The Day of the Iguana

Table of Contents

 

 

 

GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2003017966

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-15378-9

 

1098765

 

 

“I HAVE GREAT NEWS,” I said. “Charlie the Clown has diarrhea.”

My best friend, Frankie Townsend, looked at me like my brain had just flopped out of my head and turned into mashed potatoes.

“Hey, man, that is super news,” Frankie said, rolling his eyes. “It's always cool to hear about a clown with stomach problems.”

Ashley Wong, my other best friend, burst out laughing and fell down onto the old couch that we use for meetings in our clubhouse. Our clubhouse is a storage room in the basement of our apartment building.

“Go ahead and laugh, Ashweena,” I said to her. “But you won't be laughing when you hear that there's money in this for us.”

Ashley stopped laughing immediately, like I knew she would. She is the business manager for Magik 3, which is the magic group we started a couple of months ago. We've performed two times for real money. Frankie is the magician, and he's a great one, too. I'm the magician's assistant and all-around idea man. Ashley is really good at the money part, which makes me happy because I don't understand money or change or anything like that.

“Talk to me, Hank,” Ashley said. “I'm hearing a business opportunity.”

“My Aunt Maxine is throwing a birthday party this weekend for my three-year-old twin cousins, Jake and Zack,” I began. “Charlie the Clown was supposed to perform. But it turns out he ate some bad clams at Luigi's Oyster house. Now he's got—”

“Diarrhea,” Frankie and Ashley chimed in, stifling a laugh.

“Right. And he can't do the party.”

“And you suggested to your Aunt Maxine that Magik 3 might just be available?” Ashley asked hopefully.

“Yup. For the low, low bargain price of thirty dollars,” I said. “Ten bucks for each of us.”

“Hank Zipzer, you are a total genius!” Ashley shouted, slapping me a major high five. “What did your aunt say? Did she go for it?”

“Like guppies go for fish food,” I said.

“Zengawii!”
Frankie said, which is a magic word he made up when he was in Zimbabwe last summer. “Charlie the Clown is out and Magik 3 is in!”

We jumped up to do a victory dance, but before we could so much as wiggle our butts, Robert Upchurch appeared at our clubhouse door. Robert thinks he's our best friend just because he lives in our building. We keep trying to tell him he's not, but nothing we say will convince him of that. Even though he's only in third grade and we're all in fourth grade, he still sticks to us like peanut butter sticks to your braces.

“A word of advice,” Robert chimed in without being asked. “Three-year-olds are a tough audience.”

One annoying thing about Robert is that he offers information even when no one asks for it. Another annoying thing about Robert is that his information is almost always right. That's really hard to stomach.

“Guys, the little man does have a point,” Frankie whispered to us. “Three-year-olds can barely pee in a toilet, how are they going to pick a card, any card, and remember what it is?”

“For ten bucks each, we'll make it work,” said Ashley.

“We have something else we have to make work,” I pointed out. “My aunt and uncle live all the way out on Long Island in Westhampton, and my parents are planning on spending the night. Do you think your parents will let you go?”

“Mine will,” Robert said. “No problem here.”

“Robert, the name of the group is Magik 3, not Magik 4,” Ashley pointed out.

“That's three-Hank, Ashley, and me,” Frankie added.

Robert looked at us with sad little puppy dog eyes on his sad little skinny face.

“Guys, you wouldn't go without me, would you?” he whined. “You're my best friends.”

“No, we're not, Robert.”

“What are you going to do? Leave me here all weekend?”

“Yes,” we all said in unison.

“You can't go without me,” Robert said. “Can you picture it? You out there on Long Island having ice cream and cake, and me, back here, eating a frozen breakfast burrito with freezer burn?”

Robert sure knows how to guilt you.

“You don't even have to pay me anything. I'll assist for free.”

“Actually, you'd have to pay us,” Ashley said.

“It's a deal,” said Robert. “Seventy-five cents apiece.”

“A dollar,” said Ashley. I told you she's great with money matters.

“Give me a break, Ashley,” said Robert. “I only get a third-grade allowance. And a dollar is seven-eighths of it.”

Ashley glanced over at me to see what we should do. I couldn't decide. We would definitely have more fun if we left Robert behind in New York. But he really wanted to go, and we're not coldhearted kids. At least not totally.

1. Westhampton is at the beach, and it's very windy. Robert could get picked up by the wind and blown out to sea. Okay, it doesn't happen often, but it could.

2. A flock of seagulls could mistake Robert for a large rodent and swoop down and carry him off to their nest. Okay, it doesn' t happen often, but it happens.

3. Robert is a walking, talking encyclopedia of facts. My Aunt Maxine gets a rash if she hears too many facts.

4. My Uncle Gary gets a rash if my Aunt Maxine gets a rash.

5. There is only a limited amount of oxygen in the car and let's face it, Robert just sucks in too much of it.

6. Robert is so skinny he could slip through a crack in the seat and we could lose him and never know it.

7. Robert has such bad allergies that the beach air would make his nose run so much there isn't enough Kleenex in all of Long Island to handle the slime.

8. The twins are having an ice-cream birthday cake and Robert himself has told me many times (way too many times) that ice cream gives him mucus build-up.

9. He'd have to sit next to my weird younger sister Emily in the backseat of the minivan and-

Wait a minute. Hank Zipzer, look what you just came up with. Robert would have to sit next to my sister Emily in the car! THAT MEANS I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO HER!!

WHEN I POINTED OUT to Frankie and Ashley that they wouldn't have to sit next to Emily either, they agreed to let Robert come along. No one wants to get stuck next to my younger sister for two hours in a backseat. It's not like she smells bad or anything. It's just that she talks all the time about weird stuff. The mating habits of iguanas is a favorite topic of hers.

“Okay, Robert, you can come,” I said.

These words did not pop easily out of my mouth.

Robert jumped up and shook his bony butt in a victory dance, which is something I hope you never have to see.

“I told my aunt I'd let her know tomorrow if we can do the show,” I said. “So check with your parents to see if Saturday and Sunday are okay.”

“Wait, wait, wait ...” Frankie said. “Zip, did you mean to say the party is this Saturday?”

“Yeah. Is there a problem?”

“Not a problem,” said Frankie. “A tragedy. Make that a catastrophe.”

“What's wrong?” I didn't like the look on Frankie's face.

“This Saturday is the Monster Movie Marathon on Channel 48,” he said. “All monsters all the time. These twins are how old?”

“Three.”

“That's bad. We all remember the three-year-old-birthday-party drill, right? Twelve thirty pizza. One o‘clock magic show. One thirty piñata. Two o'clock cake and ice cream. Two thirty party favors. Two thirty-five balloon tied around kids' wrists. Two forty pick up. And parents, please be prompt.”

“What are you, a walking invitation?” I said.

“Hear me, Zip.” Frankie suddenly looked very serious. “That schedule puts the magic show smack in the middle of
The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo
starring Vic Avalanche. I've been waiting to see that movie since the day I was born. Before, even.”

“Frankie, are you saying you'd turn down a career opportunity for a stupid monster movie?” Ashley asked.

“I didn't hear that, Ashweena,” Frankie said. “I can't believe that you, of all people, would call
The Mutant Moth That Ate Toledo
a stupid monster movie. It's an underground classic. Aboveground, too. I'm sorry, guys. I just can't go.”

“Frankie,” I said, sitting down on a cardboard box that was filled with our neighbor Mrs. Fink's extra bathrobes. “I just want you to know this. When I was on the phone with my Aunt Maxine, and she told the twins that we might come perform at their party, I heard them in the background. They weren't just yelling and screaming with excitement. They were crazed with happiness. They were jumping up and down on their pudgy little legs, and one of them, Zack I think, even threw himself on the hardwood floor. I heard the thud. But if you think a monster movie is more important than bringing that kind of joy into their little lives, then I think YOU should call them and tell them.”