by Lisa Yee
“Fishy should have a name,” Casey mused. She tapped Wandee against her forehead. “I know! How about Pretty Fish Who Swims a Lot in a Small Bowl?”
“That’s not a good name,” Bobby said. He turned the page.
“How about Da-Da-Doo?” Casey said.
“It’s taken,” Bobby told her. Casey adored the TV show Princess Becky’s Planet. She was always begging Bobby to watch it with her. Afterward, they’d pretend that Casey was the sparkly little princess who helped poor people, and Bobby was Da-Da-Doo, the pint-sized dragon who blew rainbow bubbles instead of fire.
“Then you think of a better name.” Casey pouted.
Bobby put down his book. Da-Da-Doo was a perfectly fine name for a dragon, but it was a dumb name for a fish. He considered Shamu and Nemo, but those were already taken as well. Bobby had never had a pet before, unless you counted the ant farm Gramps had given him when he was little. But there were too many ants to give them each names. And besides, they all looked the same.
Bobby glanced back at his dog book. “Rover,” he finally said. “The fish’s name is Rover.”
“That’s a dog name,” Casey said, giggling. “Silly!”
“I know, but I’ll probably never get a dog,” Bobby grumbled. He picked up the rose quartz rock Holly had given him for Christmas. “I’m stuck with a fish.”
When Casey left, Bobby asked Mr. Huggums, “If you had a sorta-best friend who asked you to go rock hunting, you’d go, right?”
There was no answer, but Bobby was used to that. Mr. Huggums was the worn brown cloth dog that Grammy had made for him when he was a baby. Annie called Mr. Huggums a “wiener dog,” but Bobby thought that sounded disrespectful. He always referred to Mr. Huggums as a dachshund. It had been years, well, months … well, weeks since Bobby had last slept with Mr. Huggums. When Grammy and Gramps took Bobby on vacation, he had left Mr. Huggums at home. Stuffed animals were for little kids.
Bobby put his rock back on the shelf and headed down to the kitchen, where Mr. Ellis-Chan was mixing cookie dough. His white apron was splattered with stains and he had flour on his face. “Hey, kiddo, want to lick the batter off the spoon?”
“No, thanks.” Bobby shook his head. His father’s cookie dough tasted like paste. Bobby and Holly had eaten paste when they were in preschool, so he knew what that was like. “Where is everyone?”
“Annie’s at football practice. Your mom just took Casey to ballet. So it’s just you and me. How about when I’m done we go to the Bow Wow Pet Shop? There’s something special I want to get for you.”
When his dad winked at him, Bobby’s eyes grew big. Bobby loved looking at the Labrador puppies in the window of Bow Wow. Could it be … ? Maybe he was getting a dog!
* * *
Bobby pushed open the door to the Bow Wow Pet Shop and was greeted by a ferocious growl. When The Freezer growled back, Mr. Ed, the pet store owner, pumped his fist in the air and cheered.
Bobby wished his father would stop goofing off. He was glad his mother wasn’t with them. Because of his asthma, there was no way she’d ever let him get a dog. His dad, on the other hand, always forgot the rules, like no more than one hour of television a day, early bedtime on school nights, and don’t hold the children upside down.
Mr. Ellis-Chan began talking to Mr. Ed in a low voice. Both men kept glancing at Bobby. Mr. Ed’s hair was white, but he looked young. Bobby admired the little mouse peeking out of his shirt pocket and the small bird perched on his shoulder. Finally Mr. Ed said, “Follow me, Bobby. I have just what you’re looking for!”
Mr. Ed strode purposefully toward the Labrador puppies. Bobby’s breath quickened, and his knees felt like rubber. The puppies looked like balls of fur, only cuter. Bobby wondered which was his. He hoped it was the black one jumping up and down and wagging his tail. As he stepped toward him, Mr. Ed called out, “Bobby, over here. What do you think of this one?”
Mr. Ed was smiling.
Mr. Ellis-Chan was smiling.
Bobby was speechless.
Finally he managed to stammer, “Th-that’s not a dog. It’s an aquarium.”
Mr. Ed chuckled. “Quite perceptive. Yes, it is an aquarium, and one of the finest ones we have. This one’s on special this weekend, so the castle and the scuba diver come with it. And if I can get your dad to pose for a photo in my store, I’ll throw in a bag of colored rocks for free! Say, Bobby, does your fish have a name?”
“Rover,” Bobby said numbly.
“Rover.” Mr. Ed nodded his approval. “Well, Rover’s going to love it. He’s one lucky fish!”
* * *
That night, as Bobby reread his dog-eared copy of The Care and Feeding of Your Puppy, Rover silently swam back and forth and explored his new home. If he had gotten the puppy, they’d be playing together right now, Bobby thought. The puppy would be chewing on his shoe and licking Bobby’s face, and Bobby would hug him. He couldn’t hug a fish.
His mother came into the room and peered into the aquarium. “Rover seems to really like the castle.” Bobby nodded. The castle was nice. It even had a drawbridge. “You have a big day tomorrow,” she said as she sat on the side of his bed.
Bobby scooted over. “Fourth grade,” he said proudly.
“My son is a fourth grader?” Mrs. Ellis-Chan teased. She brushed the hair out of Bobby’s eyes. “I’ve heard good things about your new teacher.”
As his mother continued to talk, Bobby’s mind wandered. He hoped she was right. Last year hadn’t been so great. Bobby was convinced that Mrs. Woods, his third grade teacher, hated him. It was an accident that during P.E. he had kicked her instead of the soccer ball. But no matter how much Bobby apologized, he could tell that Mrs. Woods didn’t believe him.
Then there was the issue with his name. His real name was Robert Carver Ellis-Chan, so Mrs. Woods always called him Robert. Bobby hated being called Robert, or Robby or Rob or Bob. Instead he preferred Bobby. Just Bobby. He had asked Mrs. Woods to call him Bobby about a million times. His mother even wrote a note, explaining that all his friends and family called him Bobby.
Still, Mrs. Woods insisted on calling him Robert. So for the entire third grade Bobby wasn’t even himself.
“… and be sure to look for cars when you cross the street,” Mrs. Ellis-Chan was saying. Bobby nodded as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “And don’t talk to strangers.” Before leaving, his mother tucked him in and kissed his forehead.
Bobby’s Labrador night-light glowed in the corner of the room. From his bed he could see Rover. He got up and turned off the aquarium light. Then Bobby crawled back into bed and drifted off to sleep.
WAKE UP!!!”
Bobby dove under the covers to avoid getting bashed over the head again. He peeked out to see Casey adjusting her sparkly crown with one hand as she gripped Wandee with the other.
“Bob-beeeeee, wake up!”
With the blanket over his head, Bobby slowly stood up on the bed. “I am the ghost of Da-Da-Doo, and I’m going to eat you,” he said in his deepest, scariest voice. He jumped up and down and shouted, “Prepare for your doom!”
Casey shrieked and ran down the hall, screaming, “There’s a monster in Bobby’s bed!”
Bobby smiled triumphantly. It worked every time.
“Well, Mr. Huggums,” he told his cloth dog, “today’s the first day of fourth grade. Yep, I’m in the big league now!”
Bobby started to walk down to breakfast, and then he remembered. He returned to his room. Rover was swimming at the top of the aquarium, as if waiting for his own breakfast. Bobby dropped a pinch of fish food into the tank before heading back downstairs.
The Ellis-Chans were already eating when Bobby slid into his seat. “What are those?” Annie asked, pointing to the flat brown blobs on her plate.
“Pancakes,” Mr. Ellis-Chan said proudly. He was wearing a new blue apron. It still had its price tag on. “I made them from scratch.”
Bobby glanced warily around the kitchen. It looked like someth
ing had exploded. Dirty pots and pans were everywhere. A pancake slowly slid down the refrigerator door.
“I loooove pancakes!” Casey squealed as she flung one across the table. Bobby tried to catch it but missed.
“Stop it!” Annie grumbled. She peeled the pancake off her football helmet.
“Sock,” said Bobby as he poked at a pancake with his fork. It was hard.
“What?”
Bobby pointed to her shoulder. “Sock.”
Annie sighed. “Oh, thanks.” The sock made crackling noises as she removed it from her jersey. Their dad’s biggest battle used to be the opposing football team. Now it was static cling.
“Take off your helmet, Annie,” her mother said. Mrs. Ellis-Chan was wearing her peach-colored business suit. Bobby thought she looked like the pretty dentist in that commercial where people sang about clean teeth. Mrs. Ellis-Chan closed her eyes as she took her first sip of coffee.
“I need to wear my helmet!” Annie protested. “It’s for protection.”
Mrs. Ellis-Chan’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she seemed startled to see everyone. “Don’t be silly, Annie. There’s nothing dangerous about breakfast.”
Bobby and his sister exchanged glances.
After breakfast, Mrs. Ellis-Chan pulled a static-y sock off her suit, then kissed Bobby good-bye before grabbing her briefcase. She came up with new products for Go Girly Girl, Inc., the country’s largest maker of sparkly items. “Good luck today,” she told him before driving off.
A warm feeling rushed through Bobby as he reached for his new blue backpack. It was filled with promise — freshly sharpened pencils in a clear plastic case, a glue stick, three empty folders, a yellow ruler, and a notebook of college-ruled paper.
Mr. Ellis-Chan handed a piece of paper to his son. “You may need this,” he said.
“It looks like a football diagram.” Bobby turned the paper sideways to study it more closely. It was crammed with arrows and circles and little pictures of trees and houses — even the scary gray cat with extra toes who lived on the corner. Near the school was a stick figure of Mr. Kirby, the ancient crossing guard.
“Since it’s your first time walking to school by yourself, I thought a game plan might come in handy,” his father explained.
Bobby shook his head. “But, Dad, I don’t need —”
Mr. Ellis-Chan’s jaw locked as he extended one arm in his patented Freezer position. Bobby shoved the paper into his pocket. There was no arguing with The Freezer.
* * *
As he walked toward school, Bobby felt big and brave. Sure, he was allowed to go to Holly’s and to his friend Chess’s house on his own, but they both lived nearby. Rancho Rosetta Elementary School was ten blocks away.
“Hey, Bobby, wait up!” Holly was running to catch up to him.
Bobby stared at her in disbelief. “Why are you wearing that? It’s not Halloween.”
Holly smoothed the sleeve of her light blue dress. The big white bow around the waist reminded him of toilet paper. “It’s new,” she said proudly. “Do you like it?”
Bobby shook his head. “Nope.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say!” Holly scrunched up her nose all funny, like a rabbit. “I got this yesterday when I went shopping with Jillian. She says it looks stylish.”
Bobby grimaced, but before he could reply, Holly leaned toward him and whispered, “I think we’re being followed!”
Slowly, Bobby turned around. His father was behind a palm tree that did little to hide him. Casey was standing nearby with her eyes clenched shut. Bobby knew she was thinking that if she couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see her. He pulled the crumpled diagram from his pocket. “My dad doesn’t trust me to get to school by myself,” he told Holly.
She nodded and pulled out her own piece of paper. “My mom gave this to me.” Soon they were both laughing at his diagram and her map.
When they were about a block away from school, Holly and Bobby came to the Parting Place. Without saying a word, Bobby sped up and Holly slowed down so they wouldn’t be seen together near school. They had played together every day in pre-K and asked to sit next to each other in kindergarten. Even in first grade, Bobby and Holly were still best friends in public and didn’t care when other kids made fun of them. But that was long ago. They were older now. Things changed.
Mr. Kirby was waiting at the corner with his big red STOP sign. Under STOP he had added the word “war” in small letters. Bobby, Holly, and a few more kids joined him. When the cars stopped moving, the group circled tightly around Mr. Kirby and shuffled slowly across the street. Mr. Kirby looked like he was about a hundred years old, and no one wanted him to tip over and fall.
When he was safely in front of the school, Mr. Kirby said in his cool creaky voice, “Bobby, is that The Freezer in the bushes?”
Bobby felt his face heat up.
“Aw, don’t fret,” Mr. Kirby assured him. “On the first day of school, the plants are chock-full of parents.”
Bobby glanced around. Sure enough, there were moms and dads hiding everywhere. He waved good-bye to his father and Casey and headed to fourth grade.
As Bobby walked past his old classrooms, he smiled at the kindergartners. A lot of them looked scared. First and second grade were pretty good years for Bobby. But not third grade. Last year was the worst year of Bobby’s entire school career. Mrs. Woods was always looking down her sharp nose and snarling, “Robert, pay attention and sit still!”
Sitting still was not his best subject. Drawing was, or so Bobby thought until the day Mrs. Woods said loudly, “Robert, you were supposed to draw a farm animal, not a dinosaur! I’m not sure why you have so much trouble following directions.” Bobby could still feel his ears burn. It had been a horse, not a dinosaur.
When Bobby entered Room 15, his friend Chess sprang up like a jack-in-the-box. Chess’s real name was Sanjay Kapur, but everyone called him Chess because he loved the game so much. “Bobby! You’re over there.” Chess pointed to a desk near the window. On blue construction paper was the name ROBERT.
Bobby saw that he was next to another friend of his, St. James. Last year, Mrs. Woods had a silver bell on her desk that she’d ring whenever someone misbehaved. St. James got the most rings. He got in trouble for all the things he did, and even for some things he didn’t do.
School was never dull when St. James was around. As if to prove this, he started making loud pig noises punctuated by hee-haws.
Bobby’s good mood evaporated when he saw who was sitting on his other side — Jillian Zarr. Her frown made it clear that she wasn’t happy with the seating assignment either.
“Good morning, class!” Bobby took his seat and faced front. “I’m Mrs. Carlson.” His teacher was tall, with short brown hair, and looked young, not like a mom. Her heels clicked when she walked around the room. As she passed by his desk, Bobby caught the smell of oranges. He loved oranges.
While Mrs. Carlson took attendance, Bobby checked out the room. The bulletin board featured photos of famous people like Barack Obama, Albert Einstein, and Sally Ride, the first woman astronaut. Two blue beanbag chairs nestled in the corner between shelves so stuffed with books that they looked like they would burst. On the wall near the sink was a poster that read “VOTE AND BE HEARD!”
“Robert Carver Ellis-Chan?”
Huh? Bobby looked up.
“Robert Carver Ellis-Chan?” Mrs. Carlson repeated.
“HERE!” Bobby didn’t mean to shout; it just came out that way. Luckily, Mrs. Carlson didn’t seem to mind. She just nodded and checked his name off her list.
Mrs. Carlson told the class that they had a fun year planned. “We’ll be going on a field trip to Huntington Gardens this month, and pretty soon we’ll have an election for student council representative, plus later we’ll be putting on a musical. We’re also going to learn about California’s Spanish missions and do some interesting art projects.”
Then Mrs. Carlson shared some amazing things
about herself, like that she had been to astronaut camp, had a German shepherd named Buddy, and could wiggle her ears. As the rest of the class tried to wiggle their ears, Bobby thought about Buddy. Police dogs were always German shepherds. He had seen a whole television show about this.
“Now I’d like to find out about you,” Mrs. Carlson told her new students. “Did you do something neat this summer? What are you looking forward to this school year? Do you have a unique hobby? Who would like to go first?”
St. James started talking even though he hadn’t been called on. “My mom threw away my entire collection of rubber rats,” he complained. He pushed his hair off his face and imitated a rat by making his hands look like claws. “You should have heard her scream that time I hid them in the refrigerator.”
“I learned to dive off the high board,” Holly volunteered. Bobby’s jaw dropped. Last summer both he and Holly had been afraid to even climb up to the high board. She must have learned while he was on vacation.
“I’m getting a dog,” Chess boasted when it was his turn.
Bobby felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn’t he be the one getting a dog? He only had a stupid fish.
“Robert?” Mrs. Carlson looked right at him. “We haven’t heard from you yet. What would you like me to know about you?”
Robert? Bobby didn’t know if he could stand another year of being Robert. In a rush he said, “My name is Bobby, not Robert. I don’t even know who Robert is!”
Mrs. Carlson looked surprised by his outburst. Bobby slouched lower in his chair. He wished he could disappear into a cotton-candy cloud like Da-Da-Doo, the dragon.
“Bobby,” Mrs. Carlson said slowly, as if testing the sound of it. “Bobby. Of course, I can call you Bobby. Tell me something interesting about yourself, Bobby.” Mrs. Carlson smiled encouragingly.
Bobby considered telling her about his rock collection, but that didn’t sound as exciting as it really was. Then he remembered that he had recently learned how to do “walk the dog” with his yo-yo. But he knew Chess could do that too, so it wasn’t unique. Finally he said, “Uh, my father is The Freezer, the football player.”