’t believe my own voice. That was something my mom said all the time, and here I was, saying those very same words. I was turning into my mom!

  “Kids! Kids!” Papa Pete called out. “Candy goes in your face, not on it.”

  “Cousin Hank and his friends have come all the way here to put on a magic show for you,” said Aunt Maxine. “Won’t that be fun?”

  The answer came in a hailstorm of M & M’s.

  Papa Pete whispered to us, “I think you better start the show right away. The audience is restless.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Not so fast, Zip,” said Frankie, grabbing my arm. “You better find the VCR first.”

  “I will,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Frankie looked at his watch.

  “The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo starts in ten minutes,” he said. “We have to set up the tape before we begin the show.”

  Ashley could hear the nervous tone in Frankie’s voice.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Frankie and I will set up for the show, and Hank, you find the VCR. Okay, Hank?”

  “No problem,” I said. I could see Frankie relax. Ashley Wong is a great stress buster.