Dogs Don't Tell Jokes (10 page)

“What?” asked Abel.

“How do we know when Gary’s told a joke?”

Gary looked up at the sky.

Melissa punched Gus’s arm.

“Dog ears!” exclaimed Angeline. “I wish I could be there!”

“I’m sorry, Angelini,” said her father. “But the only other flight is in the morning. You’d miss a day of school. And they’d have to make a special trip to take you to the airport.”

“Gary’s comedy debut is a lot more important than a day of school!”

“Your government sponsors don’t quite see it that way,” Abel said. “And they’re the ones paying for your education. And airfare.”

“Dog ears!” griped Angeline.

“I’ll be coming right from the talent show to the airport,” said her father. “I’ll be able to tell you all about it.”

Angeline scowled. Then her eyes lit up. “I know,” she said. “You and Mr. Bone can get married! They’d have to let me come home for my father’s wedding.”

Both Abel and Melissa turned red. Each muttered something incomprehensible.

“That’s a great idea!” said Gus, slapping Abel on the back.

“Uh, dub, urn,” said Abel. He cleared his throat.

“I have a more
practical
idea,” said Melissa.
“I can borrow my school’s video camera. I’ll videotape Gary’s act for you, Angeline.”

“But if you’re laughing at Gary’s jokes, you won’t be able to operate the video camera,” said Angeline.

“I’ll bring one of my students to operate it. They’re better at it than me anyway.” She turned to Gary. “You don’t mind being videotaped, do you?”

Gary shrugged. “Sure, no problem,” he said.

He could see it now:
Goon—The Video!

He quit the talent show.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Miss Langley.

He nodded, then watched her cross his name off the list.

It was just as well, he thought as he walked across the schoolyard. Now he’d be able to play football after school, or do his homework, instead of wasting so much time making up jokes that weren’t funny. And the best part was that he’d still get a hundred dollars from his parents for
not
telling a joke!

“Hey, Ira!” he called. “Michael! Steve!”

Michael and Steve were together, so it didn’t
matter that Gary didn’t know who was Michael and who was Steve. They both said “Hi, Goon” back to him.

“I’m going to start collecting baseball cards,” Gary told them.

All three seemed genuinely gladdened by the news. They told Gary which brand to get, how much they cost, and which store seemed to have the best cards.

“But I guess it doesn’t matter with Goon,” said Steve (or Michael), “since he doesn’t have
any
yet.”

For some reason they all thought that was hilarious.

“Can’t get any doubles, can he?” asked Ira.

They laughed again.

Gary laughed with them.

The place that Ira said had the best baseball cards happened to be next door to Gary’s favorite thrift store. He went into the thrift store first, for old times’ sake.

“You’re the young man who collects hats,” said the elderly woman who ran the store.

He recognized her too. He always figured she didn’t have much money, to work in such a place, but there was something about her that impressed him as elegant. She had a very dignified
way of talking. And the way she stood, so straight and tall—at least she seemed tall, though if he stood next to her, she’d probably only come up to his chin.

“I collect baseball cards, too,” he told her.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of help there,” she said. “But let me show you something that came in yesterday. I thought of you the moment I saw it.”

It was a navy-blue felt homburg, trimmed with a silver ribbon and ornamental button. The feather was yellow with a trace of white around the edges.

Gary tried it on. It was a little too tight for him. He looked at himself in the mirror.

The woman stood behind him. “Very dashing,” she said.

It did look pretty good, but he only had enough money for baseball cards. Besides, it was too tight. “Maybe another time,” he said.

He went next door and asked for a deck of baseball cards.

At dinner Gary broke the news about the talent show to his parents. “I know you don’t like me quitting something in the middle …” he started to explain.

“I think you made the right decision,” said
his father. “If you must know, we were worried that you might be taking the talent show a bit too seriously.”

“We didn’t want to see you hurt when you didn’t win,” said his mother.

He told them about his new hobby—collecting baseball cards.

They approved.

“I used to have quite a baseball card collection myself,” his father said. “Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle …” He shook his head. “I wish I knew what happened to it. You know what those things are worth these days?” He looked Gary in the eye and spoke very seriously, like he was imparting great fatherly advice. “Whatever you do,” he said, “don’t throw away your baseball card collection.”

Gary promised he wouldn’t.

After dinner he tore down his posters of famous comedians. Then he went through his baseball cards and memorized the players’ lifetime batting averages.

Gary showed his baseball cards to Ira. They made a trade. Gary traded away two of his cards, and in return got five of Ira’s. He wasn’t sure why he got five cards when he had to give Ira only two, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“I’m just helping a friend get started,” Ira explained. “When you’re first starting out, the important thing is to get a lot of cards. It doesn’t matter who they are.”

It all happened so fast Gary didn’t understand any of it. Still, he knew he must have done something right, because after Ira told Steve and Michael about the trade, they both wanted to make trades with Gary too.

“Goon, next time you get some new baseball cards,” said Michael (or Steve), you come to me first, okay? I’ll make you a
good
trade.”

“No, come to me,” said Steve (or Michael).

“I’m your friend, Gary,” said Ira. “I’ve always treated you right.”

Joe let him go out for several passes in gym class, and he caught two of the three Joe threw to him. On one of the passes, Zack told him he made a good catch.

“Zack,” said Joe. “You want to play electric football after school?”

Zack shrugged. “I guess.”

Gary couldn’t imagine why anyone would want an electric football. How would you plug it in? It would have to be battery-operated, or else you’d need a real long cord.

“How about you, Goon?” asked Joe.

“Huh?”

“You want to come over after school and play electric football?”

“Sounds cool,” said Gary, trying to sound cool.

He didn’t know where Joe lived. He knew he should have just asked him, but for some
reason he didn’t—like he was afraid to admit he didn’t know where Joe lived. It was stupid. He knew it was stupid as he sat at his desk in history, his last class of the day.

He’d have to try to find Joe after school and ask him. Then Joe would wonder why he hadn’t asked him earlier. He shook his head and sighed. Or else he could look in a phone book, but there were probably lots of Reeds in the phone book, and phone books didn’t always give addresses.

“This is even worse than not bringing him the ice cream sandwich,” he said.

When the bell rang, he hurried out of the room, then searched the halls for Joe or Zack. There were four main hallways in the school. He quickly moved from one to the other, and back again. The hallways were crowded at first, and he had to push his way past people to try and see everyone. “Hey, watch it, Goon!” someone yelled at him. But as he continued his search he kept seeing fewer and fewer people in each hallway, until at last hardly anyone was left at all. Dejected, he headed out of the building.

He was halfway home when he suddenly saw Matt, Ryan, and Paul, a block away. He
ran to them. “Do you know where Joe lives?” he asked, catching his breath.

“What do you want, Goon?” asked Matt.

He had just told them. “Do you know where Joe Reed lives?” he asked again. “Joe invited me to his house,” he added with a touch of pride.

The three boys looked at one another. “I’m not sure of the exact address,” said Paul. “It’s on Garnet Lane—a two-story blue and white house. There’s a weeping willow tree out in front.”

Gary didn’t ask why the willow tree was crying.
Did its leaves leave?

“Wait. Where’s Garnet Lane?” he asked.

“Do you know where Mica Road is?” asked Paul.

He nodded.

“Just take Mica Road all the way to the end,” said Paul. “You can’t miss it.”

“If you get lost, follow your butt,” said Ryan Utt.

Mica Road was a winding road. As Gary rounded each curve he kept hoping he’d see the end, but it just kept winding around.

Maybe the road never ended. He wasn’t
stupid. He knew Paul might have made the whole thing up—as a joke. But he felt he was sort of friends with Paul, Matt, and Ryan now. He had played football with them after school. And he had told them he was invited to Joe’s. They wouldn’t play a joke on Joe.

He kept walking. “Besides, what’s so funny about giving somebody wrong directions?” he asked. “There’s nothing funny about that.”

As he rounded another curve he saw what looked like the end of the road. He walked quickly and soon saw the sign for Garnet Lane.

Garnet Lane was a narrow, quiet street with no sidewalks. He immediately spotted the two-story blue and white house. It really wasn’t such a long walk after all.

“What are you crying about?” he asked the weeping willow tree.

No one said he couldn’t tell a joke to a tree.

He rang the doorbell.

A woman opened the door. He told her he was there to see Joe.

“My husband?” asked the woman. “He’s at his office.”

Julie Rose appeared behind her mother. “What’s
he
doing here?” she asked.

Gary left.

It wasn’t funny. “What’s so funny about giving someone directions to Julie Rose’s house?”

What bothered him the most was that they thought it would be funny. The reason they thought it would be funny was because Julie was one of the most popular girls in school, while he was … well, it showed what they thought he was.

“You get any new cards, Goon?” asked Steve (or maybe Michael).

“Um, no,” said Gary. “I haven’t had time.”

“Time?” asked Michael (or Steve). “How much
time
does it take to buy baseball cards?”

“Gee. It takes a whole two minutes,” said Ira.

Ira and the Higgins twins laughed.

“Two and a half minutes if you have to wait for change,” said Michael (or Steve).

They all laughed again.

“Two minutes and forty-five seconds if he only has pennies!” exclaimed the other Higgins brother.

Ira laughed so hard he almost fell down.

Gary smiled and shrugged. He had no idea what was supposed to be so funny. Surely they knew it took almost half an hour to get to the store.

“Two minutes and forty-six seconds if he drops one!” said Ira.

They were hysterical.

He leaned against the school building. He saw Joe, but Joe didn’t see him. He wasn’t sure what he’d say to him—maybe make up something about having to clean the garage.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “So, Goon,” said Matt. “How’s Julie?”

Paul and Ryan laughed.

“I guess I should have told you to bring flowers,” said Paul. They laughed again.

Ryan nudged Gary with his elbow. “Did you kiss her?”

“No!” said Gary.

“Oh, man, why not?” asked Matt. “That was your big chance.”

“Julie’s really hot for you,” said Paul. “That’s why I gave you her address. I knew you’d be too shy to go on your own.”

“Yeah, right,” said Gary.

Paul looked offended. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Goon,” he said. “I was just trying to help a friend, but if you’re going to be that way about it …” He walked away. Matt and Ryan followed.

Gary glanced at a poster for the talent show.

Two days away. He’d still go to it—but as a spectator. He wanted to hear Joe’s rap.

“Wait, let me get this straight, Goon,” Joe said in gym. “
You
went to Julie Rose’s house!”

Gary shrugged.

Joe and Zack cracked up.

They played flag football.

“I was wide open!” Gary said, returning to the huddle.

“I didn’t see you, Goon,” said Joe. Then he laughed. “Sorry, but I just keep picturing you
at Julie’s house.” He laughed again. “You have to admit that’s funny!”

Gary smiled.

He went straight home after school. He wanted to get an early start on his homework because there was a television show on at eight o’clock that Joe always watched.

He sat at his desk. He thought about the talent show. It was hard for him to believe that he once actually thought he’d be up on stage in front of the whole school telling jokes. Now he couldn’t even imagine it.

Two days away. “I’d probably be going crazy right now,” he said.

He had to read a chapter in history, but as he stared at the pages he found himself reading the same paragraph over again. He read it at least three times but still didn’t know what it said.

“Can’t concentrate, huh?” asked a voice behind him.

He turned around.

An old woman was sitting cross-legged on his bed. She was eating mashed potatoes and gravy.

He watched her dig her spoon into the potatoes, then slurp noisily from it. She wore green flannel pajamas and a black bolero, which was the kind of hat worn by Zorro.

“You want some?” she offered, holding out a spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy.

“Uh …” He shook his head. Suddenly he knew who she was. “You’re …”

“Mrs. Snitzberry,” she said with a certain amount of pride. “But my friends call me Gladys.”

“Gladys?” asked Gary.

“I said my
friends
,” said Mrs. Snitzberry. “You’re no friend of mine. What’s the big idea?”