Dodger for Sale

by Jordan Sonnenblick

  It’s amazing what people don’t notice.

  The mayor started the meeting. He looked like he wanted to grab me and Lizzie and shake us, but of course he couldn’t do that in public. Instead he just told the crowd, “Thank you all for coming tonight. As you know, recently the parcel of vacant land behind our elementary school was sold by one private citizen to another. Even though we as a town believe that the government should try very hard not to interfere in private, legal business, some youngsters in this town feel otherwise.” He paused to glare at Lizzie and me, then continued. “These children have put together a little slide show in an attempt to show us why they feel the land should remain vacant. After the presentation, the city council will vote on whether the town should withhold the building permit that Mr. James Beeks, Senior, has requested for the property. Are there any questions?”

  Ooh, this was going to be good! We had picked some of the youngest members of the student council to ask the mayor several key questions. The first was a little kindergarten girl, who raised her hand and said, “Mister Mayor, I know they want to put a bunch of stores in where the woods are now. But I don’t understand something. There are lots of empty stores downtown. Why doesn’t Mr. Beeks just make his new stores out of the old ones?”

  The mayor looked annoyed, but said, “Well, young lady, Mr. Beeks can make the stores wherever he wants to. Wherever he builds them, they will create new jobs and prosperity for the good people of this town.”

  Then a first-grade boy asked, “But won’t the new stores take away jobs, too? My daddy owns a butcher shop on Main Street, and he said that every time a bunch of stores goes up away from the center of town, it forces more downtown stores out of business.”

  Another little girl stood up and said, “My mom said the same thing about her bookstore.”

  A second boy stood up and said, “And what about traffic near our school? Right now, even with the woods behind it, crossing the streets is dangerous. Won’t that get a lot worse if everybody is driving to the stores?”

  The mayor held up his hands. “All right, children, thank you for your excellent questions. Our town is quite lucky to have such intelligent young citizens. But now question time is over, and the presentation will begin.” I couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t actually answered the last few questions, though.

  Lizzie and I stepped up to the podium. Just as we had practiced a few days before, she gave a signal and the lights in the room dimmed. Lizzie took a deep breath, brought up the first slide, and began. The first several slides were photos and drawings of endangered local animals and their habitats. Lizzie went through the horrifying statistics on vanishing farmland and woodlands in our area, and explained how important it was to preserve the few remaining wooded areas within our town limits.

  Mrs. Starsky looked excited. The student council kids were leaning forward in their seats nervously. I snuck a glance over toward the mayor, who was making a big show of yawning. I smiled. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be yawning for long.

  Next Lizzie presented a whole bunch of information that the student council members had put together about downtowns, and how important it was to the health of a city to have a successful central business area. She also showed pictures of several other towns in our area that had allowed developers to knock down all of their surrounding woodlands and put in huge stores. The downtowns were all horrible looking: empty sidewalks and row after row of boarded-up storefronts.

  The mayor was still yawning, and one of the town council members was now doing a crossword puzzle.

  For the final part of her presentation, Lizzie showed a bunch of photos we had taken of beautiful scenes in the forest, with happy student council members posing everywhere. As we had hoped, all the parents in the audience made “Awwww …” sounds every time a new slide of their children popped up. Lizzie ended this part of the program with a statement and a question: “We hear all the time that we children are the future. Well, don’t we deserve a future that includes the beauty and magic of nature?”

  All of the kids (except for James Beeks) and parents clapped wildly, while Mr. Beeks, the mayor, and the town council members just kind of sat there. As soon as the applause died down, the mayor stood up and said, “Thank you, children, for that heartfelt and touching presentation. Now I believe it is time for the council to take a vote on Mr. Beeks’s permit application. Please know that we appreciate your participation and concern.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” I called out. “We’re not finished yet. We’ve prepared extra information in case there are any questions from the council. We also have an expert witness available, if time allows.”

  I could tell the mayor was immensely annoyed, but he said, “Very well. Do we have any questions from the council?”

  The member who had been working on the crossword said, “That was a lovely presentation. However, I do have something I want to ask you: Are any of those animals you showed us officially listed as endangered in our area?”

  Lizzie said, “Um, no. Not as far as I know, sir.”

  Then the same man asked, “And do you know for sure that each of those creatures actually lives on the specific piece of land that Mr. Beeks has purchased?”

  “Um, no, sir.”

  Another council member, a woman with a big old-fashioned curly hairdo and pointy eyeglasses said, “Well, then, if you can’t produce an actual example of an endangered species living in that particular area, I don’t see how we can hold up Mr. Beeks’s project.”

  I spoke up for the first time. “But we can. We were just waiting for our expert witness to present this part. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the world-famous wildlife expert, Dr. Rodger Chimpstone!”

  This was where the leprechauns’ magic became really important. They had used their illusion skills to make Rodger visible and human looking. He stepped forward amid polite applause and said, “The members of the student council first contacted me several weeks ago and asked me to investigate, look into, check out the status of the plant and animal life in the little forest we are discussing here today. As you have heard, there are many local species that need land like this to survive. However, I admit that we did not succeed in finding, locating, uncovering specimens of those animals here.”

  The mayor was smirking now.

  “We found something even better, even more amazing, spectacular, and precious in your very own forest. Ladies and gentlemen, we found the first known living specimen of that rarest of amphibians: the Large-Mouthed Blue Frog!” Rodger reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar-looking blue creature. The leprechauns had used their magic to turn Dodger back into a frog for the evening. At first, Dodger hadn’t wanted to go along with it, but then he had agreed—as long as we promised to give him some extra-juicy flies after the meeting.

  Every person in the room was leaning forward to get a better look at Dodger, the Large-Mouthed Blue Frog. We had prepared for this, too. Lizzie turned on the webcam built into the computer and projected Dodger onto the big screen. Rodger continued his speech.

  “This little fellow is unique, unmatched, alone in the world. He also has a distinctive cry and an incredible story.” That was Dodger’s cue.

  “Du-u-ude!” he croaked. “Du-u-ude!”

  Rodger said, “The Large-Mouthed Blue Frog is a faithful and loving creature. Because the species is so rare, the male will spend years and years hopping through the swamps, eating harmful and annoying insects and singing out with his mating call: Du-u-ude! Du-u-ude! He will carry on like this forever, or at least until he finds a female Large-Mouthed Blue Frog to be his lifelong companion, his love, his queen. Will you allow him to dream his patient dream of love and happiness, or will you chop down his home?”

  The crowd was absolutely speechless. In the silence that followed, the mayor said, “Why don’t we take a short recess break, and then come back to vote?” The lights came up around the room, and people started shuffling chairs around, going out of the roo
m for drinks, and chatting with their neighbors.

  Except for the kids. They all came rushing forward to play with Dodger. “Du-u-ude! Du-u-ude!” he cried happily. Dodger always loves attention.

  Meanwhile, Lizzie called the mayor over. He frowned but made his way across the front of the room to us. Mrs. Starsky must have sensed trouble brewing, because she came scurrying in our direction as well. “Sir,” Lizzie said to the mayor, “I would like to ask you to abstain from voting.”

  “Abstain? Why in the world would I abstain, little girl?”

  “Well, it’s just that … I don’t think you can possibly be a fair judge in this issue.”

  He put on his big, fake smile and said, “I can’t imagine what you’re talking about. I love the environment as much as anybody, and—”

  “No, you don’t!” Lizzie said under her breath. It was time for the fireworks to start.

  “Excuse me, young lady. Did you just interrupt me? And did you dare to stand here and claim that I do not love the environment?”

  Lizzie stood her ground. “I did. Because you don’t!”

  “That’s a lie!” the mayor growled.

  “Really?” Lizzie asked. Then she turned off the projector screen, faced the screen of the computer in the mayor’s direction, opened up the video from his visit to our school, and pressed PLAY. Boy, the mayor didn’t look very attractive when he was ranting and raving in close-up: “I came here because you wanted to save the forest and preserve the environment. Well, you know what? Nobody elected me to protect a bunch of trees! I couldn’t care less about the environment! If it would help the most prominent citizens of this town to make money, I’d go out there and chop down those stupid trees myself!”

  Jeepers. The mayor leaned toward Lizzie and hissed, “This is blackmail, and I won’t stand for it! Give me that computer!”

  “Not so fast,” Mrs. Starsky said, stepping between the mayor and Lizzie. “That computer and everything on it is school property. And if Lizzie wants to, I think she could show that clip to the whole audience after the break. After all, you said it on public property, in a public meeting. Surely you aren’t trying to say that showing these words to the public would be blackmail?”

  The mayor stormed away, but when the meeting started again, he excused himself from voting. There was only one other thing to say before the vote was cast, and it was my job to say it. “Excuse me,” I said, “I have a proposal that I think the council should hear before voting.” I had come up with this part all by myself after reading my father’s Step Eight: Make a Win-Win Plan. At first, I hadn’t been sure exactly what making a win-win plan was, but then I had realized it was exactly what I had done when I’d negotiated with my mom for the right to go downtown to Lasorda’s office. And again when we had worked together with the leprechauns. How cool was that? I was learning how to get what I wanted, and make other people happy, too!

  Anyway, I took a deep breath and began.

  “I have thought really hard about this, and I believe there might be a way to make everybody happy. The seller of the land, Mr. Lasorda, wants money to pay off his debts. The buyer, Mr. Beeks, wants a place to open up his funplex, which sounds like an excellent project. The town wants jobs for its citizens. And the student council wants to preserve the forest lands for our future. Am I correct?”

  I looked up from my paper and saw nods all around. Of course, my win-win plan went even further. I had an idea for how the Great Lasorda and Dodger could work things out with each other and the leprechauns, too, but I wasn’t about to announce that part at a town council meeting. First I had to save the forest.

  “Now, it has come to my attention that the town owns a whole square block of abandoned storefront real estate right on Main Street. What I propose is this: Why can’t Mr. Beeks pay Mr. Lasorda for the forest, but then swap pieces of land with the town and build his project in the downtown location? That will be great for business AND great for the environment. Mr. Lasorda will get paid, Mr. Beeks will get a place to build his businesses, the town will get a newer, better Main Street, and the forest will be saved for the Large-Mouthed Blue Frog. What do you think?”

  The entire room erupted in muttering. I heard shouts from all over the room:

  “Outrageous!”

  “Who does this kid think he is?”

  “Excellent! I think this boy should be our next mayor!”

  “Up with frogs!”

  Right in front of me, I saw James Beeks say to his father, “Dad, I hate to say it, but I think Willie’s idea is really good!”

  Then Mr. Beeks whispered back, “You don’t understand—Beeks, Beeks, Beeks, and Son never backs down. And we never lose!”

  James replied, “It isn’t losing if everybody winds up happy. It’s just good business.” Mr. Beeks looked stunned for a moment, but then—slowly, slowly—he smiled at his son.

  When the noise died down, the president of the town council asked Mr. Beeks if he would be satisfied with the new arrangement. I held my breath, but after a moment, Mr. Beeks nodded. The members of the council whispered to each other frantically for a while, but then announced that they would now vote on my proposal.

  I never would have believed it before, but politics can be kind of exciting.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Beeks, Beeks, Beeks, and Son Blue Frog Preserve

  LET ME TELL YOU how things turned out. The vote passed. The leprechauns turned Dodger back into himself, so Lizzie didn’t even have to kiss him to break the frog spell. Beeks, Beeks, Beeks, and Son traded the forest to the town in exchange for the square block of valuable downtown real estate. The town promised to leave the forest undeveloped forever, and named the area the Beeks, Beeks, Beeks, and Son Blue Frog Preserve. The Great Lasorda got to keep the money he got for selling the forest. The leprechauns got a free, safe place to live. The student council got a huge blue plaque from the mayor and the town council. Mrs. Starsky was really, really proud. I have a feeling she didn’t erase the webcam recording, though—just in case.

  And that’s not all. Amy got to keep her title as Queen of the Leprechauns. That might not seem like much, but it comes with some cool benefits. Here’s the best one: Every once in a while, when Amy runs a little short on cash, she leaves a pair of shoes under her bed. And I’m not going to tell you that the leprechauns fill her shoes with fairy gold or anything—that would just be too crazy. But all I know is that I have the only little sister in town who can afford her own state-of-the-art detective lab. Plus some pocket money for ice cream.

  The Great Lasorda is doing all right, too. He argued and complained a lot about having to share his forest with the leprechauns for all eternity, but really, I think that ever since everybody stopped arguing about who owes what, he and his new partners, Rodger and Dodger, enjoy the company.

  Speaking of company, one day in early spring, I was walking home alone through the forest, and suddenly found that James Beeks was walking along next to me. “You know,” he said, “I guess you and Lizzie were right: The woods are kind of cool after all.” There was a red-and-white fast-food bag blocking the path in front of us, and Beeks started to step around it. Then he looked at me sheepishly, bent over, and picked up the bag. “Still,” he said, “having my own private place to practice baseball would have been awesome.”

  That was when I got a crazy idea. It was nutty to even think about, because Beeks and I had always been enemies. But on the other hand, he had kind of helped us to save the forest. And he had admitted Lizzie and I were right about something. And he had even picked up trash in the woods without being ordered to. Before I could think twice, I said, “You know, James, I know a field where we can practice baseball all we want.”

  He looked at me like I had suddenly grown a pair of bug antennae from my head. “You mean, together?”

  I nodded.

  “Really?”

  I nodded again.

  He thought this over and said, “Is the field any good?”

 
; I didn’t reply, because I didn’t have to. I just turned down the little side path that led to the Field of Dreams. James might have muttered a little under his breath, but he followed me. When we broke out of the trees and into the clearing, he looked around in awe. “How—” he started to ask.

  “It’s a really long story, James.”

  Beeks rubbed his eyes, looked around again, and said, “And this is really all yours?”

  “And yours, whenever you need a place to work out. I mean, if you want to. We could get ready for the season together.”

  “I guess I can give it a try,” James said. “But, um, does this mean we’re, like, friends?”

  “Believe me,” I said, “stranger things have been known to happen.” With that, I walked over to the equipment locker behind the backstop and threw him a glove. He caught it and smiled.

  Lizzie and I are still best friends, of course. She’s trying to convince me to run for president of the sixth grade when we get to middle school. I tell her we’ll see what happens. But she knows as well as I do that I’ll probably give in.

  My dad is still waiting for my book notes about the quest to save the forest. I told him I’m still polishing them up, but that I’ll let him know when they’re ready for the world to read them.

  Yeah, right.

  In the meantime, if you aren’t sure you believe me about all of this, you can come visit the Beeks, Beeks, Beeks, and Son Blue Frog Preserve. If you’re brave enough, and your heart is pure enough, you can start picking up any pieces of litter you see there. Then, if you listen very, very carefully, you might just be lucky enough to hear the strange sound of the blue frog calling out to his missing queen: Du-u-ude! Du-u-ude!