A Brand-New Me! Page 8

  On Monday, Nick McKelty was particularly obnoxious at school. Right before lunch, he grabbed all my Number Two pencils and broke them in half, for no reason.

  “This is perfect, Zipperbutt,” he said, handing them back to me. “You’re short, and now you got short pencils, just like you.”

  It took me all of lunch to figure out how to get him back, but finally I came up with a brilliant plan. I used two halves of one of my broken pencils like chopsticks, and picked up one of Luke Whitman’s already-been-used nose tissues. Being very careful not to let any part of my body make contact with it, I carried the disgusting thing back to class and carefully slipped it in to McKelty’s sweatshirt pocket. When he stuck his stubby hands in there on the way home from school, he was going to get a delightfully slimy surprise.

  I thought that was going to be the highlight of my day, but boy, did I have a surprise waiting for me when I got home.

  “This letter came for you today,” my mom said the minute I walked into the apartment.

  I don’t get many letters. Actually, I don’t get any letters except a card on my birthday from my aunt Maxine. I really like that letter because it always has a crisp ten dollar bill in it. I held up this letter to the light to see if there was a ten dollar bill in it. No such luck.

  “Why don’t you read it to me, Mom? It’s probably someone wanting me to subscribe to Highlights for Children.”

  “I don’t think so,” my mom said, “because the return address is from the Professional Performing Arts School.”

  “Oh great. I get to find out a second time that I didn’t get in.”

  My mom opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

  “Dear Hank,” she read. “It was a real pleasure for the three of us to meet you. We really enjoyed your imagination and your positive spirit. We’ve talked over your application with the entire admissions committee at great length. And we feel that if you agree to work on the academic areas that are difficult for you, such as cold reading, then we are happy to offer you a spot in the middle school class starting this September.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “Mom, could you check the name at the top of the letter and see if it’s really addressed to HankZipzer. Maybe there was another Zipzer who applied.”

  “Honey, it says your name right here. This letter is for you. It’s signed by Trudi, Garry, and Tom. And wait, there’s a handwritten note at the bottom. It’s from Garry and it says, ‘Funny is good. Welcome, Hank.’”

  At first I couldn’t say one word. I just stood there letting the words in that letter wash over me. Finally, they must have sunk as far as they were going to go into my brain, and I just exploded.

  “I GOT IN!” I said, over and over again. “I’m in! I was accepted! They want me to come there! I was accepted! I can’t believe it! Mom, can you believe it? I got in! I got in! I got in!”

  CHAPTER 24

  It took me less than forty seconds to race to the telephone.

  “Who are you calling, honey?” my mom asked.

  “I’m calling the school to say yes, before they change their mind.”

  “Do you think you might need the phone number?” she said, holding the letter up.

  “Another brilliant suggestion from the Mom department! Reel it off to me.”

  She did just that, saying the numbers in quick succession. My dialing finger did not budge.

  “Oh, mom-o,” I said. “Remember, it’s me, Hank. I need one number at a time, really slowly.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking.”

  It seemed like the ringing on the other end went on forever until someone finally picked up the phone. I didn’t ask who it was, I just blurted out, “Yes!”

  The man on the other end said, “Excuse me?”

  “This is Hank Zipzer, and yes, I accept.”

  He laughed.

  “I think you want the office,” he said. “They’re already closed for the day. I’m William, the custodian, but here everyone calls me Tiny which by the way, I’m not.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tiny,” I said. “I’m going to be a student there in the fall, so I’ll get to meet you in person.”

  “You sound like a nice kid, Hank. Congratulations on getting in.”

  When I hung up, I felt like a million bucks. Everyone at that school was so nice and welcoming.

  As soon as I got off the phone, my mom suggested that we should have a family meeting to tell my dad and Emily the good news. Emily was really glad for me, although Katherine expressed some negative feelings. At least, I think they were negative feelings. I don’t know iguana speak, but I’m pretty sure when her tongue shot out and she hissed into my face for twenty seconds, she wasn’t asking me to dance.

  My dad’s reaction was a little more complicated. He was half mad, half glad, and half doubtful. I know that’s too many halves, but that’s the way I saw his reaction.

  “Look, Hank. You know this artsy school wouldn’t be my first choice for you, but if you’re so sure of it, go ahead and give it a try.”

  “I’m going to work really hard there, Dad.”

  “Well, that would be a nice change, wouldn’t it? Meanwhile, congratulations.”

  That didn’t exactly feel like the way congratulations should feel, but knowing my dad, it was the best I was going to get.

  “Hank,” my mom said. “Why don’t you walk over to Papa Pete’s apartment and tell him the good news.”

  “Why don’t I just call him?”

  “I think it would be really nice for you to give him this news in person. And here’s an idea. Why don’t you stay at Papa Pete’s and do your homework there, and we’ll meet you at the Crunchy Pickle for a little family dinner.”

  “Do I have to order soylami, or can I get a real pastrami sandwich?” I asked.

  “Well, this is a special occasion so real meat it is.”

  Just then, Katherine hissed again.

  “And no, Madame Iguana, you can’t have a bite. It’s my pastrami, not yours.”

  “Iguanas are primarily herbivores, Hank. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Yes, Emily, I do. I know that I’m going to Professional Performing Arts. And in the future, I’d prefer that you keep your insults, put downs, and other rude remarks to yourself.”

  “Okay, I’ll call Robert and insult him. He doesn’t mind.”

  I took my book bag and jacket and said good-bye to Cheerio. I don’t think he actually understood what was going on, which makes sense, because dogs don’t really go to middle school, as far as I know. But he could sense something good was going on, because he gave me extra licks on my way out.

  When I got to Papa Pete’s and told him the news, he started to cry.

  “What’s wrong, Papa Pete?” I asked him.

  “What’s wrong? Everything is right! I knew you could do this. You were so worried and look what you’ve accomplished. I am overjoyed for you, and so proud of you, young man, that my buttons are popping off my shirt.”

  Then he swept me up in his big, strong arms and gave me the bear hug of all time.

  And then a surprising thing happened. I started to cry, too, which took me by total surprise. I don’t know where those tears came from . . . maybe from I’m-the-Happiest-Kid-on-the-Planet-Land. But they just came pouring out. And there we were, Papa Pete and me, hugging like there was no tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 25

  Two hours later, when I pushed open the glass door to the Crunchy Pickle, it was alive with energy. Everyone I knew was there. As I walked in, they all screamed, “Hooray for Hank!” and started clapping. I started clapping, too.

  I looked over at my mom, who was smiling at me from behind the meat counter, where she was making sandwiches alongside Carlos and Vlady.

  “I thought a party was pretty necessary,” she said.

  Then I saw Frankie and Ashley, who came running up to me and jumped on me like I had just hit a home run in the World Series. We wound up in a he
ap on the floor, and before I knew it, we went from a pile of three to a pile of five when Luke Whitman and Ryan Shimozato decided to join in.

  “You pulled off a great one,” Luke said, spraying saliva in my face. I didn’t even care about his spitting problem because I knew he didn’t mean to be gross.

  Ryan didn’t say anything. He just kept pounding me on the top of my head, which I think means congratulations. It was fun at first, and then I finally said, “Come on, guys. Get off me. You’re squishing my stomach.”

  “How cool are you, Zip,” Frankie said.

  “Very cool,” I answered. “I knew I’d get in all along.”

  “Right, and my name is Bernice,” Frankie said.

  “I am so happy for you, Hank,” Ashley said. “I’ve decided I’m going to rhinestone a baseball cap for you that says P.P.A.S.”

  “P.P.A.S.?” I asked. “What does that spell?”

  “Earth to Hank. It’s the initials of the school you’re going to . . . as in Professional Performing Arts School.”

  “Right,” I said. “I knew that.”

  “Yeah, and his name is Bernice,” she answered, pointing to Frankie.

  The three of us cracked up, just like we’d been doing since preschool.

  Before I knew it, Frankie and Ashley jumped up on the seat of one of the turquoise booths. Frankie picked up his glass of apricot-mango juice and called for everyone’s attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and children of all ages,” he called out. I remember hearing a ringmaster say that at the circus when we were little. He always loved it.

  “Ashley and I would like to propose a toast to our best friend, Hank ‘I’m Going Places’ Zipzer. You did it, pal. You’re on your way!”

  “Let’s hear it for Hank,” Ashley chimed in.

  As I looked around the room, I saw almost everyone I knew raising their apricot-mango juice glasses toward me. I mean, everyone. There was Mr. Rock, who shot me a big thumbs-up. And Dr. Berger who looked so proud. Mrs. Fink, who had finally changed out of her bathrobe for the occasion, winked at me. And even the girls from school were there, Kim Paulson and Katie Sperling and my good friend Heather Payne.

  Suddenly, Robert Upchurch, Emily’s pencil-neck boyfriend, jumped up to join Frankie and Ashley on the booth seat. Of course, he fell off immediately because he is such a skinny weakling and Frankie had to pull him out from under the table. When he finally regained his balance and stood up on the booth again, he cleared his throat, which sounded like he had been keeping a small hippopotamus hidden in there, and spoke to the crowd.

  “If I could just say a few words,” he began.

  “Keep it to a very few, Upchurch,” Ryan called out and everyone laughed because if there’s one thing Robert Upchurch can’t do, it’s say a short sentence.

  “My first memory of Hank is when I was in kindergarten and he was in first grade,” he began. “He was eating a tuna fish sandwich in the lunchroom, and I wanted it so badly but I couldn’t eat it because I’m allergic to mayonnaise.”

  “Sit down, Upchurch,” Ryan called out.

  I jumped up on the booth to join Robert. I knew he was trying his best to make a good speech, but the guy just couldn’t get out of his own mucous.

  “That was very touching, Robert,” I interrupted, helping him down off the booth seat so he wouldn’t fall flat on his face again. “And speaking of touching, I am so touched that you all came to my party tonight. It’s a big day for me and I want to thank you for helping me achieve this very important goal.”

  I looked out into the faces, and saw Dr. and Mrs. Townsend and the good Doctors Wong smiling at me. Gosh, they had known me since I was a tiny baby. I couldn’t imagine having grown up without them.

  “Some people told me that I would never be a success in school,” I went on, surprising myself that I was actually making a speech. “But for the first time in my whole life, I feel like I can succeed. I really think the Professional Performing Arts School is the place for me and you’re all invited to my first performance next year. But right now, it’s pastrami time. What do you say, folks? Let’s eat.”

  It was a perfect night. I mean, think about it. I had all my friends there cheering for me. I felt really proud of what I had accomplished. And I had stuffed in as much pastrami and brown mustard as my stomach could hold.

  What more could a guy want?

  CHAPTER 26

  The next morning, I couldn’t wait to get to school. I was up way before my clock radio was. Maybe for the first time in history, I was raring to get to school, because today was the day I was going to let Ms. Adolf know that everything she had ever thought about me was dead wrong. She had said to me so many times that I was never going to make something of myself that I almost started to believe it. But even though she couldn’t teach me to spell or to do long division, Ms. Adolf did teach me a really important lesson which is that you have to believe in yourself and not believe what all the adults are saying about you if your feelings way down deep tell you they’re wrong. You know you the best.

  By seven o’clock, I was standing at the door with my sweatshirt already zipped and my backpack slung over one shoulder. The only problem was, I don’t even leave until eight.

  My dad came out of his bedroom, still in his pajama bottoms and T-shirt, and headed toward the kitchen. It was his turn to put out breakfast for Emily and me. When he saw me standing at the door, all dressed and ready to go, he said, “Are you real or am I dreaming you? I’ve never seen you up this early and ready to go unless we were going to a theme park or a Mets game.”

  “That’s because what I’m doing today is going to be even more fun than hanging upside down on the Cyclone Double Loop.”

  “I like to hear that attitude about school,” my father said. “That’s what you should have been thinking all along.”

  For a minute, I had forgotten that I can’t have this kind of conversation with my dad. He likes to turn every single thing into a lesson, even down to the right way to eat a black-and-white cookie. He doesn’t approve of my technique, which is to try to get some chocolate and vanilla icing in every bite, so they can mix in my mouth. He says it’s messy and unnecessary. Folks, I’m talking heaven and he says it’s foolish.

  While I was waiting for the next hour to pass, I decided to take my acceptance letter out of my backpack and read it over and over again. I think we all know that I have real trouble reading anything cold right off the page. And since I was planning to read the letter aloud to Ms. Adolf, I wanted to get it perfect. Besides, I could never get tired of hearing those two great words, “Welcome, Hank!”

  I was too excited to wait until eight o’clock to leave, so I called Frankie and Ashley and told them I’d meet them in class. I got to school in record time, and by the time I reached the steps, I was out of breath. Even with that, I still had to fight the urge to shout my good news up and down the halls of every floor. It was there on my tongue, ready to shoot out of my mouth at any second. I didn’t have to wait long, because the first person I ran into running up the stairs was none other than Principal Leland Love.

  “Walk, young man,” he said. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “I’m so glad you asked, Principal Love. Actually, I am going to the Professional Performing Arts School. In the fall, that is. They accepted me.”

  Wow, you could have knocked him over with a feather. Even the Statue of Liberty mole on his cheek looked surprised.

  “Well,” he said. “That must make you feel very special.”

  “As a matter of fact, it does.”

  “Excellent. That is what education is intended to do . . . to guide you down life’s ever winding path in a sure-footed way.”

  Oh boy. I could feel it coming on. The old Principal Love speech-a-roony. I sure wasn’t going to miss those at my new middle school. But he was on a roll, and I knew there was no stopping him, so I settled in for the lecture.

  “Now what’s important for you t
o remember here, Hank, is that the path presented to you is the one you need to stay on. There will be many paths leading off the main path, and you should not be tempted to take any of them. You may find many obstacles along the path, let’s call them boulders, and you must find a way to step over them without stubbing your toe.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Principal Love. I’m getting a new pair of shoes before school starts.”

  “Yes, of course. Good idea. Now . . . just remember this. As you trudge down life’s path, keep your head up, your eyes forward, your throat cleared, and your walking stick handy.”

  “I’m going to write that down as soon as I get to my classroom,” I said. “And hang it up over my desk at home.”

  Principal Love seemed pretty pleased with that and with our conversation in general, so I used that as an opportunity to skedaddle out of there. Knowing him, that life path lecture could have gone on all summer. And I had a very important thing left to do upstairs.

  As I walked up the stairs, it suddenly occurred to me that my days of walking up these steps that I knew so well were coming to an end. I wondered what I would think if I ever came back here after I was all grown up. Hmmm. The first thing I’d think was that there was a lot of chewing gum stuck on the back side of the railing. And then, I’d probably think that these stairs led me to Ms. Adolf’s classroom, two years in a row . . . lucky me . . . which was always a really difficult place for me.

  She was sitting at her desk, red pencil in hand, grading papers. That must be her favorite thing to do, since she seems to spend twenty-four hours a day doing it.

  “Hi, Ms. Adolf,” I said. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Only slightly,” she answered without even looking up from her desk. “What is it, Henry?”

  Wow, a second ago, I had been feeling on top of the world. Now, I was feeling unbelievably nervous. That woman could pop a balloon without a pin.