“Well, not if he’s keeping you awake,” Mom says. She climbs out of her bed and puts on her robe and slippers because that’s what oldish people do when they miss their cozy beds. Mom ushers me and Patches out of her room, down the hall, and back into my bed.
Mom tucks the covers up to my chin. “Why do you think Patches can’t sleep?” she asks.
“He feels bad that he slobbered on the mac and cheese. And that he’s always chasing Dwight White and causing a ruckus.”
“Hmm. Yes. But then I think he feels sorry. And we forgive him, don’t we, Lola?”
“But he can’t say he feels sorry, Mom.”
“No, but he shows it. And remember what Mrs. D. told you? Showing you’re sorry is just as important as saying you’re sorry.”
“But Jessie and Amanda are so so mad at me, Mom,” I say. And my voice goes this-a-way and that-a-way. “And maybe it was the final straw.”
“Lola,” Mom says, “I’ve known Amanda Anderson for a long time, and I believe she has a very big heart. And I’ve known you even longer, Lola dear. Your heart is just as big. When two friends have big hearts, they can get through a lot of problems.”
“What about Jessie? Do you think she has a big heart?”
“Yes, I do think so.”
Mom reaches down and kisses me on the forehead and on each cheek.
“Goodnight, Lola. Tell Patches not to worry. We love him and we forgive him.”
13. DEAR JESSIE AND AMANDA
Dear Jessie,
I’m really, really sorry for telling a whopper about Savannah’s adorable cuddly brown dog, Jessie, with the big brown eyes and the wet pink tongue. I will try my best not to tell any more whoppers. And can I sometimes sit with Amanda on the bus and practice the Hand Jive? I can tell you all about the Olden Days when me and Amanda used to wear diapers.
Love,
Lola
P.S. I hope you like the four giant hearts I drew. There’s one for each of us.
Dear Amanda,
Do you remember that time when we were little? I mean that time when we decided to go on a walk and we only had on diapers? We ended up at Mrs. McCracken’s house and she gave us animal crackers and apple juice? And when our moms came to get us, we didn’t even want to leave. We were funny babies! We sure had a lot of adventures on Cherry Tree Lane.
I am sorry I fibbed about getting a puppy for Savannah. Especially since I pinkie-promised. That was a no-good dirty rotten thing and I bet you are thinking to yourself what is wrong with that Lola Zuckerman?
I tried to think about it and Mom helped me. I think I told you that whopper because I want you to like me best of all the people in the world. And the best people are the ones who get puppies for other people.
But Mom said only if you really do it. And somebody can still like you even if you don’t get a puppy for them or even if they move away from your street.
My hand is all tired out from writing.
I hope you read my whole letter and your eyeballs didn’t get tired out cause there’s a surprise at the end.
I love you!
Sincerely,
Lola Katherine Zuckerman
P.S. I hope you like the four giant hearts I drew. There’s one for each of us.
14. JUST A LONELY PUMPKIN
MY HEAD IS HAMMERING. THAT’S because Mom combed my hair and OUCHY WA WA! That hurt, I’ll tell you. My hair likes to knot up and that’s not nice. From now on I’m going to brush my hair every single morning and every single night. Maybe.
And now Principal McCoy’s banging on the microphone.
“Good afternoon, Cloverdale! We’re excited to sponsor the 11th annual Cloverdale Second Grade Play Festival. We think the kids are just as excited about performing their plays as they were about trick-or-treating last week.”
“Wrong,” Harvey whispers into my ear.
“First, we have a special treat from retired fifth grade teacher Mrs. Mary McCracken, who will be singing her original song, ‘Dance of the Autumn Leaves.’”
Mrs. McCracken wobbles out onto the stage in her nice shoes that she must have cleaned the mud off of.
“Thank you, everyone,” she says. And then she starts singing. The beginning part still sounds like a ghost. But I’ll never tell her that, ’cause I don’t want to get her feeling all soupy again. And everyone has a right to yowl in their own backyard.
Right next to me Harvey is hopping from one foot to the other.
I’m sweating inside my pumpkin costume that smells like Granny Coogan’s attic. That’s ’cause it gets handed down every autumn. But all the trick-or-treaters in the play get to wear their real costumes. So Amanda and Jessie are flouncing around in Cupcake Queens costumes. And even though they’re talking to me again, it feels like winter inside my heart.
Finally Mrs. McCracken takes a bow. Everyone claps, including me. Mrs. McCracken comes bustling off the stage. Bustling is what you do when you’re in a hurry but you’re wearing a dress.
“You were good,” I whisper really loud so Mrs. McCracken can hear.
“Thank you,” Mrs. McCracken says but her face says grrrrr.
“And now it’s time for Once Upon a Pumpkin, performed by Mrs. DeBenedetti’s second-grade class,” Principal McCoy says.
Harvey gives me a shove.
My legs are sweating and I can’t make them move even though I tell them Go!
“I can’t,” I say. “I’m too scared.”
“You have to,” Harvey says. “You’re the pumpkin.”
I feel all bawly and not so good. I see Mrs. D. from eight heads away. She has that smile on her face that says Oh Yes You Can.
All of a sudden there’s a Cupcake Queen on one side of me. And a Cupcake Queen on the other side of me. And right in front of me there’s an old lady.
“I’m sorry I lied about the puppy,” I say in a dumb ol’ blubber voice. “I only felt bad for Patches ’cause he’s all on his own.”
“No, he’s not,” Amanda says. “Barkley wants to play with him.”
“Maizy wants to play with him too,” Jessie says.
“And I want to watch,” Savannah the old lady adds.
Principal McCoy taps the microphone. “And now we have Once Upon a Pumpkin.”
“Okay,” I say, and guess what? We have a pumpkin, cupcake, and old lady hug.
I roll out to the stage and I’m supposed to say something but I can’t remember what it is. Not at all.
Then I remember how I felt.
And I say, “I’m just a lonely pumpkin, sitting in a pumpkin patch.”
I smile big. So big. Because right over there I can see Amanda and Jessie and Savannah and they are my friends.
And we’ll never fight again.
Maybe.
THE KIDS IN MRS. DEBENEDETTI’S SECOND GRADE CLASS (ALPHABETICAL ORDER)
Amanda Anderson
Harvey Baxter
Dilly Chang
Jessie Chavez
Abby Frank
Charlie Henderson
Sam Noonan
Sophie Nunez
Olivia O’Donnell
Madison Rogers
Rita Rohan
Ari Shapiro
Ruby Snow
Jamal Stevenson
Gwendolyn Swanson-Carmichael
John Carmine Tabanelli
Timo Toivonen
Savannah Travers
Ben Wexler
Lola Zuckerman
1. HUSH ABOUT THE BRIGHT BLUE BRUSH
MY NAME IS LOLA ZUCKERMAN, and Zuckerman means I’m always last. Just like zippers, zoom, and zebras. Last. Zilch, zeroes, and zombies.
ZZZZZZZ when you’re too tired to stay awake. ZZZZZZZZ when a bee is about to sting you. Z. Dingdong LAST in the alphabet.
“FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!” I, Lola Zuckerman, yell.
“Lola, don’t cuss on the bus!” Amanda says. “Now HOLD STILL, I told you.”
“Yeah, Lola, hold still,” Jessie says. “You’ve got the WORST hair
knot I’ve ever seen.”
I hold still, all right. If I don’t, Amanda Anderson might just pull all the hair right out of my head.
“I . . . almost . . . almost . . . almost—”
“YOWCH!” I yell. “Stop that, Amanda!” I smooth down the big hair knot on the back of my head. “That’s good enough.”
“Nuh-uh,” Amanda says. “It’s stuck in there. Your Mom will get it out for you I bet.”
“No, sir,” I say. “Right before the second-grade play she almost killed my whole head.” Mom has a bright blue brush that can make curly hair straight. It can turn a poodle into a collie. That bright blue brush and I are best enemies.
Sal pulls our bus up to Amanda and Jessie’s stop. It didn’t used to be Amanda’s stop. She used to live next door to me on Cherry Tree Lane. That’s where we invented our secret Peanut Butter and Jelly handshake. Elbow, elbow, smack, smack, wiggle, wiggle, shake, shake. Ooga booga! Ooga! Booga! That was before she and all the Andersons moved to Windy Hill Drive.
“BYE, AMANDA!” I yell before she climbs off the bus.
“Bye,” she says.
“Bye, Jessie,” I say.
Pretty soon it’s my stop.
“Adios, amiga,” Sal calls. That means goodbye, friend in Spanish, only Sal is Italian.
Mom waves to Sal. She’s in her car at the bus stop. Fishsticks. Mom’s car at the bus stop means errands.
My brother Jack is sitting in the front seat. Jack gets to ride in the front away from me ’cause Mom can’t take it anymore.
I notice an ant crawling down the road. I airlift it over to a nice green yard.
“Get your Rear End in here,” Jack yells.
I climb into the backseat and buckle myself up. “Where are we going?”
“Shopping.”
I groan. “For clothes?” All those itchy tags and sales ladies—blech! I don’t like shopping for clothes. No, sir.
Mom says, “No, food shopping. And I have a surprise.”
“What-what-what?” I yell-ask.
Jack yell-answers, “We’re hosting Thanksgiving this year and all our relatives are coming.”
“We are?” I hop up and down in my seat. “Yay!”
Usually we fly all the way to Dallas, Texas, to Grampy and Granny Coogan’s. Or we drive all the way to Brooklyn to Grandma’s. We have to leave Patches at the dog hotel. Patches is sad at the dog hotel. He sits on the balcony and waits for me to come back. Maybe.
I think of something bad about hosting Thanksgiving, and my hop stops.
My grandmas ALWAYS ask me and Jack TWO HORRIBLE QUESTIONS. “How do you like my pumpkin pie? Is it the best pumpkin pie you ever tasted?”
It’s like being the rope in a tug-of-war game.
Jack told me to tell BOTH of them their pie is the best. I know that’s lying. I know one is better.
I, Lola Zuckerman, know one tastes like licking a candle. I’m not telling which. So I lie to one of those grannies. Now both grannies are going to be in one place. My house. What if they find out I’m lying? What if I get caught?
Lying is bad.
And so is getting caught.
Lola Zuckerman Interviews Author Christine Pakkala
Q. I know you’re a famous author, but if you could be another famous person, who would it be?
A. That’s a tough one because I’m having so much fun in my own life, spending time with you! But if I could be Sherlock Holmes for a day or two, I would enjoy that. Wouldn’t it be fun to solve mysteries? I would also like to be (for a day): Amelia Earhart, Zelda Fitzgerald, Marie Curie, Rosa Parks, Queen Elizabeth, and Abraham Lincoln.
Q. If you could have any animal as a pet, what would you choose?
A. Another tough question! I love animals, and if I could, I’d live inside a zoo. But just one? I’d choose a giraffe. Of course, I’d have to move to Africa because I wouldn’t want to take the giraffe away from its home!
Q. Do you have any kids?
A. I have two kids, Simon and Lulu. Simon is six feet, five inches tall and Lula and I wear the same shoe size, which is handy for borrowing.
Q. Do they drive each other crazy, like Jack and I do sometimes?
A. Sometimes! But mostly they get along.
Q. Gardening with my granny makes me feel special. What makes you feel special?
A. When I was your age, I loved going to the library. My town library was very small and cozy. I loved sitting at the big oak table with my sister and reading. I especially loved the librarian, who wore dark red lipstick. She let me come one summer Saturday and help her stamp books. I wore a red plaid dress and patent leather shoes that day. I still have that feeling of happiness when I walk through the doors of my town library (the Westport Public Library, a wonderful place).
Q. What do you think makes a best friend?
A. A best friend is someone who knows all the good and not-so-good stuff about you and loves you anyway. A best friend is someone who says “sorry” when she hurts your feelings and really is sorry, because she would never want to hurt you. A best friend is someone who tells you that the chocolate-chip cookies you baked without the sugar (you forgot) are actually pretty tasty. A best friend is someone who falls right onto the floor laughing because of a funny story you told. A best friend is someone you would do anything for—anything.
Q. Did you ever feel like you didn’t have any friends?
A. Oh, my! Yes. I think everyone feels that way sometimes. But I always had my sister, and even when my best friend got mad at me, or when I felt lonesome, I could talk to my sister.
Q. Do you have a dress with pockets? Secret pockets for special things, like mine?
A. Hmm. No, I don’t, but now that you mention it, I wish I did! If I did, I would carry pens, peppermints, and reminder notes.
Q. When’s your birthday? How do you celebrate?
A. My birthday is May 10. I celebrate with stargazer lilies, cards, and spicy African peanut soup, which my husband makes for me.
Q. Who were you before you became a famous writer?
A. Before, I was still a writer. I’ve been a writer since I was your age. I used to make “The Pakkala Printer Press,” which was a newspaper about my family news (very small circulation). I also kept a diary when I was your age, which I still have. It’s full of very strong opinions.
Q. Do you have a real job?
A. Ahem! I consider writing to be a real job, but I also have some other jobs. I teach creative writing to kids in a great program called Writopia. I also teach creative writing to adults at the library. I take care of my family—that’s a big job. My son loves open-faced sandwiches. Here’s how you make them: Toast slices of French bread. Spread with guacamole (that you have to make from scratch—he can tell the difference). Stack rolls of fresh smoked turkey. Cover with a slice or two of muenster cheese. Broil. Serve. He eats a LOT. My daughter eats a lot, too. She likes Nachos Supreme. Here’s how you make them: Cover a plate with warm black beans. Add a layer of low-salt tortilla chips. Sprinkle with Mexican-blend cheese. Bake for ten minutes. Serve with salsa.
Q. How did you get to be so funny?
A. Lola, thank you for thinking I’m funny! When I was in ninth grade geometry class, I used to sit behind a boy named Damon Vickers. I used to whisper funny things to Damon and he would say them in a loud voice to the rest of the class. Everyone would laugh, and that made Damon (and me) feel good. Of course, Mr. Albert, our teacher, probably didn’t think it was so funny . . .
Q. You aren’t last in the alphabet but you’re past the middle point. Does it cause you problems?
A. No, not really, but my last name, which is Finnish, causes some problems because people don’t know how to pronounce it: it’s pronounced like PACK-A-LUNCH. Only PACK-A-LA.
Q. I love visiting my Granny and Grampy Coogan in Texas. Do you travel? Who do you go see?
A. I love going home to Idaho and visiting my relatives, especially my sister and all my girl cousins. And my Aunt Sue, who always makes my
favorite foods when I come to visit her. I love sitting at her kitchen table with my sister and all my girl cousins. We can sit there for hours, talking. My husband is amazed at how long we can talk. I also like to go everywhere else. I’ve been rained on in Paris. I’ve ridden a horse in Costa Rica (also in the pouring rain), and I’ve gone dancing in Russia. One of my favorite places in the world is Florence, Italy.
Q. Jack and I like playing games, especially “which-is-true-which-is-false,” at dinnertime. Do you play this game with your family?
A. Yes! That’s a funny coincidence—we play the exact same game!
Q. Do you count to three when your kids act up?
A. That’s another funny coincidence because I do, indeed.
Q. Have you ever been heartsick?
A. Yes. Once when I was walking my golden retrievers, one of them got away from me. I looked everywhere for her but I couldn’t find her. I was heartsick. I thought maybe I would never see her again. Then, when I was just about to start crying, she came ambling across the yard. She had gotten into my neighbor’s compost pile and had eaten TWELVE corncobs. We had to take her to the dog hospital, and then I was heartsick all over again. But luckily the wonderful veterinarian at the Cornell Animal Hospital in Stamford, Connecticut, was able to get out all the corncobs (and a rock, and a stick).
Q. What was your favorite thing to do in second grade? Can you remember that far back?
A. In second grade I loved swinging on the swings, climbing the weeping willow in my backyard, and having my dad push me on our tire swing. But I also loved pretending. My sister and my cousin Ila and I would pretend we were famous movie stars. We would do this for hours and hours. In second grade I loved my teacher, Mrs. Line. She told funny stories, like the time she got her first haircut. She cried and cried because she thought it would hurt! In second grade I loved my best friend, Jill Garlinghouse. We decided to make a list of all the dogs in our hometown, but at the very first house the dog bit her, so we went home with just one dog on the list.
Last-But-Not-Least Lola and the Cupcake Queens Page 5