In my heart, I knew Papa Pete was right. As much as I didn’t want to confess, it had to be done.
Frankie put his hand on my shoulder.
“Zip, mate, I wish there was a magic word I could say to make this better,” he said.
“There is a magic word,” said Papa Pete, “and it works every time. It’s called the truth.”
It was two blocks to Mr Gristediano’s apartment, and they seemed like the two longest blocks in the entire city. Now it was Papa Pete who was hurrying, because he was worried that someone would eat one of my Ds, which might then cause the Big D, that D being diarrhoea. I guess eating paper will do that to you, unless you happen to be a goat.
We tried running up Riverside Drive, but Cheerio was slowing us down again. He was stopping and sniffing every fire hydrant, tree and doorway along the street. At home, he’s happy just to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, but now, when we were in a hurry, he’d suddenly turned into Mr Curious.
“Come on, Cheerio, step on it,” I said.
“Actually, he’s checking to see where other dogs have marked their territory,” Robert said.
“Robert, let’s just say it like it is,” said Frankie. “He’s sniffing pee.”
I picked up Cheerio and tucked him under my arm. He squirmed and wanted to jump out of my grasp, but I gave him no choice in the matter. Papa Pete was in front, running fast. He’s pretty light on his feet for a guy who’s going to be sixty-eight on 26 June.
Here’s something I never realized before. Cheerio is heavy when you’re running. By the time we reached 451 Riverside Drive, my right arm had fallen asleep. So had Cheerio. I wondered how he could sleep with all that shaking and bouncing going on.
We stopped to catch our breath, which you could actually see coming out of our mouths in little puffs of steam. The building doorman was standing inside, watching us through the fancy glass panes in the door.
“Papa Pete,” I said. “Will you tell the doorman he’s got to let us in right away?”
“You can do it,” he said. “I’ll wait downstairs. There’s a nice sofa in the lobby.”
“You’re not coming?”
Papa Pete shook his head. “You know what you have to do,” he said. “This is your mission. Accomplish it.”
Papa Pete was right. I had got us into this mess and I had to get us out of it. I marched up to the door, pushed it open and tried to look very important.
“Sir,” I said to the doorman. “We’re from The Crunchy Pickle. We have to see Mr Gristediano on a matter of utmost importance.”
“Says who?” the doorman answered, looking me up and down suspiciously. He obviously wasn’t too impressed.
“Says all of us,” said Frankie, stepping up to my defence. “You know those platters of salami that were delivered a little while ago? We need to take them back immediately. They’re very dangerous.”
“I’ve never heard of a dangerous salami before,” the doorman said. “Except the one my brother-in-law Marvin ate once. Gave him so much wind he nearly blew himself up.”
He laughed really loudly.
“Actually, sir, those salamis are filled with pulp,” said Robert.
“Yeah,” he said, “so was my brother-in-law Marvin.” He laughed so hard that the gold buttons on his coat shook. “Hey, I’m just kidding with ya.”
“So can we go up now?” Ashley asked, bringing the conversation back around. Ashley’s good at getting down to business.
“I’ll call and let them know you’re coming.”
I looked over at Papa Pete on the sofa. He gave me a quick thumbs-up. The doorman rang the button marked 4B.
“Yeah, I got some kids down here from The Crunchy Pickle,” he said into the telephone. “They say they got to check on the cold cuts.”
He paused and nodded, then turned to us.
“They’re expecting you,” he said. “Fourth floor. Lift’s on your left.”
Before he let us pass, he pointed to Cheerio. “That mutt isn’t going to make a mess, is he?”
“Oh no, sir,” I whispered. “He’s taking his daily nap, which lasts until at least five this afternoon.”
The doorman raised one eyebrow.
“He requires a lot of rest,” I said as we made our way over to the lift. The lobby was so beautiful, it was a shame no one lived in it. Two sparkly crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. Along the wall to the lift, there was a mural of people picnicking and dancing in the woods. One of the dancing women was mostly naked, but we were in such a hurry, I didn’t even have time to check her out. The lift was waiting for us and I bolted for it. Ashley and Frankie were right behind me. I pushed 4 and then I noticed we were missing someone.
“Where’s Robert?” I said.
Frankie stuck his head out and looked for Robert. There he was, standing in front of the mural, staring at the mostly naked lady.
“Robert! Unpeel your eyeballs and get in here,” Frankie said.
Robert turned bright red. “Uh … I was just admiring the artwork,” he said.
“Right, and my name is Bernice,” Frankie answered.
“I just realized something,” Frankie said as we rode up. “I forgot my cape.”
“No problem,” I said, trying to stay calm. “We’ll use your coat.”
“No way, Zip. It’ll stink of salami and every dog in the neighbourhood will chase me around for months.”
“OK,” I said. “We’ll figure something else out.”
“That’s what I like. We’ll go with the flow.” Frankie rubbed his hands together and looked me right in the eye. “So what’s the plan, man?”
“First,” I said, “we’ll get to the fourth floor.”
“Yeah?”
“Then we’ll get out of the lift.”
“Yeah?”
“Then we’ll ring the doorbell.”
“Good thinking. And then?”
“And then…” I stopped and looked at Frankie. He was waiting with great expectation on his face.
“And then I don’t have the slightest idea,” I said.
The lift doors opened and we got out. There was only one flat on the whole floor. I had heard that in some fancy buildings in New York, the flats are so big that they take up the whole floor of the building. I think it would be cool to live in a place like that. You could skateboard or scooter or Rollerblade up and down the hall and not disturb anyone.
The door to Flat 4B was down at the end of the hall. I glanced at Frankie, Ashley and Robert. They were expecting me to be a leader. I wasn’t going to disappoint them. I shifted Cheerio in my arms and rang the bell, hoping they didn’t notice that my finger was shaking all the way to the buzzer.
A tall man in a blue suit answered the door. I don’t want to say he was the meanest man I’ve ever seen, but let’s just say he didn’t look happy to see us.
“You must be Mr Gristediano,” I said, trying to give him my biggest smile. “I’m Hank Zipzer. Happy to meet you, sir.”
I put my hand out in the basic handshake position. Papa Pete says you should always introduce yourself with a hearty handshake. It lets people know you’re sincere.
“Shhh,” the man said, putting his finger to his lips.
“Of course,” I whispered. “Mr Gristediano, this is very important.”
“Mr Gristediano’s over there,” the man in the blue suit said. “Can’t you see he’s conducting an important meeting?”
I stood on my tiptoes and got a peek into the living room. A group of seven or eight people, men and women in fancy suits, were sitting around on big purple sofas. The only man not wearing a tie was standing in front of a long table, on top of which sat my mum’s platters. He was holding a cracker with a slice of soy salami on it and he looked like he was about to put it in his mouth. I had to stop him!
“I have to get in there,” I blurted out.
Mr Blue Suit put his finger to his lips.
“You don’t understand,” I insisted. “I’ve got to
stop Mr Gristediano from eating that salami.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he whispered harshly.
“But that salami he’s about to eat, it’s got my school report in it. Also, a letter from my teacher and a manila envelope. A large manila envelope.”
Mr Blue Suit looked at me like I was a number one nutcase and started to close the door in my face. Suddenly, Cheerio woke up. I looked down at him, and he had a look on his face I had never seen before. I could have sworn he was smiling. His nose started to twitch, and his eyes locked on something in the living room.
I followed his gaze to see what had caught his attention. There, sitting in the middle of the rug, listening to Mr Gristediano, was the largest dog I have ever seen. I think it was a Great Dane. You could have stacked up thirty-five Cheerios and still not have reached its head.
In a split second, Cheerio had jumped out of my arms and had made a beeline for that mountain of a dog, which could have easily eaten him for a snack.
“Cheerio!” I yelled. “No!”
Mr Gristediano stopped talking and turned to look at us. I didn’t know what else to do. I waved. My friends were faster at thinking than I was.
Ashley pointed to Mr Blue Suit’s shoes.
“Sir,” she said, “your shoe’s untied.”
As he looked down, the four of us darted around him and ran inside. That Ashley, she has a great mind, even in a crisis.
Cheerio had reached the huge dog and was standing nose to nose with her. Cheerio sniffed her. The Great Dane sniffed back. Her sniff was so powerful that it was like a vacuum cleaner that almost lifted Cheerio’s front paws off the ground. Cheerio didn’t growl like he usually would have. In fact, it looked like was still smiling.
Could it be? Cheerio was falling in love!
Mr Gristediano stared at us. “Who are you, and what exactly do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. The other people in the room whispered to one another. I couldn’t make out their exact words, but I was pretty sure they weren’t saying how great it was that we’d popped in for a visit.
“Mr Gristediano,” I answered, “I can’t tell you how happy we are to be here. What a nice place you have.”
I had never seen such a fancy flat. Every space was filled with beautiful objects – African sculptures, china lamps, crystal candlesticks and even a pink marble chess set.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Mr Gristediano said. “WHO … ARE … YOU?”
“Here’s the truth, Mr Gristediano, sir,” I said. “It all started yesterday afternoon at about three-twenty or maybe it was three-twenty-five, when I came into my mum’s deli with my report…”
Before I had a chance to finish the sentence, I heard a sound coming from Cheerio’s throat. It was the weirdest sound he’d ever made, something between a purr and a howling love song.
“I don’t like the sound of that, Zip,” Frankie whispered. “Your dog’s going off the deep end.”
Frankie has known Cheerio since he was a puppy, and he knows that when Cheerio gets started on his spinning thing, there’s no stopping him.
Sure enough, Cheerio started to spin. Usually, he chases his tail because he’s upset or stressed. I’d never seen him spin happily. He started to spin around so fast that you couldn’t tell his head from his tail. I think he was doing it to impress the Great Dane. It worked, because before you knew it, Mr Gristediano’s dog got up and started to spin too. She followed Cheerio all around the living room – to the grand piano, around the potted plants, along the front of the fireplace – like two spinning tops completely out of control.
“Nina! Down, girl!” Mr Gristediano commanded.
“Hank,” said Ashley, “I think Cheerio has a crush on Nina.”
“He should pick on someone his own size,” said Frankie.
But it was too late for that. Cheerio and Nina were spinning around a mile a minute in what I guess was some kind of weird doggie love cha-cha. I’m telling you, those dogs were twirling all across the flat like two crazed ballerinas.
Now, when Cheerio spins, it can get pretty messy. He’s been known to get our rugs twisted up in a bunch or maybe knock over an occasional lamp. But a Great Dane spinning faster than the speed of sound is a whole other thing. Nina was like a tornado travelling across the floor.
“Stop it, Nina! Stop it now!” Mr Gristediano yelled.
He grabbed her collar. Nina escaped his reach and followed Cheerio, who had twirled himself under the coffee table. Nina tried to get under there too, but she couldn’t fit, so she spun around next to it. SWISH! Her tail whipped around and landed smack on the pink chess set. The pieces shot into the air like missiles, and all the well-dressed people sitting on the sofa scattered so they wouldn’t get hit by a flying bishop or a knight on horseback.
“What on earth is going on?” asked a woman with short black hair.
“Take cover!” shouted a chubby man with a bow tie. He crawled behind the sofa, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid getting smacked in the behind by a flying rook. Luckily, his behind was well padded, and the chess piece just bounced off and fell on to the carpet.
One of the pawns landed on Cheerio’s tail, and he let out a little yip. He bolted from under the coffee table and spun himself over towards the picture window that looked out at the Hudson River.
“Cheerio!” I yelled. “Come! Or if not come, then stop!”
Nina went galumphing after Cheerio, who was now dangerously close to one of the African sculptures. It was a sculpture of a man holding a baby up to the sky.
“Oh no,” Frankie said.
But oh yes. Nina’s tail thrashed into the wooden sculpture. The sculpture toppled, like a quarterback being tackled. It landed on the floor with a thud. A few of the guests gasped, but one man, who I recognized as the manager of our local Gristediano’s, actually chuckled a little.
“Clean up on aisle five,” he said, giving the woman next to him a nudge. The woman next to him didn’t even laugh a little.
Mr Blue Suit ran to the sculpture and tried to stand it up again.
“Here, let me help you,” I said.
“Stay away, whoever you are!” he yelled. “You’ve done all the damage you’re going to do!”
That’s what he thought.
By now, Cheerio and Nina were doing their dance across the centre of the room, taking down everything in their path. Bam went a vase with blue flowers all over it. Rip went the pillows on the fancy purple sofa. Smash went the carved crystal candlesticks. Bam! Pow! Crunch! went the three china ducks on the end table. Boy, if I had ever seen break-dancing, this was it.
Cheerio was having the time of his life. If he had cheeks and they weren’t furry, they would have been glowing. Nina was having quite a fun time herself. She didn’t seem to care that Mr Gristediano was shouting every command he knew.
“Stay! Lie Down! Sit! Come! Heel! Up! Down! Off!” he screamed.
Nothing was working. All the people in their business suits were crouched in the corners of the room and behind the sofa. Mr Gristediano was running after Nina, and I was running after Cheerio. Those two lovesick dogs couldn’t have cared less about us. They totally ignored us, spinning their way to the centre of the room near the table of my mum’s cold cuts. The vibrations made the platters rattle and shake. One of the platters had shifted to the edge of the table and was about to fall. I pushed it back and grabbed a slice of soy salami from it. I held it up.
“Here, Cheerio!” I said. “A treat!”
I thought if I got his attention, he’d stop spinning for a minute and then I could grab him. Instead, I got Nina’s attention, which was not my plan.
Nina jumped up to get the salami, and as she came down, her giant tail swept across the table, knocking all the platters into the air. There were trays of meat sailing around like Frisbees. Slices of soy salami flew everywhere, scattering like fireworks on Bonfire night. Nina was grabbing them out of the air. She got them before they even hit the ground, ate some
of them and gave a few to Cheerio, since jumping isn’t exactly his strong point.
I looked at some of the salami that had landed on the rug. I think I saw the word sloppy in one and the word fail in another. I know I saw Ms Adolf in another one – the words, not actually her.
Cheerio must have got one with a big chunk of something in it, because he was having a tough time chewing up his slice. I looked down at him. He held the salami between his front paws, trying like crazy to gnaw through a chunk of manila folder that was wadded up in it. He was so busy concentrating that he was standing still for the first time since he crashed the party.
“Let’s get him,” I said to the others.
Frankie, Ashley, Robert and I joined hands and made a tight circle. We crept up on him, and before he could say “arf”, we had him surrounded. I scooped him up and held him tight in my arms.
Poor Cheerio. Love was hard on him. He was exhausted. His little heart was racing and he was panting. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and it still had a piece of soy salami clinging to it. I lifted the salami out of his mouth so he wouldn’t choke on it. When I looked at it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There, lying in the salami for all to see, was my D in spelling.
That rotten mark was going to follow me wherever I went.
We’re friends, right? So you know me by now – at least a little bit. So you’ve probably figured out that when bad things happen to me, I make lists in my head.
That’s exactly what I did as I looked around the mess that used to be Mr Gristediano’s beautiful flat.
THE NEXT SIX THINGS I PREDICT WILL HAPPEN TO ME
BY HANK ZIPZER
(ALSO KNOWN AS “CAPTAIN DESTRUCTO”)
1. Mr Gristediano, who is really a genie in disguise, will grant me three wishes. For my first wish, I will wish that none of this ever happened, and it won’t have.
2. For my second wish, I will wish for front-row season tickets to the Mets’ games. I will get them.
The World's Greatest Underachiever and the Crunchy Pickle Disaster Page 7