Philip and the Loser (9781619501522) (5 page)

“
Look,” said Emery. He pointed to a
large flat piece of wood leaning against one wall of the garage. He
went and got it. “If we can stick pegs on it, this’ll work
good.”

Philip went to the far corner of the garage.
He grabbed a small, white trash bag and brought it back to Emery.
“Look at these.”

Inside the bag were round sticks of different
lengths.

“
Hey, perfect,” said Emery, all
excited. “All we have to do is glue a bunch of them to the board,
find some rings to throw, and we’re done.”

He and Philip laughed. “This is going to be
so easy,” Philip said. “I’ll go get some super glue.”

Philip rushed inside the house and rushed
back out again. The boys laid the board on the picnic table.

“
Here, hold this,” said Philip, giving
Emery the medium-sized tube of glue. “Open the bag, and I’ll pick a
stick.”

Philip closed his eyes and reached inside the
white plastic bag as if he were picking out a winning ticket and
pulled out a short stick.

“
Where shall we glue this one?” Emery
asked, putting down the plastic bag and taking the cap off the tube
of glue.

“
Mmm. Let’s start on the outside.
Here.” Philip touched his finger to one of the four corners. He
turned the stick toward Emery. “Put some glue on the bottom.” Emery
squeezed the tube hard and
psszztt,
a blob of
glue shot toward Philip and hit him on his right cheek.

“
Hey! Watch.”

“
Whoops! It’s okay now. Just that first
squeeze. Uh, oh, it keeps coming out.”

Philip had no time to wipe the glue from his
cheek. He handed the short peg to Emery. “Here, rub the bottom of
the peg with the leaky glue. Quick, before it drips.”

Emery obeyed. “Hurry up and stick it. The
glue won’t stop coming out. Stick it. Stick it and get another peg.
The glue’s getting on me.”

Philip stuck the first peg down on the board
and quickly reached inside the bag for a second stick. He pulled
out one a little longer than the first one.

Emery used his finger to wipe the glue from
the front of the tube before it fell onto the ground.

“
Put your finger glue on the bottom of
the peg,” Philip ordered. “Come on!”

Emery rubbed his finger on the bottom of the
second stick.

“
Put the top back on and keep the glue
in.”

Emery picked up the top and stuck it back
over the leaking glue. When he did, he found the cap stuck to the
glue he had on his finger and wouldn’t let go.

Philip took a tissue he had in his pocket and
tried to wipe the glue from his cheek, but when he did, the thin
white paper stuck to his cheek.

“
Hey,” said Emery. “We’re getting all
gluey. Where’d you put the second peg?”

Philip looked around. He’d laid the second
stick on the picnic table, but now he didn’t see it there. He
looked around and saw the stick nestled against the trash can in
the corner of the garage where Philip had thrown yesterday’s cats.
He went to get it, continuing to scratch at his face to get the
tissue off. He picked up the peg and inspected it.

“
Yuck! The glue grabbed a lot of junk
when it rolled away,” Philip reported. The glue on the bottom of
the stick had accumulated dirt, a piece of grass, and two scraps of
paper on its rolling trip to the trash can.

Emery shook his hand, trying to get the tube
of glue unstuck from his finger. “This is harder than we thought.
The tube’s stuck to me. The cap’s stuck to me. The glue’s going
wild.”

Philip rubbed at his gluey cheek as Emery
shook his gluey hand.

Leon walked around the corner of the house
into the backyard. When he saw Philip and Emery rubbing and shaking
he asked, “What are ya doin’, guys? Hey, me too. Watch.” Suddenly,
Leon started shaking one hand in imitation of Emery and rubbing his
other hand against his cheek to copy Philip. Then for no apparent
reason, he started hopping three times on his left foot, then three
times on his right foot.

“
What are you doing, Leon?” Philip
asked hotly.

“
Yeah, cut it out,” Emery
ordered.

“
I’m only doing what you’re doing. Rub
and shake,
woo hoo.”

“
Nobody was jumping up and down, Leon,”
Emery said angrily

“
Yes,” Philip agreed. “Nobody. And
no
woo hoo
ing. This is my property and
no
woo hoo
ing on it.”

“
Right,” Emery barked. “This is his
property, and we don’t ever
woo hoo
here. Not
in this life or the next life. Umph!” The tube of glue finally came
unstuck.

“
They’re the rules?” Leon
asked.

“
Unbreakable rules,” said Philip,
pawing at his cheek.

“
If I break the rules, do I turn into a
Kleebis?” Leon gave a loud
yuk yuk.

“
And no laughing either,” Philip
barked.

“
Nobody turns into a Kleebis. And don’t
even
say
the word Kleebis,” Emery
demanded.

“
You stand still and don’t talk,” said
Philip. “The rules say so.”

“
What are you doing here, Leon?” Emery
asked. “I thought you were supposed to study all day.”

Leon didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He
didn’t blink.

Emery raised his voice. “Leon, I said what
are you doing here?”

Leon remained absolutely still.

“
Leon!”
screamed Emery.
“
What are you doing here?”

Leon smiled. “Philip said to stand still and
don’t say anything. I did it good, right?”

“
Leon,” Emery repeated very slowly.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were punished all weekend.
Answer me.”

“
I am punished, but I have to go to the
library and get some books on India. My art teacher says I draw
good, and she’s gonna let me make a big poster of something about
India.”

Philip recalled that Leon had Ms. Wong for
art twice a week instead of boring Mr. Sagsman, and he got even
angrier. “Well, then go,” he shouted. “We’re busy here.”

“
Yeah, go,” echoed Emery.

“
Okay, okay,” said Leon, his head
drooping. He gave a tiny shrug and walked slowly around the house,
stopping for a moment to give one last look back.

When Philip waved his two hands and shouted,
“Shoo,” Leon turned and disappeared.

“
Now the tube of glue is stuck to my
other hand, and I can’t get the cap off
this
hand,” said Emery.

“
Is the paper off my face?”

“
I don’t see any there.”

“
Good. Let’s do this slow,” said
Philip. He slammed himself down on the picnic bench. “Sit here.
Forget about the cap. We’ll get it off later. Put some glue on the
bottom of this stick. We’ll start over. Put the glue on before it
runs out all over.”

“
I can’t get them off my hands,” Emery
moaned, giving both hands a shake.

“
Don’t worry about it now,” Philip
growled. “I said we’d unstick you after we do all the
gluing.”

And so slowly, one stick at a time, Emery
glued, and Philip stuck. Philip found out he had to press the stick
down a pretty long time for the glue to get dry enough to hold up
the peg so he could attach another stick to the board. When they
were nearly through, Emery said, “I’m hungry. How am I going to
eat?”

“
Don’t eat until we’re done. Then I’ll
unstick you.”

“
But I’m hungry
now.”

“
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Wait a minute
then.” Philip ran into the house and returned with a box of fig
bars. He opened the box and handed one cookie to his friend. “Here,
have a fig bar.”

Emery held up his gluey hands. “How am I
supposed to eat a fig bar like this? I might get glue on it, and if
I eat glue, all my inside tubes will stick together, and I’ll
probably die. You feed me.”

“
Feed you!”

“
Stick a cookie in my
mouth.”

Philip could see no way around it, so he took
the fig bar and shoved it into Emery’s mouth.

“
Hey, na so har’,” Emery
mumbled.

“
Here, take another one.” Philip shoved
another fig bar into Emery’s mouth.

Emery held up his hands. “Swowa,” he
ordered.

“
What?”

“
Swowa.”

“
Slower?”

Emery nodded. “Yeah, swowa.”

Finally, after he’d swallowed his fifth
cookie, Emery said, “Enough.”

“
Can I have one?” came Leon’s voice.
“I’m back from the library.”

Philip ignored Leon and turned over a peg for
Emery to glue. “Let’s finish. We only need to do a couple more. Put
some glue here.”

Emery dabbed with the tube of glue at the
bottom of the peg.

Leon tried again. “I said I’m back from the
library. Can I have a cookie?” When he received no response again,
he asked, “What are you guys doing?”

“
We’re making something for a fair,”
said Emery. “Okay?”

“
I got two books on India,” Leon
reported. While the other boys kept working, Leon took the box of
fig bars from the picnic table and sat down on the grass to leaf
through his library books and occasionally to watch the boys work.
For a long time he sat quietly, nibbling fig bars.

“
There,” said Philip in triumph.
“Finished.” He and Emery proudly inspected the board, now covered
with pegs.

“
What is it?” Leon asked.

“
It’s a game, a game, Leon,” said
Philip.

“
You know,” said Emery. “You play it,
and you win a prize.”

“
Not that
you
could win one,” said Philip. He and Emery laughed. They both
felt good now that they’d finished their task. They knew their hard
work had paid off.

“
I gotta get these off,” said Emery,
holding up his tube-and-cap-glued hands.

“
Come on in the garage,” Philip
suggested. “There’s some rags and tools.”

“
Tools?” Emery cried in alarm. “Why do
we need tools?”

“
Maybe we need them. I’ll attach the
tool to the tube and pull it off.”

“
My finger better not come off with
it,” Emery grumbled, and he followed Philip into the
garage.

As Philip pulled the stuck cap from Emery’s
right hand, they heard a noise behind them from the back yard.

Philip glanced out the door.
“
Arrrgghhh!
”
he
screamed.

Emery rushed to see what had shocked Philip.
“Nooooo!” he cried.

“
I saw a picture of this in my library
book. This is a good game. The India man lying on a bed of nails,”
said Leon as he settled himself on top of the pegs of the ring toss
board and spread his arms and legs wide. “There! I did it! I did
it! I’m lying on a bed of nails. I’m a winner. I’m a win . .
.”

Before either Emery or Philip could move,
Leon’s weight on the pegs started pulling the glue loose and
bending them over.

“
Get off! Get off!” Philip
screamed.

Leon tried to sit up, but his movement
loosened the pegs even more, and then a series of
sccreechhhtt
noises sounded.
Nearly
every peg Philip and Emery had glued to the board—all but two—came
unglued and fell over as Leon crashed onto the board on top of
them.

“
Get off! Get off!” Philip and Emery
clamored.

Leon’s struggles to get off the board sent
both the board and himself flying off the picnic table. Emery and
Philip watched in horror as Leon, the board, and the pegs tumbled
to the bench and then the concrete. Pegs rolled everywhere, and a
sharp crack cut through the air.

“
Oh, Leon!” Emery screamed. “Look what
you did. Get up! Get up, you boob!”

When Leon finally stood up, four pegs dangled
from his back, glued to his shirt.

“
Look what you did! Look what you did!”
Philip and Emery screamed together.

“
What happened here?” Philip’s father
had returned.

“
This . . . this . . .
bingo-chip-brained knucklehead pretended to be an India man and
knocked off all our pegs,” Philip sputtered. “It’s
ruined!”

“
What is wrong with you, Leon?” Emery
screamed.

Mr. Felton shook his head in sympathy.
“It looks like old Leon wants to turn
himself
into a peg board. Come here, Leon.”

Leon walked over, and Mr. Felton spun him
around so he could pull the glued pegs from his shirt.

“
Even the board’s cracked in two,” said
Emery mournfully as he inspected the damage.

“
Uh, I don’t know what happened,” said
Leon. “I just . . . the game . . . the India man lying on the
nails. It’s in my book here. I can show you.”

“
We don’t want to see anything, Leon,”
Emery fumed.

“
Another game ruined,” moaned
Philip.

“
Well, I have to unpack the groceries,”
said Mr. Felton. “Clean up this stuff. Don’t worry, Flipster,
you’ll think up something.” Mr. Felton walked out of the backyard
shaking his head.