Danny's Doodles Page 5

  Calvin says, “We can’t keep the dog at my house.”

  “What do we do?” I ask.

  “We can’t bring Mitchell back to Aunt Ruth. By now she’s already in Bertha’s car, on their mystery road trip.”

  I’m beginning to understand where Calvin thinks Aunt Ruth’s dog should spend the next week.

  In a way, this is my fault.

  When Calvin said he had a great idea, I should have wished him good luck and said I was too busy to get involved. But I didn’t, and now I’m in trouble.

  We call my house, and I speak to my mother. She tells me a woman named Mildred Foster called and said her nephew won’t be visiting. Mom said, “I told her she must have the wrong number, but then she told me about something called Calvin and Danny’s Rent-A-Pet. What’s that all about?”

  I tell Mom everything.

  She doesn’t sound happy, but she says, “You can keep the dog in the garage. You’ll have to take care of it. Don’t expect me or your father to walk it and clean up after it.”

  She doesn’t say anything about Karen, but I know I can’t expect her to help.

  “And it’s only for one week,” Mom says.

  Calvin takes his books inside. He comes out with a big, white bag.

  “Guess what,” Calvin says.

  I’m afraid to guess.

  “Mom knew we were picking up Mitchell, and she baked dog biscuits. She used her favorite cookie recipe, mixed in some vitamins, shaped them like biscuits, and left them in the oven long enough to get hard.”

  He opens the bag, and I look in.

  They look like dog biscuits, but they smell like cookies.

  “Let’s go,” I say. “Let’s get Mitchell to my house and feed him.”

  On our way, Calvin says, “You’re really the lucky one. We were charging four dollars a day to rent Mitchell, and you’re getting him for free.”

  “No,” I tell him. “You’re the lucky one. You were stuck with your aunt’s dog, and I’m helping you.”

  Our garage door is open, and the garage is mostly empty. Mom has taken out her car. We lead Mitchell right past my unicycle, and I remember the talent show. This weekend, I have to walk, feed, and pet someone else’s dog and practice juggling while riding my unicycle. I’ll be busy.

  I push the button to close the garage door.

  Calvin takes the food and water bowls out of the bag.

  Our garage is attached to the house. I take the water bowl into our kitchen.

  Mom is by the sink, peeling the skin off carrots. They’re for dinner. We always have vegetables at dinner. Mom sees me standing behind her with the bowl and asks, “Is that for the dog?”

  “Yes.”

  Mom takes the bowl from me, fills it about halfway with water, and gives it back.

  “Be careful when you walk with it,” she says. “Don’t spill any.”

  I hold the bowl with both hands and walk slowly to the garage. Mom is right behind me.

  Mitchell is eating from the food bowl. I put the water right next to it.

  “He’s so cute,” my mother says.

  We all stand there and watch Mitchell eat. When he’s done, Mom holds out her arms and says, “Come here, baby. Come to Mama.”

  Come to Mama!!!!

  I bet that’s what she said to me when I was a baby and just learning to walk. I don’t know how I feel about that. Either she’s treating Mitchell like a person and member of the family or she treated me like a miniature collie.

  Mitchell runs into my mother’s arms.

  “You’re a good dog, aren’t you?” Mom says and pets him.

  Mitchell wags his tail. That means he’s happy.

  Mom pets him awhile. Then she goes back to the kitchen and peels some more carrots.

  “Here, doggy,” Calvin says and holds out one of his mother’s dog biscuits. “Here, doggy.”

  Mitchell runs to Calvin and eats the biscuit.

  We play for a while with Mitchell. Even Karen comes in the garage and plays with him.

  Calvin says, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to help.”

  Calvin leaves through the kitchen.

  I look around. There are a lawn mower and other gardening tools in the garage, my unicycle, and a ladder. What will Mitchell do here all afternoon and night? What does any dog do all day?

  Well, Mitchell doesn’t have homework, but I do. I also have to practice juggling and riding my unicycle.

  “Good-bye, Mitchell,” I say and walk toward the door to the kitchen.

  Mitchell looks up at me, tilts his head to the side, and wags his tail.

  I hold out my hands, and he runs to me. I pet him and say, “I’m sorry. I have to go inside and do my homework.”

  Mitchell looks up at me and wags his tail. I think he understands.

  I sit at the desk in my room. It’s sad for me to say this, but I have so much to do today that I sort of “Calvin” my homework. I do it all, but I’m not careful to be sure every answer is right.

  I still have some time before dinner, so I practice juggling with rolled-up socks. I’m getting better. I can easily keep two sock balls in the air but not three.

  After dinner, I go to the garage to take out the unicycle. I need to practice.

  Mitchell runs into my arms.

  Arf! Arf!

  His tail is really wagging. He’s so glad to see me.

  I attach Mitchell’s leash and take him for a walk. I can practice riding my unicycle later.

  * * *

  I get up early Friday morning. Once I’m dressed, I go downstairs. I don’t stop for breakfast. I go to the garage and take Mitchell out. Calvin meets me at his house, and we walk together. Calvin brought a plastic bag to clean up.

  Mitchell stops by a fire hydrant and lifts his leg. I turn. It doesn’t seem polite to watch. He should be done, so I turn. I wish I hadn’t. Now he’s squatting. Don’t ask what he’s doing!

  Calvin cleans up. He drops the plastic bag in a large public garbage can, and we’re done. We bring Mitchell back to my garage and fill his bowls with food and water.

  Calvin already has his schoolbooks. I get mine and tell Calvin it’s too late for breakfast. He looks at Mitchell eating his breakfast. Calvin turns and looks at his mother’s white bag.

  “It’s not too late for anything,” he says.

  Calvin takes four of his mom’s dog biscuits and says, “Let’s go.”

  As we walk, I bite into one of the biscuits. It’s good. I don’t even taste the vitamins.

  I sit in class and think about Mitchell spending all day alone in our garage. Maybe he’ll try riding my unicycle. Maybe by the time I get home, he’ll be real good at it. Then he could be in the talent show instead of me.

  “Danny! Pay attention.”

  I try to, but I keep thinking about what’s happened to me in the last few days.

  I no longer listen in class. I have a unicycle and a pet dog, and I’m learning to juggle. I hardly do my homework, and I eat dog biscuits for breakfast.

  I’m getting odd.

  I’m turning into Calvin.

  It’s a scary thought.

  I get home, and Dad is in the kitchen by the sink. He’s making soup. We always have chicken soup for dinner on Friday night.

  “I already walked the dog,” Dad says. “I fed him too.”

  He turns from the sink and faces me.

  “That dog is fun,” Dad says.

  Everyone likes him. Maybe Calvin is right. Maybe I am lucky to have Mitchell at my house for a whole week.

  It’s Sunday morning. I’m on my way to Calvin’s house with my unicycle. No, I’m not riding it. I’m rolling it. Mrs. Waffle is taking us to the hospital, but first she’s going to dress me up as a clown.

  Calvin is walking toward me. He lo
oks strange. One half of his face from his forehead to his chin is painted blue, and the other half is yellow. His shirt is also strange. It’s a really big T-shirt, and large blue and yellow letters on it spell out “The Juggling Green Clown.”

  “How do I look?” Calvin asks when he gets up to me. “Mom dressed me as the Green Clown.”

  “But you’re not green. You’re blue and yellow.”

  “Aha!” Calvin says real loud. “And blue and yellow make green.”

  I guess if he spins around real fast, the two colors would blend together and look green, but right now, they’re blue and yellow.

  What will his mother do to me?

  I’m a bit scared as the Green Clown and I walk to Calvin’s house.

  Mrs. Waffle is waiting for us by her front door.

  “Come in. Come in,” she says. “I’ve got great plans for your costume.”

  This doesn’t sound good.

  “I thought all yesterday about what sort of clown you should be, and then I thought that decorating you will be like decorating a cake, and I love decorating cakes. I love everything I do at the bakery, especially shooting jelly into jelly donuts. When I do that, I feel like I’m a doctor. Of course, if I were a doctor, I wouldn’t give good children lollipops. I would give them cookies.”

  “Mom,” Calvin says. “The talent show begins soon.”

  “Yes. I should stop talking and start decorating.”

  I follow Mrs. Waffle into the kitchen. On the table is a large cardboard box covered with white icing and small pink icing flowers. There’s a large hole in the middle of the box.

  “You’re going to be the Birthday Cake Clown. You’re a three-layer cake with buttercream filling. That’s the best filling. It’s much better than a tooth filling. But it’s not really the tooth filling I don’t like. It’s all the drilling the dentist does.”

  “Mom,” Calvin says. “We have to hurry.”

  “Yes, of course. Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Mrs. Waffle says as she opens a tube of lipstick. She draws a large red circle on each of my cheeks and smaller circles across my forehead and arms.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she says and puts a cap on my head with birthday candles stuck to the top.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she says. “Let’s go. I’ll put the cake on you when we get there.”

  She puts the cardboard cake in the front seat of her car and my unicycle in the trunk. Calvin and I get in the backseat.

  “I love to juggle,” Calvin says. “This is going to be fun.”

  I’m not so sure I’ll have any fun. I can hardly ride my unicycle and juggle, and I wonder how I’ll do it while wearing a large box covered with icing.

  Mrs. Waffle parks her car by the pediatric part of the hospital. That’s the place for children who are sick. We walk in, and there is a large sign announcing the talent show. It says the show is in the playroom, so that’s where we go.

  It’s a large room. There’s nothing in the middle of the room—just floor. Along the back are a few rows of chairs. Along all the walls are low bookshelves filled with books, toys, and games. There are a few children sitting at round tables near some of the bookshelves. They’re playing games and putting together puzzles.

  Evan is there with his parents. He’s sitting with his broken ankle leg sticking straight out. His crutches are leaning on one side of his chair. His parents are on the other side.

  “Hey! Hey!” Evan calls to us.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Evan’s mother tells us. “Your visits have been really great for Evan. Now we can’t wait to see what you’ll do in the show.”

  I can wait.

  I wish Mrs. Waffle and Evan and his parents weren’t here. I wish no one I know would be watching.

  The show does not begin for another half hour, so I practice riding my unicycle and Calvin practices juggling. He’s juggling jelly donuts. He has a whole bag of them. I forgot to bring things to juggle, so Calvin gives me three donuts.

  Children begin to come into the room. Most of them are in wheelchairs. Annie and Douglas come in with Annie’s parents. They sit in the front row of chairs. My parents and Karen come in and sit in the second row.

  Now I’m really nervous.

  “Welcome, welcome to our Sunday talent show,” a woman standing in the middle of the room says real loud. “I’m Sylvia, and I’m excited. This will be a great show. We have many of our regular performers and a few new ones.”

  People in the room had been talking. Now they’re quiet.

  “Maria Johnson will start us off by singing one of her favorite songs.”

  A girl with long, dark hair turns the wheels on her wheelchair until she’s in the middle of the room. She sings an old song about wanting to hold someone’s hand.

  The good part is she remembers all the words.

  The bad part is she has a squeaky voice.

  A few other children sing. Two boys tell jokes and riddles, and the only one I really like is, “How many teachers does it take to clean a classroom?” The answer is, “None. Teachers have kids clean their classrooms.”

  That’s true.

  Now it’s our turn.

  Mrs. Waffle puts the candle hat and cake on me. I try to sit on the unicycle, but I can’t see the pedals. I look down, and all I see is cardboard and icing. Dad holds me and guides my other foot to the pedal. I keep one foot on the floor to keep my balance.

  “And now,” Excited Sylvia says, “two friends of the hospital, the riding, juggling clowns, Calvin Waffle and Danny Cohen.”

  Calvin goes first.

  He juggles three donuts. He goes faster and faster. Now, as he juggles, he takes bites out of the donuts. With each bite, jelly spills onto his cheeks, shirt, and the floor. The donuts must be his mom’s special ones, with extra squirts of jelly.

  Children in wheelchairs and their nurses cheer and applaud. My friends, my parents, and Karen also applaud.

  The donuts Calvin gave me must be special too.

  This is not good.

  When I juggle and catch the ball, I squeeze it. What will happen when I squeeze the donuts?

  That’s a rhetorical question. I know what will happen.

  “And now,” Excited Sylvia announces, “Danny, the Birthday Cake Clown, will juggle while riding a unicycle.”

  “Are you ready?” Dad whispers.

  I’m not ready, but I say I am.

  Dad lets go of me. I pedal. I toss up one donut and then another. The cardboard birthday cake box sways back and forth, and I can’t keep my balance. I pedal forward and backward. That’s what you do on a unicycle.

  I fall.

  I land on the box, and the hard icing breaks off. The jelly donuts land on me and pop open. I’m covered with icing, icing flowers, and raspberry jelly.

  I just lie there. What else can I do?

  And then I hear it. Children are laughing—really laughing. A small boy in a wheelchair is laughing so hard, he begins coughing. A nurse hurries to him with a cup of water. My friends and family are laughing too.

  Dad hurries to help me up.

  “Are you okay?” he whispers.

  “Yes.”

  Dad takes the cardboard cake off me. He picks up my unicycle, and as we go to sit down, he says, “I didn’t know you were so funny.”

  Funny? Was that what I was? I thought I was clumsy. I thought I was lousy.

  Children are still laughing.

  Dad puts the cardboard cake on a chair in the second row. I sit next to the cake, and Dad sits next to me. Calvin and his mom are in the second row too.

  I was nervous. I was lousy. But it seems that’s okay because I’m dressed as a clown and people thought I was just trying to be funny.

  I pick some icing off the cake and eat it. It’s good.

  “Thank you all so much,” Excit
ed Sylvia says. “This was one of our best shows.”

  I sit there, pick off more icing, and watch as children in wheelchairs roll out of the playroom. Some wave to Calvin and me.

  Mom tells me, “You were really good.”

  “Yeah,” Annie says. “You were very funny.”

  “Good show,” Douglas tells us.

  Excited Sylvia comes over and thanks us.

  “Mostly, it’s the same children in the show every week. It was so nice of you to come. You were both so good. I hope you’ll come again.”

  Calvin, Annie, Douglas, Evan, and I sit by one of the round tables. We eat Mrs. Waffle’s special jelly donuts and talk.

  I don’t say much. Instead, I think about life and how it’s not always fair. Calvin was really great. I wasn’t. All I did was fall off my unicycle and get hit with jelly donuts. But most of the talk is about how funny I was.

  I tell Douglas and Annie about how great it is to have Mitchell as a temporary pet.

  Calvin and Danny’s Rent-A-Pet wasn’t a complete flop. Because of it, I’m proving to my parents and even to Karen how responsible I am. Maybe after we return Mitchell to Calvin’s Aunt Ruth, I can get a dog of my own. Maybe I’ll get a big collie. Maybe I’ll get it for my birthday.

  We talk a little about school, and Evan says he’s looking forward to the week ahead. He’s anxious to be back in school.

  “You want to see the Cakel!” Calvin says as if he’s really surprised. “Why would anyone want to see that woman?”

  “I told you that when you visited. I like being with my friends, and I like learning new things.”

  Douglas says, “All this stuff about George Washington and the Revolution is not new. The fraction and magnet stuff we’re learning is also not new.”

  Evan says, “It’s new to me.”

  We talk some more, and then Annie’s and Evan’s parents say they have to go. The Waffles leave too. Mrs. Waffle lets me keep the candle hat and cardboard cake. I’m glad. I like picking off the icing.

  In the car on the way home with my parents and Karen, I realize I’m also looking forward to the week ahead. I’ll have Mitchell until Thursday, and I’ll have my friends all week. I’ll have them all year—maybe forever.