Fangs for Everything

by Tommy Greenwald

  My ears started to get hot. “Huh?” I said, because it was the only thing I could think of.

  Daisy made a wide sweeping gesture with her hands. “It’s just that … well, if you want to know the truth, I’ve always thought this old Boathouse was kind of gross. It’s, like, really dirty and disgusting, and everything is broken. I think our club deserves a better clubhouse, that’s all.”

  Irwin looked like he wasn’t sure what to do, since he loved the Boathouse but had just been named the new vice-president by the new president, who apparently hated the Boathouse.

  “Wait, really?” Baxter asked, which was pretty polite of him, if you ask me.

  I was a lot less polite. “Are you serious? This is the greatest clubhouse ever! And it’s all ours! Nobody even thinks about this place anymore—it’s like our secret hideout!” I pointed at Abby, who was snoozing on her back. “Plus, Abby loves running around here, exploring the woods and the swamp and everything!”

  “More like she used to,” Irwin mumbled. “Now she pretty much naps all the time.”

  Daisy frowned. “Jeez, Jimmy, I didn’t realize you felt so strongly. And I agree that it’s important to keep our pets happy.” She twirled her hair nervously. “That’s actually one of the reasons I wanted to move the headquarters. I thought maybe we could try my house, at least for a little while. That way Purrkins could attend the meetings, since she is the other animal member of the CrimeBiters.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. Her house? Seriously? It was true, her cat, Purrkins, was a member of the club, but I think the rest of us all assumed that was pretty much … how should I put it … honorary.

  “Whatever!” I sat down in a huff. “I don’t aye this one. I vote we keep our headquarters here.”

  “So that’s one nay,” Daisy said. “All the rest of us, if you’re in favor of having the next meeting at my house, just to see how it feels, where ice-cream sandwiches and lemonade will be served, please raise your hand and say aye.”

  I turned toward the marshy swamp and stared off into the distance so I wouldn’t have to watch my friends betray me. Because I knew that’s exactly what they were going to do.

  “Aye,” I heard Baxter say. That didn’t really surprise me, because he never really liked the Boathouse all that much. It was hard to blame him, considering his dad fell through the roof here and broke his back.

  FACT: Read all about Mr. Bratford’s Boathouse mishap and other crazy adventures in CRIMEBITERS! MY DOG IS BETTER THAN YOUR DOG. Act now, and you’ll win a free toaster! (Not really.)

  “What about you, Irwin?” Daisy asked.

  There was a pause. Like I said, Irwin loved the Boathouse. He thought it was as cool as I did, because we used to come here all the time by ourselves and have a blast. It was our private clubhouse way before the CrimeBiters even existed.

  I turned around and snuck a glance at Irwin. He saw me and quickly looked away.

  “Will the lemonade be homemade?” I heard him ask.

  I knew it was over right then and there.

  “Oh yes!” Daisy exclaimed. “My mom makes the best lemonade ever.”

  “Okay, then,” Irwin said nervously. “Aye.”

  Daisy clapped her hands. “Yay! I think this will be great!” Then she turned to me and added, “But afterward, if we decide we prefer the Boathouse, then we can always come back here. Fair enough?”

  I wanted to say okay. I really did. I wanted to be sensible and respect the process and all that stuff. But for some reason, I just couldn’t. This all started because I wanted to do something nice for Daisy, and then the next thing I knew, my club was being taken away from me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

  So I didn’t say okay. Instead, I said, “I think this stinks.”

  I know—not very presidential of me, right? Not even very ex-presidential.

  Daisy’s eyes suddenly turned cold. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said. “I really am. But we voted, and the vote stands.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Is the meeting over? Because I have to go.”

  I turned to leave, but something stopped me.

  Or I should say, someone stopped me.

  And it was the largest person I’d ever seen.

  “HELLO,” SAID THE giant who’d interrupted our meeting. He was wearing a really cool uniform, with shiny black shoes and a red beret. It was like he appeared out of a dream. “Hope I’m not interrupting. I was told I’d find you guys here.” His eyes locked on Baxter. “Hey, little buddy.”

  Baxter’s eyes started getting wider and wider until I got worried that they were going to pop out of his head. He stood up slowly, staring at the giant. Finally, with his voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Bennett? Is that you?”

  The man’s face broke out in a huge grin. “It’s me, dude. Live and in person.”

  Baxter jumped up like he’d been shot out of a cannon and ran into the man’s arms, while the rest of us stared, openmouthed. Holy moly. This was Bennett, Baxter’s brother? The one who had been in all sorts of trouble before joining the army? He looked like he’d stepped right off a movie screen.

  PROFILE

  Name: Bennett Bratford

  Age: 22, but his uniform made him look 30

  Occupation: Soldier

  Interests: Defending our country

  “Guys, this is my brother, Bennett,” Baxter said, still seeming kind of shocked.

  “That’s awesome,” Irwin said. “We didn’t even hear you come upstairs, sir.”

  Bennett laughed. “No need to call me sir. And being quiet is one of the things they teach you in basic training.” He looked down at his brother. “Turns out that before they ship you overseas, they let you go home for a few days to check in with the fam—so here I am.”

  “Did you see Mom yet?” Baxter asked.

  “I sure did.” Bennett took off his hat and scratched his head, which was bald, just like his brother’s and father’s (it was a family thing). “You should have seen her, Bax. She just about fainted right there in the kitchen.”

  Abby chose that moment to wake up, and she immediately started barking at the strange man who loomed over us.

  “Abby!” I said, a little embarrassed. “This is Baxter’s brother! He’s in the army! Be nice!” Abby looked up at me and then piped down, luckily.

  Irwin petted her and chuckled. “Where was that attitude when the guy outside Isaac’s store almost knocked you over?”

  “Ha-ha,” I said sarcastically, even though I was thinking the same thing.

  Daisy walked up to Bennett and stuck out her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Thank you for your service.”

  Bennett smiled and shook her hand. “You’re welcome, but like I said, please don’t call me sir. You can call me Private, and that’s about it. What’s your name?”

  “Daisy,” Daisy said shyly.

  “Nice to see that Baxter has a lady friend,” Bennett said. “I’m impressed.”

  Before that conversation went any further, Irwin and I rushed over and shook Bennett’s hand too. “You’re awesome,” I said, kind of dumbly.

  Bennett laughed. “Not really, but thanks,” he said. Then he looked down at his brother. “Mom told me you’d be here. What is this, some kind of gang you guys are all in?” He looked around. “I love your clubhouse—it’s super cool.”

  I smiled, and a warm glow spread throughout my body. “Some of us think so too,” I said smugly.

  “Jimmy and Irwin have been coming here for years,” Baxter told his brother. “But we just had a vote and named Daisy president of the club, and we decided that we could use a change of scenery, so we’re going to have the next meeting at her house and have ice-cream sandwiches and homemade lemonade.”

  When I heard Baxter put it that way, it all sounded so … I don’t know … reasonable.

  “Wow, that sounds super cool too,” Private Bennett Bratford said. “A vote! Democracy at work! That’s the American way, right? I lov
e it.”

  Bennett picked up his little brother as easily as he would a small toy and threw him on his shoulders. “Let’s go home, okay, Bax? There’s some fried chicken in the fridge with my name on it.”

  “You bet!” Baxter waved at us. “See you guys later, okay?” And off they went.

  Irwin, Daisy, and I all looked at one another. When you meet someone who is actually defending your country, and your right to vote, and your right to have a club that can meet wherever you want, there isn’t really much left to say.

  “I’m sorry if I was a jerk,” I said to Daisy.

  “And I’m sorry if I ambushed you with my idea to meet at my house,” she said to me.

  “And I’m sorry that I made fun of Abby not defending you at Isaac’s,” Irwin added.

  “It’s okay,” we all said to each other.

  And then we went home.

  A FEW DAYS a week, I volunteer at Shep’s shelter. Shep’s, which is run by this awesome guy named Shep Lansing, is the animal rescue place where I adopted Abby. But one of the most fun things about volunteering there is that I get to hang around with Kelsey Breed, the head animal trainer. Kelsey is from England, and I think she is really smart, although it’s possible her accent might have something to do with it.

  FACT: English accents make people sound really smart. And rich too. I have no idea why.

  I don’t think Kelsey was rich, but she was really smart, and she knew a lot about a ton of things. I liked just listening to her talk, because I always learned something.

  FACT: I think people learn a lot more by living out in the world than they do by going to school. Don’t tell my parents I said that. And especially don’t tell your parents I said that.

  The day after our meeting at the Boathouse, while I was on break and Kelsey was doing paperwork, I started telling her about Bennett Bratford, and how impressive he was, and how we were all so excited to be in his presence.

  “I do love a man in uniform,” Kelsey said, with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Especially an army man.” She looked at me. “Did you know that even though Great Britain and the United States fought against each other in your war for independence, we have since become each other’s greatest military allies?”

  “Wow,” I said, which was my way of saying, To be honest, I most certainly did not know that.

  “It’s quite true.” Kelsey put her pen down and rubbed her eyes. “Well, that’s it. Seventeen adoptions this week, Jimmy. Not bad. Not bad at all.” She eyed the book in my hand. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

  I looked at the cover. “Oh, this? It’s called Fangs for Everything, by Elroy Evans. He writes great mysteries about this really cool vampire named Jonah Forrester. They’ve been my favorite books since, like, forever.”

  Kelsey picked it up and looked at the cover. “Cool. Are you into vampires?”

  “A little, I guess.” Understatement of the century.

  “Me too,” she said. “I should check this guy out.” She put the book down. “Want to hear something wild? Some people think Prince Charles—the son of our current Queen Elizabeth—is a direct descendant of the real Count Dracula.”

  “No way,” I said, even though I wasn’t completely sure who Prince Charles was—or Queen Elizabeth, for that matter. But I definitely knew who Count Dracula was. “That is so cool.”

  “Oh, there’s a lot of fascinating stuff about vampires out there,” Kelsey said. She stood up. “Well, I’ve got a beagle to train. Apparently he finds laptops delicious. Need to disabuse him of that notion. Ta-ta, Jimmy.”

  But I had a question for Kelsey now that I knew she was a vampire expert. “Hey, can I ask you something? Have you ever heard about a vampire losing their powers? Does that ever happen?”

  Kelsey considered that for a second. “Well, I suppose it can. I mean, I’m sure in the long history of vampires, there must have been one or two who just stopped being vampires somewhere along the way, right?”

  “Yeah, probably,” I agreed.

  “Why do you ask?”

  I thought for a second, then decided to just go on to my next question. “And do vampires have to be human? I mean, do you think it’s possible for other kinds of species to be vampires?”

  Kelsey looked at me with an odd expression on her face. “Uh, like what kind of species? Do you know a giraffe who’s a vampire or something?”

  I looked over at Abby, who was sweetly playing with a squeaky toy that looked like a mouse. I knew I was in a tricky spot. If I told Kelsey that I thought Abby was a vampire but now I wasn’t sure, she would definitely think I was insane. And once you think someone is insane, it’s really hard to unthink it.

  “Oh, not really,” I said. “I just like to think about stuff like that sometimes. I guess I have kind of a weird imagination.”

  “Well, to answer your question, I think none of us really knows the truth about vampires,” Kelsey said. She looked around the shelter as if she were worried someone might think she was insane. “That’s what makes them so fascinating. The great unknown. So, yes—I do think it’s possible that other species can be vampires. And you know what? I think it would be awesome.”

  Kelsey gave me a smile and walked away. I picked up my book and tried to read, but I was too relieved to concentrate.

  If the possibility of a vampire dog was good enough for a smart grown-up person from England, then it was good enough for me.

  “Fangs for everything,” I told Abby.

  She thumped her tail and went back to her mouse.

  THINGS HAD SURE changed at school lunch.

  It’s hard to believe, but about a year ago Irwin and I used to sit at a corner table in the back of the cafeteria near the vending machines. Sometimes we would pretend to be judges on a TV reality show, making comments about this person’s clothes, or that person’s glasses, but what we were really doing was trying to ignore the fact that we didn’t have any other friends. Then, after Daisy, Baxter, Irwin, and I formed the CrimeBiters, we moved more to the center of the room, where we discussed club business as if the future of the world depended on it—and, as far as we were concerned, it did.

  Then I started playing lacrosse, and I became friends with Chad and the other guys on the team. For a while, I would alternate sitting with the CrimeBiters and the athletic kids. But all that did was kind of annoy everybody—especially me, because I had to listen to Irwin say things like, “What do you guys talk about at that table—stupid sports stuff?” Finally one day I walked over to the CrimeBiters table and told them to join me at the lacrosse table. “Sit over here with us. It won’t kill you,” I said, and they all looked at me like it would, in fact, kill them. “Come on,” I pleaded, and then Daisy got up, and then Baxter got up too, and eventually even Irwin got up, and they followed me over to the lacrosse table and sat down, and the world didn’t end, and we all actually had fun together. After that, we started sitting together all the time.

  Like I said, things sure had changed.

  So there I was, on the Monday after the whole cheerleader–president of CrimeBiters–Baxter’s brother weekend, sitting and having lunch with Chad and two other guys from the basketball team and Irwin and Baxter from the anything-but-basketball team.

  “Thanks for coming to the game on Friday,” Chad said to Irwin and me. “That was pretty cool. You guys didn’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, we wanted to,” Irwin said, grinning from ear to ear. He was still getting used to the idea of the cool sports kids being nice to him, so he tended to smile extra widely around them. “And you played great.”

  Chad laughed self-consciously. “I was kind of off that game. My shot wasn’t falling at all.”

  “Seriously?” I said. “I saw you make, like, seven great plays in five minutes.”

  “Aw, not really. But thanks.”

  It was kind of amazing how nice of a guy Chad was. I’m pretty sure if I was great at everything the way Chad is, I would not be nearly that nice.

  Just
then, Daisy came over with Mara, both carrying lunch trays. “Is there any way you can make room for us?” she said, even though she knew that of course we would. I made room for Daisy, but Mara ended up taking the seat, while Daisy plopped down next to Chad.

  Hmmmm, I thought to myself.

  “What’s everybody talking about?” asked Mara. “Anything good?”

  Baxter had a mouth full of french fries, but that didn’t stop him from answering. “Chad was telling us how he thought he didn’t play very well in the basketball game the other day, even though Irwin and Jimmy thought he played amazing. I have no opinion, because they didn’t invite me to go with them.”

  “Really?” Daisy said. “That’s not very nice, you guys.”

  I glared at Baxter. “You hate basketball.”

  “So do you,” he said back, and he wasn’t wrong. I looked at Daisy. “You texted Irwin to come down to the game. You didn’t text Baxter or me. So it’s really your fault.”

  It was Daisy’s turn to glare. “I wrote that you should all come.”

  “This is a dumb argument,” Irwin said, and he wasn’t wrong either. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “I agree with Irwin,” Chad said, which made Irwin grin like a five-year-old at a fudge factory. Chad turned to Daisy. “You were great at cheerleading,” he said. “I had no idea you could do flips like that. That halftime show was pretty cool.” Then he looked at Mara, to make sure she didn’t feel left out. “You were great too.”

  “Thanks!” Mara chirped. “I love to cheer!” Yeah, no kidding.

  Daisy smiled shyly in Chad’s direction. “It was my first time, and I was really nervous. Hopefully I’ll get better.”

  “Are you kidding?” Chad exclaimed. “You were awesome.” He leaned over in my direction. “My dad told me the reason I didn’t play very well is because I was distracted by Daisy and the rest of the cheerleaders. He said I was watching them when I was supposed to be guarding my man.”