Barfing in the Backseat (9 page)

“Unfortunately,” he began, and I bit my lip hard. I hate sentences that begin with “unfortunately.”

“What’d he say?” Frankie whispered, but I held my hand up to signal him to be quiet. I had to concentrate really hard so I could understand Mr. Chapeau’s accent.

“Unfortunately, I had an elevator emergency yesterday afternoon,” he said. “Some of our
guests got stuck between the seventh and eighth floor, and I couldn’t leave them. By the time we got them to safety, the post office had closed, so I was only able to send your packet this morning. I’m sure you’ll agree I made the right decision.”

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I didn’t want those people stuck in the elevator, running out of oxygen and screaming for help and water and crackers with cheese and everything like that. But the truth was, I
really really really
needed that homework packet.

“Don’t worry, my
petit
, my little one,” Mr. Chapeau said. “It will arrive safely tomorrow. Have yourself a nice chocolate mousse and relax.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I said to Mr. Chapeau, and snapped the phone shut with a little sigh of relief.

“Well?” Frankie said.

“Problem solved, Frankie my boy. The packet will be here tomorrow morning.”

“There is only one problem left, Zip. We won’t be.”

What was wrong with me? Of course we
weren’t going to be there. Had my brain gone on its own road trip?

The problem wasn’t solved at all. It was right there, as big as it ever was.

There was a knock on our door, and my father’s voice shouted in.

“Get ready, boys. I want to be on the road right after we tour the farm.”

I sighed the biggest sigh on the entire eastern coast. How do I always manage to get myself into this kind of trouble? I thought I was just tossing the packet under the bed temporarily. I didn’t mean to leave it there. I never remember anything until it’s too late and I’m in big-time trouble.

“You’re going to have to tell your dad, Zip,” Frankie said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “We really tried, and we did everything we could. But the game is up.”

He was right, I knew it. But the thought of telling my dad that I had messed up once again made all the blood rush out of my head. And besides, I
really really really
wanted to go to Colossus Coaster Kingdom.

All of a sudden, we heard a loud, piercing
shriek coming from my parents’ room. It was Emily. And this was no normal “I think I saw a cockroach” shriek. This was a number fourteen on the Scream-O-Meter.

Frankie and I went running to my parents’ room. Something was very wrong.

E
MILY WAS STANDING
in the middle of the room, pointing and screaming. We followed her finger with our eyes and saw Katherine in her crate. She wasn’t moving except for her front paw, or whatever you call the front leg of a reptile. That leg was spinning like she was riding a bike. All her other legs were motionless, except this one that was going berserk.

“Something is wrong with Katherine,” Emily was screaming.

“You’re just figuring that out?” I said. “Something is always wrong with her. For starters, she’s ugly.”

“Ease up, dude,” Frankie said to me. “The girl is upset.”

“Look at Kathy’s leg,” Emily sobbed. “It’s twitching.”

“Actually, it doesn’t looking like twitching
to me. It’s more like spinning.”

“Hank, this is no time for a vocab discussion,” she cried. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know. Wait and see if it stops.”

“I think this is something serious,” Emily said. “I’m worried sick.”

“Maybe she was stung by a bee,” Frankie said. “I mean, we are in the middle of thousands of them.”

“Oh no,” Emily said, starting to sob again. “And she’s having an allergic reaction. Like Vivian Bell did in third grade.”

“I remember that,” I said. “Her lip blew up like one of those air mattresses you see on TV.”

“Yeah, dude, I thought it was going to explode,” Frankie said.

“Do you think that could happen to Katherine?” Emily asked, her voice shaking now.

“I can only hope.”

As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I felt bad. I mean, I’m not a big Katherine fan, but I don’t want her exploding.

“Sorry, Emily,” I said. “I really am. Those words just flew out of my mouth before my
brain could put on the brakes.”

Just then, my parents came running through the open door.

“What’s wrong?” my mom asked.

“We think Katherine might have gotten stung by a bee,” I said, filling in for Emily, who couldn’t answer because she had thrown herself onto the rug with her face buried in her arms.

“She’s going to explode,” Emily said through her tears. “Mom, what if she explodes?”

My mom bent down to comfort Emily, and my dad went and checked out Katherine, or as I now was calling her, Katherine the Claw-Spinning Lizard.

“She does look strange,” my dad said. “There’s definitely agitation in the right front quadrant.”

Emily let out another squeak.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” my mom told Emily. “We’ll find a good doctor for her.”

“Frankie and I will go ask Jimmy Jim for a vet,” I said, and we were out the door before I even finished the sentence.

As we ran to the office, Frankie whispered, “Hey, Zip, this is not bad for us.”

“You’re telling me,” I said, having already had the same thought. “If the vet has a nice long wait in his office, we just might not be able to leave here today. And wouldn’t that be a shame—packet-wise.”

“Let’s hope the waiting room is full,” Frankie said. “And the vet is really old and slow.”

Lucky for us, he was. Dr. Dexter Phillips was easily a hundred years old, but he had the kindest eyes. You could tell he was a guy who loved animals. He even smiled at Katherine when we brought her into the waiting room of his vet clinic—which, I’m happy to report, was
full
of local Virginia people holding dogs and cats and ducks and chickens. There was even a piglet on a leash that was the cutest little guy you’ve ever seen. He ran and hid between his owner’s legs when he caught sight of Katherine.

“I know how you feel, pal,” I said to him, and Emily shot me a dirty look.

While Katherine, Emily, and my mom went into the doctor’s office, Frankie, my dad, and I waited outside on the front porch.

“This is a good time for you to bring ‘it’ up,” Frankie whispered to me, while my dad read
the
Horse Quarterly
magazine that was on the wicker table in between the rocking chairs. He was probably looking for info for his crossword puzzle clues.

“I’m going in,” I told him. I walked slowly up to my dad, and flopped down in the rocking chair next to him.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Dad? If you want to keep reading, I’ll come back later.”

“No, what is it, Hank?” he asked.

“I was thinking about Mom and honey,” I began. “You know how she loves it so much, and how she was really looking forward to learning all about the different flavors like sage and orange and stuff?”

“Get to the point, Hank,” my dad said. I guess he really wanted to get back to that article he was reading on the average length of horse teeth in America.

“Because of Katherine’s health issues, Mom never got to take the tour of the honey farm, and I feel really bad about that. And so does Frankie, don’t you, Frankie?”

“Down deep bad, dude,” Frankie said. What a pal he is.

“We won’t be able to take the tour,” my dad said. “Katherine’s doctor visit is costing us a day, and we’re behind schedule.”

“My point exactly, Dad. Since we’re already here, I think we should stay another day at Buzz Haven and give Mom that opportunity she was so looking forward to.”

“If we stay an extra day here, it means we’d have to skip going to Chapel Hill to see the University of North Carolina basketball courts—which was Frankie’s choice.”

I turned to Frankie. I couldn’t ask him to give up his choice, too. I mean, going to see where Michael Jordan played was half the reason he came on this trip.

Frankie was just standing there on the porch. His hands were clenched in fists, his shoulders tense. His eyes looked up at the sky and he took a deep, deep breath.

“I don’t really have to see where Michael Jordan played,” he said. “I mean, a basketball court is a basketball court, right?”

“Frankie, you would give that up?” my dad asked.

“For Mrs. Z.?” Frankie said. “Are you kidding?
She’s like my second mom.”

“That’s really nice of you, Frankie,” my dad said.

“Unbelievably nice,” I said.

“If you boys don’t mind,” my dad said, “then we will stay. Randi is going to love this. I think I’ll go tell her the good news.”

My dad tossed down his magazine and went inside.

“You owe me big-time, Hankster,” Frankie said.

“Don’t I know it,” I answered.

Two minutes later, Emily appeared on the porch with a huge smile on her face.

“Great news,” she said. “Kathy’s going to be fine. She got a raisin stuck in between her claws, and she was just trying to shake it loose. Isn’t she a clever girl?”

This time I had to agree. That Katherine was a clever girl. I mean, how many iguanas do you know who can save you from being grounded for the rest of your life?

Kathy and her raisin claw were my new best friends.

After we returned from the vet’s office and
got Katherine all settled down for a nap, we all went for an afternoon tour of Jimmy Jim’s honey farm. I learned more about bees than I would ever want to know. For instance, did you know that the average temperature inside a beehive is 93.5 degrees Fahrenheit? And that a bee visits up to one thousand flowers a day to gather pollen to make honey? And that bees fly at about fifteen miles per hour? I didn’t know that either, but now we both do.

After the beehive tour, we went to dinner in the Honey Pot, which is the dining room in the main house. Most of the conversation at dinner consisted of my dad asking me detailed questions about how I was progressing on my homework packet, and reminding me that if it wasn’t finished, I wasn’t going on the roller coasters.

I felt bad because I didn’t want to lie to him, but I couldn’t really tell him the truth, either. We were about two days past me being able to tell the truth. So I came up with answers to his questions that weren’t exactly lies. Like I said, “That homework packet is presenting some really interesting challenges, Dad.” Which it was. And,
“I’ll answer that as soon as I get back from the bathroom.” Which I didn’t. Or, “My homework packet is just like this honey fried chicken…full of flavor and easy to digest.” I thought that one was especially clever.

After dinner, Frankie and I started to yawn like sleepy puppies and claimed to be really tired from the stress of Katherine’s almost-illness. As soon as we could, we hurried to our room. We told my parents we wanted to get to bed early, but really, it was an excuse to get away from my dad’s questions. Even Hank Zipzer eventually runs out of fake answers.

I barely slept, which was good because I was up first thing the next morning. By eight o’clock, I was circling the front desk waiting for the mail delivery. I must have asked Jimmy Jim when the mail was coming at least a thousand times. And when the mail delivery guy finally showed up and pulled that packet out of his bag, I pounced on it like a starving mouse on Swiss cheese. I mean, I clutched it to my chest and hugged it like a long-lost friend. I’m a little embarrassed to tell you, but I think I might have actually kissed it.

“You must really love your dad, to care so much about his birthday present,” Jimmy Jim said. “Just give me a hint what’s inside there.”

“It’s made out of paper,” I said. “And it’s something I’ve got to finish.”

“Oh, a handmade gift,” Jimmy Jim said. “Those are the best kind. One year, I made Honey a bee out of saltwater taffy. Brought tears to her eyes, it did.”

Jimmy Jim gave my back a nice, firm slap. I know it was supposed to be a sign of affection, but it hurt like crazy. That dude had some strong hands. I flashed him a big smile, trying not to say ouch, and turned to go back to my room with the packet. I hadn’t even finished my pivot when my dad appeared at the office door.

“Dad!” I said. “Wow, this is a surprise.”

“I came to pay our bill so we can get a nice early start,” he said. “I want to be all settled in Charlotte by the afternoon. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“Don’t we all know that,” Jimmy Jim grinned. My dad gave him an odd look, as if to say, “How do you know about the Crossword
Puzzle Tournament?”

“A special day for someone very special,” Jimmy Jim went on. I had to stop him before he blew the whole thing wide open. I signaled him to cut the chatter, and he flashed me a knowing wink. I shoved the homework packet underneath my Mets sweatshirt and got out of there.

The strangeness got a little stranger a few minutes later when we were piling our luggage in the car. Jimmy Jim came out of the office to help my dad arrange our suitcases in the back. As soon as the trunk was closed, he turned to my dad, slapped him on the back, and shook his hand like a water pump.

“Many happy returns of the day,” he blurted.