Puppet Pandemonium (3 page)

“Throw sand in his face!” a child shouted.

“Make confetti eggs and trick the wizard,” another child called out.

“Crack the eggs over the wizard's head,” someone said. “Make him cry.”

The cow and the rooster were almost finished when Greta Gorilla interrupted them with a long, sad tale about living in the jungle. She didn't like to attend jungle school. She hated jungle school. She sang:

Greta tried to spell
banana, coconut
, and
elephant
, and when she missed them all, the kids called out each letter to help her spell them correctly. I checked my watch and realized we were almost at the end. It was time for the next episode of the serial, and Ricky would be coming out again soon. I glanced at Sam. He must have found a clothespin in Gram's suitcase because he had one pinned on his nose. It cracked me up, but I couldn't laugh. Gram was depending on me.

Ricky's face popped out on the left side of the puppet house, and I moved the spotlight so everyone else could find him too.

“Who's having a good time?” he called.

A hundred tiny hands shot up. Then out of the darkened theater I heard someone laugh.

“Woo-hoo! Look at Ricky! He thinks he's a skunk today.” No one had noticed his skunk tail until the show was almost over. I was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. The laughter bounced off the walls.

Everyone chanted. “Rick-y is a skuh-unk. Rick-y is a skuh-unk.” But skunk or raccoon, he was still their favorite.

Ella Pearl came flying over the top of the puppet house, uninvited as usual, and the kids went wild.

“Watch out, Ricky!” they screamed. “There's Ella Pearl!”

The kids knew Ella was looking for a husband. Her bride's dress flew up in her face, covering her sharp teeth. But the kids hadn't forgotten they were there.

“Ricky! Oh, Rickeeeeeee. Are you hiding my new husband?” She moved so fast that I had trouble keeping the spotlight on her.

“Come here, Mr. Crocodile Husband,” she called. “It's I. The lovely and beautiful Ella Pearl. Where are you? Woo-hoo, Mr. Crocodile Husband!” The kids stood on tiptoe to get a better look.

“Oh, no!” Ricky cried. “Ella Pearl will never find a crocodile husband because she has such a bad temper. Go away, Ella Pearl. Go away!”

The audience joined in the chant with Ricky. “Go away, Ella Pearl. Go away!” That was all it took to rile Ella Pearl even more, and she started after Ricky. I thought today just might be the end of Ricky Raccoon.

“Don't eat Ricky! Don't eat Ricky!” the kids shouted, but it looked as if Ella Pearl couldn't be stopped this time. She smacked her lips. She was ready for dinner.

Smack. Smack
. “Raccoons are my favorite food.”

She headed for Ricky's nose. But then she fooled everyone (me included) and bit Ricky's tail instead. The safety pins slipped right through the shredded hair and came off in her mouth.

“Ugh!” Ella Pearl cried. “A skunk's tail. Pee-yew!” She coughed and gagged. She dropped Ricky's skunk tail. “Pee-yew!”

“Run! Run!” the kids screamed. Ella Pearl grabbed Ricky's ears. She pulled his nose. She bashed his head. She nipped at his paws.

Although I had seen the show a million times, I was always surprised that Ricky could escape his fate. But this time, even I thought Ricky was doomed.

“Save Ricky!” Sam screamed at me. “Help him!”

I don't know what came over me. I ran down the aisle and jumped up on the stage. I dashed behind the puppet house and grabbed Mr. Fox. Before I knew what was happening, I popped him out of the puppet
house and chased Ella Pearl all over the place. Ella Pearl was very surprised when Mr. Fox appeared, and Ricky Raccoon beamed at his rescuer.

Mr. Fox tricked Ella Pearl into looking away for a moment. Then he bopped that naughty crocodile over the head with a rubber bat, and the audience cheered. Ella Pearl burst into tears.

“I'm going to swim back to my house,” she sobbed. But before she left, she clicked her long, pointed teeth at Mr. Fox. “Next time,” she said, “I'm going to eat you first. Foxes are my second-favorite food.” The audience clapped and the show ended. Ricky Raccoon took a bow.

“It's your turn now,” Gram whispered to me. “Take your bow too.”

I popped Mr. Fox back outside the curtain, and the audience cheered. I had never felt such power. I wished I could be like Mr. Fox all the time.

“You did a great job today,” Gram said as the audience departed.

“Thanks,” I said, proud and sad all at once.

All the puppeteers had come to see my last show. They wished me luck in my new school. I didn't want to leave any of them. “If you don't like it in Texas, you'll always have a spot in our theater,” Leo said. Then his head spun around and his eyes blinked.

“Who's going to help you after I'm gone?” I asked
Gram on the drive home. “What if Ella Pearl tries to eat Ricky again? I won't be around to help.”

“If Ricky gets into another scrape, I'll just call you and ask what to do about it.”

I had made up my mind to act happy about moving, for Dad's sake, but I wasn't. I didn't believe that Gram and her puppets
could
get along without me. After all, I was the director of Ricky Raccoon Productions. Directors didn't have understudies.

There was no one to follow in my footsteps.

I
ran inside our house to tell my parents about saving Ricky's life. Gram was close behind. Before I could tell them what had happened at the show, Dad handed me a box. He was grinning like he'd just won the lottery.

“What's this?” I asked. “My birthday is still two days away.”

“It's a little something early pardner,” Dad drawled. “I wanted to see you open it before I leave for Texas tomorrow.” He was going down early to get things in order.

As he hummed “Home on the Range,” I dug
through a mountain of tissue paper. At the bottom of the box was a pair of cowboy boots. I almost swallowed my bubble gum.

“Is this a bribe?” I asked, setting them on the floor.

“No sirree,” he said. “Try 'em on. You can't live in Texas without a good pair of boots. These are genuine stovepipes.” He made a pretend gun with his thumb and forefinger and nudged me on the shoulder. “Pardner.” Reluctantly I tried them on. I could barely stand up.

“Uh, nice,” I said. “Stiff, but nice.” I couldn't move my ankles.

Dad had grown up in Franklin, and he insisted it was the best place in the world to raise a kid. That was all he could talk about. He gave me a double high five. I didn't want to spoil his fun.

I wondered if Dad was going to give Mom a pair of boots too. How funny would that be? Instead of learning to ride horses, we'd have to learn to walk.

Mom had said she would miss her gourmet supper club and their friends, and Gram, of course, but she was sure we would all adjust. My parents had talked about the move for weeks before they decided to leave Seattle, but I had secretly hoped they would change their minds. No such luck. The Sold sign in our front yard made a believer out of me.

“It's not every kid who gets to grow up in a small town,” Dad said.
No kidding
, I thought.

I wobbled over to the sofa and pulled the boots off. My toes had already gone numb.

“As soon as the kids get to know you, you'll have a whole new set of friends,” Mom said.

“Remember when Ryan Morris came to our school last year and everyone made fun of his weird hair?” I reminded her. “No one wanted to sit with him at lunch. He had to sit alone with a hot-lunch plate full of broccoli until he made some friends.”

“And what made you guys finally accept him?” Dad asked.

I couldn't believe he didn't remember. “His dad was the manager of the movie theater. He became the most popular kid in school. Ryan came with free popcorn and movie tickets.”

I saw Gram and Mom trying to hide smiles.

“What if nobody likes me?” I asked. “What if I have to spend the whole school year with only a broccoli spear for a friend?” I cut my eyes across to Dad. “What if you have to buy a movie theater?”

“At least we can see free movies if it comes to that,” Dad said.

When it was time to set the table, Gram said she'd help me. We took the plates and food out to the patio. It was a nice afternoon for a Labor Day picnic. On a clear day
like this we could see Mount Rainier from our deck. Most of the time, we could see snow on its peaks.

“Aren't you going to miss the mountains?” I asked Mom when we sat down to eat.

“Of course,” she said. “But I won't miss the slow drizzle every day and the ice and snow in the winter. At least you won't be playing baseball in the rain anymore.”

“But the sun in Texas might make me melt,” I said. “You could end up with a puddle for a son. That's worse.” I moved my baked beans around on my plate, but everyone ignored me.

“Tell your parents about our show today,” Gram said.

I told them how I had helped Ricky Raccoon when Ella Pearl had tried to eat him alive. Then I told them about his tail getting wedged in the escalator and us getting stranded on the stairs until the security guard got the escalator running again.

“That sounds terrible,” Mom said.

“Couldn't you pry the tail loose?” Dad asked.

“Nope, it was stuck tighter than a bug on flypaper. And the worst part of it is, Ricky's tail is now in shreds. I need to stay here and earn money to buy Gram a new Ricky Raccoon.”

“Or a new escalator,” Dad said, laughing. He poured another cup of coffee and helped himself to Mom's chocolate supreme cake.

When it was almost time for Gram to leave, she handed me a package from her purse. “I've got a gift for Baker too.”

I couldn't believe my luck. “A cell phone? I don't think I'm allowed to have one,” I said, looking at my parents. To my surprise, they smiled.

“I've checked with them already,” Gram said. “They've agreed to my conditions.”

“Conditions?” I flipped the phone open. It was already working. “This is so cool!”

“Your phone comes with prepaid minutes. So don't waste them. Once they're used up, you don't have minutes again until I buy more for you the next month. I'm starting you out with eight hundred and fifty minutes. That's at least ten calls a week. And at least two of those calls need to be to me. Can you call me every Sunday night?”

“Okay,” I said happily.

“And one more thing.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “If you lose it, you have to report it immediately.”

“Oh, I won't lose it,” I said, holding it tight. This was the best gift ever. When no one was paying attention, I sneaked around the house and dialed our number. Mom ran inside the house to answer the phone.

“Hello?” she said.

“Howdy,” I said, adding a little Texas twang that I'd heard in old TV movies.

“Who is this?” Mom asked. I could tell she was annoyed.

“It's me,” I said, disguising my voice like Mr. Brady did when he talked for Leo. “The kid you're moving to Texas.”

Everyone thought my little joke was funny except Mom. Gram gathered up her things to leave.

“Thanks for my cell, Gram,” I said, hugging her. “It's the coolest gift ever. And I'm really sorry about Ricky.”

“Don't sweat the small stuff,” she said. “Ricky'll be fine. And don't forget to call me.”

“I won't,” I said, hoping I wouldn't start to cry.

“And Baker?” Gram whispered in my ear. “Remember. I have a stage, and I will travel.”

Later I got another surprise when I opened the door to my bedroom. Sitting on a chair by my window was a ventriloquist's dummy. He had a note pinned to his Seattle Seagulls baseball uniform. At his feet was a book,
Ventriloquism for Dummies
.