Dogs Don't Tell Jokes (12 page)

“If it’s a disaster, then it’s a disaster,” he said again. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Besides,
how bad can it be?
”

It was time.

“Do you need to use the bathroom before you go?” asked his mother.

“No, I don’t have to use the bathroom!” he snapped. He was twelve years old, and his mother still asked him that.

She smiled at him. “You look very handsome,” she said. She sounded surprised.

He had chosen his outfit carefully. White shoes, white pants, navy-blue shirt, red suspenders, and the navy-blue homburg that he’d bought at the thrift store after school.

“The talent show isn’t until seven o’clock,” said his father. “Don’t you want any dinner?”

“All the contestants have to get there early,” Gary explained. “We need to go over our entrances, exits, how we want to be introduced, stuff like that.”

If he ate any dinner, he’d probably throw up.

“Well … see you there,” his mother said. Then she kissed him.

“Good luck,” said his father.

“Oh, Dad, I wanted to ask you something,” said Gary. “If there were three birds sitting on a bench, and I shot one, how many would be left?”

“Two.”

“Nope, just one,” said Gary, “The dead one. The other two would fly away!” He laughed. “Oh well, I guess I don’t get the hundred dollars now.” He was still laughing as he walked out the door.

He carried a grocery bag full of the props he’d need for his act. It was rolled up at the top so no one could see inside.

He had lied about having to get to school early. He went to Gus’s house.

“Wow, you look great!” Gus said when he opened the door.

Gary shrugged. He wished people would stop saying it like that. It made him wonder if most of the time he looked like a slob or something.

Gus’s house reminded Gary of a museum, or more precisely, a storage room in a museum. He looked around with awe at all the objets d’art that Gus had collected over his sixteen years as a garbageman: strange and bizarre lamps, vases, wall hangings, a painting of a dead fish, several road signs, a pirate’s head, a stuffed armadillo, a candle shaped like a lizard …

“Have I ever showed you my law school diploma?” asked Gus.

“You went to law school?”

“No, Kevin David Lally went to law school.”

Hanging next to a velvet painting of a sexy lady and her poodle was the dignified law school diploma of someone named Kevin David Lally.

“I wonder why someone would throw away a law school diploma,” said Gary.

Gus shrugged. “Why would anyone throw away such a great picture?”

Gary looked back at the painting of the lady
and the poodle. He wished the poodle would move just a little bit to the left.

“So, you really want to do this?” asked Gus.

Gary nodded. “You haven’t told anybody?” he asked.

“Are you kidding? And you better not either.”

“I won’t,” Gary promised. “Don’t you even want to know why?”

“I figure I’ll find out along with everyone else,” said Gus.

Gary took a deep breath.

“You’re sure?” asked Gus.

“One hundred percent,” said Gary.

Fifty-five minutes later, he was standing outside the door to the school auditorium holding his grocery bag full of props.

“So, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to go inside?” asked Mrs. Snitzberry.

He glanced at her. “Disaster is my middle name,” he said, then opened the door.

“Pigbubble is my middle name,” said Mrs. Snitzberry.

Gary walked down the aisle between the rows of folding chairs, empty now. Miss
Langley was up on stage, along with the custodian. Miss Langley appeared to be testing the microphone, but apparently it wasn’t working, because he couldn’t hear her.

He could see two other kids also on stage. Susan Smith was doing some warm-up exercises. Marsha Posey was holding a pair of roller skates. An old piano was off to the left.

Gary walked up the stairs on the side of the stage. There were several kids sitting on benches behind the purple plush curtain. Though the curtain was open, the benches still could not be seen from the auditorium.

Gary sat on a bench behind Julie Rose and Brenda Thompson. He set his paper bag under the bench. A red-haired boy whom Gary didn’t know was seated at the other end of the bench.

Gary watched Susan Smith in her black leotard raise one leg above her shoulder.

He stretched out his mouth, wiggled his jaw back and forth, and moved his tongue from side to side and in and out.

The boy with red hair looked at him, and Gary stopped his warm-up exercises. The boy was holding what appeared to be a program. Julie and Brenda also seemed to have programs.

“Where’d you get the program?” he asked the boy beside him.

The boy didn’t seem to hear him.

“At the back table,” said a girl who had sat down on the bench behind Gary. “You can have mine. I have an extra one.”

Gary turned around. The girl had short curly blond hair and wore braces. He recognized her from school, but he didn’t know her name.

She blushed. “I took two by accident. Here!” She shoved a program at him, then looked away, as if terribly embarrassed by the whole incident.

“I have to go first!” the red-haired boy complained. “I always have to go first. It’s because of my name, I know it!”

“Too bad,” said Gary, trying not to let on how glad he was that he wasn’t the one who had to go first.

He opened the program to the list of contestants.

Gary turned the page, but there were no more contestants listed. He checked again to make sure he hadn’t missed his name. “Where am I?” he shouted.

“In the school auditorium,” said the red-haired boy, who apparently was Fred Furst, the bird imitator.

“I’m not listed in the program!”

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be in it?” asked the girl with braces.

“Yes!”

“You weren’t at rehearsal,” said Fred Furst.

“What rehearsal?”

“After lunch today,” said the girl. “It wasn’t really a rehearsal. We just went over what we would do, how we wanted to be introduced, entrances and exits, stuff like that.”

“I didn’t know about it,” said Gary. “Nobody told me. Brenda!”

Both Julie and Brenda turned around. “What’s your problem?” asked Julie.

“I’m not in the program,” he told Brenda. “Did you ever tell Miss Langley that I wanted to be back in the talent show?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember, I told you I wanted to be back in the show, and you didn’t even know I quit? Well, I had quit, and you were supposed to put me back on the list.”

Brenda made a face. “Don’t blame me for your problems.”

He jumped up. “Miss Langley!”

She was talking to the principal, Mrs. Ward, at the other side of the stage. He went over to them and waited for a pause in their conversation, but Mrs. Ward never paused, so he just broke in. “Miss Langley!”

Both of them looked at him.

“My name’s not in the program.”

Miss Langley seemed to be thinking about something else, but managed to focus her attention on him. “Your name’s not in the program because you told me you wanted to quit the show.”

“But then I said I wanted back in.”

“And I told you to talk to Brenda Thompson.”

“I did! But she didn’t realize I’d quit, so she didn’t do anything to put me back in.”

Miss Langley sighed. “Why weren’t you at the rehearsal this afternoon?”

“I didn’t know about it.”

Miss Langley shook her head. “Well, I can’t do anything about it now. The programs are all printed. I’m afraid it’s too late.”

“But—”

I’m sorry, Gary, I’ve got a million things to do.” She resumed her conversation with Mrs. Ward about the opening address Mrs. Ward would be giving.

Gary spotted Joe coming into the auditorium, along with Matt, Ryan, and Paul.

“Joe!” called Gary. He jumped off the stage. “Joe. You got to help me!”

Joe put his hands up. “Whoa,” he said. “Get
a grip, Goon.” He looked Gary up and down. “Nice uni.”

“Huh?”

“He likes your clothes, Goon,” said Matt. “Your uniform.”

“So what seems to be the problem?” asked Joe.

Gary took a breath, then went through it again. “Okay, I was going to be in the show, right? You know that. That’s why I didn’t play football. But I told Miss Langley I wanted to quit, but then I told her I wanted to be back in, but she said to talk to Brenda Thompson, so I talked to Brenda, but she didn’t even know I ever quit, so she didn’t put me back on the list, and now Miss Langley says it’s too late.”

“Okay, okay,” said Joe. “Just chill out. I’ll go have a chat with Nancy.”

“Nancy?” asked Gary.

“Nancy Langley,” said Matt.

Gary returned to his seat next to Fred Furst while Joe talked to Miss Langley.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Why is it always me?” he asked.

His parents were going to be there, and Abel, Gus, Mr. Bone, and that kid Mr. Bone was bringing to run the video camera. Now what was that kid going to think?

Ryan came up alongside him. “Your butt better be in the show,” he said.

Julie turned around and made a face at Ryan. “Every other word you say is ‘butt.’ ”

“So?” asked Ryan. “What’s wrong with that?”

Joe returned, thumbs up. “You’re in, Goon.”

Gary could hardly believe it.

“Nancy didn’t mean it was too late for you to be in the show. She just meant it was too late to be in the program.”

“I hope he’s first,” said Fred Furst.

“Sorry, Freddy boy,” said Joe. “Last.”

“That’s okay,
Joey boy
,” Fred said snidely.

Miss Langley came by a short while later and asked Gary how he wanted to be introduced.

“Just my name, Gary W. Boone.”

“And you’re going to tell jokes, right?”

He nodded.

“I hope you don’t need any props.”

“Got everything right here,” he said, kicking his paper bag.

“No special lighting or anything?”

“Nope.”

Miss Langley shook her head, then smiled. “Why is it always you?”

He shrugged.

The auditorium filled with people, kids and adults. Every chair was occupied, and people were standing along the back and side walls. Gary and the other contestants waited on benches just off stage.

Miss Langley welcomed everyone to the talent show. “Before I introduce Mrs. Ward, I have an announcement. One of our very talented students has inadvertently been left off the program. The final contestant will be Gary W. Boone.”

From the left side of the room, about halfway back, Melissa, Abel, and Gus cheered and whistled loudly.

Everyone spoke together. “I pledge allegiance to the …”

“Hey, Goon!” Joe whispered sharply. “Take off your hat!”

Gary pretended not to hear him.

“… of America and to the republic …”

“Take off your hat, Goon!” whispered Matt.

“No!” he whispered back, one hand on his heart, the other on his hat.

“… one nation, under …”

“Show some respect, Goon!” whispered Joe.

“He doesn’t have to,” said Fred Furst.

“… with liberty and …”

Julie Rose turned around. “Don’t you love America?”

“Sure, I love America,” said Gary. “I just don’t want to take off my hat.”

“There’s no law saying you have to take off your hat for the Pledge of Allegiance,” said Fred Furst. “In fact, you don’t have to say the Pledge if you don’t want to. What’s the matter? Don’t you believe in freedom of speech?”