The Miraculous Makeover of Lizard Flanagan (4 page)

BOOK: The Miraculous Makeover of Lizard Flanagan
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“No,” I said. “From the corner of Hutcheson and River.”

“What was your time?” Zach asked.

I checked my watch. “One forty-two,” I said.

“Not too bad,” Sam said.

“What do you mean, not too bad?” I said. “That was a great time!”

“I could do it faster,” Ed said.

Stinky snorted. Zach and Sam grinned.

I turned to Ed. “No way, Mechtenslowpoke. I've always been able to beat you. By miles!”

“Maybe not anymore, though,” he said, grinning. “Girls are supposed to slow down and guys speed up at about twelve.”

“What? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!”

“It's a well-known fact,” Ed said. He looked at Sam, then Zach and Stinky. “Aren't I right?”

Sam smirked. “Yeah.”

“No way! That's ridiculous!”

“That's the way it is,” Ed said, “so get used to it.”

“Okay, smart guy,” I said, turning to Ed. “We'll race later. And I'll
still
beat you.”

“You're on.”

“Where's Mary Ann?” Zach asked as we went inside.

“Home changing. She'll be here pretty soon.”

Zach's dog, Klondike, leaped up and danced all over the floor, he was so happy to see us. Klondike is a Lab mix and has a gentle, happy nature. He's so big, though, he can knock you over while he's saying hello.

Zach has a great room. The ceiling is covered with little plastic moons and stars that glow in the dark. The walls are covered with posters of his—and my—favorite ballplayers and a Chicago Cubs team picture.

A shelf over his desk is lined with all the trophies he's won. Last year the Raiders, our flag football team, voted him MVP, and he shared MVP honors with me on our baseball team, the Hawks. Then there were trophies for fishing competitions in Minnesota.

Today his floor was covered with dirty clothes he hadn't had time to put in the hamper.

I flopped on the bed and Klondike climbed on top of me. He huffed his dog breath into my face, but I didn't mind. I'd rather have Klondike in my face any day than Ginger Flush.

“Okay, Walters,” I said, scratching Klondike's neck, “let's see your loot.”

Zach grinned and went to his closet. He pulled out his tackle box, shoved aside some baseball cards on his desk, and set it down.

I pushed Klondike aside and joined the guys who crowded around his desk.

“A wet fly lure,” Zach said, taking it carefully out of this box.

It had glossy brown and reddish feathers that would drag through the water on his hook and attract fish by the dozens.

“The trout and bass'll fight to get a chance at it,” I said enviously.

A voice from downstairs called out. “Hi, everybody!”

“Hi, Mary Ann!” Zach yelled. “We're in my room.”

In a few seconds, Mary Ann appeared at the door. She was wearing her old blue cotton shorts and a T-shirt that said “Planet Hollywood—New York.”

“Mary Ann!” I said. “They let you go!”

“What do you mean?”

“Your kidnappers. They sent someone in your place this morning,” I said. “A girl showed up at school pretending to be you. Her disguise was good, but one thing gave her away. She was wearing panty hose.”

“Tights.” Mary Ann shrugged. “Yeah. I fought them off. I overcame all five of them with my incredible strength.”

Zach grinned. “Hey, I noticed the skirt today, Mary Ann. You looked good.”

“Thanks.”

Zach showed us some more of his birthday stuff: a really great baseball computer game, a book about Heisman winners, and a knife for cleaning fish.

“And then the usual clothes,” Zach said, shrugging.

No one wanted to see them, so we went outside.

“You guys want to play a game of football?” I asked. “Zach's team against mine.”

“We'll break in Zach's new ball,” Sam said.

“Okay, Klondike,” Zach said. “You'll have to sit next to the fence.” He pushed Klondike into a sitting position. “Stay.”

Klondike gazed up at Zach, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He looked disappointed.

It was a good game. Mary Ann, Sam, and I were against Zach, Ed, and Stinky. We won the toss, and I said we'd receive. The end zones were four bushes, two at either end of the yard.

Zach kicked off and Mary Ann received the ball.

She dodged both Ed and Stinky, but Zach got by Sam and tagged her halfway to the bush. Klondike whined and wagged his tail.

“Hey, Zach, Klondike wants to play,” I said.

“He could probably show us a few pointers,” Zach said. “He's a big Miami fan—watches every game.”

On the next play, Zach handed off the ball to Ed, who tried to run it up the middle. I easily tagged him. Sam gave me a high five. Klondike stood up and barked.

“Easy, boy. Stay,” Zach said, patting him on the head.

On the next play, Sam snapped the ball and motioned for me to move farther down the yard. I trotted backward with Zach covering me. I was geared up for this; I love the chance to run for a touchdown.

Sam threw a perfect spiral. The ball landed right in my fingertips. Zach tried to tag me, but I darted out of his way and ran past the bushes for a touchdown.

“All right!” I danced around the bushes with my arms in the air. Sam and Mary Ann were cheering, too.

Out of nowhere, Klondike leaped up and knocked me to the ground, barking and licking my face.

“Klondike, get off!” I yelled, laughing. Finally, I pushed him back and stood up.

“Klondike can't help it,” Zach said, grinning. “He wants to be a linebacker.”

We got drinks of water at the outdoor spigot near the back door.

“Hey, Lizard, your arm's bleeding,” Mary Ann said.

I hadn't known I'd scratched myself till she pointed to the blood trickling down my elbow.

“You better clean that up,” Zach said.

He and I went inside and into the kitchen. He pulled a bandage out of a drawer and handed it to me. I washed the cut and put the bandage over it.

“Hey, Lizard. Want one?”

Zach opened the top of the cookie jar. I could smell the peanut butter three feet away.

“So how was your first day of school?” I asked him.

He shrugged and held out the jar. “Fine. How about yours?”

“Okay,” I said. “I wish you and Sam and Mary Ann were in the orange group.” I took a cookie.

“Me, too.” Zach grabbed a cookie and set the jar on the kitchen table.

“I can't believe some of the girls in my classes,” I said. “Like that Ginger Flush.”

“The girl who came over during lunch?”

I made a face. “What an airhead. And those girls who squeal all the time—”

“Mmm.”

“Listen to this,” I said, pushing a strand of hair back from my face. “Ginger came up to me after school and said that girl, Lisa St. George—you know, the one with the big hair—was all broken up because she thought I was your girlfriend!” I laughed.

Zach's eyes got a little bigger and he swallowed the cookie in his mouth. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She wants to be your girlfriend, and she's been sad because she thinks you're already taken!”

“What did you tell Ginger?”

I shrugged. “I told her we're best friends, of course. Boy, those girls are so dumb!”

Zach pulled out another cookie but didn't put it in his mouth. He fingered the edge of the cookie jar.

“What do you know about that Lisa—what's her name?”

I had the weird feeling that he really did remember.

“St. George.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding. He was still running his finger around the jar. “So—what do you know about her?”

“Nothing. She doesn't seem very friendly, though.”

He looked out the window and didn't say anything.

“Come on,” I said. Just thinking about Lisa and those girls ticked me off. “Let's take some cookies out to the guys.”

He continued to stare out the window.

“Hey, Earth to Walters!”

He jerked his head to look at me.

“You coming?”

“Sure,” he said.

We went outside and played some more, but it wasn't as much fun. Zach's head wasn't in the game anymore. He missed passes and didn't tag me twice when he should have.

I watched him while we played football and hoped that maybe he was just coming down with a cold or something. Something that would pass so he'd be the good old Zach I've always known.

But it wasn't going to pass. It was going to get a lot worse.

4

“Have you ever heard that girls are supposed to slow down at twelve?” I asked Mary Ann on the way home. “And that boys are supposed to get better in athletics?”

“Well, most men's bodies are built to be stronger,” she said. “But I've heard that women are beginning to catch up in speed. You don't have anything to worry about. You beat the heck out of Ed just now.”

“Yeah.”

But I didn't want to think that he might—someday—be able to beat me.

We reached the next corner. “You want to stop by the creek before we go home?” I said.

“Sure.”

We turned left, and halfway down the block, we veered off into the woods.

I've loved the woods ever since I was a little kid. They surround a wide, shallow ravine with a creek running along the bottom. The creek is full of minnows, newts, and about a million frogs.

Compared to the sun-heated furnace of the sidewalk, the woods felt cool and moist. We ran over the rim of the ravine and down the side. At the bottom we stopped and sat on a log at the edge of the creek.

“I'm thinking of getting my hair cut,” Mary Ann said.

“Why?”

“It's getting too long,” she said, twisting a strand of her long, brown hair around her finger. “It's in the way.”

I shrugged. “Just tie it back with a rubber band the way you do when we play ball.”

Another long moment of silence went by.

“I think I'll get it cut,” she said.

“Okay. You can always grow it back if you don't like it.”

“That's what I was thinking.”

I took off my shoes, sat on the bank of the creek, and put my feet in the cool water.

“Feels good,” I said. “Take your shoes off.”

She joined me on the bank, slipped off her shoes, and dipped her feet in the water.

“Did you see the posters around school about the dance next Friday?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want to go?”

“No,” I said.

“It might be fun,” Mary Ann said. “My sister went to some of the dances at Truman and really liked them.”

“Well, no offense,” I said, “but your sister's different from us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she's more like the other girls in our class.”

Mary Ann frowned. “In what way?”

“You know,” I said. “She wears skirts and makeup.”

“What does that have to do with going to a school dance?” Mary Ann's voice was higher than usual.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just mean that Karen is more of a …” I paused.

“A what?”

“You know. A girly-girl.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. There's nothing wrong with my sister!”

“I didn't mean there's anything wrong with her,” I said. “But just because Karen liked the dances doesn't mean we'll like them.”

“I bet I'll like this dance,” Mary Ann said. “And I'm planning to go.”

“What's so great about a dance?” I said.

“Dancing, dummy!”

“But you've never danced before,” I said. “You don't even know how.”

“I don't have to know how,” she said. “You just move to the music. I've watched my sister and her friends.”

I slapped my feet on the surface of the water.

“Well, I'm not going to waste my time.”

“Suit yourself.” She got up and put on her shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said. “I've got some problems to do for math tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I said. I knew Mary Ann was ticked off at me, and I didn't like the feeling that gave me in my stomach. Why would she want to go to a stupid school dance? Anything would be more fun than that!

“I have to get my bike anyway,” I said. “It's supposed to be ready now.”

“Then we'll be riding to school tomorrow?” Mary Ann said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Meet you at the bridge over the ravine?”

“At seven thirty,” she said.

“Right,” I said. “I'm bringing my football, so no skirts.”

Mary Ann's jaw got tight. “Who died and made
you
boss?”

I didn't say anything.

She turned away. “I'm going home now. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Without waiting for me, she climbed up the side of the ravine and disappeared over the ridge.

It hadn't been one of my better days. A lot of crummy things had happened in the last nine hours: I'd started back to prison, my friends were suddenly acting like weird strangers, and now Mary Ann was mad at me.

So far, middle school was the pits.

5

At last, on the second day of school, we had the class I'd been waiting for: P.E. I love phys. ed. I mean, you get to spend the whole period playing baseball or flag football or some other game, and then you get a good grade for it. Who could ask for a better class?

Ms. Puff, our P.E. teacher, took roll while we sat on the floor in the gym. Ms. Puff wore white shorts and a pink shirt. We girls were dressed in whatever we'd worn to school that day. We'd brought the T-shirts and shorts that we'd wear during gym class.

The floor smelled of wax just like the gym floor at Washington Elementary always did during the first few weeks of school. It was polished, too, and shone so bright that Ms. Puff's image was reflected off the shiny surface.

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