Help! Somebody Get Me Out of Fourth Grade (4 page)

I swallowed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one gulp, without even tasting it.

“Man, are you ever grumpified,” Frankie said.

“I know I'm in a bad mood,” I answered, “and I have every right to be. Wouldn't you be if someone told you that you were going to spend the next year in fourth grade AGAIN?”

“You don't know if that's true for sure, Zip.”

“Correction.
You
don't know for sure.
Ashley
doesn't know for sure. Her tropical fish don't know for sure. But oh, yes . . .
I
know for sure!” I hated the sound of my own voice, but I couldn't help it. I was mad.

Ashley's grandma came to the table, picked up the platter of wontons, and offered me one. She said something in Chinese, which I couldn't understand, but after she said it, Ashley burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“She said if you eat something crunchy, you won't be so grumpy.”

“Fine,” I said. “If it makes everybody here feel better, I'll eat a wonton. In fact, I'll eat the whole plate of them.”

I reached out and grabbed a wonton like an eagle swooping down to catch a fish. Without even thinking, I swirled it around in the mustard and popped the entire thing into my mouth.

“Is everybody happy now?” I said with my mouth full.

Ashley, Frankie, and Grandma Wong just stared at me.

“Not crunchy enough for you?” I said. “Great, watch this!”

I grabbed another one, dragged it through the mustard, and popped it into my mouth. I looked like a chipmunk with a wonton in each cheek.

And then the mustard kicked in and exploded like a crazed pinball inside my mouth. Up my nose, around my eyes, and into my brain it spun. Wham! Pow! I felt like all the hairs on my head were standing straight up and about to take off into space like mini-rockets. I let out a yell that was so loud it probably shattered the glass windows in Mr. Anthony's Dry Cleaners three blocks away.

“Zowee!” I shouted. “Zowee . . . wowee . . . kabowee!” Which in case you don't speak my language means, “Ouch!!!! My tongue is on fire!”

I had to do something about the flames in my mouth. After hopping around like a crazed jumping bean, I pulled my chair over to the freezer and jumped up on the chair so I was tall enough to open the freezer door. I yanked it open and stuck my head inside, flopping my burning tongue onto a carton of Mint Chip Häagen-Dazs, where it stuck like glue. Now my tongue was burning hot and cold at the same time.

Grandma Wong was shouting commands at me, but they were in Chinese, so I couldn't follow them.

“She says get some plain bread,” Ashley translated.

“Tong schtuck,” I answered, shaking my head at Ashley.

“Hank, I can't understand you.”

I pointed to my tongue, which was stuck to the half gallon of ice cream.

“Tong schtuck!” I said even louder this time. In case you're laughing right now, let me just ask you to try talking clearly when you have a carton of ice cream hanging off your tongue. It's not easy.

Frankie came to the freezer and picked up the Häagen-Dazs container with my tongue attached. He took us both to the sink, Mr. Häagen-Dazs and me. When we got there, he took a glass of water and poured it along the side of the container. I could feel my tongue peel off the container, little by little.

“Breathe, Zip,” said Frankie. “Your tongue needs oxygen.”

I took his advice and breathed deeply. Wow. Was my nose ever clear. It was so open that a 747 jet could have flown straight up into it and done back loops.

“Hank, you've got to try to calm down.” Ashley gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You've gotten yourself into a total twist.”

“All I can think about is that parent-teacher conference,” I said. “I keep seeing Ms. Adolf sitting there telling my mom and dad that I have to repeat fourth grade.”

Just the thought of that scene made me feel like reaching for another fried wonton.

“Don't go there, Zip,” Frankie said, putting his hand out to stop me. “Let's be reasonable about this.”

“What's the worst thing that could happen?” Ashley said. “Your parents go to the teacher conference and sit down with Ms. Adolf and hear a little bad news.”

“Yeah, that,” I answered. “That's the worst thing that could happen.”

“You can't stop it, Hank,” Ashley said with a deep sigh. “It's a parent-teacher conference. Everyone has one.”

“I wish I could think of some way to stop them from meeting,” I said. “If my parents never meet with Ms. Adolf, they'll never know there's a problem. And then, before you know it, summer will be here, and then I'll just slide into fifth grade with everyone else.”

“Zengawii,”
Frankie said. “Just like magic.”

Frankie is a great magician, and zengawii is his special magic word. He uses it to make spongy rubber balls disappear or to pull scarves out of his sleeve. Boy, how I wished it would work to make my parent-teacher conference disappear.

Ashley twirled her ponytail around her finger, like she does when she's thinking.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Why don't you just say: Hey, Mom and Dad, would you mind skipping that meeting with my teacher? Just do it for me, would you?”

“I could ask them,” I said. “It could work.”

“Right, and my name is Bernice,” Frankie answered.

“Come on, Frankie,” Ashley said, popping a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into her mouth. “Let's put our heads into this. The three of us can think of some way to keep Hank's parents from meeting with Ms. Adolf.”

“We could spray Ms. Adolf with invisible ink,” I said. “Then she'd disappear, and when my parents go to the meeting, all they'd see is an empty chair.”

“Okay, dude,” Frankie said. “It's finally happened. You've seen one too many action cartoons.”

Okay, I had to give him that. The invisible ink idea was lame. I shoved my brain into action. I stared at the window above the kitchen sink. A teapot sat on the windowsill. Ashley's family always has tea with their dinner. I like that. It feels warm and comforting.

Man, it was quiet in there.

No, it wasn't.

In the silence, I became aware that the radio was on. It had been on the whole time. We always listen to Cousin Ralphie's
Top Forty Hour
on WFUN, ninety-nine point ten on your radio dial.

And believe it or not, it was Cousin Ralphie who had the idea that was going to save my life.

“Cousin Ralphie!” I shouted, springing up from Ashley's bright red kitchen table. “I know you can't hear me, but you're the man, and I'm your biggest fan!”

I DROPPED to the kitchen floor and started rolling around on Ashley's pink-and-white speckled linoleum. It's a good thing Grandma Wong had left the kitchen to watch the one show that she never misses during the day,
SpongeBob SquarePants
. I know it might seem weird for a seventy-six-year-old lady from Canton to love SpongeBob, but some things you just can't explain. SpongeBob tickles her funny bone.

“Zip, are your pants on fire, or have you just totally lost your mind?” Frankie asked.

“My mind is on fire,” I answered. “Cousin Ralphie just delivered the answer to all my problems.”

“I don't get it,” Ashley said. “All he said was the fifteenth caller who can name ten American cities with the word
rock
in them wins a trip to Philadelphia for the opening concert of Stone Cold Rock.”

“True, Ash, but you're leaving out the most important point. The date.”

“May 24 and 25,” Frankie said. “What's the big deal about that?”

“Frankie, my man,” I said, getting up from the floor. “When exactly are the fourth-grade parent-teacher conferences?”

“This Friday. Today is Tuesday. So what's that make Friday? May . . .”

“How does the 25th sound?” I asked, grinning like a mouse that had just eaten a giant piece of Swiss cheese.

“Okay,” Ashley said. “So Stone Cold Rock is opening the same time as the parent-teacher conferences. How does that help you?”

“Guess who's going to win the contest and send his parents to the opening?” I said.

“Where did Cousin Ralphie say the concert was?” Ashley asked.

“Philadelphia,” I said. “And even though I'm not a geography expert, let me point out one thing: People who are in Philadelphia cannot be in New York attending a parent-teacher conference. It's a known fact.”

“Zip, this plan might actually have possibilities,” Frankie said. That was a big compliment coming from him, because Frankie is a plan-making genius.

“Philadelphia, City of Brotherly Love!” I hollered, drumming out a beat on Ashley's kitchen table. “Roll out the welcome mat because here come Stan and Randi Zipzer.”

Ashley went into action as only she can do. When there's something that has to get done, you want Ashley Wong to be in charge. She's all business.

“What caller did Cousin Ralphie say would get a chance to win the contest?” she asked.

“I think he said the fifteenth.”

She turned the radio up loud.

“That was the third caller,” Cousin Ralphie announced. “Let's take a break and hear from the good folks at Gristediano's Market, where the shelves are full and that's no bull.”

“We've got to move fast,” Ashley said. She grabbed a piece of paper from the counter and picked up a pencil.

“I need ten cities with the word
rock
in them,” she said. “Quick.”

“Little Rock, Arkansas,” Frankie said.

“That's one,” Ashley said, writing it down at the top of the list.

“Come on, guys,” I said. “Only nine more to go.”

“What about Rockville Centre, Long Island?” Ashley said.

“Excellent,” I said. “Write it down. Only eight more.”

My friends know that when it comes to writing things down fast, they'd better not count on me to write it down accurately. I'm not exactly Mr. Accurate.

There was a pause. I noticed that we were all being silent. I wasn't liking the silence. I looked over at Frankie.

“Name a couple more,” I coaxed him.

“I'm all out, man,” he said, shaking his head. “No ideas.”

“Me either,” Ashley said.

“There's only person we know who can spit out eight cities with the word
rock
in them, and I think we all know who I'm talking about,” I announced.

I was thinking, of course, of Robert Upchurch, who hibernates in his apartment on the third floor of our building—that is, when he's not hanging out with my nerdball sister. Even though he is only a third-grader, Robert is a walking encyclopedia. That kid has so much information crammed into his bony little skull, sometimes I think he has a computer for a brain.

Frankie, Ashley, and I try to keep our distance from Robert, because he wants to be our best friend. When you least expect it, he wakes up from hibernation and attaches himself to you like a garden snail. He's that slimy, too. His nose produces more mucus than all the noses in the entire state of Louisiana. For his birthday, his mom buys him a crate of Kleenex, and he needs another crate by Christmas. He's got slightly used, super-absorbent Kleenex wadded up in every pocket of his clothes, and don't even ask what's living in the little compartments of his backpack.

Robert's best friend happens to be my sister, Emily, who doesn't seem to mind his leaky nasal faucet. That's because she is queen of the nerds herself. They both love her pet iguana, Katherine, and can spend hours discussing the different feel of lizard skin in all four seasons.

“Dude,” Frankie said. “This is a serious decision. We go get Robert, and he's going to think we want to be best friends. We'll never shake him.”

“Guys, do we have a choice?” Ashley asked. “No, we don't. They're probably on the fifth caller. Let's get Robert now.”

“He's in my apartment, hanging out with Emily,” I said. “I'll call him.”

I dialed my number. It rang four times. Then I heard my sister's voice on our answering machine.

“This is the Zipzer residence, home of Stan, Randi, Hank, Emily, and Katherine Zipzer. Please leave a message and the name of your favorite reptile at the beep.”

“Hank Zipzer,” I said into the phone. “And I don't have a favorite reptile. I think they're all scaly and creepy.”

I hung up.

“So they're not home?” Ashley asked. “I thought you said Robert was there.”