Danny's Doodles

by David Adler

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  Copyright © 2015 by David A. Adler

  Cover and internal design ©2015 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Regina Flath

  Cover illustration © Regina Flath

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  Fax: (630) 961-2168

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Adler, David A., author, illustrator.

  Danny’s doodles : the dog biscuit breakfast / David A. Adler.

  pages cm

  Summary: The ever-quirky Calvin convinces Danny to help him start a rent-a-pet business when Calvin’s Aunt Ruth asks the boys to watch her miniature collie while she is away, but first they will have to find a renter.

  [1. Eccentrics and eccentricities--Fiction. 2. Intellect--Fiction. 3. Friendship--Fiction. 4. Collie--Fiction. 5. Dogs--Fiction. 6. Schools--Fiction.] I. Title. II. Title: Dog biscuit breakfast.

  PZ7.A2615Dak 2014

  [Fic]--dc23

  2015002166

  Source of Production: Versa Press, East Peoria, Illinois, USA

  Date of Production: June 2015

  Run Number: 5004196

  For my grandson Aaron.

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1: Monday Morning—Devon and Parsley

  Chapter 2: It’s Not a Dream. It’s a Nightmare.

  Chapter 3: Television Is Like Cake

  Chapter 4: Noodling

  Chapter 5: Calvin Juggles

  Chapter 6: My Teacher the Waffle

  Chapter 7: I’ll Be a Millionaire

  Chapter 8: She Has Her Ways

  Chapter 9: Arf! Arf!

  Chapter 10: A Real Cute Dog

  Chapter 11: A Dog Biscuit Breakfast

  Chapter 12: The Birthday Cake Clown

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  “Look at him,” my friend Calvin Waffle says.

  We’re walking to school, and Calvin points to a man walking a dog. He’s wearing a bathrobe and slippers. That’s what the man is wearing, not Calvin or the dog. Calvin is wearing one red-and-white polka-dot sock and one purple sock. I can see his socks because his pants are a bit short. The dog is wearing a leash and a collar and has lots of short, curly hair.

  “I know all about him,” Calvin says.

  Maybe he does. Calvin’s father is a spy. That’s what he told me. Maybe Calvin is one too. Maybe he’s spied on Bathrobe Man. Maybe he’s spied on lots of people in our neighborhood.

  Maybe he’s spied on me!

  Calvin says, “The man has a child, probably a son named Devon, who wanted a dog. ‘I’ll take care of him,’ Devon promised. ‘I’ll even clean up after him. Please, Dad, please.’” Calvin stops. He grabs my arm and asks, “And do you know what that man did?”

  I shake my head. I don’t know. I’m not the spy. Calvin is.

  “He bought the dog for his son. Because of all that curly hair, Devon named the dog Parsley, and for the first two weeks, he walked Parsley five times a day. He fed the dog so much that it puked.”

  “Yuck!”

  Just thinking about a dog puking makes me want to puke.

  “That was just two weeks ago, and do you know what?”

  I shake my head. How should I know what? I didn’t even know the boy’s name was Devon.

  “Now Devon doesn’t even look at Parsley. He surely doesn’t take care of him.”

  This is all very interesting, but we have to get to school.

  “We’ve got to get going,” I tell Calvin. “We can’t be late again.”

  Our teacher is Mrs. Cakel, and she doesn’t like it when we’re late. She also doesn’t seem to like it when we’re on time.

  Mrs. Cakel doesn’t like it if we write our names too small or too big at the top of our homework papers. She doesn’t like it when we answer her questions too loud or too quiet—even if the answer is right. She also doesn’t like it if we wear shirts with sparkles or sneakers with blinking lights. Actually, Mrs. Cakel doesn’t like most things we do or wear. I don’t think she’s a happy woman.

  Calvin lets go of my arm. We walk toward the corner and then stop. We wait for it to be safe to cross the street.

  Calvin turns and says, “Now look at him.”

  I look at Bathrobe Man again. He’s pulling on Parsley’s leash. The dog wants to smell the grass, and Bathrobe Man is in a rush. He looks tired and grumpy.

  “Devon no longer wants the dog,” Calvin tells me. “Now he wants a football. Now it’s Devon’s father who feeds, walks, and cleans up after Parsley. He shouldn’t have bought his son a dog. He should have rented one.”

  “You can’t rent a dog,” I say.

  “Why not? You can rent ice skates, boats, chairs for a party, penguin suits, and cars. Why can’t you rent a dog?”

  “Penguin suits?”

  “Tuxedos. You know, the suits men wear to weddings.” Calvin thinks for a moment and then tells me, “One day, I might get married, but I won’t wear a tuxedo.”

  We watch as Parsley lifts one of its back legs. I don’t want to say what Parsley does, only that I’ll be real careful this afternoon when we walk home from school. I don’t want to step where that dog stopped and did what it did. I’m wearing sneakers, and it’s not easy getting that stuff out of the grooves in the bottoms of sneakers. I tell that to Calvin.

  Calvin laughs and says, “Can you imagine, I’m getting married and I’m wearing the shiny shoes people wear with their penguin suits, and I step in that stuff? People would smell me as I walk down the aisle. They wouldn’t say ‘Here comes the groom.’ They’d say ‘Here comes the stink.’”

  I can’t imagine that. Not the smelly shoe stuff. I can’t imagine Calvin getting married.

  I look at my watch again and say, “We’ve really got to get going.”

  He doesn’t care if Mrs. Cakel yells, but I do.

  We cross the street.

  As we walk, Calvin keeps talking about Parsley, and all this parsley talk is making me hungry. Mom usually serves parsley on fried fish, and she serves the fish with french fried potatoes, and I love those fries dipped in ketchup.

  “We’re here,” Calvin says.

  We are. We’re in the school playground and we’re on time. Kids are still here waiting for the bell to ring.

  My friends Douglas and Annie are right by the door. They have been my friends since kindergarten. Now they’re Calvin’s friends too.

  Douglas and Annie
are not by the school door because they’re in a hurry to see Mrs. Cakel. It’s just that she gives us so much homework and we have to take so many books back and forth to school that our book bags are real heavy. Douglas and Annie are standing by the door because they’re in a hurry to put their bags down.

  The bell rings.

  “I’m going to think about that,” Calvin says as we walk into school. “I’m going to think about Devon and his father and that curly-haired dog. I’m going to think about how I can start a rent-a-pet business.”

  He can’t fill his house with dogs and other pets. His mother won’t let him have any. I think she’s allergic.

  Calvin stops by the water fountain. I go right to class.

  “There’s work on the board,” Mrs. Cakel tells us as we walk into class. “Get started.”

  The whole board is covered with writing. The heading is “Chronology of the Revolution.” Under that is a list of years and things that happened in the time of George Washington.

  Did you know that Paul Revere and William Dawes were not the only ones to warn “The British are coming”? Those were both in 1775. Two years later, in 1777, Sybil Ludington, a sixteen-year-old girl, warned that the British were attacking in Danbury, Connecticut. Sybil Ludington rode lots of miles on a horse named Star.

  “Mrs. Cakel could just print off the stuff and give it to us, but she writes it on the board and makes us copy it,” Douglas once said during lunch. “She does that to keep us busy and quiet.”

  “No,” Annie said. “Copying that stuff helps us remember it.”

  I don’t try to know why Mrs. Cakel tells us to do things. I just do them. That keeps me out of trouble.

  BANG!

  Calvin drops his book bag on the floor.

  PLOP!

  He falls into his seat.

  Mrs. Cakel looks at him, and it’s not an “I’m so glad you’re on time today” look. It’s more of an “I’ll get you” and a “You’ll be sorry” look.

  I once asked Calvin why he makes so much noise when he comes to class.

  “She has that big NO sign in the room,” he told me. “No talking in class without her permission. No mumbling. No calling out. No walking about. No slouching. No gum chewing. No eating in class. No note sending. It does not say ‘No book dropping.’ It does not say ‘No seat plopping.’ That means it’s allowed.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I told Calvin. “It doesn’t say ‘No kite flying,’ but that doesn’t mean you can bring in a kite with lots of string and fly it in the classroom.”

  “Kite flying in Cakel’s class,” Calvin said. “That’s a great idea.”

  If anyone else had said that, I would have known he was joking, but with Calvin, I couldn’t be sure.

  “I’ll need a breeze,” Calvin said, “so I’ll open all the windows. I’ll get a dragon kite with long paper teeth and a long paper tail.” He thought for a moment and then added, “I’ll start it flying in the classroom, and when it hits the ceiling, I’ll push it out the window. I’ll tie the end of the string to my desk. Oh, this will be fun!”

  I didn’t tell Calvin he wouldn’t be allowed to fly a kite in class. It’s not a good idea to tell Calvin what’s not allowed. He thinks of the word no as a challenge. That might be why he has so much trouble with Mrs. Cakel. She’s always telling us what not to do, and he’s always doing it.

  So far, he hasn’t brought a kite to class. But the school year is not over.

  After we copy the chronology, Mrs. Cakel talks to us about the war. She tells us about the winter that began at the end of 1777. George Washington led his troops to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. It was real cold, and many of his soldiers had no coats or shoes. But they worked like beavers—really like beavers—and built cabins with logs and mud. Washington’s wife, Martha, knitted socks for the men. It’s too bad she didn’t knit shoes and coats for them.

  After the American Revolution lesson, Mrs. Cakel teaches us more stuff about fractions. Then we read.

  Every few minutes I look at Calvin. He has his book open but I can tell he isn’t reading. His eyes aren’t moving. Try it. You can’t read without moving your eyes.

  On our way to lunch, Calvin says, “I’ve been thinking about Devon and Parsley. I can’t have a dog or any pet, but I have figured how I can start a rent-a-pet business.”

  His idea must have something to do with computers. When he’s not thinking about how to upset Mrs. Cakel, he’s playing computer games. I bet he’s going to create virtual pets. It will be like you have a pet dog, but it will just be on the computer. His idea won’t work. A computer can’t run to you and wag its tail when you get home from school. You can’t pet a computer.

  Calvin hasn’t told me his idea, just that he has one. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I think it will lead to trouble. Calvin’s ideas usually do.

  In the cafeteria, Calvin, Douglas, Annie, and I sit at our regular table, the one nearest the window.

  Annie opens her lunch bag. She’s got another smelly salami sandwich. Soon it will be nose-holding time. Her breath smells good in the morning, but every day after lunch, she has salami breath.

  Calvin has a marshmallow-banana-carrot sandwich on whole wheat bread. He says he doesn’t like it, but he makes his own lunch, so every day he makes himself a sandwich for lunch that he doesn’t like. Now, it’s hard to explain why Calvin does that, but Calvin is hard to explain.

  He also has a bunch of cookie mistakes. His mother works in a bakery, and sometimes the drop of raspberry jelly that should be in the middle of the cookie is way off to the side. That’s a cookie mistake and they can’t sell it, so his mother brings it home. He also has lots of broken cookies that they can’t sell. And do you know what? Cookie mistakes and broken cookies taste just as good as regular ones.

  Douglas has bologna. I know bologna looks and tastes like salami, but it doesn’t smell the same. I have American cheese and lettuce.

  “Listen to this,” Calvin says. He tells Douglas and Annie all about Devon, Bathrobe Man, and Parsley.

  “Now listen to my great idea.”

  I know I shouldn’t listen, but I do. Somehow I feel his idea will mean trouble for me.

  I should tell him I can’t get involved with any idea he has, that I have to help Martha Washington knit socks for the Continental Army.

  But I don’t.

  I should tell him I have to hurry because I’m going on a ride with Sybil Ludington.

  But I don’t.

  I listen to Calvin’s great idea.

  “Here it is. Children want pets, but after one or two weeks, they’re bored with them. Danny and I are starting a new business, Calvin’s Rent-A-Pet.”

  “Hey,” I say. “If we’re in business together, why is it just called Calvin’s? What about me?”

  “Okay, Calvin and Danny’s Rent-A-Pet.”

  “That’s better.”

  Calvin stands. He’s about to announce his great idea.

  “There’s a real need for pets that dads and moms can rent. That’s the whole idea behind Calvin and Danny’s Rent-A-Pet. But where do we get the pets? I can’t keep them in my house. My mom’s allergic.”

  I told you!

  I hope he doesn’t plan to keep animals at my house. My mom doesn’t like a mess. She likes our house to be neat and clean, and that means no animals.

  “People travel,” Calvin says, “and they can’t take their pets with them. What do they do? They pay a lot of money for someone to watch their dogs and cats and ferrets.”

  Ferrets?

  “Now they can bring their pets to Calvin and Danny’s Rent-A-Pet and pay just a little. What will we do with all those pets?”

  That’s a rhetorical question, the kind you don’t answer.

  “We won’t keep the pets. We’ll rent them to lots of people like Bathrobe Man so they won�
�t have to buy dogs for their children. They can rent one for just a week or two. By the time their children are bored with their pets, they’ll give them back to us and we’ll return them to their real owners, who will be back from their trips.”

  “Hey,” Douglas says. “That is a good idea.”

  “It’s a great idea,” Calvin says.

  He says great much too loud. He kinda shouts it. Kids from the other tables turn and look.

  “People who give us their pets because they’re traveling will pay us. People who rent the pets will pay us. Everyone will be paying us.”

  Hey, I’ll be rich.

  Calvin talks on and on about his idea.

  “Danny and I will advertise for people who travel to leave their pets with us. We’ll also put signs near pet shops: ‘Don’t buy your child a pet. Rent one!’ Soon it will be big, big business. We’ll make so much money that we’ll buy the school and fire the Cakel.”

  WE’LL BUY THE SCHOOL!

  I don’t like the way that sounds, especially the “we’ll” part. Why would I want to own a school?

  How did this happen? How did I get involved in all this?

  Now I remember. I complained when he called his business just Calvin’s Rent-A-Pet.

  Douglas says, “I want to be in the business.”

  Calvin looks at me.

  “We’re not ready to hire workers,” he says. Then he asks me, “Isn’t that right?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “I don’t know anything. I don’t even know how I became a partner in a pet-renting business and in buying a school.”

  “You’re my best friend,” Calvin tells me. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  What can I say?

  Lunchtime ends. We go back to class, and I keep thinking about this Rent-A-Pet idea and wonder what’s wrong with it. I haven’t known Calvin real long. It’s only been two months since he moved onto my block. I like him, but I’m not sure I want to be his business partner. His idea sounds good, but somehow I know it will lead to trouble, and I’ll be in the middle of it.