Who Ordered This Baby? Definitely Not Me! Page 5

  Let’s see. Should I get a pink high-bounce ball or a remote-controlled mini racer or…

  “Henry!” a voice said. “Would you please inform the class about the three types of cloud formations?”

  “A Nerf boomerang,” I said, before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth. I was so deep in my birthday party plans, I had completely lost focus and forgot that I was actually sitting at my desk in class and Ms. Adolf was conducting a lesson in science vocabulary.

  “Excuse me, Henry. Why are you speaking such gibberish? A boomerang, nerfy or otherwise, has no place in a science discussion.”

  “I once heard that if you threw a boomerang hard enough into a cloud, you could create rain,” I said, trying to come up with some way to cover my wandering brain.

  “Once again, Zipperbutt proves himself to be Mr. Stupid.” Nick McKelty laughed, spitting bits of graham cracker into the back of my head. Trust me, you don’t want to have the seat in front of McKelty, especially when he’s sneaking graham cracker treats from a baggy he hides in his free-reading book.

  “At least I’m not a food cannon,” I said to McKelty. “By the way, you still have bits of marshmallow stuck up your nose.”

  He didn’t, but I sure had fun saying it.

  McKelty grabbed his pencil and used the eraser as a shovel to try to dig out the made-up bits of marshmallow. It didn’t matter that the marshmallow wasn’t there. It was great just watching him go for them and hearing the class crack up into hysterics.

  “Pupils, you know I don’t appreciate laughter, especially in class,” Ms. Adolf said. “School is no place for fun. Now are you ready to answer the question, Henry?”

  “I really am, Ms. Adolf. I am totally, one hundred percent ready. The answer is on the tip of my tongue. If I could just remember the question, the answer would come flying out of my mouth.”

  “For the life of me, I don’t understand why you don’t remember the question. What could possibly be more important than the subject at hand?”

  “If you really want to know, Ms. Adolf, I was thinking about my birthday and making plans for a really special party.”

  When I said the “really special party” part, I turned to Ashley and shot the words right to her. I wanted her to know that I was completely capable of having a fine time all by myself. Then I turned to Frankie, who sits on the other side of me.

  “It’s going to involve pizza and balloons and possibly yellow cake with chocolate frosting,” I whispered to him. “You know, the kind of cake that’s your favorite, too.”

  “Hey, dude, I feel really bad about your party,” Frankie whispered. “Not being able to come and all.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Besides, I can’t talk to you now. Ms. Adolf and I are having a very interesting conversation about clouds.”

  “Are you two quite finished with your idle chitchat?” Ms. Adolf boomed, tapping her grey shoe on the floor in a definitely irritated way.

  Wow, look at that. She has a Band-Aid on her heel. And even that is grey. I have never seen a grey Band-Aid before. I’ve seen Spider-Man Band-Aids. And Star Wars Band-Aids. And fluorescent Snoopy Band-Aids. But I’ve never seen a grey one. Maybe she paints them.

  “Henry, if you don’t want an extra homework packet as a birthday present from me, I suggest you pay attention. Now.”

  “Right, Ms. Adolf. My brain is all yours. Fill her up.”

  I tried to listen, but my thoughts had other plans. They were back at Harvey’s, smelling that sizzling pepperoni, putting up birthday streamers, buying paper hats and horns, and filling that silver balloon with helium.

  When the lunch bell finally rang, and I headed out the door, Frankie and Ashley caught up with me in the hall.

  “Hey, Zip,” Frankie said. “You know I wouldn’t miss your b-day unless it was something majorly important.”

  “Like shopping for a baby you don’t even know,” I said. “That’s majorly important, for sure.”

  “Our moms are making us do it,” Ashley said. “They said it’s important that we celebrate the announcement.”

  “Yeah, well, let me make my own announcement to you,” I said. “I, Hank Zipzer, am going to have the most sensational party known to mankind and cumulus clouds, for that matter.”

  “Who you inviting, dude?”

  “I have one friend who’s not on baby patrol. She happens to have eight legs, but then, that’s all the more of her to enjoy.”

  “The spider?” Ashley said.

  “Excuse me, she has a name. Which happens to be Rosa. And for your information, she knows how to get down at a party.”

  “Dude, you have lost your mind,” Frankie said.

  “Correction. It’s everyone else around here who has lost their mind over this baby coming. No one even remembers what’s important anymore.”

  “Like your birthday?” Ashley said.

  “Funny you should mention it. That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “You’re really taking this hard, aren’t you, dude?” Frankie said.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Everyone should do exactly what they want to do. My parents want to have that diaper captain and spend all their time powdering its rear end, good for them. You guys want to hang out at a warehouse in New Jersey, be my guest. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish planning my birthday bash-zip-ola.”

  I turned around and walked the other way. I think it was the first time since kindergarten that I wasn’t having lunch with Frankie and Ashley.

  That baby wasn’t even born yet, and it was screwing up everything…even lunch period. What was next? Recess?

  CHAPTER 14

  “Hey, Zip,” Frankie said after school that day. “Can you meet in my apartment at four o’clock?”

  “Why?” I asked him. “What are you going to do, throw me a party?”

  “Have you forgotten, dude? I love chopped liver,” Frankie said.

  “No, you don’t. As a matter of fact, last time we had it, you said it looks like the stuff that collects between your toes.”

  “No, Zip. It’s your grandfather’s bowling team celebration on Monday. Remember? February 8. And we’re…”

  “Oh right, doing magic. I forgot. What trick are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the biting the quarter in half trick. Or possibly pulling Cheerio out of my top hat. But I haven’t done that in a really long time, which is why we need to rehearse this afternoon.”

  “Well, Frankie, I’m afraid you’re going to have to start without me. I’m going to be a little late. But you can pick up Cheerio. I don’t think he has a playdate.”

  “Where are you going to be?”

  “I got stuff to do.”

  “Stuff, as in?”

  “Balloons and hats. Cool party favors. That kind of stuff. I’d get you some, but oh right, you’re going to be in New Jersey.”

  We had reached the corner of 78th and Amsterdam Avenue. To get to our apartment, Frankie was going to continue straight down 78th for another half a block. Me, I was planning to take a right up Amsterdam. I was heading for the 99-cent store. Now that I’m in the fifth grade, I’m allowed to walk home by myself because our apartment is only two blocks away. Technically, walking home doesn’t really include the 99-cent store, but the store is within the two-block limit, even though it’s in another direction. So I made the decision that I wasn’t really breaking the rules, I was just bending them a little. Well, I really wasn’t bending them, I was twisting them. Maybe not even a twist. Maybe a tweak. Yeah, I was tweaking the rules. Surely my parents couldn’t be angry about that. A bend I understand, but a tweak? Come on.

  “So I’ll see you in a little while, then?” Frankie said.

  “Whenever.”

  “Not whenever, Zip. Get there as soon as you can. Or did you forget that you are my all-important assistant? If you don’t hand me the quarter, I can’t bite it in half.”

  “Ashley can do it.”


  “She’s our business manager, Hank. Between you and me, she doesn’t have your dramatic flare. You’re the best assistant a magician could ask for, dude.”

  He must’ve felt really bad for flaking out on my party, because now he was really buttering me up. He used so much butter that I felt like I was sliding down the sidewalk.

  Frankie headed home and I turned right up Amsterdam Avenue. I passed the Silver Star Café, where people were sitting sipping coffee in the window. I saw Mrs. Fink. She must have been stirring her coffee, because she waved to me with her spoon still in her hand. I wondered if she’d like to come to my party.

  Hank, get ahold of yourself. She’d make you dance the cha-cha and eat her cherry strudel.

  When I reached the 99-cent store, I went in and found the birthday party section. It was full of paper plates and cups and party hats and noisemakers and little bags of toys that would make fun party favors.

  “May I help you?” a clerk said. She was a tall woman with a big smile and a pin that said her name. In case you’re interested, it was Vivian.

  “Well, ma’am…”

  “Call me Vivian, honey. Everyone does.”

  “Well, Vivian, I’m throwing myself a birthday party, and I notice that all these supplies seem to be in packs of eight. My party is a little bit smaller than that.”

  “How many are coming, honey?”

  “I believe that would be one and a half.”

  “A half?”

  “I’m the one, and my tarantula is the half.”

  “You’re inviting a spider to your party?”

  “As a matter of fact, she’s the guest of honor. And pretty excited about it.”

  “So none of your other friends are coming?”

  “Funny you should ask. They’re actually going to be in New Jersey that day, so I figured, I can entertain myself and have a great party without them.”

  “Good for you,” Vivian said, giving me a big smile. “You sound like a very independent and resourceful kid.”

  Well, finally, here was someone who appreciated me.

  “So, I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t seem to have any hats small enough to fit a large spider,” I said.

  “To tell you the truth, you’re the first kid I’ve ever met who’s made that request,” Vivian said. “Let’s see what else you need.”

  Vivian was really nice. We picked out a pack of blue party hats and a silver balloon. They were out of the Happy Birthday balloons, but I really wanted a silver one, so I picked one that said, “Get Well Soon.” Why not? Everyone wants to be well. The only other silver balloon they had said, “Welcome New Baby,” and you can understand why that one stayed in the store.

  The good thing about having a party for one is that you can get a party favor you really want. None of those paddles with elastic string and bouncy rubber balls that break the first time you use them, sending the ball shooting across the room. No mini Rubik’s cube on a key chain. I once turned that thing for a month and never got even one color all solid. No little bags of jelly beans where once you throw out all the purple ones that taste like the way my mom’s perfume smells, you’re left with mostly banana-flavored ones, which are even worse because there’s nothing banana about them.

  I picked the large-size whoopee cushion, which never fails to crack me up. And for Rosa, I picked a rubbery slimy spider that sticks when you throw it against the wall. Not only that, it glows in the dark. I thought she’d get a kick out of that.

  When it came time to check out, Vivian was really, really nice. She gave me a twenty-percent discount.

  “Anyone who throws himself his own birthday party deserves a gift,” she said. And the discount was her gift to me.

  I have no idea how much twenty percent of five dollars and fifty-three cents is. But let me put it this way. I handed her a five-dollar bill and I got some change. I have no idea how much change I got back. I can’t do that kind of math in my head. But if you wait until I get home, I can let you know.

  When I left the store, I was feeling pretty darn good.

  The plans were in action. The supplies were bought. The guest list was short and sweet. And the only thing left to do was to party like a madman.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next day was Saturday, a perfect day for a birthday party. I know, I know. My actual birthday wasn’t until Sunday, but as I told myself when I woke up, I am an independent party planner, party giver, and partygoer, and I can throw myself a party any old day I want. Besides, all the party supplies were sitting on the table next to my bed, staring me in the face, and I just couldn’t wait anymore.

  Oh, yeah. Also I had nothing to do that day.

  So I got up and went to my drawer and took out the brand-new grey hooded Mets sweatshirt Papa Pete had bought me that I had been saving for the most special occasion I could think of. And to tell you the truth, I couldn’t think of a more special one than today. I put that sucker on, and party time shot through my body. I had a bounce in my step as I headed to the kitchen for breakfast that you would swear made me look like the happiest guy in the world. I had to remind myself the entire way from my room to the kitchen not to eat too much for breakfast, so I had room for what was coming.

  “Hi, honey,” my mom said when I walked through the kitchen door. She was sitting at the table sipping elderberry tea and reading a book. “Don’t you look nice today. What’s the occasion?”

  “Well, I have a few special plans for today,” I said, pouring myself a glass of orange juice.

  “That’s nice. What do you think of the name Ralph? And there was another one…where is it now…ah, Digman…would that be too unusual?”

  There that baby was again, splashing around in my glass of orange juice. Suddenly, I didn’t want it anymore. In fact, I didn’t even want to be at the breakfast table anymore. I had completely lost my appetite.

  “I’ll see you later, Mom,” I said.

  “But you didn’t eat anything.”

  “I’m saving my appetite for Harvey’s,” I said. “I’m planning on going there for lunch, if that’s okay.”

  That got her attention. She put down the baby-name book and looked up.

  “Who are you going with?” she asked.

  “Rosa.”

  “You and the spider are going for pizza?”

  “Yup. It’s kind of a birthday celebration, since no one else seems to be doing much planning around here.”

  My mom got up, came over, and gave me a hug. “Hank, I told you. We’ve planned a very nice family dinner tomorrow for your birthday.”

  “I know, Mom. But Rosa planned this event, and you know how tarantulas are. Once they get something in their mind, they just can’t be talked out of it. Don’t worry, I’ll be back by two.”

  “Take my cell phone and call me when you get there,” she said. “And no crossing over Broadway. And no talking to strangers. And keep your wallet in your front pocket. And don’t forget your house key. And…”

  “Mom, I’m just going down the block. Not to Antarctica.”

  “Right, honey. Just remember to push the number-two key, which is the speed dial for home. I’ll be here all morning.”

  Yeah, picking baby names.

  I got up to leave.

  “Oh, by the way, Mom. About Digman. It sucks.”

  CHAPTER 16

  TEN OTHER BABY NAMES THAT SUCK MORE THAN DIGMAN

  Buttcheeks

  Howie

  King Mucus the 5th

  Madame Lovehandles

  Stinky

  Rhino Haunch

  Puddles

  Cutie Pie la Rue

  Hairball La Pew

  Farty Arty

  P.S. I left this list on my mom’s pillow before I left. I thought she’d find it helpful.

  CHAPTER 17

  I went into my room and yelled, “It’s party time, Rosa!”

  She didn’t seem as excited as I had hoped. As a matter of fact, she was asleep under a rock. I had the perfect
thing to get her excited.

  “Hey, look what I made for you,” I said, going over to my desk and picking up the bag of party supplies I had bought at the 99-cent store. I pulled out the smallest party hat ever made, just the right size for a tarantula. I had worked on it the night before. What I did was cut off the very tip of one of the party hats in the package of six. That tip made a mini cone no bigger than your little fingernail. I even cut the elastic band down to Rosa’s size and attached it to either side of the itsy-bitsy hat, being careful not to glue my fingers together like I usually do with superglue.

  “Look, Rosa, you’ve got your own party hat! How many tarantulas do you know who can say that?”

  That did it. She stuck one of her hairy legs out from under the rock, then a second, and so on, until all eight of her gorgeous legs were creeping around her tank. I think she was trying to get a glimpse of her new head wear. She seemed to like it. At least, I think that’s what it means when a tarantula’s body starts to bounce up and down on all eight legs. Either that or she was hungry for a cricket. But at the moment, I chose to go with the hat theory.

  I gathered up the other supplies I had bought for my party. The silver balloon that said “Get Well Soon” was still floating on its string, with plenty of bounce left in it from the day before. I tied it around my wrist, so I could carry it to Harvey’s without losing it. I put the party favors, hats, and horns into a plastic grocery bag. I had wrapped the whoopee cushion and Rosa’s party favor using the comics section from the New York Post and a lot of Scotch tape. It might seem weird to wrap your own present, but I think a big part of the fun of getting a present is pulling the paper off, and I wanted to be able to do that. Of course, I’d have to help Rosa, but that would be fun, too.

  I grabbed the handle on top of her plastic tank and headed for the door.