Amber Brown Goes Fourth (7 page)

It also gets Brandi a day of detention.

The more I try not to laugh, the more I do.

I just can’t stop.

Brandi can’t either.

The teacher gets very annoyed.

I get a third day of detention, and then a fourth.

Brandi gets a second and third day of detention.

I sit there thinking about my FOUR days of detention.

Once more, Amber Brown Goes Fourth.

“Burp.”

“Burp.”

“Burp.”

“Burp.”

Then there’s a moment of silence.

“Forty. . . . . Don’t stop now.” Jimmy and Bobby cheer for Fredrich. “You’re almost there . . . . just three more and you’ll beat the record.”

“No more.” Fredrich pounds his chest. “There’s nothing left. I’m too pooped to burp.”

“Next,” Jimmy calls out, holding up the mermaid. “Who is going to be next? Who is going to win this beauteous mermaid?”

I look at the mermaid—blonde hair, blue plastic body and tail. She has a jewel in her stomach.

Jimmy touches the mermaid’s jewel and this weird music comes out.

The mermaid is so ugly.

The music is so out of tune.

I want that mermaid.

I raise my hand.

“Amber Brown,” Jimmy calls out. “It’s your turn.”

I walk up.

And burp.

And burp.

And burp.

Naomi and Alicia start doing burp cheers for me.

Twenty-nine burps . . . . not enough, but I’m getting better.

Yesterday it was twenty-six.

“You’re such a lady. . . . NOT,” Hannah sneers at me.

I say, “Thank you.”

“Immature baby,” she adds.

I curtsy.

“Gas bag,” she says.

I burp at Hannah.

Just one burp . . . . . but it’s a good one.

Hannah walks away.

“Round fifteen to Amber.” Gregory is keeping track.

The burping competition ends for the day.

Only one more week until someone wins the mermaid.

Brandi is standing nearby.

I look at her and smile.

Brandi comes up to me, grins, and raises one eyebrow. “Good work, Amber. You may just become Burp Queen of the fourth grade.”

I grin back. “Thank you, but it’s going to be hard to win. I’m not allowed to practice in Elementary Extension or in detention and my mom has outlawed burping in the house. She says it’s disgusting and she got mad when I burped at her instead of saying hello. I need more practice to win the mermaid.”

“Her Burpness.” Brandi giggles and then says, “You know, if I could burp not by accident, I would join the competition. I really like that dumb mermaid, too.”

I think for a minute and then say, “Listen. If I win her, we can share custody. I’ll keep
her one week and you get her the next.”

Brandi looks at me. “That’s really nice of you.”

I smile.

She says nothing, looking like she’s making a big decision, and then says, “Listen. You can come to my house after school to practice. I’ll be your burp coach . . . and I’ll even braid your hair, if you would like.”

“I would like.” I grin a humongous grin.

“We’ll tell our moms tonight and then you can come over tomorrow,” she says.

I can’t wait.

Thanks for writing to me.

I wish you were here. (You probably wouldn’t like being here because I’m in detention . . . which I got because I kind of lost my head in Elementary Extension.)

Oh, I added the used gum you mailed me to our gum ball. It was a good idea to put a wet paper towel around it and put it in a baggie (it did leak a little).

I’ll keep adding to the ball too. I just wish that you could add the gum yourself.

I also wish your handwriting was better.

I wish to ask you a few questions about your new school’s lunch menus (since it’s so hard to read your handwriting):

Do they serve worm rolls? Or warm rolls?

Did you really have to eat pimpled feets? Or was it pickled beets? (Either one sounds really gross!)

Do the kids at your school really call the cafeteria hamburger that? Wow!

I have another question. . . . Do they teach penmanship at your new school?

I have another question. Since you are living down south now, are you going to start talking funny? Are you going to think that I talk funny?

It’s too bad you aren’t here. Jimmy and Bobby are having a burping contest!!!! You should see the prize!!!!!!

Well . . . . here’s some more news:

1. My mother’s going out with this guy named Max. Secretly, I think of him as Min . . . . . like in minimum. I haven’t met him yet . . . . and I really don’t want to meet him either.

2. I wish my father would move back.

3. You, too. . . .

4. I’ve learned to snap my fingers.

5. Oh, you know what? I’m becoming friends with Brandi Colwin. She’s really nice. . . . You’d like her.

“Brandi,” the Elementary Extension teacher says sweetly, “your mother is here to pick up you and Amber.”

It’s interesting how some teachers get this really sweet voice when parents are around.

I’m so glad that Mrs. Holt uses her sweet voice with her students, not just with the parents.

As we grab our books, I whisper to Brandi, “I hope your mom is very strong.”

“Why?” she whispers back.

“Well, she’s PICKING us up.” I grin.

We both start to laugh . . . . . a lot, but we don’t get detention. . . . I think that’s because Mrs. Colwin is standing there waiting . . . . . or maybe the teacher is in a better mood.

I know that I’m in a great mood.

Not only am I going over to Brandi’s house, but I’m getting my hair braided.

It’s going to be Amber Brown’s new look.

“Want to see something really gross?” Brandi giggles as we sit in her bedroom.

I nod.

She goes over to her dresser, opens the top drawer, and pulls out a roll of six-foot-long bubble-gum tape.