The Squirting Donuts (4 page)

“No. It wasn't fun. It was wrong. And we still don't know why Mrs. Cakel got weird, you know, nice.”

I look at my watch.

“I've really got to get home.”

I look at Calvin and notice a sign tacked on the tree.

“Lost dog. Reward.”

Beneath the sign is a picture of a dog and a telephone number.

It's a big tree. Four signs are tacked onto it.

There are lots of trees on this block between the sidewalk and the street. We look at them all. They all have the same Lost Dog signs. Each of the big trees has a few signs.

At the corner we cross the street. There are signs on the next block too, but just one sign on each tree. On the block after that, only some of the trees have signs.

“Do you know what this means?” I ask Calvin.

“Someone lost a dog.”

“Whoever put up these signs probably started on Clover Street. As she got farther away, she was running out of signs, so she put fewer up.”

“She?”

I tell Calvin, “I think Mrs. Cakel lost her dog.”

Just ahead is another tree with a sign. I get real close and look at the picture of the dog. It's one of those French dogs with fancy haircuts. Beneath the picture it says, “Lost Dog! Reward!” There's a telephone number and then “Dog answers to the name Lollipop.”

“No,” Calvin says. “This is too funny. Mrs. Cakel's first name is Beatrice and she has a dog named Lollipop with a puffy, froufrou haircut!”

I don't know what froufrou is.

“Maybe I'm wrong,” I say. “Maybe it's not her dog.”

“I'll find out,” Calvin says.

I don't have a cell phone but Calvin does. He takes it out and calls the number on the sign.

He waits.

I hear the muffled sounds of someone answering his call.

Calvin listens for a moment. He presses the Power Off button.

“It's her,” Calvin says. “It's Beatrice.”

We walk toward home and Calvin says the same thing again and again. He sort of sings it.

“Beatrice lost her Lollipop.

“Beatrice lost her Lollipop.

“Beatrice lost her Lollipop.”

It's not good that Calvin found out Mrs. Cakel's first name. Who knows what he might do with that. It's not good, but it's funny when he sings, “Beatrice lost her Lollipop.”

I try to keep from smiling, but I can't.

I don't look at Calvin.

I don't want to encourage Calvin Waffle. That's just about the worst thing I could ever do.

I think of Karen and that I'm already late for my appointment with the spaghetti pot, and that keeps me from smiling. We're on our way home and I'm walking fast.

Then I tell Calvin, “Some people get really attached to their pets. Mrs. Cakel must really miss Lollipop.”

“I know what reward I want,” Calvin says. “I want no more homework for the rest of the year. I want to be allowed to chew gum, and slouch, and mumble. Just me. Annie will be so jealous that I'm allowed to chew gum and she's not.”

“We haven't found Lollipop.”

“We will find that Candy-On-A-Stick dog,” Calvin says. “And as a reward, she'll let me sit in the back of the class and play computer games and chew hard candies. Maybe I'll even wear a yellow headband.”

I remind Calvin that we're in this together. We'll both look for her dog and I won't do it for the reward.

“That's you,” Calvin says. “I'm buying the biggest box of gum I can. I'll buy two. Once we find that Lollipop, I'll be gum chewing and gum popping all day.”

We're on our block. We get to my house first.

“We'll start our search tomorrow, right after school,” Calvin says. “With my spy training, finding a dog will be easy.”

I say good-bye to Calvin. Then I open the front door to my house and walk in.

“Do you know what time it is?” Karen asks.

She's holding four dinner plates.

I look at my watch.

“Five thirty.”

“Take these,” she says and gives me the plates. “Set the table. Make the spaghetti and heat up the sauce. We can't serve it cold.”

I put the plates on the dining room table.

I take out a big pot and a small pot, a box of spaghetti, and a can of tomato sauce. I half-fill the big pot with water. I put a few long pieces in the water. I break the others into smaller pieces so they will be easier to eat. I put the spaghetti in the big pot, the pot on the stove, and turn on the burner.

I open a can of sauce, pour it in the smaller pot, put the pot on the stove, and turn on the burner.

Cooking is easy. Maybe I'll become a chef.

“Something is definitely going on,” Karen tells me. “Mom came home a while ago. She went right up to her and Dad's room and closed the door.”

I finish setting the table.

I turn off the fires under the two pots.

I take the spaghetti to the sink and pour it through a colander. That's a fancy word for a metal bowl with lots of holes. The colander holds onto the spaghetti but lets the water drip out.

Colander is not the only cooking word I know. I know spatula, sauce pan, poach, simmer, consommé, quiche, and confectioner's sugar. I don't know what they all mean, but right now I'm not a chef.

Karen brings her salad to the table. It looks normal, but you have to be careful with any food Karen makes.

I hear the door to Mom and Dad's room open. They're coming down the stairs.

Karen whispers, “Don't talk on and on like you usually do. Let Mom and Dad talk. I'm sure they have something to tell us.”

Mom and Dad come into the dining room.

Mom takes her seat at one end of the table. Dad sits at the other end.

“Danny,” Mom says. “I know you set the table because there are no napkins.”

Karen gives me a dirty look.

Mom says, “If Karen set the table, there would be napkins but no glasses.”

I want to give Karen a dirty look, but I'm not sure how to do that.

I once tried to practice making dirty faces with a mirror. It just looked to me like I bit into something that tasted yucky. I decide to practice some more. I'm already ten. At my age, I should be able to give someone a dirty look.

I bring in the big bowl of spaghetti. Karen brings in the salad and the small bowl of sauce.

Mom and Dad each take a large helping of Karen's salad. I watch them taste it.

“Very interesting,” Dad says.

Food shouldn't taste interesting. It should taste good.

“What spices are in here?” Mom asks.

“Ground cumin, ginger, and pepper,” Karen says. “Salt is not good for you, so I didn't use any.”

Cumin? Ginger? No salad for me!

I finish my first serving of spaghetti and I'm ready for more. I fish in the bowl for the long pieces. They're fun to eat.

Dad puts down his fork and says, “I have something to tell you.”

Here it comes.

“I lost my job. I was fired.”

Today my dad lost his job and Mrs. Waffle got one.

Karen asks, “Did you do something wrong?”

Dad shakes his head.

“My boss said I was a great salesman but he's giving my job to his brother-in-law. Mr. Crandel said family comes first.”

I tell Dad, “That's so not fair.”

Mom says, “I agree, but life is not always fair.”

I wonder if my parents will run out of money. Food and clothing are expensive. Mom only works three days a week.

I put my fork down. I'm no longer hungry.

“Dad,” Karen asks. “Did you really like selling plumbing things?”

“It's not the plungers I liked. It was the people. As a salesman I spent all day meeting and talking to people. I'm a real people person.”

“What's a people person?” I ask. “Aren't all persons people and all people persons?”

“What I mean is, I like to be with people, to work with them.”

“Your dad will find something,” Mom tells Karen and me. “He's too good a salesman to be out of work for long.”

I tell them about Mrs. Waffle's new job.

“Maybe Dad can get a job in her bakery. He could put the sprinkles on cookies or the raisins in the raisin bread.”

“We'll see,” Dad says.

Mom puts her fork down. I look at her plate. She ate all her spaghetti, but she left a mound of salad.

“Who wants dessert?” Mom asks. “Who wants ice cream?”

I do. There's always room for ice cream, especially butter pecan.