Summer School! What Genius Thought That Up?

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GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2005 by Fair Dinkum and Lin Oliver Productions, Inc. Illustrations copyright © 2005 by Grosset & Dunlap. All rights reserved.

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eISBN : 978-1-101-09777-9

“DISGUSTING!” I groaned to my sister, Emily. “Get your lizard out of the cream cheese. She's leaving claw marks.”

“Blueberry cream cheese happens to be Katherine's favorite,” Emily said. “She loves the berry chunks.”

We were standing in the middle of the Crunchy Pickle, the deli our family owns on the Upper West Side of New York. Correction. Emily and I were standing in the middle of the deli. Katherine, Emily's pet iguana, was standing in the middle of the cream-cheese bowl. She was perched on top of one of the booth tables, snapping up cream cheese from the smoked fish platter with her long, gray, bumpy tongue. A blob of blueberry cream cheese hung off her snout. It looked like an iguana pimple.

“Reptiles are not allowed in restaurants,” I said. “It's against the law.”

“Says who?” Emily wanted to know.

“Says me and the entire health department of the city of New York,” I answered.

Sometimes I wonder about Emily. I mean, what was she thinking, bringing Katherine here, tonight of all nights? We were having a big celebration, a party my mom throws every year that she calls “Beat the Heat with Deli Meat.” It's a kick-off bash to get summer business started. The Crunchy Pickle was full of people, mostly friends and neighbors, who came to sample the food. There was barely room for all the people, let alone a cream-cheese-scarfing iguana.

“Sorry, Katherine old girl, party's over,” I said, picking up the bowl of blueberry cream cheese and moving it away from her snout. Katherine hissed at me, whipping her tongue out so far that it actually touched my hand.

Robert Upchurch, third-grade nerd and geek pal to my sister, came charging to her rescue. He's a lizard lover just like Emily. He put his bony hand on my shoulder and looked me dead in the eye. He cleared his throat before he spoke. Then he cleared it again. Then one more time to get that last little bit of gunk out. As if you couldn't tell, Robert has a major mucous problem.

“Actually, Hank, I think it's lovely that Emily invited Katherine,” he said.

Did he say
lovely
? What third-grader says anything is
lovely
? Lovely is a total grandma word. Something our neighbor Mrs. Fink—who I noticed was at the buffet table doing some serious damage to the hummus dip—might say. As in “Look, Hank, what
lovely
manners your sister has” or “That little beige sweater looks so
lovely
on you.”

Robert took out a Kleenex from the little pack he keeps in the pocket of his white collared shirt. I wondered what else he keeps in there.

Robert blew his nose. This was no regular blow. It was a real honker. The only good thing about it was that it required Robert to take his bony hand off my shoulder.

“Katherine is not leaving, Hank,” Emily said. “This is a family celebration. And Katherine is part of our family.”

“I agree,” Robert chimed in.

I was going to have to set my little sister and her congested boyfriend straight.

“Number One,” I said, “this is not a family celebration. This is ‘Beat the Heat with Deli Meat' night, which is a business event, not a family celebration.”

I don't think Katherine liked my tone of voice. She let out another nasty hiss and rolled one of her creepy eyes in my general direction.

“And Number Two,” I continued, “Katherine is not a member of our family. She is a lower life-form who can't digest cabbage.”

“Actually, it's true that cabbage gives iguanas gas buildup,” Robert said. “And then they eventually explode. A horrible thought.”

“Thanks for the useful info, Robert,” I said. “I'll remember that.”

“Now you understand why I find Robert so fascinating,” Emily said, flashing Robert her ickiest smile.

Fascinating? Robots are fascinating. The Mets team statistics are fascinating. But Robert Upchurch, nose-blower and fact-spewer, is not—I repeat—NOT fascinating.

“And another reason Katherine is not a family member,” I added, “is because we only happen to have humans in the Zipzer family.”

“Then how did you get in?” Emily shot back. Ouch! You attack that girl's iguana and she goes for the throat.

Emily stuck her tongue out at me. I stuck out my tongue right back at her. Okay, I know it's not the most mature thing for an almost eleven-year-old guy to do. But Emily is almost ten, and I didn't notice her tongue being on a leash.

Papa Pete came up to us from behind the pastrami counter, where he had been making sandwiches. He's our grandfather, and he used to own the Crunchy Pickle. He's so nice! You want to hug him every time you see him.

Papa Pete could tell that we weren't exactly having a kissy-face brother-sister moment. It must have been our tongues sticking out that gave it away.

“What seems to be the problem, my darling grandchildren?” Papa Pete said, giving Emily's cheek a pinch with his big, plump fingers.

“Hank says Katherine can't be in here,” Emily said.

“In this particular case, Hank is correct,” Papa Pete said. “Animals and/or lizards are not allowed in restaurants.”

Emily pouted and stuck her arm out toward Katherine.

“Climb up to Mama,” she said, trying to sound really pathetic. She was doing a good job of it, too.

Katherine climbed up Emily's arm, digging her little claws into Emily's pink sweater until she made it all the way up to Emily's shoulder. Emily leaned over and rubbed Katherine's snout with her cheek.

“It's okay, Kathy,” she whispered in her baby voice. “I still love you.”

“Tell you what,” Papa Pete said. “Hand Katherine to me, and I'll take her back to the apartment. Then you kids can stay here and have a good time.”

Didn't I tell you Papa Pete was the greatest grandpa in the world? He was willing to leave the party just so Emily wouldn't have to. He lifted Katherine off Emily's sweater and gave her a little pat on the snout. Usually, that makes Katherine hiss, but instead she just settled into Papa Pete's big hand. Even that nasty-tempered iguana has to love Papa Pete.

“Why doesn't Emily take Katherine home herself?” I asked Papa Pete.

“Because Emily is a nine-year-old who isn't going walking by herself at night,” Papa Pete said.

“It's not fair, Papa Pete. You shouldn't have to leave the party.”

“Trust me, Hankie. It's my pleasure. Mrs. Fink keeps trying to feed me hummus dip. What does she think I am, a baby? I need a break.”

You already know that Mrs. Fink is our next-door neighbor. But there are two other things you should know about her. One is that she has a crush on Papa Pete. The other is that she has removable teeth. Both of these facts are probably the reason that Papa Pete was willing to leave the party. As a matter of fact, he grabbed Katherine and was out the door so quickly, I thought I saw a trail of smoke coming from under his heels.

As Papa Pete raced out the door onto Broadway, he almost knocked down Frankie and Ashley, who were just running in ahead of Frankie's dad. Frankie Townsend is my best friend, and Ashley Wong is my other best friend.

“Are we too late?” Ashley asked me. She stopped to catch her breath.

“I hope we didn't miss the Invent Your Own Sandwich Contest,” Frankie said. “I've got a real winner.”