by Lorri Horn
“Yes. You’re the stupid one.”
“Sir?” Clara interjected.
“No. Wait. You’re not stupid. My nose isn’t the size of a dill pickle. I’m just trying to get our roles down. Have a cookie. The point is I’m going to help you talk to your mom when you get stuck. It’s been almost a week, and we’re getting nowhere fast. So, I’m going to whisper in your ear what to say when you get stuck. I’m going to give you some notes to get started, some talking points, and then, I’m going to speak to you like those newscasters in your ear.”
“No way.”
“Yup.”
Dewey held out a tiny ear bud on his finger.
“See this? It hooks up with my cell phone. As long as you have it in properly you’ll be able to hear me. Keep your head upright so it doesn’t fall out.”
“Whoa.”
“I know, right? We’ll be using technology on a weekday to break it to her that you’ve been using technology on a weekday. We’re getting in deep!”
“Cool.”
“Oh, yeah. That, too. Okay. At 16:00 hours tomorrow we ‘meet’ in your ear.”
“I’ll be there! Hey, if my nose was really as big as that Cyranoses guy’s nose I could hide it in there instead of my ear,” chuckled Archie.
“I’m the Cyrano. I’m the Cyrano. You’re the other guy.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Got it.”
“Have a Creeper for the road.”
Archie’s House
Dewey sat impatiently after school waiting for Archie to “show up.” They had already paired Dewey’s cell phone with the device and practiced how to put the Bluetooth transmitter under Archie’s shirt. It wasn’t the technology side of things that had Dewey worried.
“Don’t fidget with it or she’ll know something’s up. Don’t touch your ear. And whatever you do, don’t answer me! Just pretend I’m not in your ear.”
As Dewey waited for his cell phone to ring, he regretted that they hadn’t practiced more. Or at all! He paced the room, walking around the perimeter in a square and checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed the call.
At 4:33 his phone rang.
This is it, thought Dewey. He put in his ear buds and gave Clara, who was in the kitchen, a thumbs up so she’d keep Wolfie out of the way.
“Not much,” he could hear Archie saying. “Just some math problems.”
“Okay, good. I can hear you loud and clear,” Dewey spoke. “If you can hear me clear your throat.”
“Ahem.”
“Perfect,” Dewey said.
“Now tell her you want to talk.”
Nothing.
Dead air.
“Say, ‘Mom, can I talk to you a minute?’”
“Mom, can I talk to you a minute?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind, Arch?”
“Okay,” Dewey directed into Archie’s ear. “Sit down now if you’re not already.”
“Mom, sit down now if you’re not already.”
What?! No!! He was repeating aloud the directions Dewey gave him.
“Huh?” his mom asked. “Is there something wrong, Archie?”
“Listen, Archie,” Dewey said slowly and carefully, “don’t say this aloud. Only repeat out loud to your mom if I state ‘SAY’ first? Okay? If you roger that, clear your throat.”
“Ahem.”
“Good.”
“Archie?”
“Say, ‘Sorry, Mom. I think I’m just feeling a little nervous.’”
“Sorry, Mom. I think I’m just feeling a little nervous.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Okay,” Dewey whispered. “See what you can do. I’ll help you if you get stuck.”
“Mom,” Archie began. “I know you don’t want me playing video games on weekdays.”
She arched her brows. “You know I don’t.”
“Well, the thing is,” Archie hesitated.
“Go on,” Dewey encouraged.
“The thing is I really want to.”
“Good,” Dewey said.
“I’m sure you do,” she said. “But that’s not how it works around here.”
“This thing is,” Archie said. “The thing is,” he repeated.
“The thing is, I’m doing it anyway,” Dewey said.
Silence.
“Oh. Shoot. SAY, ‘The thing is, I’m doing it anyway.’”
Dewey could hear Archie swallow.
“The thing is, Mom, I’m doing it anyway.”
“Nice,” Dewey said, but it was hard to make it out over Mrs. Thomas’ GASP that stretched out four syllables long. If she wasn’t sitting she must be now, Dewey thought.
“How is that even possible?” she demanded. “Where? In your room?”
“No, but pretty much everywhere else.”
“Well, you can just march up to your room, Mister. You’ve just lost your electronics for the rest of your life.”
Now Dewey could hear a gulp, a door slam, and silence.
“Archie. Archie. Don’t worry buddy. It’s all part of the plan.”
“She’s really mad,” Archie said into his ear.
“Yeah. But that went fine.” Dewey assured. “We’re moving onto phase two while you’re in prison. Go charge that earpiece so it’s ready to go.”
When Dewey “hung up” the phone, if that’s what you can call ending a conversation between the inside of your ear and someone’s else’s, Dewey felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him more than usual. How could he just go home now and eat dinner, do homework, play a video game himself knowing that Archie was stuck? He at least needed to know that he had his sealed up airtight to bail poor Archie out.
He looked at the time and sighed.
“Clara, we gotta figure out our next steps before I go home tonight. I left Archie held captive in his room like a prisoner.”
“How did his mother respond to his transgressions?”
“Oh, she sent him to his room and banned him from video games for the rest of his life.”
“Oh, my. Well, she may need a little cooling off period.”
“I told him to expect to be punished for it. I just didn’t expect it to be forever!”
“That is a tad lengthy.”
“Plus, I gotta help figure out our way through the rest of this mess.”
Dewey wanted to stay longer and talk more with Clara, but he’d already pushed the time as far as he could and needed to get home for dinner. Once again, he found himself up in his own room with his own thoughts trying to make sense of it all. He sure hoped that Archie was having a better night’s sleep than he was. He feared he was not.
Dewey Fairchild, Moptart Problem Solver
The next day in school Dewey looked for Archie in the lab at lunch, but didn’t find him there. As he walked back out, Colin intercepted him.
“Hey, come on. We’re all over on the grass catching up with Seraphina about some new rare rock she found.”
“Ha! That sounds amazing!” Dewey laughed. “Hate to miss that one! I gotta try to find Archie, though.”
“Oh, that red-head kid? I saw him over on the grass with some sixth graders.”
“Oh, okay, then!” Dewey picked up his pace that direction.
Seraphina waved him over, but he put up a finger to indicate he’d be over in a minute and walked over to Archie.
“Archie! Catch me up!”
“Oh! Dewey! Guys! Meet Dewey, leader of the free world! Moptart and Poptart Potentate!”
They all knew Dewey already and just laughed, figuring Archie referenced Dewey’s well-known love and rescue of the vending machines.
Dewey sat down but jumped up as a cold wet spot on his butt began to announce itself.
“Aren’t you getting all wet?” Dewey asked, pulling his pants away from his bottom and looking to see how damp it looked. Archie lifted his butt cheek and showed a plastic sandwich bag he’d been sitting o
n.
“Oh, great,” Dewey said, pulling his pants away from his bottom again and trying to air himself dry. What was it about Archie and Dewey’s bottom getting wet?
“Never mind all that, let’s catch up. Come with me, though? I still need somethin‘ from the vending machines before the bell rings.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure thing.”
“Did we ruin your life?”
“What? No! You saved the world from destruction. I got captured, but we escaped world domination!”
Archie thought she’d come at him like some sort of frightful zombie. In fact, she had a lot of questions about how and where he’d been playing. But she also really wanted to understand better why.
“I showed her those three questions you gave me to prove I’m not addicted to video games. That scored me some points. Then Angelica admitted she texts during the week. Duh. Of course she does.”
“So, you’re not stuck in the nether??”
“We leveled up, Dewey! New family plan. ‘A compromise’, she said. Some games and social media during the week. No sneaking.”
“Nice. That’s great,” Dewey said, remembering his hunger again. “Want some?” he asked offering some crackers as they headed back.
“No thanks,” Archie said, reaching into a baggie of homemade Sriracha popcorn. “You?” he offered. “It’s kind of spicy.”
Dewey grabbed a handful and shoveled it into his mouth. Then he made a beeline to Colin’s water bottle on the grass.
“Bring back my stuff tomorrow, Archie! And a bag of that popcorn! That’s amazing!”
As he gulped down some of Colin’s water, suddenly, Dewey got it.
Oh! Ha-ha! Dewey laughed to himself, wiping water off of his chin. ‘Moptarts and Poptarts!’ Parents!!
Memeing
Dewey woke up the next morning, found himself unusually rested, and wondered if it was Saturday. No such luck. When he came down to breakfast everyone was already at the table eating. Dewey’s dad and Pooh had some sort of grain toast with avocado, Stephanie had an omelet, and Dewey’s mom sat working on a cup of iced coffee.
“What’ll it be, Dewbert?” his mom asked, looking up with a straw still in her mouth as she sipped.
“Can I have eggs?”
His mom glanced at the clock.
“Yup.” She started cracking them into a bowl. “Scrambled?”
He nodded yes and slipped some sourdough into the toaster.
“Me,” Stephanie said, by which she meant, ‘Throw some in for me, too, please.’
Dewey’s dad began clearing the dishes. The toast popped, and Stephanie grabbed her slice, slathering it with butter and throwing her backpack over her shoulder.
“Hey!” Dewey’s dad objected.
She came back, gave him a kiss, blew her mom another, and flew out the door.
Dewey buttered his toast and sat to eat his warm eggs.
“Do you think Sriracha would be good on eggs?” he asked.
“You like Sriracha?” Dewey’s dad asked. He pulled out a bottle of the hot sauce.
“Oh, yeah. It’s great,” Dewey said, like he’d been using it his whole life.
“Oh, go easy, Dewey,” his mom said.
“I know,” he said drizzling a bit on his eggs.
“Dad, will you drive me so I’m not late?”
“Yeah, okay. Ready in five?”
“Yup.”
With a warm breakfast in his belly and a ride to school, Dewey felt on top of his game. He remembered his math journal. The vending machine didn’t have any problem digesting his dollar bill. This day was looking good.
As he sat in Humanities, he began to daydream about how exciting it was to do parent problems again. He had missed the stakeouts that come with parent problems, even if this last one had been more stake-in than stake-out. Dewey had a backlog of both parent and teacher problems waiting for him back at the office. He and Clara agreed they’d take a couple days to let her organize them, and then he’d meet her back in the office to go over their options and prioritize.
Dewey felt the back of his shoe being kicked.
“Dewey!” Colin whispered.
“Fairchild!” his teacher stared at him. “Where are you?”
“Oh, here!” he said flushing hot.
“Welcome back, then. As I was saying, before I was so rudely drowned out by the loud voices in Dewey’s head, three memes are due tomorrow. You may work independently or with a partner if they have read the same book as you. Any questions?”
“Ha-ha!” Colin laughed at Dewey’s classroom mishap when the bell rang. “We’re working together, right?”
Dewey and Colin had to create three memes of one important scene from their book. One had to be an existing meme that they could argue relates. The second had to have the same picture but with the text from the book. The third had to have their own picture with the original text from the book. The only other part was that to get the “joke” or “punchline” or “message” of the meme, it had to meet the ‘only-those-who-have-read-the-book-get-the-reference’ test, their teacher had said. He emphasized that that was the most important part.
“Isn’t it obvious that you’d have to have read the book?” Colin asked. “That’s the whole point.”
“I’d think so,” Dewey agreed.
“Whatever, let’s just pick our scene. When he finds that weird box?”
“Sure.”
“Or, no. When he swims too far in the lake.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. Use that.”
“Okay, hang on. Let me find it . . . Here: ‘Jedd went with Ramona to the edge of Blue Lake. The water felt cold and goosebumps covered his bare arms and chest. Ramona hung back letting the water splash her ankles, but Jedd wanted to impress her so he plunged in quickly below his shoulders. The water felt refreshing now.’”
“Read ahead a little,” Dewey said.
“K. Let’s see. ‘. . . Tried to touch his toe to the bottom . . . How had the horizon and Ramona gotten so far, so small . . .’ Okay, how about here, ‘. . . and all that Jedd could see was water. The lake’s blue looked dark. Black as night. Treading water, he felt a thousand miles out, nothing on which to stand, rest, or lean.’ Stop there?” Colin asked.
“Yeah, that’s good.”
“How’s this?” Dewey laughed. He’d found a meme of an astronaut floating lost in space. As he tumbled head-over-heels, the text below read, “There’s no Wi-Fi up here.”
After they finished laughing they plugged it into the ‘does it meet the only-those-who-have-read-the-book-get-the-reference?’ test.
“Well,” Colin said, “It’s funny ’cause space is black and so was all that water when he swam out that far. And he’s floating around in it.”
“Okay!! Okay!! Good! Meme generator. Get the line from the book.”
“Use, ‘He felt a thousand miles out, nothing on which to stand, rest or lean.’ It totally works!!” They both laughed loud and hard, picturing that astronaut in space rolling around as that poor Jedd kid from the book.
“Okay, okay. One more. Now we have to use that same line but make our own meme photo for it.”
“Look through your phone for pictures,” Colin said as he began to scroll through old pictures on his own.
“You can search. Put ‘water.’” Dewey said.
“Ha!” Colin pulled up a picture of them from a couple summers back— him, Dewey, and their friend Walker hanging on a raft. Dewey was wearing a short sleeved green rash guard, and the other two boys were bare on top.
“I still had braces, then!”
“Oh! Look.” Dewey showed Colin a picture of a wet Wolfie dog-paddling in the middle of a sky-blue pool. Most of his body was submerged fully under water, but his wet black ears hung drenched, dragging on the surface. His usual fluff-ball hair lay flat, except for one piece of white fur that stood up on his snout like a compass guiding the way. That big black teddy bear butt
on nose periscoped out of the water as he dragged a heavy water-logged Skunky to safety.
“Aw, Wolfie.”
“I know. Clara had to give him swimming lessons.”
“With a class?” he laughed at the idea.
“Private lessons! Some dog swim school. They said he knew how but he was just scared, haha. The only way to get him in the water was to throw in his Skunky. Now, get near a pool and she says he drops Skunky in.”
“This totally works! It’ll be hilarious!” Colin stretched Wolfie bigger with his finger. “We’ll just Photoshop in some water so it’s dark. It’s perfect. He’s dog-paddling. That’s totally treading water!! Look,” he said, holding up the phone. They both laughed.
“Airdropping.” As Dewey did so, however, he got a text and he and Colin both jumped.
A-oo-gahh.
“Could that be louder?!”
“Sorry. Didn’t know I had it up so high,” Dewey laughed as he looked down to see what Clara wanted. That was her text notification.
Boss. Better come by if you can. Now-ish good?
“Hmm. Clara wants me. That’s weird. Finish up?” Dewey asked, flashing him a smile.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Thanks, Pal!”
Dewey threw his stuff into his backpack and looked at his phone to make sure she hadn’t written anything else. But that was it. He wondered what was up.
Discovered
Dewey slid into the office onto the pillow and could hardly process what he saw. At first, for all of about three full seconds, he thought everything was normal. His body did not register a crisis. Then, by about the fourth second, his body felt the tingling zap of a shock, like when someone jumps out around a corner and scares you unexpectedly.
He caught his breath. He made a quiet but audible gasp. His face flushed and got hot. His fingertips and legs buzzed. All that happened on second number four. And by second number five his brain caught up—Pooh Bear sat in his office chair, crunching on cookies.
He looked at Pooh. He looked at Clara.
She gave him a big shrug and a cheerful, “Look who slid in, boss.”
“Uh, hey, Pooh, what ya doin’ here?” Dewey spoke slowly.