Pickle (10 page)

“Help? No help.
Solo
mission,” Frank said. I leaned across the table.

“I've already proven that I can do it alone, haven't I? I'm pretty sure I could just count the balls as my initiation. But, I'll be a good sport and just say that was a freebie.”

“Noted,” Frank said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let's fog up the gym. All of the classes go, so it wouldn't just be Ms. Ruiz's class again. It would be like a zombie movie.”

“Spooky, I like it. But how?” Bean said.

“Well, do you guys sell fog machines in the store?”

“Yeah, but they're, like, fifty dollars. We can't borrow one either because the boxes are all shrink-wrapped. How much club money do we have left?” I checked the envelope in my backpack.

“Twenty-one bucks. And thirty-eight cents,” I said. “It's not enough.”

“Maybe not for a fog machine, but there's always dry ice,” Frank said. Oliver didn't know what it was, so Frank explained how dry ice was really frozen carbon dioxide that makes misty fog when you put it in water. Perfect. I'd seen a sign for dry ice blocks at the bodega on the corner. Oliver had to go to a rehearsal for
Hello, Dolly!
, so we made plans to meet there before school the next day, and Bean would bring some disposable popcorn bowls from Lee's to hold the water.

Operation Zombie Gym was a go.

 

25

The Fog

I overslept, so the others were already waiting in front of the bodega when I ran up. Oliver pointed to a sign on the door that said only one kid was allowed in the store at a time. It was one of
those
places. We wanted to buy the dry ice as a group, so we walked three blocks to Farley's Grocery. They sell dry ice, too. They keep it by the front doors in a cooler.

Did you know that touching dry ice without gloves burns your hands? I did not. I found out the hard way when I reached into the cooler to throw a couple blocks into our cart. It felt crazy cold, and then started burning a split second later. Oliver said I squeaked, but I think I made more of a manly sound. Like a grunt. Whatever it was, it hurt, and the sound I made was loud enough that the cashier came to see what we were doing.

The cashier, whose name tag said we should call him Eddie, told me it would have been a lot worse if the blocks weren't wrapped in plastic, and what kind of numbskull was I anyway to not use gloves. Then he pulled a pair on a chain from the back of the freezer. I don't know why I didn't think to look behind the freezer for something I didn't know I needed. Eddie put the gloves on, but then shut the freezer door and put his hands on his hips.

“What do you kids want dry ice for anyway?”

“For a school project,” I said.

“It's not a toy.”

“We know that.”

“I'm not sure if we should even sell this to kids. Look what already happened.” He nodded toward me, with my stinging fingers in my mouth.

“Is there an age limit?” Oliver said. Eddie's eyes flared a little bit, like we'd challenged him to a duel. He inspected the freezer all over and read all of the fine print on the sticker on the door. There were teeny tiny faded letters that said you should wear gloves when handling dry ice, but nothing about an age limit. Eddie checked the sides and the back where the glove chain was attached. He shook his head.

“I'm sorry, but I just don't think you guys need this stuff,” Eddie said. Frank cleared his throat.

“My parents, the biology PROFESSOR and the LAWYER, would be very curious to know why we were not able to obtain the solidified carbon dioxide required for the important experiments in the LABORATORY to expand our scientific EDUCATION,” Frank said.

Eddie stared at Frank until Oliver stepped forward.

“This unnecessary delay may cause us to be tardy for school, sir. Surely you do not wish to encroach on our rights to a well-rounded education? I believe our principal would be very interested in hearing your explanation for this outrage. An outrage, I say!” Oliver yelled, his right arm raised and pointing toward Farley's water-stained ceiling.

I thought he'd gone too far. Maybe Eddie knew Principal Lebonsky, and next time she stopped in to buy vegetables for Hector he would tell her about the blabbermouth kids trying to buy dry ice for who knows what. Maybe he'd even give her our descriptions. I got so caught up in picturing the four of us in a lineup being ID'd by Eddie that I didn't notice when he started loading blocks into a box.

“How much do you kids want, anyway?” Eddie said. Bean elbowed me.

“Uh, twenty-one dollars worth.” Eddie sighed, but he packed four blocks into an empty hot dog box. Each one was about the size of half a shoe box. Frank saw me looking at the blocks and read my mind.

“Don't worry. Just wait until we add water.”

We bought a pack of grape bubble gum with the change from the ice and took off to school. We walked quickly to get back and put the ice in the gym before Coach Capell got done running laps around the track. I've seen that guy out there in a snowstorm, and during heat waves, too. He's a little nutty.

“Are your parents really a lawyer and a biology professor?” I asked Frank. I thought they'd be F.B.I. agents, or professional computer hackers.

“They run a day care,” he said.

We headed into the gym with the box of dry ice and four bowls. “If you just leave them out here, Coach Capell will see and throw them away before class even starts,” Frank said.

“Where should we put them then?” I said.

“I don't know,” Bean said. “Somewhere more private? Let's think … Maybe with an arm pit aroma and some leaky taps?”

“Oh, the locker room? Okay. I'll take two into the boys'—do you want to put the other two in the girls'?” Bean shook her head before I even finished talking.

“I would … but this isn't
my
prank. You've got to take the risk. Seems like you should handle fog placement personally.” Bean held a bowl out to me.

“I can't go in the girls' locker room! C'mon, Bean. Please? We could do this one together. You haven't done your initiation yet.”

“It's just not going to happen, Diaz,” Bean said. “I'm cooking up something else to prove
I'm
worthy.” She handed me the bowl. I couldn't ask the other guys to do it for me. I thought about calling off the prank. Bean bounced around on her feet, soaking up all of my discomfort like she was a sponge.

“Fine, there's probably nobody in there anyway.”

“Unless the cheerleaders are here. Practicing early,” Oliver said. “I'm sure they won't mind seeing you in their locker room. That's not creepy at all.”

I had to do it. I put my sweatshirt over my hands before I took the blocks out of the box and put them into the bowls. I carried two to the boys' locker room. I stood on the bench to slide the bowls on top of the lockers so people wouldn't touch them by accident. Frank grabbed his water bottle out of his locker, and I poured some into each bowl, but they were too high to see what was happening. When I got down, I couldn't see the bowls at all, but a couple of thin wisps of mist were falling down the lockers.

I stood at the doorway to the girls' locker room and listened. I didn't hear anyone inside, but my hyperventilating might have muffled any voices.

I tried to stand up straight and look confident. If somebody was there, maybe they'd think I was on some sort of official business. I went inside.

It didn't smell as bad as the boys' locker room, but otherwise it was pretty much the same, and I was able to fill the bowls up with water and put them on top of the lockers. I was out in less than three minutes. The gym was still deserted, besides the P.T.A.

Soon, there would be clouds of mystery!

“Will it drift out here into the gym like there's an impending zombie attack?”

“Have patience, Ben. Remember the bubbles,” Bean said, and patted me on the back. “Or you can stick your hands in there and swish it around.” They laughed. I didn't. Voices echoed in the gym lobby. The closest place to hide was the boys' locker room, so we ran in there. Oliver ducked around the corner into the shower room, but there wasn't anywhere to hide there. Frank folded himself into his locker and closed the door without a sound. Bean did the same thing with another locker a few doors down.

“Dude, I left it in my locker. It will just take a minute!” somebody whined, and the locker-room door creaked open. I boosted myself up from the bench to lay flat on top of the lockers by the bowl. It was starting to fog up a little bit and make hissing, gurgly sounds.

Two tall boys came in. Eighth graders. I recognized them from the basketball team. The shorter one once gave me and Finn Romo directions to the janitor's closet when we asked him how to get to the cafeteria. I peeked over the edge of the lockers to see which way they'd gone, and caught a glimpse of the tops of their heads. The shorter one had dandruff. I scooted back as slowly as I could, but the lockers creaked from the shifting weight.

“Shhh. Did you hear that?” the big one said. I held my breath. I heard one of them grab a locker door and jerk it open. There was a scream, and I think it was the tall guy. “What are you doing in my locker?” he said. I snuck another look over the edge. He held Bean up by the front of her overalls. She just scowled at him. “You are so dead, shorty.” We were busted. We were busted. We were busted.

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do to me, pudding brain?” Bean said. We were busted.

“I'm going to tell Mom, that's what. You aren't allowed to mess with my stuff! How long have you been waiting in there to scare me?”

“All morning, big guy.” Bean smiled.

“Well, you're going to be in trouble tonight. You're not supposed to be in the boys' locker room, weirdo,” he said. “And you didn't scare me.” He put her down and tried to pinch her nose, but Bean was too fast for him. She tried to smack him on his way out of the locker room, but she only caught a little bit of his shoulder. Their voices got farther away, but I didn't slide down from the lockers until I heard the gym door slam. Frank climbed out of the other locker.

“You have a brother?”

“I have brother
s
.”

“Did you know that was his locker?”

“Nope.”

We headed to history class and tried to look calm until gym class started an hour later.

*   *   *

I have never, ever been so excited to start gym class, not even when we got to have a water balloon fight. Oliver and I hung back a little bit so we wouldn't be the first ones into the locker room and we could check out everyone's reactions. I heard laughter from the locker room while we were still crossing the gym.

Two blocks of dry ice in each locker room equals a puny four-and-a-half-foot pool of fog. It just sat there like a chunk of sick cloud, no bigger than a table at the restaurant. It didn't even swirl, and as soon as Leo Saylor kicked his leg through the mist, it was pretty much gone. I hoped the girls' locker room had a better effect, but the snickering coming through the vent told me it was probably about the same. At least the class laughed, but it felt more like an “at us” laugh than a “with us” laugh. Somebody said it was funky locker gas and we all started pointing fingers. Hector pointed at me and I pointed at Oliver. I hoped that Frank and Bean had forgotten the cards, but there they were taped to the mirror over the sinks.

This creepy atmosphere brought to you compliments of the P.T.A. Thank you.

“The only thing creepy is the smell from the showers,” Finn said. No zombie would have shown his green face at our wimpy fog fest.

The most dramatic reaction came from Coach Capell. Somebody told him about the mystery mist, and he blew his whistle and yelled, “Evacuate the area! This is not a drill!” He talked about harmful gases and made us run laps outside while Rick “took care of the matter.”