Philip and the Loser (9781619501522) (2 page)

Leon answered, “We’re playing
Garbage.
Wanna play, too?” and he began shaking
around again. Emery’s face turned bright red. Philip felt like
jumping inside one of the garbage cans and pulling the lid down on
top of him.

“
You’re playing
Garbage?”
Mr. Sagsman asked slowly.

“
Yeah,” said Leon, standing still.
“It’s a game. One of the players gets covered with garbage, and the
other players help him shake it off. Watch.”

“
No, no, no,” said Mr. Sagsman. “I’ve
seen enough.” He looked at Philip. “Philip, you’re . . . what were
you . . . ? Never mind. The three of you go home. School’s been
over for twenty minutes. And you, Philip, go get yourself cleaned
up. And for heaven’s sake, don’t play around the garbage cans
again. Now, go.”

Philip and Emery, their heads bowed in
embarrassment, headed out of the play yard. Leon took two steps and
gave himself a shake. He took another few steps and gave another
shake. After five or six wild shakes, some of them right in the
middle of the street, Emery couldn’t stand it.

“
Leon!
If you don’t walk
right, I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna . . .”

“
Boom!”
said Leon, waving his
arms around in front of him. He laughed and said, “Did you see me
fall over the desk today?”

“
Leon, can you walk regular? Please,”
Emery barked. He turned to Philip. “You smell.”

Philip ignored both of the other boys and
started running. He couldn’t get home quick enough.

Philip and Emery had planned to play
together after school. The September weather was perfect; not too
hot and not too cold. Philip had really been
looking
forward
to playing with Emery, but now how could he?
Parts of his clothes were soaked with garbage juice, and even
though he couldn’t see it, he knew he had all kinds of garbage junk
stuck to his back. He opened his front door quietly, hoping to get
to the bathroom hamper and stash his clothes without his mother’s
knowing. He lowered his book bag to the floor and tiptoed to the
stairs, but when he reached the third step, he looked up and saw
his mother looking down at him from the top of the stairs. Philip
stood still, hoping his mother would simply say “Hi” and keep
going. But no, down the stairs toward him she came.

She smiled at him and said, “How was school
tod . . . ?” She stopped and wrinkled her nose. She looked behind
her and all around. She gave a loud sniff, and Philip’s stomach
spun. He knew what came next.

“
Philip, is that you?” She leaned close
to him, gave another loud sniff, and yanked her head backward.
“Ugh, what in the world . . . ?”

Philip had no desire to give a long
explanation because he knew the more he explained, the dumber he
would sound. He simply lowered his head and mumbled, “I got garbage
junk on me.”

“
Got what? Garbage junk? What is
garbage junk? You smell like . . . I don’t want to tell you what
you smell like.” She put her hand on the top of his head and turned
him around. “Ohh! What is all over your back?”

“
I told you. Garbage junk. Can I go
now?”

“
No, you can
not
go now. I sent you to school this morning clean and
well-dressed. How do you manage to come home covered in
garbage?”

“
I fell. I was running, and I slipped
and fell.”

“
In a pile of garbage?”

Philip put on a frozen face and nodded.

“
It never ends,” his mother mumbled.
“Come with me.”

Philip started up the stairs.

“
No, no. You’re not taking those
clothes anywhere but the basement and the washing machine. I’m
going to have to soak them first.”

Feeling the blood creep up into his cheeks,
Philip followed his mother to the basement.

“
Give me those clothes.”

“
You mean take them off?”

“
Yes, unless you want me to throw you
in the washing machine with them.”

“
All of them?”

“
Give me your clothes!” his mother
ordered.

“
I’ll be in my underwear!”

“
Only if you didn’t get garbage on your
underwear.”

“
How could I get garbage on my
underwear?”

“
How could you get garbage on anything?
Take them off. Nobody’s home. Give me your clothes and go upstairs
and take a bath.”

“
A bath! Now? In the
afternoon?”

“
Are you dirty and smelly in the
afternoon?”

Philip had no answer. He took his
clothes off and handed them to his mother, who turned away to fill
up a large tub with water. She wrinkled her nose, took the clothes,
held them at arm’s length, and dropped them one by one into the
tub. When Philip handed her his last sock, he turned and ran up the
stairs, through the kitchen, into the front hallway, and bounded up
to the bathroom.
Leon. Stupid Leon.
Philip
began to fill up the bathtub, and as he waited for the water to
rise, he plotted revenge against Leon.

~ * ~

By the time Philip got back to Emery’s house,
he thought he had a plan ready if he and Emery needed one. It would
at least get rid of Leon for a while. Emery answered Philip’s
knock. As soon as Philip stepped inside, he heard a loud crash in
the kitchen.

Emery rolled his eyes and pushed the front
door closed. “Leon’s here,” Emery mumbled. He waved Philip on and
ran ahead to the kitchen, where Leon lay on his back on the kitchen
floor, a box of Devil’s Food Snackwells scattered next to him.

“
Leon,” Emery yelled, “they’re my
favorite cookies. What’d you do?”

Leon shook his head as if he were dizzy
and sat up. He looked at the cookies spread around him on the
floor. Then he pointed above the kitchen counter to the open door
of a cabinet. “They were up there. Now, they’re down here. With
me.” He gave a
yuk yuk.
“Want a cookie?” He
picked up the nearest cookie from the floor and took a
bite.

Both Emery and Philip burst out at the same
time, “Leon, don’t eat cookies off the floor!”

Leon chewed his bite of cookie and looked at
the other half of the cookie in his hand. “Oh,” he said and wiped
the two sides of the cookie across the front of his shirt. He
smiled at Philip and Emery and popped the rest of the cookie into
his mouth.

“
It’s good,” he mumbled as crumbs fell
into his lap.

Emery cried, “You’re disgusting, Leon. Stop
eating the cookies off the floor. The floor’s dirty.” Emery bent to
pick up the cookies, and Philip helped him. Leon grabbed the three
cookies nearest him and wiped them across his shirt.

“
Leon, don’t! What did I tell you?”
Emery said angrily.

“
Dey’re good,” said Leon, his mouth
newly stuffed with the three cookies.

Emery and Philip tossed the remaining cookies
into the garbage can.

“
And don’t you go into the garbage can
after them, Leon. He would,” Emery explained to Philip.

Leon started
yuk
yuk
ing. “Garbage cookies. I don’t eat garbage cookies. I
only eat floor cookies. Your friend likes garbage, though. Maybe
he’ll eat them.” He continued to laugh as if he’d said the funniest
thing.

Philip glared at Leon.
Poor
Emery,
he thought,
to be related to a bingo
chip like Leon.

Leon skipped over to where the two other boys
stood staring at him.

“
Come on,” said Emery in disgust. They
went into the living room. Emery and Philip sat on the sofa, and
Leon sat on a big soft chair facing them. He began humming to
himself and bouncing up and down on the chair. Little by little he
hummed louder and bounced higher, until it looked as if he were
about to break himself into pieces every time he landed back in the
chair.

“
Leon, cut it out,”
Emery
shouted.

Leon settled into the chair a little at a
time like a bouncing ball running out of bounce. “Fun!” he
reported. “Wanna see me do it again?” He bounced once.

“
No, no, no, no, no,” said Philip. “We
have a game to play.”

“
We do?” Emery asked.

“
Yes, yes we do.” Philip leaned over to
Emery and whispered, “Say yes to everything I say.”

“
A game? Good,” said Leon, sitting
still. “I like games.” He started to bounce again.

“
You can’t play if you bounce,” said
Philip.

“
No,” Emery agreed. “You can never play
again in your whole life if you bounce. Not in this life or the
next life if you start bouncing again.”

Leon stopped. “This game has hard rules,” he
said. “What’s the name of the game?”

Emery looked at Philip.

“
Uh, the uh, name of the game?”
stammered Philip.

“
Yeah, what’s the name of the game? I
want to know if I played it before,” said Leon.

“
No, you never played this game
before,” said Philip. “It’s a new game. It’s only played in our
neighborhood. Kids other places don’t even know about
it.”

“
What’s it called?” asked Emery with
interest.

Philip fired him a hot look.

“
Oh, yeah. Only around here we play it,
Leon. It is so cool. Tell him about it, Philip.”

“
Well, it’s called Kleebis.”

Emery turned to Philip. “Kleebis?”

Philip tossed him another fiery look.

“
Kleebis. Yep, good old Kleebis,” said
Emery. “You’ll like it, Leon. Tell him the rules,
Philip.”

“
Well, you see we take one person’s
shoes—the newest person in the game—
his
shoes.”

“
The newest person,” Leon pondered.
“Hey, that’s me! You take my shoes?”

“
We take your shoes, and we hide them,”
Philip went on.

“
Yeah,” said Emery. “We hide them real
good.”

“
Then what?” asked Leon, looking at
Emery.

“
Then . . .” said Emery. “Then . . .
tell him what then, Philip.”

“
Uh, then you have to find your shoes.
After you find your shoes, you hide yourself.”

“
Yeah,” said Emery with enthusiasm.
“Hide yourself real good where nobody can ever find
you.”

Leon nodded. “Not in this life or the
next life, right?
Yuk yuk.
What do you two
do?”

“
What do we do?” said Emery, whose
anticipation of the game increased the more Philip described it.
“Why, we . . . we . . . tell him what we do, Philip.”

“
Well, after we hide your shoes, then
we hide, too, and we all stay hidden until we find each
other.”

Leon clapped his hands. “
Yuk
yuk,
yeah. We all stay hidden until we . . .” Leon’s
eyes got a faraway look in them. “We all stay hidden until we find
each other? How can we find each other if we’re all
hiding?”

“
Uh, the Kleebis looks for us,” said
Philip, thinking fast.

“
The Kleebis?” said Leon.

“
Yeah,” said Philip, “we all hide, and
the one whose house is the nearest gets to be the Kleebis, and the
one who found his shoes has to stay hidden until the Kleebis finds
him.”

“
I think I played this game before,”
said Leon uncertainly. “Is it a game where I hide, and nobody comes
to look for me?”

“
Oh, no, this game’s way different,”
Emery promised, getting into the spirit of things. “The Kleebis
doesn’t want to stay a Kleebis. He has to find the hidden one who
found the shoes so
that
one can be a Kleebis
forever. Get it?”

“
I think so. If you find me, I’ll be a
Kleebis forever, right?”

“
Right,” said Emery. “In this life and
the next life.”

“
Yeah, great game, right?” said Philip.
“Okay, let’s play.”

Leon nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!
Kleebis forever,
woo hoo.
Kleebis
forever,
woo hoo.
Kleebis forever,
woo hoo.”

“
What are you doing?” Emery
demanded.

Leon started
yuk
yuk
ing and punching his fist into the air. “Yeah, I want
to be a Kleebis forever,
woo hoo.”

“
You’re not allowed to go
woo hoo
until you’re the real Kleebis,” said Philip.
“It’s against the rules.”

“
Oh, those rules again,” said Leon. He
took off his shoes and handed them to Emery. “Here, hide them,
Kleebis.”

Emery took them, and Philip said, “Now, you
go lie down on the sofa and keep your eyes covered and count to one
hundred. Count real slow. Then you can look for your shoes.”

Leon laughed. “Yeah, okay.” As he
walked to the end of the sofa, the boys heard him say in a small
voice, “Kleebis forever,
woo hoo.”
Philip and
Emery looked at one another and shook their heads.