It's Not Easy Being Mimi

by Linda Davick

  “Boris, did you stick your gum on my sombrero?”

  “Yes. When Mr. Dayberry came back to help me with my math yesterday. He thinks gum should be outlawed. I was going to pull it back off and finish chewing it, but you got up and left.”

  I yanked the bubble gum off my sombrero and stomped on it. When I tried to walk away, my shoe stuck to the sidewalk.

  Accused

  The bell rang. Ms. Marzipan waved her baton and began herding us back inside. I plopped down on the merry-go-round and took off my shoe. I tried to scrape the gum off with a stick, but the stick broke.

  Ms. Marzipan walked toward me, and I wondered if I should ask to borrow her stick. I began to giggle. But then she pointed the baton straight at me and things turned serious.

  “Young lady,” she began. Those two words are always a sign that something bad is coming. “Yesterday you accosted Boris with your musical instrument. And today you’re picking on him again. I’d watch my step if I were you.”

  My mouth fell open. This time no words came out.

  The Invitation

  Don’t ask me why I did it. But Wednesday when I got home from school, I took out my purple pen and made three invitations. I slipped one under the door of apartment 3, one under the door of apartment 2, and one under the door of apartment 1.

  Yoshi ran right up with his invitation and asked me to read it to him. Then he asked me if I would help him RSVP. I picked up my pen.

  “Can you write it in another color besides purple?” he asked. “Purple is your color.”

  I found a pencil and wrote down exactly what he said:

  He folded up the RSVP I had just written, and when he left, he slid it under my door.

  Later I found two more notes under my door.

  Potato Castle

  Saturday morning I made my favorite dish: Potato Castle.

  The Potato Castle did not last long. Everyone wanted seconds. Boris even had thirds. Then he asked for the recipe.

  Potato Castle Recipe

  Ingredients:

  1 bucket of mashed potatoes, packed

  12 baked potato skins stuffed with melted cheese

  1 extra large bottle of ketchup

  100 French fries

  Turn bucket of mashed potatoes upside down on platter. Remove bucket carefully. For windows, use potato skins, cheese side out. Pour ketchup around base of castle to make moat. Arrange fries around moat. Dig in.

  After we passed the bowl of caramels around, Yoshi grabbed his ukulele. He strummed really fast. Tonya jumped up and started twirling. We all ate candy and danced like crazy.

  Then Yoshi played “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” and everyone slid down the banister and went home.

  The next morning Yoshi ran up to my door and gave the secret knock. He brought his own pencil. He asked me to help him write a thank-you note, so I did.

  This time it was a long note, and by the time we finished it, my hand was sore. I read it out loud.

  “Will you do it over?” Yoshi asked. “And leave out the part about Boris? It sounds mean.”

  “No,” I said. “My hand is too tired. But I’ll cross it out for you. How’s that?”

  * * *

  That evening I found another note under my door.

  Just as I was starting to feel more peaceful about life in the Periwinkle Tower, one last note shot across the floor.

  Tonya’s Barrette

  I called Tonya right away. “There’s no barrette in my bathroom.”

  Tonya was silent. “You said you liked my barrette.”

  “I do like your barrette!”

  Tonya didn’t say anything.

  Was this the Silent Treatment? If it was, it was the loudest Silent Treatment I had ever heard.

  “Mimi,” said Tonya, “go look in the mirror.”

  “Okay. I’m looking.”

  “Is there a barrette in your hair?”

  I took off my hat. “Yes.”

  “Is it in the shape of a heart?”

  “No! It’s in the shape of a dachshund!”

  Tonya didn’t say anything.

  Sometimes being Tonya’s friend is not easy.

  Marvin’s Brain

  Something was wrong. On Sunday, Marvin didn’t eat anything. And Monday morning he didn’t feel like having breakfast.

  I stuffed Marvin into his pet carrier and drove him to Dr. Furr’s before school.

  Dr. Furr listened to Marvin’s heart. He felt Marvin’s stomach.

  “I’m going to take an X-ray,” said Dr. Furr.

  I waited and waited and waited. Finally Dr. Furr brought Marvin back into the room and showed me the X-ray.

  The X-ray didn’t look like Marvin. It looked like a little dinosaur skeleton. But I knew it was Marvin. It was the inside of Marvin, and I loved every strange shape and every tiny bone.

  “This is Marvin’s stomach.” Dr. Furr pointed to a shape on the screen. “There’s something in there that shouldn’t be.”

  I almost fell over. Could it be?

  “It looks like a little heart,” said Dr. Furr. It was a little heart. It was Tonya’s little plastic heart.

  I told Dr. Furr about the barrette that smelled like peppermint.

  Dr. Furr said that he would have to keep Marvin overnight. He would get the heart out of Marvin’s stomach.

  “I guess you’ve heard that the way to a cat’s heart is through his stomach,” said Dr. Furr.

  I was so relieved that I laughed at Dr. Furr’s joke.

  I kissed Marvin good-bye and stopped to look at his X-ray one more time.

  I pointed to a tiny shape behind Marvin’s eye. “What’s that itty-bitty thing?”

  “That’s Marvin’s brain,” said Dr. Furr.

  Dr. Furr and I laughed again. Marvin was not amused.

  Worse

  Driving Steggo

  On Tuesday, after the last bell rang at school, I skipped down the hall. I could not wait to pick up Marvin. As I flew around the corner I ran smack into Boris.

  “Mimi, hi! Can you give me and Steggo a ride home?”

  “I guess so, if he can sit on your lap. Who’s Steggo?”

  “Steggo’s our dinosaur! The stegosaurus. I want to attach spikes to his tail tonight.”

  “Okay, but hurry! Marvin’s at Dr. Furr’s waiting for me to pick him up.”

  Boris reappeared dragging Steggo. We wedged him behind the seats. I started the car, but Boris made me get back out so we could rearrange Steggo. We stood him on his head. Boris wasn’t happy with that, so we tried standing him on his tail.

  “Let’s put his front claws down with his tail sticking up. He’ll fit best that way,” Boris explained.

  When I started the car again, Boris said, “Wait!” He climbed back out and stuffed his backpack against the claws for good measure.

  All the way home Boris kept saying, “Slow down! Slow down or he’s going to blow away!” It took forever to drive Steggo home.

  Dr. Furr was locking his door when I finally arrived. “I’m glad you made it, Mimi! I thought Marvin was going to have to spend an extra night with us.”

  Dr. Furr brought Marvin out. Then he handed me Tonya’s barrette!

  Later, I gave the barrette back to Tonya. But when I told her where we found it, she said I could keep it.

  Cheerio

  The next morning Marvin ate his breakfast with gusto. I tossed the very last Cheerio up in the air and gulped it down.

  I’d buy more on the way home from school. To remind myself, I grabbed my purple pen and started a list. Was it spelled “Cheerios” or “Cheerioes”? I wasn’t sure, so I just wrote “Cheerio” on a scrap of paper and stuffed it into my pocket.

  Because I’d driven Boris and Steggo home from school yesterday, today I had to drive them back. We were late, but for once Mr. Dayberry didn’t seem to care. He had decided the class should have a pet, and today was the pet’s first day.

  A few of us at a time were invited to come up and see. Mr. Dayberry
asked everyone to speak softly to the little rat.

  When it was finally my turn, I went up and whispered, “Hi, little rat. I’m so happy to meet you.”

  I looked the little rat in the eye and told him my name. “What’s your name?” I asked. He didn’t say. He just stared back at me with his sparkly eyes.

  After we all met the rat, Mr. Dayberry passed out slips of paper. He asked us to think of a name for him. Later he would collect the names and choose one.

  At recess I played on the swings and thought about the little rat. He was warm. He had eyes that twinkled. He had a long tail without any fur on it. He had whiskers and two tiny buckteeth. The teeth were so cute!

  I jumped off the swing and wrote “Bucky” down on my slip of paper.

  Mr. Dayberry collected the names and put them in his bike helmet. Then he mixed them all up and pulled one out. He looked puzzled for a second. Then he read the little rat’s name: “Cheerio.”

  I had put the wrong scrap of paper in the helmet! But the little rat seemed to like his new name.

  Mr. Dayberry recognized the purple ink. “Since you named him, Mimi, would you like to be Cheerio’s special caretaker next week?”

  “YES!” I was super excited. Even though Boris made me drive his stupid dinosaur home again. He wanted to add silver claws to Steggo over the long weekend.

  Thanksgiving

  We had Thanksgiving at Tonya’s.

  There were only six of us—but it seemed like thirty-six with all the mirrors in the room.

  “Let’s eat!” said Boris.

  “First we’ll go around the table, and each of us will say one thing we’re thankful for,” said Tonya.

  Everyone slouched. But it was Thanksgiving, and we knew that’s what we were supposed to do.

  Tonya looked at Yoshi. “I’m thankful for my books,” he said.

  “Oh, can you read now?” asked Tonya.

  Yoshi’s face turned red. “Not yet.”

  “I’m thankful for baseball!” said Hunter, tossing a ball up in the air. It ricocheted off Tonya’s mirror ball and landed in the cranberry sauce.

  “Not at the table!” Tonya screamed. Then she clapped her hands. “Sofie, wake up!”

  Sofie blinked. “I’m sorry. I had my ballet recital last night and—”

  “But what are you thankful for?”

  “I’m thankful for my horse. And my unicorn.”

  “There isn’t any such thing as a unicorn,” said Tonya.

  “I’m thankful for Marvin,” I said.

  Tonya sneezed.

  “I’m thankful for mashed potatoes,” said Boris. “Can we eat now?”

  “May I first mention something I’m thankful for?” asked Tonya.

  We all sat up straight. Who knew what would come out of Tonya’s mouth next?

  “I’m thankful to be surrounded by my friends,” she said.

  No one said anything.

  “That’s you all,” Tonya explained.

  We relaxed.

  “Let’s eat!” repeated Boris.

  Rat Duty

  On Monday, Boris made us extra late. “Sorry,” he said. “I stayed up all night working on Steggo’s claws.” The claws weren’t quite dry, so Boris stuffed Steggo behind the seats with his feet sticking up. Then Boris climbed in and fell asleep on the way to school.

  I didn’t care. I was happy. It was my first day of rat duty.

  At noon when all the other kids were in the cafeteria eating leftover turkey sandwiches, I stayed behind in the classroom to have lunch with Cheerio.

  I jumped up and sat on the table beside his cage. I gave him a kiss and presented him with a special Thanksgiving rat platter: some chopped-up apple, a bit of sweet potato, and for dessert, sunflower seeds.

  I polished off my own sandwich and sang to Cheerio while he crunched his seeds.

  The Advent calendar was sitting on the other end of Cheerio’s table. It had been driving everybody crazy all morning. It was hard to concentrate on your work when such a wonderful thing was right in front of you.

  That afternoon some lucky kid would get to open door number one and take the treat. Maybe Mr. Dayberry would choose me.

  I love teeny-tiny things so much. I wondered what kinds of treats were hidden behind the glittery doors. Charms? Toys?

  Chocolate-covered raisins?

  The clock said 12:20. Ten more minutes before Mr. Dayberry would return with the class.

  What Happened to the Advent Calendar

  I hopped down and quietly closed the door to the classroom.

  You’ve heard the saying “When one door closes, another one opens”? The door I opened was the little one labeled December 1.

  I held the wooden reindeer with the red glass nose up to the sunlight. My fingers were shaking, but they went right ahead and pried open the second little door.

  Before I knew it, there were twenty-five teensy, bright toys lined up on the table. I could not stop staring at them. Cheerio was under their spell too. He crept out of his cage and sniffed each one.

  The bell! I jumped down. There was no way I’d be able to stuff the toys back into place, so I swept all twenty-five of them into my lunch box. My hands were still shaking, but I managed to seal each tiny door shut.

  The instant I refastened the twenty-fifth door, I heard Mr. Dayberry’s voice boom: “Slow down, please!” And then everyone stampeded back into class.

  Uh-Oh

  Later, Mr. Dayberry chose Hunter to open the first door on the Advent calendar. Maybe he picked Hunter because Hunter had made a fort for Cheerio to sleep in out of an old baseball cap.

  Hunter swaggered up to the front of the room with a goofy grin on his face. He wiped his right hand on his jeans. It took him forever to open the door because of the baseball glove on his left hand. We all held our breath.

  When the little door finally popped open, Hunter’s face fell. “Mr. Dayberry? There’s nothing there.”

  Everyone gasped, so I gasped too.

  Mr. Dayberry frowned. “Open the next door, then, and take tomorrow’s treat.”

  Hunter turned his baseball cap around backward. He took a deep breath and started loosening up the next little door.

  But the same thing happened. Hunter’s face turned red.

  Mr. Dayberry jumped up. In an instant he was in front of the table. He whipped off his glasses and peered into the two empty compartments. “I can’t get over it. Would they really have left out two treats?”

  He picked up the calendar. “It’s light as a feather.” He shook it. “The calendar’s empty!” Mr. Dayberry shoved his glasses back on and looked out at the class.

  Everyone looked back in shock except for Boris, who had his head down. I knew Boris was exhausted from working on Steggo all night. But everyone else thought Boris was sick. I could read their minds. They all thought the Advent calendar had been full of candy—and that now Boris was full of candy.

  “Boris,” said Mr. Dayberry. Boris’s head popped up. Then he said,

  “If anyone has anything to say to me after class, I’m available.”

  Confession

  When all the other kids had gone for the day, I dragged myself up to Mr. Dayberry’s desk. I held my lunch box behind my back and looked down at Mr. Dayberry’s loafers.

  At first I couldn’t say anything. Cheerio leaped off his rat wheel and stuck his nose through the wire cage. I could feel his bright eyes watching me. The room was quiet.

  “I’m listening,” said Mr. Dayberry.

  I opened my lunch box.

  I pointed to the Advent calendar and started to cry. “It was an accident, Mr. Dayberry.”

  Mr. Dayberry shook his head. He looked me in the eye. “What should we do, Mimi?”

  “I’ll put them back right now. Is there any way we can just start all over tomorrow? We could have December first in the morning and December second in the afternoon. And maybe Boris could open the door for December second?”

  Gold Tooth

&
nbsp; The next morning everyone, including me, was relieved. The Advent calendar was back in business. Hunter loved the wooden reindeer with the red glass nose. And that afternoon Mr. Dayberry would choose Boris to open door number two.

  At lunch Boris asked, “Mimi, can you give me and Steggo a ride home again?”

  “Boris, why do we have to take Steggo home every single day?”

  “Because I want him to be special. Mr. Dayberry doesn’t give me enough time to work on him in class.”

  “What are you going to do to him tonight?”

  “Give him a gold front tooth.”

  “Boris,” said Tonya. “I don’t think there were many dentists around when dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

  After lunch Yoshi pulled me aside and said he wasn’t sure stegosauruses had front teeth at all.

  I exploded. “Why didn’t you say so? Maybe then I wouldn’t have to lug that stupid dinosaur home tonight!”

  “Because Boris loves working on Steggo,” said Yoshi. “What’s so bad about giving Steggo a ride?”

  “What’s so bad?

  “Boris makes me drive super slow, and I’m always late getting home. He eats all the chocolate-covered raisins in my glove compartment. He gets paint and glue all over the inside of my car. He’s completely taken over my life with that big fat dinosaur.

  “He just won’t leave me alone!”

  Yoshi backed away. “Okay, okay.”

  Worser

  Loitering

  “Worser” isn’t really a word, but it’s exactly what happened. Things got worser and worser. Day after day I waited as everyone else in class got to open a door on the Advent calendar. And I can’t tell you how sick and tired I got of hauling Steggo back and forth.