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Authors: Kevin Henkes

The Year of Billy Miller (9 page)

BOOK: The Year of Billy Miller
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Billy pinched his eyes closed with his thumb and index finger. Oh no, he thought. Here we go again.

But right after that, they pulled into the parking lot. Gabby said, “We’re here!” And to Billy’s great relief, Sal let out a little squeak of joy.

2

Once inside the restaurant, Sal was a different person. She became chatty and playful, almost giddy. “I love it here,” she said. “I really, really
love
it here. So do the girls.” She kissed the Drop Sisters one by one, then plunked each down on the seat beside her. Gabby had requested a booth to accommodate the Drop Sisters, which also made enough space for everyone’s mittens, hats, scarves, and puffy winter jackets.

“There sure is a lot to look at,” said Gabby. “It’s like being inside a pinball machine.”

Billy was mesmerized. They were surrounded by blinking lights, paper lanterns, and flickering traffic signs. A train ran continuously on a track around the room. The track was attached to a ledge that was mounted to the wall. Brightly colored, miniature hot air balloons inched back and forth on wires overhead, crisscrossing the ceiling. And large papier-mâché animals were stationed between the tables. Billy’s favorite was a lion whose mouth was open wide, showing a mountain range of jagged teeth.

But the best thing about Ruby’s Cupboard was the food, especially the onion rings, which were as big as donuts. It was the kind of food Mama and Papa didn’t approve of, except on special occasions. So, Billy tried to enjoy every single second of every single mouthful.

While they were eating their hot fudge sundaes, the family at the table next to theirs broke into a lively rendition of “Happy Birthday.”


We
should celebrate something,” said Sal.

“No singing,” said Billy. He did
not
want to be embarrassed.

“We could celebrate your dad’s show or the beautiful snowfall,” Gabby suggested.

“We could celebrate
me
,” said Sal.

“I know!” said Billy. “We can celebrate the Year of the Dragon. I’ll show you.” He searched for his jacket and dug into one of the pockets. He pulled out two things: an envelope and a pearl. “I almost forgot about these.”

“What is it?” asked Sal. Her eyes had zeroed in on the pearl.

“Ms. Silver told us about the Year of the Dragon today. The Chinese New Year started on Monday. It’s different than our New Year because theirs is lunar, which means the moon,” Billy explained. “We didn’t do anything special at school for the Year of the Rabbit, so Ms. Silver had a dragon party today. We ate tangerines because they’re a symbol of good luck. And we watched Chinese dancers on the computer.”

Billy paused, trying to remember everything Ms. Silver had taught them. “The dragon can have the head of a donkey and the body of a snake. Or it can just be a dragon.”

“But what’s
that
?” Sal asked, still focused on the pearl.

“Oh,” said Billy. “The dragon carries a pearl in its claws. The pearl means it has supernatural powers. So, Ms. Silver gave one to everybody.” He held up the pearl and rolled it between his fingers. “It’s magic.” He acted as if the pearl were coming to life in his hand.

“What’s the envelope?” asked Gabby.

“It’s an empty envelope, but it has a dragon stamp on it. It’s official—a real stamp. Ms. Silver’s brother works at the post office. See?” Billy presented the envelope so that Gabby and Sal could look at the dragon stamp. “Ms. Silver said we should write a letter to someone.”

“To wish them a happy lunar New Year?” asked Gabby.

“Sure,” said Billy. “Or, Ms. Silver said we could use it for a thank you note or to tell someone you appreciate them. She said no one writes letters anymore, and it’s a nice thing to do.”

“You could write Ms. Silver a thank you note for the envelope,” said Sal.

Gabby smiled.

Billy shot Sal a dismissive look.

“Can I have the pearl?” asked Sal.

“Nope,” said Billy.

Gabby clapped her hands. “Okay, everyone get a big spoonful of ice cream. On the count of three we’ll eat them. Then make a dragon face and roar—softly. And we’ll have a good year.”

Gabby counted. They all ate. They all made dragon faces. They roared.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” said Gabby. She pushed away the remains of her sundae. She sighed loudly and placed her hands on her belly.

“Do you have a food baby?” asked Billy.

Gabby laughed. “I think I do,” she said. “Where did you learn that expression?”

“Kids say it at school.”

“What’s a food baby?” asked Sal.

“It’s when you eat so much,” said Billy, “your stomach feels big and you feel like you’re having a baby.”

“Boys can’t have babies,” said Sal.

“Boys can have food babies,” said Billy.

“Okay, you two, let’s bundle up and go home,” said Gabby.

It took them a while to dress for outside.

“Can I get a cup of coffee to go?” Billy asked Gabby as he adjusted his scarf.

“Are you crazy?” she said. “You don’t drink coffee. And you’d be up all night.”

That’s my plan, thought Billy.

Gabby tugged Billy’s knitted cap over his eyes, then pulled it up and flashed him a toothy grin. “You’re funny,” she said. She tossed the pillowcase with the Drop Sisters over her shoulder, like Santa Claus with his bag of toys, and led the way out the door and into the wintry world.

“It’s cold!” said Sal.

It was. And Billy felt the cold press against his face, stinging his eyes and nose, but deep within himself he felt a core of warmth—because of the food and because he was getting excited about staying up all night.

As they tramped to the car, Sal tweaked Billy’s jacket sleeve. Snowflakes were catching in her eyelashes, turning them to lace. “What are you going to do with the magic pearl?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Billy. And he truly didn’t. But he did know one thing—he was not going to give it to Sal. He didn’t really think the pearl had supernatural powers, but
she
thought so. And that made the pearl very powerful indeed.

3

Billy crept along the hallway and turned the corner. The strip of golden light that had been shining from beneath the guest-room door was gone, meaning Gabby was asleep. Billy crept back to his room and quietly shut the door. He switched on his bedside lamp, then jammed a sweatshirt under the door so the light wouldn’t leak into the hallway, drawing attention to himself, exposing his plan.

Sal had been asleep for a long time. Like a tree dropping its leaves all at once, she’d collapsed in a heap on the sofa right after they’d returned from the restaurant. She was probably exhausted from all her crying. Or from asking Billy if she could have his magic pearl, which she’d done about a dozen times in the car on the ride home.

After Gabby had carried Sal up to bed, Billy showed Gabby his Christmas presents. Then they played Crazy Eights. Gabby yawned frequently, covering her mouth with the fan of cards she held.

Billy wished that Gabby would stop yawning. It was contagious. He began yawning, too, and felt himself growing sleepy—the last thing he wanted to be.

“One more hand,” said Gabby. “Then bed.” She yawned again.

“Already?” asked Billy. “I thought we could watch a movie or play a board game.” His eyes were pleading.

“Oh, Billy, I can’t,” said Gabby. “It’s late. And you’re yawning, too.”

BOOK: The Year of Billy Miller
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