Return of ZomBert

by Kara LaReau

  “But I’m not performing, my rats are!” Carl tried to explain.

  “You’ll be on display, too,” she said. “Besides, I don’t want you ruining your outfit. It took me forever to get that tailoring just right.”

  “Awwww,” Carl moaned as Mrs. Weems popped one of the Widdle Piggies into her mouth.

  “Break a leg, honey,” she said, before walking away with the plate.

  “What’s up?” Nina Chen said as she and Owen Brown joined us. They were both in our fourth-grade class, too.

  “I’m starving and my mom won’t let me eat anything until after the contest,” Carl grumbled. “That’s what’s up.”

  “Bummer,” said Owen. Something rustled in the birdcage he was holding; I couldn’t see what because there was a blanket over the whole thing.

  “Squawk!”

  “It’s okay, Mudge,” Owen said, patting the birdcage.

  “At least you could eat this food if your mom let you,” Nina said to Carl. “I have allergies, so my dad brought snacks for me. And by snacks I mean carrot and celery sticks. Blech.”

  “Is that a real cat?” Danny asked, peering into the carrier Nina was holding.

  “This is Felicity,” she said.

  “She’s beautiful,” Danny said.

  I had to admit, he was right. Felicity was all white, with long, silky fur and big blue eyes. Even Bert seemed mesmerized.

  “Does she do any tricks?” Carl asked.

  “Does she really have to?” Danny said.

  “Not really,” Nina said. “My dad says her superpower is that she throws up a lot of hairballs because her fur is so long and thick. Which reminds me, I really should go and brush her.”

  “I need to get Mudge his cuttlebone,” said Owen. He walked off, lugging the birdcage, the bird still rustling and squawking inside.

  “I should go and check on Chunk and Rizzo and Ratatouille,” Carl said. “See you later, losers.”

  “Ugh,” I said when Nina and Carl and Owen were all out of earshot.

  “What?” said Danny.

  “Nina’s cat is so beautiful, it could win just by sitting there,” I said. “And Carl has four rats. And who knows what Mudge can do?”

  “Yeah, but you have Bert,” Danny reminded me. “You’re always talking about how special he is. You two know these tricks forward and backward. In my opinion, there’s no competition.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Danny took me by the shoulders and looked right at me.

  “Repeat after me: There is no competition,” he said.

  “There is no competition,” I said.

  “Mrow, mrow-ow,” said Bert.

  “Sometimes I feel like you really understand me,” I told Bert.

  He blinked at me. I blinked back.

  “I think we’re ready,” I said.

  I’m glad you don’t have to work at the festival today,” Roxanne Hurley said, squeezing Greg’s arm.

  “Me too,” said Greg. He felt guilty knowing that just hanging out with Roxanne was his work. He tried to make up for it: he won a big YummCo teddy bear at the ring toss, and he got her a YummCo Slusher and a plate of YummCo Super Cheezy Nachos, both in size HUGE. They may have been free, but that didn’t make them easier to carry.

  “Do you want to try these nachos, honey?” she asked.

  “They do look delicious,” he said. But just as he was about to grab a Super Cheezy chip, someone pulled on his other arm. It was Kari. She was wearing a headset and wielding her YummPad like she meant business, though Greg couldn’t think of a time when Kari didn’t mean business.

  “Hey,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Is this one of your colleagues from work, Greg?” Roxanne asked.

  “This is Kari,” Greg explained.

  “Kari?” Roxanne repeated. She raised her eyebrows. “I’m Roxanne. Greg has told me so much about you.”

  “I hope not,” Kari said, ignoring Roxanne’s outstretched hand. She looked at Greg. “We need to talk. Now.”

  “Looks like something has come up,” Greg said to Roxanne. “Save some nachos for me?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “So, what’s wrong?” he asked Kari when they were finally alone.

  “What isn’t wrong?” she said. “I mean, look at everyone, enjoying all the free games and rides and gorging themselves on all this free food. You have no idea how much money we’re wasting on all this.”

  “But this Harvest Festival isn’t about making a profit,” Greg reminded her. “The Big Boss said that it’s about getting Y-91 back and giving something special to Lambert. I actually think it’s sweet.”

  “Sweet?” Kari repeated, narrowing her eyes. “That’s the last word I’d use to describe the Big Boss.”

  Just then, the YummCo jingle stopped playing over the sound system. A high-pitched squeal filled the air as someone turned on the microphone at the main stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” a voice said. “Are you ready to find out who the Best Pet in Lambert is?”

  The crowd cheered, wearing their YummCo baseball hats, waving their YummCo pennants, the children holding their green and brown balloons, drinking their slushers, and eating their nachos and pizza pouches and pigs in blankets and corn dogs.

  “Look, everyone’s having a blast,” Greg said. “Try to enjoy yourself, too. You put a lot of work into this day.”

  Kari almost smiled. Greg was the only one who noticed her efforts — why did he have to be so nice? Somehow that made him even more annoying.

  She adjusted her headset and told the stage manager to double-check the microphone levels. Then she glared at Greg.

  “We’re not here to enjoy ourselves. We have a job to do,” Kari reminded him. “Come on. The big event’s about to start.”

  Hello, Lambert! Are you ready to bring the fun-co?” Mr. Yumm yelled. I grimaced at the screech of feedback from the microphone. Nina covered her ears. The rest of the crowd went wild.

  “YummCo! YummCo! YummCo!” they chanted. A little boy on his father’s shoulders waved a big green foam thumbs-up. Mr. Yumm noticed it in the crowd and gave everyone a real thumbs-up, his trademark. The crowd went even wilder.

  “I want to introduce you to the most beautiful little lady in the YummCo family, the one who brings the joy and the fun-co to my life every day,” the CEO said, extending an arm to the other side of the stage. Out walked Mr. Yumm’s daughter, Yolanda. In her arms was a tiny, fluffy brown dog wearing a green-and-brown striped collar.

  “Arf-arf!” the dog yapped.

  “Oh, did you think I was talking about my daughter?” Mr. Yumm said, grinning as he kissed Yolanda on the cheek and took the dog from her. “Yolanda is just great, as you all know. But of course, I meant the newest addition to the YummCo family — my dog, Yummikins!”

  “Aw, isn’t it cute?” Nina said from where we were all standing offstage.

  “It looks like a shih-poo,” Carl said.

  “It sure does,” said Danny, holding his nose.

  “A shih-poo is a cross between a shih tzu and a toy poodle,” Carl said. “My parents were going to get me a dog before I found my rats at YummCo Animal Pals.”

  “You chose rats over a dog?” Danny said. “I’d love to have a dog, but our landlord doesn’t allow any pets.”

  “Wait, doesn’t YummCo own your building?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Danny said, rolling his eyes.

  “Rats are smart,” Carl reminded us. “Plus, you don’t have to get up every morning to walk them.”

  He had a point. But I was too busy watching Yolanda. She was so amazing, helping her dad run YummCo and running her lifestyle blog, Yumm Life. Not to mention she somehow managed to get her hair so shiny and perfectly styled.

  Yolanda leaned into the microphone. “Oh, Dad!” she said, rolling her eyes playfully and laughing. Even her teeth were perfect.

  “It’s time we started the big contest,” Mr. Yumm said. �
��I’d give the award to Yummikins, but I’m told that would be nepotism!”

  Everyone in the crowd started laughing.

  “What’s nepotism?” Nina asked.

  “It’s when you give a job to someone just because they’re family,” Danny explained.

  “Kinda like Mr. Yumm letting Yolanda help him run YummCo?” asked Owen.

  “Yolanda is more than qualified,” I said. “She went to YummCo University, after all.”

  “Let’s get the first contestant up here,” Mr. Yumm announced. Yolanda handed him a clipboard. “Looks like that would be Owen Brown and his pet budgie, Mudge!”

  “Here goes nothing,” Owen said, taking a deep breath.

  He brought the birdcage out onto the stage and removed the blanket over it. Inside was a small blue bird. The bird shifted from one end of its perch to the other and cocked its head.

  “What would you like to say to Mr. Yumm, Mudge?” Owen asked.

  “YummCo brings the fun-co!” the bird squawked. “YummCo brings the fun-co!”

  “Wow. A talking pet?” Danny said. He looked at me. “Forget what I said before. You do have competition.”

  “Thanks a lot,” I said. “I already knew that — I just didn’t know how much.”

  After the applause finally died down, Nina and Felicity went next. Nina stood with her legs about a foot apart, and Felicity darted in and out between them. Then she rolled on the floor and played dead when Nina pointed at her. The crowd oohed and aahed.

  An elderly couple went next, with their pair of Yorkies, Sven and Gwen, who were supposed to jump through hoops. Gwen made a pretty good effort, but Sven seemed more interested in licking himself.

  And then it was Carl’s turn. The crowd just about gave him a standing ovation for the suit his mom made for him. Mr. Yumm seemed particularly impressed.

  “Looks like our lab’s cloning experiment was a success,” Mr. Yumm said, wiggling his eyebrows. Everyone in the crowd laughed.

  Carl took a little silver whistle out of his jacket pocket. He opened the cage at one end of the stage and stood at the other end. When he blew into the whistle, no sound seemed to come out. But all four of his rats scampered across the stage toward him and leaped onto his shoulders.

  “Do you think it’s a dog whistle?” Danny asked. I shrugged.

  One by one, the rats performed different tricks. They played fetch. They jumped through hoops. They took turns shaking Carl’s hand. And then they all faced the audience and waved. If Bert and I weren’t competing against them, I’d be pretty impressed. Instead, I was panicking. How were we ever going to win now?

  Bert must have been thinking the same thing because he started pulling against the leash. I scratched him behind his good ear.

  “Everything’s okay,” I told him. “Don’t worry, stage fright is totally normal.”

  “Finally, we have Mellie Gore and her cat, Bert!” Mr. Yumm read off the clipboard.

  “Go win one for the weirdos,” Danny said, clapping me on the shoulder.

  I was ready, but Bert still seemed nervous. He wouldn’t let me lead him up the stairs by his leash, so I ended up having to carry him.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “We’ve got this.”

  “What an . . . interesting-looking animal,” Yolanda said when we got to the stage. She leaned down to pet Bert.

  “That’s probably not a good idea. He’s . . . a little nervous,” I said.

  “Well, what sort of fun-co are you two going to bring to us today?” Mr. Yumm asked.

  “Bert is going to do some tricks,” I said.

  I was about to set up the toy YummCo truck and the jewelry box on the stage when Bert looked up at the Yumms, then out at the audience. Then he puffed up his fur until he was about twice his normal size and started hissing.

  “Impressive,” said Mr. Yumm. He made notes on his clipboard. Yolanda did, too.

  “That’s not the —” I started to say, but then Bert started growling and straining at his leash harder than ever. Over in the wings, I saw Felicity jump into Nina’s arms. Everyone in the crowd seemed to take a step back. Even Yummikins looked a little bit freaked out.

  “Come on, Bert,” I said. I put the YummCo sticker on my hand and held it out. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  And that’s when he went totally crazy. He growled louder than I’d ever heard before, then leaped into the air and spun around like he was looking for a way to escape. I was still holding on to the leash, so he ended up landing on me, his front claws digging into my arm.

  “Whoa!” I cried.

  “Now that was a performance,” Mr. Yumm said into the microphone. “And Halloween isn’t until next week!”

  “Let’s hear it for Mellie and Bert, and all our wonderful contestants!” Yolanda added.

  “But we didn’t even . . .” I tried to explain, but Yolanda didn’t hear me. She was too focused on the crowd.

  “We’ll announce the winner in just a few moments!” she said.

  Then she started clapping, and the crowd followed suit. I took that as our cue to leave the stage, and so did Bert — he just about pulled me down the stairs and over to where Danny was standing.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I said. The whole thing had left me in a daze. I looked down at Bert and rubbed my arm where he’d scratched me. “He just . . . wasn’t himself up there.”

  “You can say that again,” Danny said. “He looks better now, though.”

  By this time, Bert had deflated back to normal. You’d never know he’d nearly attacked everyone onstage. I reached out my hand to touch him, and I could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  He thought he would be braver when he finally saw his nemesis. He remembered what his mother had said in his dream, that he should keep going. But his fear got the better of him.

  He felt bad for Mellie, who’d expected him to perform. And he’d never wanted to hurt her. But he didn’t expect all the people waving and shouting, the harsh lights, and the One, right there next to him.

  He remembered his time back at the Cold Place, the tests that made his eyes burn and his skin itch and his stomach tie up in knots. The tests that made him weak, so weak. The tests that took his sister away, then his brother. The Rough Hands, holding him down on the cold table. And the One, directing their cruel efforts.

  It was as if he had no control over himself when he was up there onstage. His mind had gone back to the Cold Place, and his body took over. He felt himself expand, his claws extend, a cry — of fear, of sadness, of anger — explode from his deepest self. And once it was over, he heard Mellie cry out, and then he saw her face. It was she who seemed afraid.

  Never again, he vowed, closing his eyes and willing his heart to beat more slowly. From now on, I must be in control.

  We brought you a Yumm Dog, Mellie,” Mom said, holding out a corn dog on a green stick.

  “No thanks,” I said. Even if I weren’t so upset, it still wouldn’t look appetizing.

  My mom took a bite. “It’s not bad, actually,” she said, offering it to my dad, who took a bite, too.

  “Mmm, tasty,” he said, swallowing. “We should definitely post a video about all this Harvest Festival food. YummCo would love that!” Then he turned to me. “You should feel good about this, sweetheart. You worked really hard — animals are just unpredictable.”

  I wanted to believe my dad. Bert could be unpredictable. But there was something about the way he was acting that felt really off. It reminded me of the time Danny and I tried to take Bert to YummCo Animal Pals; we were hoping to get him a checkup, but he’d freaked out before we’d even walked through the door. I remember Danny was super disappointed because the Yumms were there that day and he’d wanted to get a selfie with Mr. Yumm.

  “Think of it this way,” Danny said, snapping me out of my memory. “You were probably going to lose to Nina and Felicity or Owen a
nd Mudge or Chuck and his rats anyway. Or even that couple with Sven and Gwen. Gwen had potential.”

  “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” I said. I rubbed my arm and looked down at Bert, who was curled up on the grass, his eyes closed.

  Yolanda Yumm’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just tallied our votes, and we’re pleased to announce the winner of the first annual YummCo Best Pet Contest!”

  “Great,” I said, putting my head in my hands.

  “Ugh, the suspense is killing me,” my mom said. She took another bite of corn dog, then passed it back to my dad.

  “Everyone put your hands together for . . . Mellie Gore and her cat, Bert!”

  “What?” I said, looking up. Danny’s jaw dropped. My dad had just taken another bite of corn dog; he gulped loudly.

  “Maybe we heard it wrong,” Danny said, staring at the loudspeaker.

  “We couldn’t have all heard it wrong,” Dad said.

  “Honey,” my mom said, putting her hand on my back. “I think . . . you won?”

  “Mellie? Bert? Are you out there?” Yolanda called. “Come on up and get your big prize!”

  Somehow, I managed to get Bert back to the stage, though it seemed to take forever since he was hissing and straining at the leash again. When we got there, Yolanda handed me the check for two hundred dollars, and one of the YummCo employees struggled to put a brand-new YummCo collar on Bert. She was wearing special gloves to handle him, like the ones they had at the vet’s.

  “Be careful,” I said. “He really doesn’t like being onstage.”

  Finally, the assistant managed to clip the collar on him. “Really? He seems fine to me,” she said. She was right; Bert seemed super calm, though his eyes were wider than ever.

  A photographer ran up and aimed a camera at us. I could see my parents offstage, filming it all. I couldn’t believe it; Bert and I actually did it. Score one for the weirdos. But it didn’t really feel like a win; we didn’t perform well at all compared to all the other acts. What exactly did the Yumms see in us?