by Nancy Krulik
“I’m your guy,” George said. Then he stopped for a second. “You’re not going to make me do anything that will get me in trouble, right?”
Alex shook his head. “No. And besides, I can snap you right out of it by snapping my fingers.”
“Okay, then,” George said.
“Let’s go over by that huge tree in the corner of the yard,” Alex suggested. “I don’t want anyone to see us. It will give away my whole presentation.”
As George followed Alex over to the big tree, he felt something funny in the bottom of his belly. Only this time it wasn’t bubbles. And it wasn’t bouncing. It was more like wiggly worms creeping and crawling inside him. The same feeling George always got when he was nervous.
Hypnotism was scary. George trusted Alex, but he was just a kid. What if things went wrong? What if George couldn’t come out of it? Ever?
George’s hands started to get all moist and sticky. He shoved them in his pockets and tried to dry them off.
“Now just relax,” Alex said as he stopped by the huge tree. “Clear your mind.”
George took a deep breath. He tried to stop the swarms of worms from creeping and crawling inside him.
Alex pulled a watch out of his pocket. It was silver and hanging from a chain.
“Cool! Where’d you get that?” George asked.
“It’s my grandfather’s pocket watch,” Alex said. “I borrowed it for my hypnotism practice.”
“Is it really old?” George asked. “Does it still work?”
“Yes, and yes,” Alex said.
“What time is it, anyway?” George asked. He was stalling now. Maybe the bell would ring before Alex could try to hypnotize him.
“Eight twenty-three,” Alex said. “Now stop asking questions. We don’t have much time.”
George took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”
Alex started swinging the watch back and forth in front of George’s eyes. “Just keep your eyes on the watch,” Alex said in a slow, quiet, calm voice. “Block out any other distractions.”
George’s eyes moved from side to side as he watched the shiny watch swinging.
“You are getting sleepy,” Alex said. “Very sleepy.”
George blinked his eyes.
“Now close your eyes,” Alex said. “And begin to drift off.”
George closed his eyes.
“All you can hear is the sound of my voice,” Alex told him.
But that wasn’t true. He heard kids on the playground shouting. And the birds in the tree tweeting. And a couple of squirrels chattering.
“Here is my command,” Alex continued. “Whenever you hear a buzzer sound, you will act like a monkey. And you will keep acting like a monkey until I snap my fingers. Now on the count of three, you will wake up. And you won’t remember a thing about this hypnotism session.”
But George knew he would remember. He wasn’t hypnotized at all.
“One, two, three!” Alex said. “You can open your eyes now.”
George opened his eyes.
“How do you feel?” Alex asked him.
“No different,” George said. “I wasn’t really asleep. I heard everything. And I remember everything.”
BUZZZZZ. Just then the school buzzer rang. George did not act like a monkey.
Alex frowned. “I don’t know where I went wrong,” he said. He reached into his backpack, pulled out his book on hypnotism, and started to read as he walked.
George had seen Alex walk and read at the same time before. He always wondered how his best pal kept from bumping into things.
“Hey, Louie, whatcha doin’?” George heard Mike call out to Louie. Then he heard Max and Mike start laughing hysterically.
George didn’t turn around to find out what was so funny. The less he had to look at Louie, the better.
“Hey Louie, that’s hilarious!” Mike said.
“You look just like George when he went all crazy in class the other day,” Max added.
That did it. George had to turn around now. And he didn’t like what he saw.
Louie was goofing around, scratching at his armpits. Just like the burp had made George do on Monday morning.
What a jerk.
George turned to Alex. “Why does Louie hate me so much?” he asked.
Alex didn’t answer. He was too busy reading his book to pay attention to Louie, or even to George.
“Hypnotism is much harder than I thought,” Alex muttered to himself. “I figured I would get it just like that.” He snapped his fingers in the air.
Just then, Louie stopped scratching. He glared at George. “What are you staring at?” he demanded.
“I wasn’t staring,” George told him. Even though he was.
“That was the best George imitation I’ve ever seen,” Max told Louie.
“Yeah,” Mike said. “You scratched your pits just like him.”
Louie gave Mike and Max a strange look. “You guys are weird,” he said. Then he smiled. “But not as weird as King George over there.”
George sighed. He had a feeling King George was going to be what Louie called him from now on.
It sure would be great if Alex could get this hypnotism thing working. Then maybe he could hypnotize Louie into being something a little more human.
Nah. It would take a lot more than just a pocket watch and a few words to do something like that. It would take a miracle.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to hypnotize someone at the assembly,” George assured Alex that afternoon as the boys walked home from school. “You were probably doing it right. Maybe I’m just one of those people who can’t be hypnotized.”
“The book I checked out of the library did say that some people weren’t susceptible to the power of suggestion,” Alex agreed.
“Huh?” George asked.
“Some people can’t be hypnotized,” Alex explained. “You might be one of them.”
“It’s too bad,” George said. “If I could be hypnotized, then you could hypnotize the burp right out of me.” He frowned. “I really wish you could. Because if I burp up on that stage on Friday, it’ll be a disaster. Don’t you remember what happened when we went to see Mrs. Kelly perform on that dance show? The burp made me dance my pants off in front of a whole studio audience!”
“That one was hard to forget,” Alex agreed.
“I’ll say,” George said. “I was dancing in my tighty whities in front of all those people. I can’t let the burp do that to me again.”
“It would be great if I could hypnotize you not to burp,” Alex said. He thought for a minute. “Of course, there might be another way to get rid of your burp.”
“I’ll try anything,” George said.
Alex waved his arms. “Come on, we have to stop at Bartholomew’s Bagels.”
“I was kind of thinking I’d get pizza for a snack,” George said.
“No, you want an everything bagel,” Alex told him. “Trust me.”
“Why?” George asked.
“Because everything bagels are covered in onions, garlic, salt, sesame seeds, and caraway seeds. The caraway seeds absorb gas in your stomach,” Alex explained. “I read all about it on The Burp No More Blog. Some lady said she ate nothing but caraway seeds for a whole day and she stopped burping.”
“I don’t want to eat nothing but seeds.” George groaned.
“That’s why you’re getting them on a bagel,” Alex pointed out.
“I do like bagels,” George agreed. He looked through the bagel-shop window and frowned. “But Louie and his Echoes are in there.”
Alex laughed. He and George always called Max and Mike Louie’s Echoes, because they repeated or agreed with everything Louie said.
Alex looked through the window. “What’s Louie doing?” h
e asked, surprised.
George frowned. Louie was scratching at his pits, and jumping up and down. Again. And Max and Mike were laughing hysterically. Again.
“The same thing he always does,” George said. “Making fun of me. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“You can’t let Louie keep you from a burp cure,” Alex insisted.
“I guess not,” George agreed. He pushed open the door to the bagel store. The buzzer rang, letting Mr. Bartholomew know that a customer had entered his shop.
Alex and George didn’t even get through the doorway before they heard Mr. Bartholomew scolding Louie.
“Stop clowning around,” Mr. Bartholomew told him. “Do you want a bagel or not?”
Louie smiled really wide so all his teeth showed.
“Oh no, here it comes,” George grumbled. “He’s gonna call me King George. Or something worse.”
Louie turned to George. He opened his mouth and said, “Ook, ook, ook.”
“Huh?” George wondered.
“Ook, ook, ook.” Louie bent over and started scratching his pits.
“Louie, I told you to stop,” Mr. Bartholomew warned. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You started going crazy the minute you walked in here.”
“Ook, ook!” Louie shouted. He started jumping up and down.
George looked at Alex. Alex stared back at George.
“That door buzzer,” said Alex, thinking out loud. “Do you think—”
“He must have been spying on us before school,” George concluded. Then he smiled. “Louie wasn’t imitating me at all this morning. He was acting all ape because—”
“He was hypnotized!” Alex said. He was so excited he could barely speak. His voice came out in a whisper. “Louie turned into a monkey the minute he heard the buzzer on Mr. Bartholomew’s door.”
“Ook! Ook!” Louie scratched harder. He jumped higher.
“Louie! Stop that!” Mr. Bartholomew shouted. “This is a bagel shop, not a zoo.”
“Ook! Ook!” Louie ooked back.
“I’m sorry, but you have to leave,” Mr. Bartholomew said. “I can’t have kids monkeying around in here.”
Louie leaped toward the door and pushed Alex and George out of the way. He scratched happily at his pits and smiled as he ran away. “Ook, ook!”
“Hey, wait for me!” Mike shouted as he ran after Louie.
“And me!” Max added. He ran out after Louie, too.
“I gotta snap Louie out of this,” Alex said.
George laughed. “Why? I think it’s hilarious.”
“Come on.” Alex grabbed George and pulled him out of the bagel store.
“Doesn’t anyone want a bagel?” Mr. Bartholomew asked as the door shut.
“Louie! Wait up!” Alex shouted. “I can help you.”
Louie turned around and bared his teeth. “Ook, ook!”
Alex ran to catch up with Louie. And then . . . snap! Alex snapped his fingers.
Louie stopped scratching. And leaping. And ook-ooking.
Louie looked around. “How’d I get out here?” he asked.
“That was funny, Louie,” Max told him.
“Really funny,” Mike said. “I was laughing so hard.”
“I was laughing harder,” Max insisted.
“What are you guys talking about?” Louie demanded.
“How you went all ape in the bagel store,” Max said. “You were great.”
“A great ape,” Mike agreed.
Louie stared at them blankly. Then he looked over at Alex and George.
“What are you two doing here?” he demanded.
“We followed you out of the bagel shop,” George said. “Because Alex is the only one who can help you.”
“Help me?” Louie said. “I’m not the one who needs help. It’s you who needs help. Especially if you think I’m gonna let you hang out with me. I don’t want to be seen anywhere near a royal jerk like you, King George.”
“Louie, the thing is, when you were spying on us today, you—” Alex began.
“Spying?” Louie shouted. “What makes you think I was spying on you?”
“The fact that you turned into a monkey when that buzzer rang in the bagel shop,” George said.
“I didn’t do that,” Louie insisted. “And I would never spy on you, George. You’re not that interesting.” He turned to Mike and Max. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want a bagel, anyway. For some reason, I’m in the mood for a banana split.”
Louie turned and walked away. Max and Mike followed close behind.
“But, Louie—” Alex began.
But George stopped him. “Forget it,” he said. “He doesn’t deserve your help.”
“I guess not,” Alex said. “You want to go get that everything bagel now?”
“Sure.” George smiled. He was glad Mr. Bartholomew wasn’t going to be mad at him when he got there. This time someone else had gotten in trouble. That felt good.
And the fact that it had been Louie who had gone all crazy in there made it even better.
“Okay, George,” his mom said as they walked into the supermarket that evening. “I’m going to pick up a few things for dinner in the produce section while you get the ingredients you need to make your Arfendonian special.”
“I’ve got my list right here,” George said, holding up a sheet of paper. “This is going to be the best report of the whole night.”
“It will be different,” his mom agreed. “Just go get your ingredients and meet me at the cash register. And don’t get into any trouble, okay?”
“Okay.” George wasn’t worried. He’d eaten two of Mr. Bartholomew’s everything bagels. That meant he’d had a lot of caraway seeds. If Alex was right, this time the burp would stay away.
George began looking up and down the aisle for the first item on his list. Suddenly, he felt something else going up and down. Up and down . . . and all around. Bubbles! Hundreds of them! And they were all in his belly.
Oh no. Not right after he’d promised his mom he would stay out of trouble.
George had to keep that burp from bursting out of him. Maybe if he held his breath, there wouldn’t be enough air to keep the bubbles alive.
He shut his mouth tight and pinched his nose shut.
But this burp wasn’t going to be kept down. Already it was leaping over his lungs and speeding across his scapula.
George was turning blue from holding his breath.
The bubbles moved into his mouth. They licked at his lips.
The room was spinning. George needed air. He couldn’t keep from breathing another minute. He just had to . . .
The minute George opened his mouth to breathe, the burp burst out. And now whatever the burp wanted to do, George had to do.
The burp was hungry. Really, really hungry. It wanted to eat.
George’s hands started tearing at a big box of Crunch Munchies cereal—which was strange, because it wasn’t breakfast time. It was almost dinnertime! But burps don’t care about things like that.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
The Crunchy Munchies were sweet. But they were also dry. What they needed was milk.
George’s feet started running toward the dairy case. His hands grabbed a container of milk and started pouring cold, creamy milk down his throat. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
“Young man!” one of the grocers shouted. “Stop that right now!”
George wanted to stop. He really did. But George wasn’t in charge. The burp was. And it was in the mood for a chocolaty dessert.
George hurried past the canned soups and the pasta. He leaped through the cleaning products and the paper towels.
“Hey! Slow down!” shouted a woman standing near a big display of toilet-paper rolls.
George didn’t slow down. He co
uldn’t. The burp wouldn’t let him.
The woman jumped out of George’s way—and BAM! She landed in the middle of all those toilet-paper rolls. They fell to the floor in a heap!
The grocer raced around the corner. “Stop!” he shouted at George. “You . . .”
Whoops! The grocer tripped over a package of toilet paper. He landed right on his rear end. Thud!
“Cut it out!” the grocer yelled at George. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”
But the burp didn’t think that was true. It still had much more trouble to cause. So George kept running.
George stopped in front of a big ice-cream freezer. His hands grabbed a tub of chocolate ice cream and ripped off the lid. George dug one of his hands into the tub and scooped out a big blob of frozen chocolaty goodness. He shoved the handful of ice cream into his mouth.
“Yummy!” George’s mouth exclaimed.
His whole body began wiggling, jiggling, and shaking all around.
Wiggle wiggle. Jiggle jiggle. Shake.
Just then, George’s mother raced down the aisle. “George! What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Making a chocolate shake!” George answered. That wasn’t what George had wanted to say. But George wasn’t in charge of his mouth anymore. The super burp was.
George took another handful of ice cream and shoved it in his mouth. Then he started shaking again.
Wiggle wiggle. Jiggle jiggle. Shake . . . Pop!
George felt something burst in the bottom of his belly. All the air rushed out of him.
The magical super burp was gone. But George was still there—with a milk mustache and a chocolate ice-cream beard.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” his mother yelled.
George opened his mouth to say “I’m sorry.” And that’s exactly what came out.
The grocer came hurrying. He was rubbing his aching rear end with one hand, and holding a mop with the other.