Charlie Bumpers vs. the Perfect Little Turkey (3 page)

“Who would like to read their definition of family?” Mrs. Burke asked the next day in class. A bunch of hands went up.

Not mine.

“Trevor,” Mrs. Burke said. “Why don’t you share yours with the class?”

Trevor David walked to the front of the room and started to read. “A family is my mom and dad and my brother Lewis and my Aunt Chloe and Uncle Drew and Aunt Melissa and my four grandparents—Grandma Celia, Granddad Herbert …” He just kept going. Forever. After a while, it got pretty funny, but Mrs. Burke let him read the whole thing.

Then other kids read their definitions.

The last line of Alexandra Burnett’s definition was “Family is anyone you’re related to.”

“What does it mean to be related?” Mrs. Burke asked the class.

Samantha Grunsky’s hand shot up like a rocket. Of course.

Mrs. Burke nodded at her.

“‘Related’ means you have some of their genes,” Samantha said proudly.

“Blue jeans?” Sam Marchand asked.

Everyone cracked up.

Mrs. Burke told everyone to pipe down and called on Josh, who was patiently holding his arm in the air. Josh is always patient.

“It means some of your cells are the same,” he explained.

“But what if you’re adopted?” Ellen asked. “My friend Alicia has parents who adopted her.”

“Like me,” said Robby Rosen. “I’m adopted, too. But my mom and dad are still my family.”

A lot of kids nodded. I already knew Robby was adopted because he told me in first grade.

I read my definition again. Now that I’d had time to cool down, it didn’t look so good to me.

I glanced over at my friend Hector Adelia, who sits next to me. “Hector,” I whispered. “Can I see yours?” He was usually a little shy, so I figured he wouldn’t volunteer to read his aloud.

He handed it to me. Hector’s handwriting is very neat, just like he is.
I think family is anyone you care about,
Hector had written.
Once you know someone really well, it begins to feel like they are family. So I think they are.

“That’s awesome,” I said, handing the paper back. I slipped my definition under my notebook.

Crystal Medeiros, who doesn’t talk a lot, was reading hers in a low voice. “My definition of family is the whole world. I think we’re all related.”

I wondered if this meant Samantha Grunsky was related to me. Matt and the Squid were bad enough—being related to Samantha would be a catastrophe.

Mrs. Burke stood up. “Okay, citizens. Please pass in your definitions. I’d like to look at them—we can talk about them more tomorrow.”

Everybody but me passed their assignments to the front. “What are you waiting for, Charlie?” Mrs. Burke asked. “Pass yours up, too.”

So I did.

What a bozo.

The next morning in class, everyone was excited about getting out of school early.

I love half days.

The teachers realize they can’t get everything done, so they don’t even try. And since tomorrow was Thanksgiving vacation, we were about to have
two
extra days off.

During math, Mrs. Burke split us into pairs to
work on problems together, then sat at her desk to grade papers. Hector was my partner. The math problems were pretty easy. When we finished, I asked Hector if they had Thanksgiving in Chile, where he’s from.

“No,” he said. “In Chile right now, it’s almost summer.”

“Wow, that’s weird,” I said. I told him a little about Thanksgiving at our house.

“It sounds like it’s mostly about food.”

“Yeah, except I try not to eat too much in the morning,” I said, “so I’m really hungry for the gigantic dinner.”

“Good idea,” Hector said.

“And this year Uncle Ron is coming,” I said. “I wish you could meet him. He’s really fun. He usually brings something for us kids to do when he comes.”

“Like what?” Hector asked.

“Well, once he brought this really stretchy surgical tubing that we turned into a giant slingshot that fired water balloons into the air. It was so cool. Three of them went over the roof of our house!”

Hector’s eyes got big. “Really? Where did they land?”

“I don’t know. We couldn’t find them,” I said. “And then one summer Uncle Ron brought these old tire inner tubes and we floated down the river really far and by accident we floated past where we were supposed to get out and then he dropped his cell phone in the water so we had to get a ride from someone we didn’t know back to the car and were late for dinner and Mom was afraid we had all drowned.”

“Really?” Hector’s eyes got even bigger.

“Yeah, and Uncle Ron makes awesome stuff and he can fix almost anything.”

POW! POW! POW! Mrs. Burke snapped her
fingers. “Hector and Charlie, if you’re done with your math, please find something quiet to do so others can work.”

When everyone had finished, Mrs. Burke handed back the definitions of “family.”

Mine didn’t come back. She still had one paper in her hand.

“I’ve made notes on your papers,” Mrs. Burke said to the class. “I’d like you to rewrite them here in class and make the changes I suggested. If you want, you can take yours home and read it to your family at Thanksgiving. That’s all the homework you have for the holiday.”

Everyone clapped and cheered.

“So get to work!” she said.

She looked down at the paper she was holding. “Charlie, come up here for a minute, will you?”

Uh-oh.
I did not like the sound of her voice.

When I reached her desk, she held up the paper. “Charlie, what’s with this? Did you mean what you wrote here?”

“Kind of,” I said.

“What do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“Well, I know I was supposed to write about how great families are, but my brother and sister ganged up on me after dinner and they’re always really bugging me and …”

She gave me one of her not-a-good-answer looks. “And they locked me in the bathroom,” I added.

Even that didn’t seem to bother her. She just kept staring at me.

“And my cousin is coming for Thanksgiving and he follows me around and bugs me … and I have to let him sleep in my room.”

“All this sounds tragic, Charlie,” she said. “But I’m not going to accept this paper. I’ve got a special assignment for you.”

“Okay,” I said.

“You don’t have to rewrite this now,” she said.

“All right,” I said.

“You don’t have to write anything today.”

I nodded. This was getting better and better!

“Instead, I want you to pay attention during the vacation to everything that happens at home. Then I want you to write a completely new definition. And I want you to explain why you wrote it. You can hand it in on Monday.”

What? Was she kidding? What kind of special assignment was that? No one else had real homework over the long weekend but me!

“But …,” I started.

“What?” she said.

“That’s not fair,” I said.

“Do you know what my mother always used to say?”

I already knew the answer. “Life’s not fair,” I mumbled.

She put her hand on my shoulder. “You can do a lot better than this, Charlie.”

As I headed back to my desk, Samantha Grunsky looked up from her paper.

“Where’s your definition?” she asked. “Didn’t you hand one in?”

“I have a special assignment,” I said.

“I bet you did yours wrong,” she said. “What’s your special assignment?”

I did not want to tell Samantha Grunsky about my special assignment.

“None of your beeswax,” I said.

When the Squid and I got home from school, we were surprised to find Mom already at the counter in the kitchen, surrounded by mixing bowls. “Charlie,” she said, “please walk Ginger, she’s going crazy.”

I could tell Mom felt hassled, so I didn’t complain. I took Ginger around the block. She peed and pooped and didn’t even put one paw on Mr. Gritzbach’s yard. That was good, because I didn’t want him to be grumpier than usual when he came over on Thanksgiving.

When I got back, Mom was yelling up the stairs
for Matt to bring in some firewood. Then she asked Mabel to fold the napkins in the laundry basket.

Then she had orders for me.

“Charlie, you left some clothes on the floor of your room this morning,” Mom said. “Please go straighten up. Everybody will be here in an hour or so.”

Mom was acting like a marine sergeant. She always gets like this when relatives come. But you don’t argue with a marine sergeant—especially when it’s your mom.

I went up to my room and looked around. I had spent most of the afternoon the day before cleaning it up, and I thought it looked pretty good.

As long as you didn’t look under the bed or in the closet.

There wasn’t much room to walk, since Mom had also made me pump up the air mattress for Chip.

There was a pair of underwear and a T-shirt on the floor. I put them in the clothes hamper.

The transport module was on my desk. I had finished that the day before, too. It looked truly stupific. That’s a word Tommy and I made up—it’s a combination of “stupendous” and “terrific.” The tiny Buck Meson was sitting in the cockpit like he was ready to take off. I still couldn’t believe I’d put it together myself.

I shoved my backpack into my closet and smoothed out my bedspread.

When I came back downstairs, Mom had set out all kinds of ingredients. She looked a little like a mad scientist, mixing things up in so many different bowls.

A mad scientist marine sergeant.

The Squid was standing at the counter, reading aloud the labels on all the boxes.

“Charlie,” Mom said, “I want to remind you again to please be a good host. Chip is only here for two nights, so I need you to be a good big cousin.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Thanks, sweetie. I really appreciate it.” She gave me a big smile. “I’m so excited everyone’s coming.”

Okay—I guess even mad scientist marine sergeants can smile.

Just then, Matt opened the back door and marched in. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

“We’re ordering pizzas,” Mom said.

“Pizza begins with a
p,
” the Squid announced.
“That letter makes the
puh
sound.”

“Can we order them now?” Matt asked. “I’m starving.”

“Too early,” Mom said. “We have to wait for everyone to get here.”

“I might starve,” Matt said.

“You might.” The smiling marine sergeant mad scientist didn’t seem very concerned about her son starving.

“This says ‘eggs.’” The Squid held up the egg carton.

“You’re a genius, Mabel,” Matt said.

“I know,” the Squid said.

Mom kept giving us things to do, like fluffing up the pillows on the couch and vacuuming the rug. When Dad got home she had him rearrange the chairs in the family room. “And when you’re done, please fix that bathroom door upstairs!” she called to him.

Before he could answer, we heard the front door open. “Hellooooooo!” a voice called out.

It was Aunt Sarah. Mom hurried toward the front door. The Squid was right behind her.

“Where’s Charlie?” I heard someone yell.

It was Chip.

“Here we go,” Matt said in a low voice.

When I went into the living room, Aunt Sarah was already there, holding Tilly in her arms. Pops and Gams were coming through the door. I didn’t see Chip.

“Hi, Sarah! Hi, Tilly!” my mom said, her face breaking into a big grin.

“Hey, everybody,” Sarah said. “Tilly, can you say hi to Aunt Gloria?”

Tilly took one look at us and buried her face in Aunt Sarah’s shoulder. Aunt Sarah patted her back with a smile, and Mom laughed.

“Hello, folks,” Pops said. “The army has arrived!”

“Hi, Dad!” Mom gave him and my grandmother big hugs. Then my dad came in and we all stood around for a few minutes, hugging each other and saying hello. Matt waved to everyone, then
disappeared upstairs. Pops shook my hand really firmly, then laughed and pulled me into his belly.

As soon as Uncle Brandon said hello to everyone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Be back in a minute,” he said, already punching in a number. “One phone call I’ve got to make.”

“Charlie!” My grandmother put her hands on my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Just look how tall you’re getting!”

“I grew, too!” the Squid said, pulling on Gams’s arm. “Also, my brain grew and now I can read.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Gams exclaimed. “You’re bright as a button! Just like Chip! He read to us all the way down here. My grandkids are absolutely amazing!”

“Hey, Charlie!” Chip called. I turned and saw him standing at the door to the family room, holding a couple of LEGO cars I had built. “I’m going to take these apart and build something better. Come on and watch me.” Before I could protest, he ran back into the family room.

“Charlie,” Mom said. “Why don’t you show Chip where he’s staying?”

I picked up his backpack. “Hey, Chip,” I called. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I headed up to my room. When I was halfway down the hall, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.

“Charlie, wait!” Chip said. “I remember where your room is!” He pushed ahead of me and burst through the door first.

“We’re sleeping in here together?” he said, looking down at the air mattress.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s kind of crowded, but—”

“Awesome!” Chip fell down on the mattress. My mom had already put some sheets on it and it looked like a real bed.

“It’s not very bouncy,” he said. Then he climbed up on my bed and jumped up and down. “This is way better. Can I sleep here?” he said.

“Stop jumping. That’s where I sleep,” I said. “We blew up the mattress specially for you.”

“Charlie, please? Just for tonight? Just one night?”

I wanted to say
No way, you little turkey. This is my bed!
But I didn’t. “You’ll like the mattress if you try it. I’ve slept on it before. It’s really fun.”

“Then why don’t you sleep on it now?” he asked.

I thought for a second. It was just one night. I remembered what Mom had said about being a good host. “Okay,” I said. “Just for tonight.”

“Yippee!” Chip started jumping again. “Thanks, Charlie! This is a great bed!”

It
was
a great bed.
My
great bed. I turned and headed down the hall.

“Hey, Charlie!” Chip yelled. “Where are you going?”

I hurried downstairs and slipped through the kitchen, where the grown-ups were all talking and laughing. The Squid was there, too, and Ginger was barking because there were so many people.

I pulled my fleece off the hook and put it on, then went out to the garage for my soccer ball. I kicked it around the driveway, avoiding the garage door.

Chip bounded down the back steps. “Hey, great! Soccer!” he shouted. “I can kick it really hard.”

“We’re not supposed to—”

But before I could finish my warning, Chip booted the ball straight for the garage door.

BAM!

It came right back to him and he kicked it again.

“Chip—” I started again.

BAM!

This time it bounced toward me and I caught it. Just then the back door opened. “Charlie!” my dad said. “I’ve asked you a hundred times not to kick the ball at the garage door.”

“I didn’t!” I said. “I was trying to—”

“We’re both playing, Uncle Jim,” Chip interrupted. “We’re seeing who can kick it harder.”

“Okay, Chip, but not against the door.”

“I didn’t know,” Chip said.

“Well, Charlie does,” Dad said.

“Dad!” I yelled. It wasn’t fair he was blaming me.

“Just kick it to each other,” Dad said. “With two people you don’t need a door. I’m going back inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Let’s play in the driveway!” Chip said.

“I’m going inside, too,” I said. Chip was even more annoying than I remembered.

“Okay,” Chip said. He grabbed the ball and punted it toward the street, then ran up the back steps and into the house.

“Chip!” I called. But he was already gone. I ran after the ball. Uncle Brandon was standing at the end of the driveway, still on his phone. The ball had rolled right by him. I found it behind our neighbor’s car. As I carried it back, Uncle Brandon waved to me and smiled. He had no idea what was happening.

Everybody was still in the kitchen, except for Uncle Brandon and Matt.

“Charlie!” the Squid said. “We’re ordering pizza tonight. And I’m reading the menu.” My sister was sitting at the table with Gams and Mom, holding the menu from the pizza shop.

“This says ‘cheese’!” she said. “And this says ‘peepers.’”

“Peppers,” Gams corrected.

“Peppers! And I don’t even know this word.”

“That says anchovies,” Gams said.

“What are those?”

“Little fish.”

“Fish on a pizza?” The Squid shook her head. “Yuck. I don’t need to know that word.”

“Here,” Chip said, snatching the menu out of the Squid’s hands. “I can read the whole menu.”

“Hey!” the Squid protested. “I was reading that!”

“I’m just looking at it for a minute,” Chip said, “then I’ll give it back.”

“Okay, but only for ten seconds. One … two … three …”

“Mabel,” Mom said. “Let your cousin read. I’m sure he’ll give it back in just a few minutes.” Then she went back to talking to Aunt Sarah.

While Chip read the whole menu out loud as fast as he could, I went over to Dad, who was leaning against the counter.

“Dad,” I said. “I wasn’t kicking the ball against the garage. It was Chip.”

“Okay,” he said, giving me a hug. “Just don’t do it again.”

“But I didn’t do it!”

“I said it’s okay, Charlie.” Dad gave me another squeeze. But it was like he wasn’t hearing me. There was too much going on.

Usually I pay attention when someone’s ordering pizza. I like extra cheese on mine and nothing else. But instead I just wormed my way out of the kitchen and went upstairs. I walked down the hall to Matt’s room. The door was closed, so I knocked.

No answer. I knocked harder.

“Nobody home!” Matt yelled.

“C’mon, Matt, it’s me!”

“Seriously, there’s nobody home!”

I could tell Matt was listening to music because he was talking so loud. I pushed the door open. My brother was lying on his bed with his headphones on, staring at the ceiling like a zombie. He looked at me, lifted one earpiece, and shouted, “Hey, illegal entry!”

“Please, can I come in for a second?”

“Permission granted,” he said.

I closed the door behind me and sat on his chair. I didn’t say anything. For a while, Matt just ignored me, but then he finally clicked off his music player and took off the headphones.

“What is it?” he asked. “Why are you bugging me?”

“Chip is already driving me bonkers,” I said.