The Day of the Iguana (3 page)

“Robert,” he said. “If you cross this line, there will be consequences. Large ones and small ones.”

“Can you give me an example, please?” asked Robert. Frankie reached over and gave Robert a noogie on his head, not too hard, just enough to make his point. Robert squealed like a kitten.

“And that's a small consequence,” Frankie said.

Ashley and I slid into the middle bench. And my mom, without even calling it, got shotgun. I tell you, adults have it made.

We drove down 78th Street, which is our block, past Mr. Kim's grocery store. He was outside, using his green garden hose to put fresh water in the buckets of roses. We passed our school, P.S. 87. It was closed up tight, which is the way I like it best.

When we reached Columbus Avenue, we stopped at the pet store and dropped Katherine off. George was waiting outside, and he was so happy to see her. Mr. Furry and Miss Scaly.

We drove through Central Park. Lots of people were out walking their dogs. I saw a dachshund that looked just like Cheerio, except he was dressed in a plaid overcoat with four little red boots. Once on Halloween, we put a sailor hat on Cheerio. He didn't like that and started doing his spinning thing. That time, he spun around so fast that the sailor hat flew off his head and landed directly on top of my dad's head. It was amazing. If I knew the number, I would've called Ripley's Believe It or Not. From that day on, we realized that Cheerio was a dog who will not wear people clothes. I give him credit for that.

As we headed to the Triborough Bridge that takes you out of town, I turned and looked back at the skyline of Manhattan. Whenever I look at all the skyscrapers poking their tops up into the clouds, I always feel proud that New York is my city and lucky that I get to live in such an exciting place.

We settled in for the ride to Westhampton. My mom, who is working on inventing healthy snack foods for the twenty-first century, offered everyone a taste of her new salt-free, wheat-free, taste-free soy pretzel snack that she stuffed with rice cheese. We all said we were really full.

When the city was no longer in view, my mom turned in her seat and said the dreaded words.

“Let's sing some travel songs.”

She does this on every car trip we take. She has a list in her head of really horrible songs-ones that are
both
long and bad-like “Found a Peanut”, “My Darling Clementine”, and of course, the always awful “Row Row Row Your Boat.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Robert, and Emily agreed.

What is wrong with them? Don't they know the difference between fun and not-fun?

“No singing,” I begged. The last thing I wanted to hear was Robert belting out “Row Row Row Your Boat” in his nasal little twang.

“Then how about a game?” my mom suggested.

“Great idea,” said Robert. “Why don't we drill each other on multiplication tables?”

“Why don't I drill you through the backseat,” whispered Frankie.

“I've got it,” Emily said. “Let's shout out Amazing Iguana Facts.”

Can you believe this girl and I come from the same mother and father?

“Iguanas are born with eighty teeth, but by the time they get to be Mr. Zipzer's age, they have one hundred and twenty teeth,” Robert said, without missing a beat.

“Robert,” Emily said, “that is fascinating.”

I turned around and stared at Emily. I have shared a house with this girl since the day she was born, but I had never heard that tone of voice come out of her. It sounded so sweet, like maple syrup covering a buckwheat pancake.

“Furthermore,” Robert went on, staring straight at Emily, “did you know that two-thirds of an iguana's length is its tail?”

Emily cracked up.

“Yes!” She giggled. “And when attacked, the iguana can break off its own tail.”

“After which, it actually grows a new tail,” added Robert.

Robert and Emily gave each other a high five. They were in nerd heaven. I glanced at Ashley and Frankie, and their eyes were rolling into the back of their heads.

“Can we turn on the radio now?” I begged my mom. “I don't even care if it's your oldies station.” Anything to cover up the iguana fest that was oozing out of the backseat.

It was after twelve thirty when we finally reached Westhampton. We drove through some woods into a pretty little town. Past the town was a clump of houses all painted pink and blue and yellow. They were new and low to the ground, not like the skyscrapers in Manhattan. Even though they were a few blocks away from the ocean, you could still see the sand underneath the lawns and in between the houses and on the sides of the streets. I recognized my Uncle Gary and Aunt Maxine's house because my aunt had tied a bunch of “Happy Birthday” balloons around the shiny copper mailbox.

We pulled into the driveway. Zack and Jake came running out to greet us, wearing red boots and capes.

“They're here, they're here,” they shouted. And when I say shouted, I mean
shouted.
Those little guys had some powerful lungs.

“Ank,” they said, jumping on me and spraying spit into my face. “Ank, did you bring us a present?”

Papa Pete came running out to say hello. Even though he's going to be sixty-eight next June 26, he's in really good shape. With his bushy mustache and strong, hairy arms, he looked like a grizzly bear in a red sweatsuit.

“How are all my grandkids?” Papa Pete said. Ashley and Frankie and Robert aren't really related to him, but Papa Pete likes to call us all his grandkids anyway. He gave me a big pinch on the cheek.

“I love this cheek and everything that's attached to it,” he said. He pinched Ashley and Frankie, too, but when he went for Robert's cheek, his fingers just slid right off.

“I've got to introduce you to pastrami sandwiches,” he said to Robert. “Put a little meat on those bones.”

For his whole life, Papa Pete ran The Crunchy Pickle, the deli that my mom took over. Like I told you, my mom is trying to change it into a healthy deli that serves soy salami and vegetarian bologna and other taste-free treats. But when Papa Pete was making the sandwiches, people said they were the best in town.

“Who are you?” Zack said to Frankie, pointing a chocolate-covered finger right up at Frankie's face.

“I'm Frankie, little dude. Nice to meet you.”

“What's so nice about it?” Zack said.

Ashley stepped up to help.

“Nice to meet you is something you say when you meet a new friend,” she explained to Zack. “It's good manners.”

“I don't have good manners,” Zack said.

“Me, either,” Jake said.

That was pretty obvious, so I thought maybe I should change the subject.

“Hey, are you guys ready for a great magic show?” I said, giving them my best smile, the one where I show my top and bottom teeth.

“I hate magic,” cried Jake.

“Yeah, me, too,” screamed Zack.

“It stinks,” said Jake.

“Yeah, stinks,” added Zack.

Zack gave me a swift kick in the leg. Jake bit me on the hand.

That was my first clue that it was going to be a very long afternoon.

MY AUNT MAXINE came running outside and threw her arms around my mom. She's my mother's younger sister. They both have curly blond hair that flies off in all directions, but at that moment, Aunt Maxine looked like she had stuck her finger in an electric socket. Her hair was standing straight up and her eyes were popping out of her head.

“I thought you'd never get here,” she said, giving me a kiss on the head.

“I'm sorry we're so late, Max,” my mom said. “We had reptile problems.”

“Who doesn't?” my aunt said. I don't think she even heard what my Mom said, otherwise she would have said something like,
“ What happened? Did spotted frogs invade your dining room?”
You don't just ignore it when someone says they have reptile problems.

“Aunt Maxine, I'd like to introduce you to Magik 3,” I said, pointing to Ashley and Frankie. “Plus one,” I added, when Robert stuck his face in front of her. “There's no extra charge for him.”

“Come inside quickly,” Aunt Maxine said. “We need entertainment! The kids are going crazy.”

“How many are in there?” Frankie asked nervously.

“Seventeen, but it feels like a hundred and nine,” Aunt Maxine answered. “They got into the M & M's—the entire jumbo bag—and they're pretty sugared up.”

“Maybe we should raise our fee,” Ashley whispered.

“It's my family,” I whispered back. “We can't ask for more.”

We weren't even inside the front door when we were pelted with M & M's. Most of the kids were hiding behind the couches and chairs. Their parents were in the backyard, sipping coffee and trying to ignore the candy-chucking that was going on inside. A blue M & M hit me in the forehead.

“Hey, you could put an eye out doing that!” I said. I couldn't believe my own voice. That was something my mom said all the time, and here I was, saying those very same words. I was turning into my mom!

“Kids! Kids!” Papa Pete called out. “Candy goes in your face, not
on
it.”

“Cousin Hank and his friends have come all the way here to put on a magic show for you,” said Aunt Maxine. “Won't that be fun?”

The answer came in a hailstorm of M & M's.

Papa Pete whispered to us, “I think you better start the show right away. The audience is restless.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Not so fast, Zip,” said Frankie, grabbing my arm. “You better find the VCR first.”

“I will,” I said. “Don't worry about it.”

Frankie looked at his watch.

“The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo
starts in ten minutes,” he said. “We have to set up the tape before we begin the show.”

Ashley could hear the nervous tone in Frankie's voice.

“I'll tell you what,” she said. “Frankie and I will set up for the show, and Hank, you find the VCR. Okay, Hank?”

“No problem,” I said. I could see Frankie relax. Ashley Wong is a great stress buster.

“Aunt Maxine, where's Uncle Gary?” I asked.

“He's right there,” she said. I turned to a corner of the room, and saw a guy in floppy shoes and a clown wig trying to make balloon animals. His clown lipstick was smeared all over his face. His red clown nose, which was attached by a rubber band, was sitting on his forehead so he could blow into the balloons. He was blowing and blowing until the veins in his neck stuck out, but the balloon would not inflate.

“Hey Uncle Gary,” I said. “Is it all right if I use your VCR?”

“It's in the den,” he said. He didn't sound happy.

I ran out to the car and got the blank tape we had brought. When I came back in, the kids were smushing chocolate chip cookies into one another's faces. Frankie was setting up his magic table in the living room. Ashley was putting up the Magik 3 sign. Robert, who was supposed to be helping, was following Emily around like a pathetic puppy.

I went into the den, closed the door, and looked around for the television. What I saw looked like an electronics department store. There were five remote controls on the coffee table. Each one was a different length and had different buttons in different places. On the wall, there was one big television and three little ones running down the side of it. But that's just the beginning. There was also a CD player, a DVD player, a CD that recorded the DVD, a PlayStation One, a PlayStation Two, and an empty space next to that—I guess that was just waiting for a PlayStation Three.

I looked at all the equipment, and if you had offered me a zillion dollars, I couldn't have told you which machine I should put the tape in. The entire cabinet was filled with lights. Red ones, green ones, white ones. Blinking ones, flashing ones, steady ones. Digital numbers changing constantly on dials that looked like the instrument panel of a fighter jet. I stared at all the lights and numbers. They were like a magnet for my eyes. I couldn't stop looking at them, but I couldn't really see them, either. They were just a big blur.

I jumped up and down on one foot, trying to shake my brain into action. The numbers and lights were all there like they were laughing at me, daring me to read them.

I squinched up my face and closed my eyes really tight, then opened them up really wide.

When I opened my eyes, everything looked just like it did before. I walked up to the machines and started poking them, to find the one that had a flap that would open for the tape to slide in. I got it on the third machine.

As I slid the tape in, the machine ate it like I eat a cheeseburger. Now I just had to turn on the TV and tape the movie. Easy. No problem.

Uh-oh
.
Major problem.

I flicked on the television and went to Channel 48, but it wasn't the same channel 48 that we get at home. In fact, none of the channels were the same as ours. I surfed around and didn't even recognize half the shows that were on. My aunt and uncle must have 500 channels.

I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. I thought that if I could find Frankie, he'd help me figure out the channel where the movie was playing. Frankie wasn't in the hall, but one of the three-year-old boys was.