by Mary Amato
One good, four very bads, and four don’t knows. Not exactly a great record. Lerner wasn’t sure what to do next. She needed time to find some answers, but, unfortunately, Fip needed food. She took Fip out of his bottle and sat on her bed. The worm looked up at her hopefully. She could see his facial features quite well now. He had grown a dark, rosy brown and was about the length of a large paper clip. One week and he had quadrupled in size!
“Maybe you could learn to eat dirt for a little while,” she said. “Just until I get a few things straightened out in my mind.” She pinched a bit of dirt from her ivy plant onto a shoe box lid and put Fip in the middle of it. She set it on her bed and lay down next to it. “Just relax and try it,” she said, and closed her eyes. “Worms like dirt.” She’d relax, too, and let Fip be a regular worm for a minute or two.
Lerner’s quilt was toasty and soft. She snuggled her head in the crook of her arm and fell asleep.
Fip sniffed at the dirt for a while, trying to work up an appetite. But he finally gave up and skinched off the lid to search for something tastier. He wriggled until he came to a book open at the foot of the bed. Now this was more like it. He climbed on, found an ummy word, and began to chew.
Lerner’s eyelids drifted open. She lifted her head and glanced at the shoe box lid. “Fip?”
Her heart started pounding. She scanned the bedspread and saw her science book open at the bottom of the bed. Lerner grabbed the book, open to an illustration of photosynthesis. There! There was Fip inching up to the letters e and n. The beginning of the word was already gone. Lerner’s brain started racing to the boom of her heart. What is it that plants give off?
Oxygen! Lerner thought. Fip is eating oxygen! Oxy and g were gone. “Fip! You can’t do that! You could get us all killed.” She shook Fip in her fist and began pacing.
Fip shuddered, bouncing around in the cocoon of her hand. What was wrong? Lerner’s body was secreting her alarm chemical. Why was she flying around the room? Between two of her fingers, Fip saw the spinning world. The bottle on her desk was getting bigger and bigger. Fip curled into a ball, ready for impact. BAM! He hit the bottom of the bottle. SLAM! The lid crashed into place.
“You’re never eating again!” Lerner yelled. She backed away and tried to calm down. Was the supply of oxygen in the air thinning? She grabbed her textbook and looked at the page. Oxyg. Did it mean anything? She ran into the family room, where her parents were finishing their morning coffee.
“Oxyg! DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING? WHERE’S THE DICTIONARY?” Lerner yelled in one breath because she didn’t want to waste any.
Her parents looked at each other.
Lerner grabbed the big black dictionary off her mother’s desk and batted the pages until she found the oxys.
oxycephaly
oxygen
oxygenate
No oxyg listed. Oxyg wasn’t a word representing a real thing, so Fip’s eating had no consequences. She closed her eyes and took a big breath of beautiful oxygen. When she opened her eyes, her parents were staring at her. “Never mind,” she said, and ran back upstairs.
The bottle shook as Lerner pounded into the room. Fip pressed his bristles against the glass. Lerner peered in.
“I’m sorry I was rough,” Lerner said. “You’re probably still hungry.” A solution popped into her head. What if she fed Fip nonsense words, such as oxyg. She ran to her desk and got out a pen and paper. Putting down one random letter after another, she wrote: Gurkengabel. It just might work. For the first time all day, she felt absolutely giddy. She ran into the family room. Her parents shut their mouths quickly and looked guilty, as if they’d been talking about her. She smiled innocently and hoisted the dictionary to her chest. “I’ve got to get one of these for myself,” she said, and ran back upstairs.
gurgle
gurglet
Gurkha
gurnard
guru
No Gurkengabel. Aha! No Gurkengabel. “Have a delicious Gurkengabel!” Lerner sang as she popped Fip out of his bottle. She set him on her notebook page right next to the letter G. “Sounds pretty good if I do say so myself. One Gurkengabel! Hold the Mustard!”
The little worm looked at the ink, then up at Lerner. She was acting strange and some of her alarm chemical lingered in the air. But he was starved. Before she could change her mind, Fip gobbled the Gurkengabel.
Bobby sat at the computer in his father’s den, without the usual fear of being caught flapping around inside his chest like a bat in a shoe box. Through the open door, the light sound of his parents’ voices drifted in. Usually his parents didn’t talk at all. Most Sundays, his father worked in his office and his mother tiptoed around the house doing whatever it was that she did.
Even though he was grounded, he was having an amazing day. A lazy, ordinary, stay-at-home day. They had pancakes. And he spent the morning finishing the model bird skeleton that he had been building: wing bones—the humerus, radius, and ulna—just like his own arm bones, only light as paper. Every few minutes, he’d take a break and stick his head out the window to get a breath of fresh air. He’d look over at Lerner’s window and try to imagine what she was doing.
He logged onto the Internet and sat for a few seconds, his fingers resting on the keys. What should he search for? He didn’t know what she had fed Fip since yesterday. He typed in the key words: mystery and disappearance. One thousand and three matches. Too big to search. Tomorrow, he’d come right out and ask her all about Fip. But would Lerner really talk to him about it? Why should she trust him?
The thought of tomorrow weighed him down. Bobby had already decided that he wasn’t going to tattle on the MPOOEs. He was hoping that would gain him a little respect. But who was he fooling? Nothing would change. Tomorrow everybody would go on hating him. Including Lerner.
A substitute sat at Mr. Droan’s desk calling out the roll. Winny Auster? Here. Randy Butler? Here. Sharmaine Cabott? Here. Lerner Chanse?
The room was silent.
“She’s in the principal’s office with Bobby Nitz,” Reba said.
The substitute went on.
Randy whispered to Reba, “I bet they’re going to tell Norker that we put the tests in Bobby’s locker.”
“They can’t prove anything,” Reba said.
“I told you not to do it,” Sharmaine said, and Reba gave her a nasty look.
After ten minutes of work sheet time, the classroom door opened and in walked Bobby, Lerner, and Mrs. Norker with the stack of blank photosynthesis exams. Lerner and Bobby slid into their seats, and Mrs. Norker addressed the class.
“We’ve had some behavior problems here. Lerner and Bobby have taken responsibility for their actions and have been appropriately punished.”
Reba raised her hand. “What particular actions have Lerner and Bobby taken responsibility for?”
“None of your business, Reba.”
The room was silent.
“If they said anything negative about the MPOOE Club, I hope—”
“Reba, I don’t want to hear a word about the MPOOE Club. Enough is enough.”
Mrs. Norker delivered a lecture about good behavior and told them she didn’t expect to hear about any more problems. Then she passed out the exams and told them to get busy.
Reba whispered to Lerner, “You’d better not have blamed us for the tests.”
Lerner smiled. “SLUGs don’t need to get other people in trouble to feel powerful. Only MPOOEs do that.”
Sharmaine laughed.
Lerner looked around. The principal was right. “Enough is enough.” She ripped a piece of blank paper off the bottom of her exam and wrote:
She handed it to Sharmaine who read it and passed it on. Lerner watched as the note went from desk to desk. For the rest of the period, although they worked in silence, Lerner could feel a certain bond forming between the SLUGs. She didn’t know if Sharmaine was a part of it, but Lerner and the rest of the SLUGs were being connected by an invisible thread.
At recess
Lerner walked over to the big oak tree, which was where the MPOOEs would often begin their powwows. After a moment, thirteen SLUGs ran over and surrounded Lerner. Bobby followed but kept quiet as the others began talking at once. The words we and us began bouncing around. What should we do about the MPOOEs? The MPOOEs are planning something really horrible against us now. The space under the tree suddenly felt like a stage with Lerner in the center under the exciting heat of spotlights.
“I have something very powerful that the MPOOEs don’t have,” Lerner said mysteriously.
Bobby’s face fell. “You’re going to tell them?”
Lerner paused.
Winny looked at Bobby and then at Lerner. “Is he part of this?”
“He knows about it.”
The SLUGs digested this little tidbit of unbelievable news. Bobby Nitz, the lowest of the lowly, was in on something big.
“But is he . . . in?” Winny asked.
“He can’t be in. He’ll ruin everything,” Julio said.
“In what?” Lerner said. “What exactly is everybody talking about?” But she knew. A thing was forming, a club, centered around her, and this was her moral moment of truth. Was Bobby in or not? Without Bobby, she had a better chance of popularity. But was it fair to exclude Bobby because of his past behavior? What if he was changing? Did he deserve a chance?
“You can’t trust him,” another SLUG whispered. “He’s not really a SLUG.”
Bobby started to walk away.
“We’re not SLUGs, either!” Lerner said. “Just because the stupid MPOOEs call us SLUGs doesn’t mean we are SLUGs. Bobby, wait.”
Bobby turned around.
Lerner set her backpack on the ground. “I have principles. If I’m going to be part of a group then I don’t want it to be a snobbish clique. Anyone can be in this group who promises to keep a secret and agrees to use the power for good, not for evil.”
Everybody shut up. Bobby walked over and stood in the circle.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Bobby whispered.
Lerner did, too. She started telling them about Fip. Bobby filled in some of the missing blanks, things that Lerner didn’t know about, like the thumbtack incident and how he had found articles about the disappearances of thumbtacks, spinach soufflé, and the vending machine on the Internet. The first time he talked, everybody looked at each other as if they couldn’t believe they were listening to Bobby Nitz. But what he had to say was fascinating—especially to Lerner.
Everybody had a different idea about what to feed Fip next. Winny wanted to get rid of cigarettes, which she said her mother couldn’t stop buying, Julio wanted to get rid of poverty, and somebody wanted to get rid of guns.
“No, all those things are too big!” Lerner said.
“How about potholes?” Winny asked.
“You guys don’t get it,” Lerner said. “Even something as simple as potholes can be a problem. If we get rid of potholes, then the people who get paid to fix them will be out of a job.”
“Why don’t we concentrate on something right here at school?” Winny said.
“MPOOEs!” Julio said.
“We absolutely can’t delete people,” Lerner said. “Besides, there are some people in the club who aren’t so bad.” She thought about Sharmaine.
“What if we deleted the MPOOE Club, not the people in it?” Winny suggested. There was a general hush.
“If we fed Fip the word MPOOEs, then the people would disappear, but if we fed him the words MPOOE Club, then the thing that holds them together would disappear. Right?” Bobby whispered.
Lerner wasn’t sure. They were silent for a while. “Maybe we should try it,” somebody whispered.
“We can’t rush into anything,” Lerner said. “Let’s have another meeting tomorrow to decide.”
The bell rang. Recess ended too soon. With smiles on their faces and secret knowledge in their minds, the SLUGs walked in past the MPOOEs on the basketball court.
Reba watched, biting her nails. The SLUGs were a force. How did that happen?
As soon as Lerner got home, she called up the Internet news and typed in the key word Gurkengabel. She expected to see “0 matches” on the screen; instead, an article appeared.
Oh great! Lerner couldn’t believe her rotten luck! She looked at Fip, who was asleep in his bottle. She didn’t know what she could safely feed him. His little tummy rose and fell as he snored away. He looked plump enough to get by without food today. She’d have to talk it over with the others and decide what to feed him tomorrow.
The next day at recess, Lerner, Bobby, and the other SLUGs were gathered around the oak tree. The day was crisp, the sky bright blue. The green oak leaves above them shimmered as if the sun were choosing that very moment to paint them gold.
Lerner passed around the Gurkengabel article and everyone read it with interest. “I thought I made up the word. I didn’t think it was real,” Lerner said. “And look what happened? This is why I’m not sure we should delete the MPOOE Club.”
At that moment, Sharmaine, the MPOOE, ran over. Her face was flushed and she could hardly talk she was so out of breath. “I decided . . . I don’t want to be in the MPOOE Club.” She took off her MPOOE wristband and handed it to Lerner.
Lerner held it in her hand and everybody stared at it.
“She’s just trying to get in so she can spy on us to the MPOOEs,” Julio said.
Sharmaine looked around. “I am not.”
“She thinks the MPOOE Club is more trouble than it’s worth,” Lerner blurted out. “Possibly the worst club on earth.”
“How did you know that?” Sharmaine asked.
Lerner reddened. “I sort of read it in your journal.”
“Well, you’re coming over to our side just in time,” Winny said. “We’re about to delete the MPOOE Club!”
“We haven’t agreed on that yet!” Lerner said.
Of course, Sharmaine had no idea what they were talking about. Lerner filled her in on Fip’s magic. Then she turned to the group. “We don’t need to delete the MPOOE Club. If Sharmaine is here, that means the club is breaking up on its own.”
“You’re wrong!” Sharmaine said. “I think the club is just going to get worse. Reba is going to kill me for switching sides.”
Lerner could feel the pressure building. She remembered what her parents had said about resisting peer pressure, but they meant the kind of pressure that made you do bad things. If they really could get rid of the MPOOE Club that would be a good thing. Although she didn’t admit this to herself, she wanted to show off a little, too. She knew how exciting it was to experience Fip’s magic and knew that if she let the group in on that excitement, they would never forget it—or her.
“Okay,” Lerner said. They had a few minutes before recess was over. Lerner opened her notebook and wrote:
The MPOOE Club
She set Fip down, and everybody watched in silence. Lerner wondered if they were as nervous as she was.
Fip was ecstatic. Finally some food! He realized that there were lots of eyeballs watching him, but he didn’t care. He gobbled.
“Did it work?” Sharmaine whispered.
Lerner scanned the crowd on the playground. It was hard to tell just by looking. Reba and Randy and the others were up on the basketball court. They didn’t look any different.
“Check it out!” Bobby said. “Sharmaine’s wristband was right there. Lerner set it down when she opened her notebook. Now it’s gone.”
Everybody looked at the trampled grass beneath their feet.
“They’re coming!” Sharmaine whispered.
Lerner put Fip back in his bottle. Reba and Randy walked over.
“What’s going on?” Randy asked, in an astonishingly innocent voice.
The SLUGs looked at Lerner.
“Are you guys starting some kind of club?” Reba asked, as if it were a completely novel idea.
“It’s not really a club,” Lerner said. “We were just talking about . . .
about improving the school.”
“Like how?” Reba asked. “And what’s he doing here?” She nodded at Bobby.
“He’s a part of it,” Lerner said.
Reba made a face. “So what are you planning?”
“We can’t trust you!” Julio blurted it out.
For five minutes, everybody argued. Some of the SLUGs didn’t want former MPOOEs in the group. Lerner didn’t like the idea of having Reba and Randy know about Fip. But how would they decide who to exclude and who to include? While she was thinking about that, somebody suggested coming up with a new name for the new club.
“No. No. No,” Lerner said. “No club. No name. No stupid initiations to get in. Whoever wants to be on the side of good can join in.”
“What is this—some kind of Robin Hood thing?” Randy asked.
“I’m in,” Reba said.
“She doesn’t want to be on the side of good,” Winny complained. “She just wants to be in.”
“I’m in, too,” said Randy.
Some of the SLUGs started grumbling again. The whole thing was going to fall apart if Lerner didn’t do something.
“All right. Everybody hold up your right hands,” Lerner yelled. To her surprise, everyone complied.
“Repeat after me: I promise to keep this a secret.”
They all chanted after her. A little tingle went through Lerner. She was pulling everybody together. No more MPOOEs. No more SLUGs. Exhilarated, she continued: “I promise not to force dares. I promise not to put people down. I promise not to get other people in trouble or boss people around.” Lerner watched Reba repeat the pledge. Reba was a pain when she was queen of the MPOOEs, but now she was just another kid. Lerner would be the new leader, a wise and good leader.
More former MPOOEs noticed them and came to join. They had to do the oath again. Then, Lerner told the newcomers about Fip. She described how powerful and unpredictable the magic was—Bobby passed around the Gurkengabel article—and when it came time to decide what their next step would be, she faltered. The news about Gurkengabels was disturbing. They had to be extra careful what they fed him.