Elvis and the Underdogs (15 page)

“Did you come back to the hospital after book club?”

“What?”

“Did you come back and check on me after book club and not tell me?”

“How do you know that?”

“It doesn't matter how I know, I just want to know if it's true.”

“Benji, you're my baby and—”

“Mom, I'm not your—”

“Don't interrupt me. You are my baby, because you're my last child. And even though you're not allowed to ever talk about this again, I want to tell you something. You were really sick a lot when you were young. Really sick, and honestly, it scared me, because I don't know what I would have done if you didn't get better. So you were sick in the NICU and they wouldn't let me stay in there all night, and sometimes, when I couldn't sleep at night because I wasn't with you, I'd drive to the hospital and just sit outside in the parking lot, so that if you needed me, I'd be close by. It's a mother's job to be close by in case her kids need her. So here I am.”

I didn't really know what to say to that. I had never heard my mother talk to me about myself like that before. She almost seemed like she was going to cry. I was more than a little freaked out.

“I should go back to class now.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Benji ba—I love you too, Benji.”

“And don't forget I'm going to be eleven in seven months, which is only two years away from being a teenager.”

“I know.”

“And thanks for letting me get a dog.”

“You're welcome.”

Getting an awesome note in
class has its pros and cons. The pros are it makes you feel special, it's cool to have a secret, and it gives you something to think about besides whatever is being taught in class. The con is that it puts you under a great deal of stress to write back a note as good as you received. As this was the very first note that I'd ever received in class, I didn't have experience on how to write a response, and since this response was going to be the very first note that I ever wrote in class in my whole entire life, I felt like it had to be perfect, because I was going to remember it for the rest of my life. Or I'd remember it at least for a while.

So during the rest of math I couldn't concentrate. I kept thinking of what would make the coolest opening to my note.
Dear Taisy
? Nah, too boring.
Dearest Taisy
? No way, too girlie, and it sounded like those black-and-white movies my mom sometimes watches.
Yo, Taisy
? That sounded cooler, but it didn't sound like me at all.
Yo-Yo, Taisy
? No, that sounded like I was calling her a yo-yo, and what if she asked if I could yo-yo, and then I'd have to admit that I was not a good yo-yo-er at all? I suppose I could also try just Taisy, T, T-dawg, T-bird, or T.M. (Elvis suggested T-bone, but that's because he's a dog and was just thinking about steak. Note to self: Never ask a dog's opinion when he's hungry.)
Hey, Tais
? Oh, that sounded good. Casual, yet cool. Friendly, but not overeager.

After much agonizing, that's exactly what I ended up with,
Dear Taisy
. Now I had two words, a blank piece of paper, and a sweaty pencil. Eventually I decided to stop worrying so much, be myself, and hope for the best. Short and sweet. I mean, it's not like she was expecting Shakespeare. At least I hope she wasn't.

This is what I wrote:

My mom once bought me an origami kit during one of my hospital stays, so I know how to make a crane, a camera, a balloon that you can actually blow up, and a frog. I decided to use my skills on Taisy's note. I wished I knew how to fold the note into a flower, but that one was kinda complicated. I decided to fold it into a little frog, and when I finished, you could press the butt down with your finger and it would hop a little like a frog. After I was done folding it up, I wrote her name on its back. Now I just had to figure out how I was going to get it to her.

I whispered to Elvis to see if he had any ideas. Elvis said that he was not going to be an accomplice to bad behavior.

“Fine, if you don't want to have tea with Princess Daisy, then that's okay with me. I bet there'll be scones.”

I don't even know what a scone is, but I've heard my mom talk about them, and she says they're delicious. I figured since Elvis was Mr. Fancy-Pants, he probably knew all about tea and scones.

“Fine, but we'll do it before lunch. And speaking of, I hear if you actually pay attention in school, you might learn more.” I stuck my tongue out at him in response. What he didn't know was that before today, all I ever did in school was learn.

Right before lunch Elvis shoved his face in my face and licked me.

“Put the note in my mouth.”

“No, you'll get it all gross and wet.”

He licked his tongue dry on my pants. “Now do it. This is the driest my tongue gets.”

I placed the frog on his tongue and watched as he trotted over to the back of the class. He stopped behind Taisy's chair. She turned to pet him, and he must have opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, because I saw her look around quickly and grab the note. She then fawned all over Elvis, pressing her face into his black velvety cheek while also rubbing his furry nose at the same time. He clearly loved it. He wagged his tail so hard he whacked the globe right off the table behind him. Before anyone could react, the bell rang and everyone made a break for the door.

It didn't look like Taisy was ever going to stop petting Elvis. He was now lying on the floor on his back, and it was clear he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon either. I guess he felt like he deserved a big, long belly rub from a cute girl after his kidnapping save. I had no choice but to go over there.

“Uh, hey, Taisy.”

“Who's-d'-loving-belly-wub?Who's-d'-biggest-belly-in-da-whole-wide-world? Who's-d'-best-puppy-ever? You are, yes you are.” Taisy didn't even hear me.

It really was a hilarious sight to see her baby-talking like that, because you should see her on the basketball court. She's fierce, and even gives our PE teacher, Coach Connor, a run for his money when they play one-on-one basketball. I've never seen someone so competitive during PE. She wins every race, every basketball contest. When we did square dancing, she even found a way to be the best at that too.

“Hey, Taisy,” I said again.

Finally she turned and saw me, and I guess she realized she sounded pretty silly, because she gave me a shy smile. “Hey, Benj.”

I couldn't help it. I loved when she called me Benj! She said it like she'd known me her whole life and we had been best buddies forever, not just new acquaintances.

“So I see you really like dogs,” I said.

“I don't like dogs. I love dogs. And I've never met a dog so big before. He's like me. Big, strong, and supercute.”

Ms. Blaine walked over and joined the party. “Hey, guys, I hate to break this up, but you should head for lunch now. I've got to go get some coffee in the teachers' lounge.”

We nodded and walked to the door together. I swear Elvis was a little drunk from his belly rub. He was sorta woozy, and his tail was the highest I'd ever seen. When we got out into the hallway, Taisy threw her arms around Elvis again, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. Then she headed off to the cafeteria.

“Aren't you coming?” she asked, turning around.

Elvis walked toward her, but then stopped when he realized I had fallen silent. Behind Taisy, another ten feet up the hallway, I saw Billy Thompson. He was yelling at a kid I didn't recognize in the hallway. I automatically reached into my pocket for my lug nut, but of course it wasn't there. I swallowed uneasily.

“Uh, you go on ahead, Taisy. I gotta hit the little boys' room.” Oh great, now I'd just sounded like a six-year-old, but I couldn't worry about that now. I was too worried about making a run for it before Billy Thompson saw me.

Taisy nodded. “Bye, Elvis! Later, Benj!”

Elvis and I watched her go. I silently pleaded for her to hurry up and round the corner so I could take off in the other direction before Billy Thompson spotted me.

“It was her lip gloss,” said Elvis.

“What was?” I whispered.

“It was her lip gloss that smelled like strawberries. She's my new favorite person, after the president, of course, and my own mom. Her belly rubs are just extraordinary, and I think you should . . .”

Before he finished his sentence, I turned and speed-walked in the opposite direction. Then I felt someone grab the back of my shirt. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“Elvis, I really hope that's you.”

“Of course it is—who else would it be? Ralph Waldo Emerson?”

“Who?”

“Ralph Waldo Emerson, the poet? Oh, never mind. It's not important. Now, you're heading in the wrong direction for the lunchroom. C'mon, let's get some food. I'm starving. Belly rubs make me extra hungry.” Elvis lifted his nose in the air and took a whiff. “Chicken-fried steak and hot dogs, I think.” He started to walk back down the hall in the opposite direction. After a moment, he stopped and looked at me, because I hadn't moved.

“Uh, I don't usually eat lunch in the cafeteria.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I bring my lunch and eat in the library, with the librarian, Ms. Hensel.”

“You're not supposed to bring food into a library.”

“How do you know? You've never been in a library before.”

“I have too. During my extensive training, I was taken into a library in Nashville, and I saw lots of signs that said no food or drink. No one wants to borrow a book that is all sticky with food. C'mon, Benjamin, there are about ten chicken-fried steak patties with my name on them.”

“Relax, I brought you food too.”

“Is it warm and round and shaped like chicken-fried steak?”

“No. It's kibble and a bag of Doritos.”

“If it's all the same to you, I would much prefer to have chicken-fried steak.”

I stood there for a second longer, not knowing what to do. Well, there was no point to having any secrets, I thought, because it wasn't like he wouldn't eventually figure it out on his own.

“I don't eat in the cafeteria because I don't have anyone to sit with,” I confessed.

“You can sit anywhere in a cafeteria,” Elvis said. “That's the whole point of a democracy. You know, the whole it's-a-free-country thing. Don't tell me I'm going to have to start teaching you about American history.”

“I mean no one wants to sit with me. I don't have a pack here at school.” I decided to put it in dog language.

“Well, now you have me, so let's go eat together. C'mon, I'm certain the chicken-fried steak is going to run out before the hot dogs.”

“I don't know—Ms. Hensel, the librarian, might worry if I don't show up.”

“Benjamin, please stop this. You're a kid. You're in school, you're supposed to eat in the cafeteria with other kids. How are you going to create a pack if you hide and don't talk to anyone? You barely even spoke to Taisy, and she showed every sign of being quite friendly to you, and now that she clearly adores me, I'm sure that will only make your case stronger. Why can't you sit with her at lunch?”

“Are you kidding me? Taisy is the best athlete in this town. She may even break the twins' record for number of trophies earned in one year. She has a super-famous dad. She sits anywhere she wants. People usually beg her to sit with them at lunch. Plus she usually eats fast and then goes outside and practices basketball.”

“Benjamin. I'm not going to eat in the library. Maybe you can eat neatly enough to be allowed to do so, but I cannot. I'm a dog, I eat off the floor, and when I think about food, I produce a large quantity of saliva. It's a physiological response that is Pavlovian and is a long story that I can't get into right now, especially when I'm hungry. When I eat, we will need to have a large number of napkins.”

And with that he came up behind me and nudged me so I moved forward.

“Hey, don't push me,” I said.

“Please, that was the tiniest of nudges. Move. Now.” I hesitated, and Elvis asked me, “Is there something else that's the matter?”

“Well, I saw Billy Thompson over there, and usually when I see him, I walk in the other direction. It's called survival of the fittest.”

“Actually, that's not the right usage of that terminology. Survival of the fittest means—”