The New Kid, page 14
Zoe walked up and leaned very, very close to Nancy and said, “So … ha!”
Nancy sniffed the air. “Hmmmm,” she said. “Peppermint breath.” She smiled wryly at Carson. “Have the Spork Fairies been helping themselves to the Teenie Weenie Jelly Beanies and the Fresh Breath Refresherettes jailed in the June Box?”
“These items attract Nuisance Ants,” Chloe declared.
Nancy and Carson looked at each other. “What’s a Nuisance Ant?” Nancy asked him, and he shrugged.
“It’s a pest ant,” Zoe explained. “An ant that comes in from the wild and wreaks havoc in the June Box.
“It’s not an easy job, being ant wranglers,” Zoe continued. “But we have come to realize that even teensy ants are wildlife.”
“Wow. Now I’ve heard everything,” said Nancy.
“I guess you could think of us as Wild Ant Rescuers,” Zoe added. “Similar to Ms. Tapp, but without the blue jackets.”
“Unfortunately, mints sometimes fall out of the containers into our hands when we release ants from the containers into the wild. Of course, we’re forced to eat the mints because we’re supposed to eat the mints we touch. That’s the guideline.”
Nancy made a face. “Really? Okay. Now I understand. Anyway … I’m wondering about something else.…”
She took the sweatshirt from her shoulder and stuck the tag under Chloe’s nose. “Chloe D. Is that you?”
Chloe reached for the sweatshirt but Nancy stepped back. “Not so fast. There seems to be something way, way down in the pocket.” She closed one eye and peered into the pouch. “Were the ant wranglers also planning to release a green yo-yo into the wild?”
“Where did you find my sweatshirt?” said Chloe. “I left it on my hook last Friday. The next thing I know, you two walk in with it. Where was it? And you’ve been rifling through the pockets.” She tapped her foot. “Where did you get it from?”
Nancy was quiet. She looked over at Carson.
Carson admitted, “I took it.”
“You did?”
“Yes, I took it, and I hid it behind the book cart.”
Mr. Lipman strolled over. The girls began struggling with the hoodie. There was a brief tug-of-war, with Nancy pulling on one sleeve and Chloe holding the other. “What’s going on?”
Zoe reported: “Carson took Chloe’s sweatshirt and hid it behind the book cart!”
Mr. Lipman took Carson aside and quietly asked, “Did you?”
“Well …”
How would Carson explain this?
“Yes, I did.”
Mr. Lipman became very serious. “What’s going on?”
Carson shrugged.
“Why would you do something like that?”
Carson was forced to spill the beans. He quietly told Mr. Lipman that he did take Chloe’s hoodie and he did hide it in the corner behind the book cart, but it wasn’t on purpose. “I must have grabbed her sweatshirt off the hook thinking it was mine. Or maybe hers was hung on my hook. I’m not sure.”
Mr. Lipman said nothing.
“The hooks are right next to each other. I thought I was hiding my own hoodie, and I now don’t know where mine is.”
“But why would you hide your own hoodie behind a book cart, Carson? I don’t understand. Why would you hide anybody’s hoodie behind a book cart?”
Darn! Carson knew he would ask that question! “Well. I know it’s ridiculous to believe a lost stuffed mammal might bed down on it, but—”
Mr. Lipman said, “You don’t have to say any more. I get it. And you know what I suspect?”
“What?”
“I suspect your hoodie is in the bottom of the lost-and-found bin. More stuff gets lost in that bin and less stuff gets found there than anyplace else in the school. Go and look right now. Nancy? Please go with Carson. Immediately.”
He announced to the class: “This is a simple case of mistaken hoodie identity. There will be no further discussion. Everyone return to your seats. I don’t want to hear one more word about this.”
Chloe snatched her sweatshirt from Nancy.
Carson and Nancy prowled through the lost and found.
Yup, Carson’s hoodie was there, all right. He must have dropped it out in the yard or left it outside the classroom door.
And so was Nancy’s baseball mitt from last year!
She socked it a few times to get it back into shape. “Want to come over to my house and play catch sometime?”
“Sure.”
“When should we talk to Mr. Lipman about the yo-yo?” Carson asked.
Mr. Lipman was staring into the June Box when Carson and Nancy walked in. “Parks’s yo-yo has mysteriously reappeared!” he said.
Zoe exclaimed, “Magic. It’s magic!”
And Chloe said, “The fairies returned it!”
“No they didn’t and it isn’t Parks’s yo-yo and you know it,” Nancy said.
“And Weston Walker didn’t take it, either,” Carson added. “And you know that, too!” He looked at Mr. Lipman. “It was in Chloe’s sweatshirt pocket.”
He turned to the class. “I accidentally took Chloe’s sweatshirt to make a bed behind the book cart for my lost moose. And so what.” He sat down.
After sorting things out, Mr. Lipman erased Chloe’s and Zoe’s names from the Deputy List and wrote: Applications for the Deputy Dustbuster position now being accepted.
Wow. Maybe Wes could apply!
What a day.
And the hat incident really capped it off.
As Zoe and Chloe were sitting in the Blue Box at afternoon recess, Bob swooped down and grabbed the green pom-pom on Chloe’s beanie with his foot and yanked the beanie off her head and flew away with it.
26. HELLO,
Happy Birthday!
Carson’s dad rumbled up in the Porsche, on time as always.
“Bad news for Bob!” Carson announced as he opened the door.
“How so?”
“He snatched a hat and dropped it on the library roof.”
“Good grief, what an aggressive bird!”
“You can say that again.”
“Good grief, what an aggressive bird!”
“And even though Ms. Pierson conceded that the pom-pom may have looked like a pile of pesto from a crow’s perspective, it was unacceptable. When a crow makes physical contact with a person or their clothing, that’s where she draws the line, because birds are germy.”
“Ah.”
“So now Patrick and Ella are going to relocate Bob to Green Gulch Park, near the duck pond.”
“Ah.”
“Maybe you and I can go again for the release! And maybe can we buy Bob some Cheerios? I don’t think he can compete with the other crows, Dad. His tail feathers are damaged, and he’s lost a leg. They’re a bunch of bullies over there.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Think we could find another plastic great horned owl decoy with yellow glass eyeballs to sit beside him? He loves sitting by Ms. Pierson’s owl decoy in the oak tree at school. She’s his girlfriend! He’s gaga over her.”
“He is?”
“Yes! And that is how Patrick’s mom is going to catch him—lure him down with the decoy and then cover him with a net. Isn’t that a mean trick?”
“Kind of.”
“An old crow with a bent beak and broken feathers and a plastic owl. An odd couple. But he loves her, Dad. He never leaves her side.”
“You never mentioned he had a chipped beak.” He paused. “How badly chipped?”
Carson shrugged. “The kindergarten garden needs the owl back. It was a short-term loan.”
“Well, okay then. One beady-eyed owl decoy coming right up for the guy with the chipped beak. Where do we get such a thing?”
“Maybe at Shop Rite in the garden department.”
“Fine.”
“Dad?”
“What, son?”
“Wes was absent again today. I keep thinking that if he doesn’t get better, Dollie might have to find another home for Dandy.”
“It doesn’t work that way. If Dollie and Wes are unable to provide an adoptive home for Dandy, then they have to return him to the shelter, and the shelter places Dandy in another adoptive home according to their own strict guidelines for dog adoption.”
“Oh.”
Carson was quiet.
“Well, if they do have to give Dandy up, that would be sad, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would. Very sad and very hard.”
But Wes was tough—cut from the right stuff.
Whatever happened, Wes could suck it up. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a broken heart underneath it all.
Good thing Carson and his dad were number one on the shelter’s backup list. Actually, they were probably number one and only on the shelter’s backup list. Not that Dandy wasn’t adorable in his own way.
Carson hoped more than anything that Wes could overcome the allergy problem and keep Dandy. But if worst came to worst, Carson and his dad would step in.
Wes could visit with Dandy at Carson’s house, out on the porch with Genevieve, out in the fresh air.
Dandy would be a good play pal for Genevieve. Dandy might not like her at first, because she wasn’t a Chihuahua, but any dog who really got to know Genevieve would end up loving her.
And maybe when Wes came to visit Dandy, Carson could help him get over the rodent issue. He could introduce Wes to Bo.
Then maybe Wes would want to adopt one of Bo’s brothers or sisters.
If he did, he could bring his rat pup, and the rat pup and Bo could have a rat-pup playdate while Dandy and Genevieve romped on the lawn.
They sat down on the porch. “Thanks again for helping sponsor the Free-Range Roaming Rat Arena, Dad. And thanks for everything else. Thanks for your help during the morp, for volunteering to come to Career Day, and for volunteering to make pinch pots. Is that how you made my lopsided pencil jar? By pinching it?”
“Yes, it is.… I prefer to characterize it as asymmetrical and artful rather than lopsided, but yes.”
“Okay, good. Can we pinch other things besides artfully asymmetrical pencil holders?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Thanks, Dad. Don’t be surprised if Wes yells ‘Ouch!’ at the top of his lungs every time he pinches the clay.”
“I won’t.”
“Wes is a good guy. He’s just a loudmouth, that’s all.”
“I had an uncle Jim who was as big a loudmouth and as big a ham as Wes is. Uncle Jim was a great guy, too. I wish you could have met him.”
Carson’s dad grew quiet.
“Me too, Dad.”
Carson really did wish he had met Uncle Jim.
He didn’t have very many relatives.
Not that he knew of, anyway.
Carson’s family tree had only one branch.
He had another whole entire family tree he hadn’t seen yet, but that could wait.
Being adopted wasn’t that big of a deal for Carson. He already knew that if he wanted to, he and his dad could find out more about his birth parents, and they might look into that sometime down the road. But at least for now, the family he had was perfect.
He had two very grand grandparents.
And he had one wonderful dad.
And even if he met his birth parents, Carson would always have only one dad, one actual dad: the dad sitting beside him in a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, with his hair poking up on top of his head and a Labrador retriever sitting on his lap, panting in his face.
The best dad in the world.
“Dad?”
“What, son?”
“Let’s invite Wes on the birthday ride.”
“Wes? Are you serious?”
“I am. Wes and Dollie.”
“Will he behave himself?”
“No. But Dollie can give him the Stink Eye.”
“As he gallops away into a gulch? Why not Patrick and his mother?”
“Blackberry brambles and bees. Remember?”
“Right. Well, what about Nancy and her mom?”
“Would Nancy’s mom be willing to accompany Nancy on a sweaty horse that had clumps of muddy sod in its hooves, ate dusty hay, and had slime between its nostrils? A big, smelly beast that whisked flies away with its tail?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“She’s a surgeon!”
“So what. The trail doesn’t go through an operating room.”
“I know. But still. Wes already knows how to ride.”
“He does?”
“I think he’ll be a responsible horseback rider on the trail. He’s planning to be a rodeo clown. Plus, he rides horseback in the summertime at his aunt Boo and uncle Hunk’s quarter-horse farm in Cleveland.”
“A quarter-horse farm in Cleveland?”
“Yup.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.”
Wes wouldn’t lie about that.
In fact, as far as Carson could tell, Wes hadn’t lied to him about one single thing, not as far as Carson knew, anyway.
He had no way to verify the Bad-Breath Pellets, Bullets, or Bombs.
Everything else seemed to be on the up-and-up.
Wes was a loudmouth, like Uncle Jim.
Wes had welcomed Carson. Even if he fell on top of him. He had invited him to his birthday party; he’d just forgotten to mention which month. He had made sure Carson had a number on a tongue stick. He had offered to sign his bingo card.
Wes had shared his lunch with Carson. And Carson had returned the favor.
So what if half of the half a carne asada burrito and six buñuelos went down the hatch.
Wes didn’t share Carson’s enthusiasm for rats. However, he had seen lots to love in Dandy, a crotchety old growly critter not considered very adoptable.
He had defended Moose when Cody made the wisecrack.
Wes slept next to a pillow with a rubber fish sitting on it, and so he and Carson had common ground.
As for the raucous romping, Wes was just being Wes. He was good at making long shots into the trash and could sound like a truck downshifting and honking its horn. That had to count for something.
One day he’d be out there with his nose painted red, keeping some young bull rider from getting trampled by a fifteen-hundred-pound bull.
“Let’s you, me, Wes, Dollie, and the horse-face expert go on the trail ride. Deal?”
“Son?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“Loudmouth behavior like hollering, yelling, and shouting on a trail ride scares the horses.”
“Oh.”
“In other words, it’s dangerous.”
Carson was quiet.
“Okay, Dad. Then why don’t we just go fishing? Patrick and his mom, Wes and his grandma, Nancy and her mom, you and me. Then we can go on a trail ride this summer, when Case and Gavin come up for a visit.”
“Perfect.”
“Except for …” Carson didn’t need to finish the thought.
“Right. Well, Grandma and Grandpa will be coming up soon.”
Carson’s dad’s cell phone rang in his pocket, and he checked to see who was calling. He went inside to answer it.
Through the screen door, Carson could hear him talking. “It’s okay, Mom. Don’t get upset. We understand, yes, completely.”
He listened.
“And you know what? We feel the same way. Okay. Okay. Of course!”
He called, “Carson? Great news!”
He walked out and handed Carson the phone.
“Hello, sweetie! Grandma here.”
“Oh, hi, Grandma!”
“Grandpa and I can’t wait all the way till his vacation to see you, so we’re just plain flying up for your birthday weekend. He’s decided to take a couple of days off, the Friday before and the Monday after.”
“He is? Great!”
“Here. Grandpa wants to say hi.”
“Carson?”
“Hi, Grandpa.”
“I’d like to meet that Mr. Nibblenose fellow. That was quite a good trick he pulled.”
“Yup. A rat of many surprises. Can you bring up the croquet set?”
“On the plane?”
“I’m thinking maybe we can fish at the pond in the park and have a barbecue afterward and play croquet. Can you bring up your rod and tackle box?”
“Maybe so.”
“Don’t forget your fishing licenses.”
“Roger. See you soon. Over and out.”
“Over and out—no wait, Let me talk to Grandma again.”
Carson whistled quietly until his grandma came back to the phone.
“Grandma? Do you think you could make a lasagna to bring to my class? And garlic bread?”
“Of course. But what about the You Gotta Be Kidding Me! Chocolate Calamity Cake?”
“Not allowed in school.”
“You gotta be kidding me! No chocolate? What a calamity!”
“We can have it at the house, Grandma.”
“Okay. I’ll write Happy Birthday, Carson on top of the lasagna with melted mozzarella cheese for the school event.”
Carson loved teasing his grandma. “Do you mind sharing the guest room with a few cute rats?”
“Of course not! Do I have to have them in bed with me?”
“Yup.”
“All of them?”
“Yup.”
“How many is a few?”
“Fifteen small and one medium.”
“Fine.”
• • •
Carson and his dad strolled onto the grass, with Genevieve romping behind them.
“So, after we go fishing with Wes and Dollie and Patrick and his mom and Nancy and her mom and Grandma and Grandpa at the pond,” said Carson, “we’ll have Shelly, Oswaldo, and Luciana over for tri-tip and calamity cake and a baby-rat shower. Okay? Also Eva, Matthew, and Zach. And Sydney and the Sporks Fairies. Can we set up a volleyball net?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Good. We’ll play croquet, play volleyball, and play with the pups. Shall we make a Birthday Prize in Disguise Surprise for Mama Nibblenose?”
“Of course. Is it her birthday?”
“It could be.”
“Shall we make a birthday piñata out of a sock for her and fill it full of healthy treats?”
“Yes, most definitely.”
“If it’s warm, want to make her a wading pond with a paint-roller tray and put in frozen corn and peas so she can fish for ’em?”
