Summer School! What Genius Thought That Up? (9 page)

When the first eleven reasons didn't work, I even added a twelfth. I told him it would make Cheerio so happy to see me at the luau. I figured maybe my dad could say no to me but not to our family dog, for heaven's sake.

And you know what?

Nothing worked.

You heard me. Nothing. Nada.

All Stan the Man said was, “The requirement was an A, Hank. You can do it if you try.”

Thanks, Dad. No pressure there.

THE NEXT MORNING, Frankie was full of energy as his dad walked us to school. Too full of energy, if you ask me. He was making me more nervous than I already was.

“So what time is your report?” he asked with a mouthful of chocolate donut.

“I don't know, sometime after lunch.”

“You can't be late, Zip. We go on first in the talent show.”

“My dad promised he'd be there when school lets out. If Mr. Rock gives him good news, I'll be at the talent show.”

“And if not?” Frankie stuffed the rest of his donut into his mouth all at once. “Maybe we should have had a backup plan.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” I said.

“You're right, my man. It's all about confidence. You'll be there. Won't he, Ashweena?”

Ashley wasn't listening. She was busy hopping over puddles made by the street-cleaning truck to make sure she didn't get her costume dirty. Frankie and I were carrying our costumes in grocery bags. His mom was going to bring everyone's sleeping bags later. Ashley was wearing her costume. She had worked hard on it, and she wanted to show off her colorful rhinestone work.

We headed down one block east on 78th Street where our school is. The Junior Explorers were already gathering in front. Most of the kids were dressed in their luau costumes. Nick McKelty was wearing these horrible purple and orange flowered swimming trunks and flip-flops as big as the Brooklyn Bridge. I don't mean to gross you out, but his toenails were as long and as snaggly as his front teeth.

Miss Cell Phone Joelle was there, too, wearing a bright pink leotard with weird, brightly colored shapes painted all over it. I'm no leotard expert, but if those are the kind she designs, I'm not seeing a million dollars in her future.

I could see her checking out Ashley's costume as we walked up. “Eeuuww, rhinestones,” she said to Ashley. “That is so a year-and-a-half ago!”

I wanted to tell her what I thought of her stupid outfit, but my friend Ashley Wong has quite a mouth on her, and she can take care of herself.

“I'm so sorry about your leotard,” Ashley said to her. “It looks like you must have spilled paint on it.”

“I made this design myself,” Joelle said. “For your information, these are birds of paradise, a native Hawaiian bird.”

“For your information, the birds of paradise in Hawaii are flowers, not actual birdies, Miss Bird Brain,” Ashley said.

Emily and Robert were waiting on the front steps with the other Junior Explorers. Emily had insisted that my mom walk them to school early so Bruce the Gecko could get used to the environment. She didn't want him to stress out—she was concerned about his mental state. If you ask me, she should be concerned about her own mental state, which I would describe as totally weird and scaly.

Robert was leaning over Bruce's plastic box, talking to him. I wonder what you would say to a gecko, anyway?

Robert was wearing swimming trunks and a white tank top. It occurred to me that I had never seen his arms before. They looked like toothpaste that had squirted out of the tube, all squiggly. Bruce the Gecko was probably staring up at Robert, shaking like the leaf of lettuce he was standing on. Could you blame him? If you saw Robert Upchurch in swimming trunks and a tank top that was two sizes too big, you'd shake like a leaf of lettuce, too.

“Hank! Mommy, it's Hank!”

I turned around to see Mason running down the street at full speed. He was waving his arms and shouting my name. When he reached me, he threw himself full force into my kneecaps.

“Hey, Mason. What's up?” I said.

“I have peanut butter for lunch.”

“Good for you. Peanut butter rocks, dude.”

Mason's mom came running up after him. I assumed it was his mom because she had red curly hair just like his.

“You must be Hank,” she said, putting out her hand to shake mine. “Mason talks about you all the time.”

“He's a cool kid,” I said.

“What's in your grocery bag?” Mason asked me. “Can I see?”

“It's my Einstein costume,” I said. “Today is my report.”

“Can I come?”

“I'll ask your teacher if it's okay,” Mason's mom told him. “That is, if it's all right with you, Hank.”

“Sure. I just hope I don't mess it up.”

“Oh, I'm sure you won't,” Mason's mom said. “Last night at dinner Mason told us all about Albert Einstein and said you taught him everything. You must be a very intelligent young man.”

Nick McKelty was standing nearby, and that was all he needed to hear.

“That's a hoot!” he said. “Zipper Zitt is a first-class moron. He's so stupid, he had to go to summer school.”

Mason's mother wheeled around and stared McKelty right in the eye.

“Perhaps one day you'll learn to be as kind as Hank is,” she said.

I looked at McKelty to see what he was going to do. It's one thing to talk back to a kid. It's another thing to open up a mouth to an adult. I could see his big, slow brain grinding away, trying to make a decision and finally grinding to a halt.

Ms. Adolf appeared on the steps, clapping her hands three times. She was wearing her gray shirt with the coconut bikini top over it. This time, it didn't even surprise me to see her dressed like that. It's amazing what the human brain can get used to.

“Aloha and welcome to our luau extravaganza and sleepover, pupils,” she said. “I am disappointed to have to tell you that Principal Love can't be with us today. He threw his back out while doing the limbo.”

Everyone just stared at her, trying to picture short Principal Love bent over backward, inching his way under a broomstick.

“However, I am happy to report that I will be filling his shoes and leading the festivities this afternoon.”

Everyone groaned.

“And what was that? A group groan? Now all Junior Explorers will follow me to the Hawaiian Islands,” she said. “Summer-schoolers, to your classrooms.”

Mason's mom took his hand and started into the building, but then she stopped and turned to me.

“What time is your report, Hank?” she asked.

“After lunch.”

“I'll try to arrange for Mason to come,” she said.

“Goody!” Mason shouted, starting to jump up and down like a monkey on a trampoline. “Goody gumdrops! Blue ones!”

I think you know what I'm going to say. The thirteenth cutest thing about kindergartners is that they say stuff like “goody gumdrops” and “silly willy” and “noodle nose,” and they don't worry that anyone's going to make fun of them.

As I started in for class, I felt Frankie's hand on my shoulder.

“Listen, you're going to be great,” he said. “Just focus, Zip. Be Albert Einstein. Keep your head in the game, Hank.”

“We're counting on you,” Ashley said.

“King Kahuna Huna will do as he is told,” I said. “Count on it.”

I sounded really confident. I just wished I felt that way, too.

I SPENT THE WHOLE MORNING reviewing my notes in class. I read those index cards over and over until I knew every word. I was ready.

A few kids did their reports before lunch. Lauren, the fifth-grader, picked a famous opera singer named Marian Anderson and actually sang her whole report. Joelle made fun of her and called her a squeak box, but I thought she had a really pretty voice and was very brave to sing her report. Mr. Rock shouted bravo and said it was a spectacular performance. Of course, he is the music teacher.

Luke Whitman went next. He did his report on his uncle Wayne, who is a professional juggler in a traveling circus in Indiana. Luke told us that his uncle specializes in juggling lawn mowers and light farm equipment. Unfortunately, when Luke tried to do a juggling demonstration using cantaloupes, he dropped them and they cracked open and splattered all across the floor. Mr. Rock didn't even get mad. He said it was a quick way to make fruit salad. While Luke was cleaning up the mess, good old Joelle put up her hand and asked Luke if Uncle Wayne ever needed any new leotards to wear in his act. Luke told her he was a lawn mower juggler not a ballet dancer, and Joelle stuck her tongue out at him. I won't even tell you what he did back to her, but it involved his finger and his nose.

After lunch I asked Mr. Rock if it was okay if I missed Salvatore's report so I could go to the bathroom and prepare for mine. I knew that Salvatore was talking about Derek Jeter, who plays for the Yankees, and his report would just get me riled up anyway because I'm such a huge Mets fan.

I went into the bathroom with my grocery bag and lined my stuff up along the sink counter. I changed into a black T-shirt and put the collar with the floppy bow tie over it. Then I put on a suit jacket that I had worn to my cousin's wedding last year. I was wearing shorts on the bottom, and that did look a little strange.

Too bad I hadn't thought to bring long pants. But when I looked in the mirror, I thought,
Yeah, Hank, you look like a German scientist . . . from the neck down and waist up, anyway.

Next it was time for the wig and the mustache. I carefully took the bottle of spirit gum out of its plastic package. Big Eddie had told me to paint a little of it on my upper lip and then wait a minute for it to get sticky before putting on the mustache. While I was waiting for it to dry, I put on the wig. Wow, it was a lot of hair. You couldn't even see my face. I looked like a copy of a Neanderthal man I saw once in a diorama at the Museum of Natural History. I pulled the wig back on my head and yanked it right off. There I was, staring at me again in the mirror.

I decided to put a little of the spirit gum at my temples and over my ears. Not too much. Just enough to hold the wig on.

I touched my upper lip, and it was pretty sticky. Man, that spirit gum was strong. I took the mustache out of its little plastic case and stuck it above my lip. It looked like a huge, furry caterpillar had gotten loose and was crawling under my nose. It tickled too, but I didn't dare rub it, or it would get all crooked on me.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

“Hello, Hankie,” I said to myself in the mirror. “I am zee grandfazzer of zee science vorld.”

I started laughing, but it was hard because my upper lip was stiff from the spirit gum.

I wiped the grin off my face and picked up the wig. Bending over, I shoved my head into it and held the sides down where I had put the spirit gum on my temples. I looked up and there he was, Albert himself. Hair flying, mustache glued, bow tie covering my Adam's apple.

I smiled a little. This was going to be great. All I had to do was clean up, get back to class, and get my A.

I picked up the bottle of spirit gum and was just about to twist the cap back on when the door flew open.

“Hank! It's me!”

Mason came charging full speed at me like a galloping pony, flinging himself into my kneecaps. Oooooph! The bottle of spirit gum went flying into the air and as I reached to catch it, it turned upside down. Spirit gum oozed out all over my hands.

“Oh, no!” I screamed.

“I'm sorry, Hank,” Mason said.

Before I could answer him, the door flew open again. It was Luke Whitman.

“Come on, Hank. Salvatore is done, and we're all waiting for you. Mr. Rock wants you to come right this second.”

I RAN TOWARD THE CLASSROOM, giving my hands a quick wipe on the back of my shorts. Mason followed behind. All the kids were waiting for me as I bolted into class. Before I could even try to explain what had happened with the spirit gum, Mr. Rock took one look at me and burst into applause. For a second, I wondered why he was clapping. Then I remembered that I was wearing my costume.

“Ladies and gentleman, let's give a warm welcome to Albert Einstein, twentieth-century genius and man of science,” he said.

“And man of ugly hair,” Joelle called out. “You'd think he would've invented the brush.”

Everyone laughed.

“I don't like her,” Mason whispered to me.

“That makes two of us,” I whispered back.

Mr. Rock pulled up a chair for Mason and took a seat next to him.

“Go ahead, Albert,” he said. “Tell us all about yourself.”

I took my place in front of the class and pulled out the note cards from my pocket.

The information was right there in front of me. All I had to do was erase the spirit gum spill from my mind. I took a deep breath and began.

“I vas born in Germany in zee year of 1879. Mine mothzzer vas Pauline, and mine farzzer vas Hermann.”