by Sarah Weeks
“I was finally going to get a chance to dive into Donnica’s pool,” Oggie explained sadly, “but now that I can’t go to the party, it’s probably never going to happen.”
“Why can’t you go to the party?” Amy asked. “You were invited, weren’t you? And you sure seemed excited about it yesterday when you found out about Bumbles.”
“I know. But there’s no way I’m going to be able to get ready by myself.”
“I don’t get it,” said Amy. “Why do you need help getting ready for a pool party? All you have to do is put on your bathing suit and walk across the street.”
“Actually, I can’t wear my bathing suit,” said Oggie. “It’s red. Rule Number Four is no red bathing suits allowed.”
“What?” said Amy.
“There’s a whole list of rules. A hundred and one of them. And I just found out that I have to have them all memorized by Saturday or Donnica says I can’t come to the party.”
Amy was beginning to get the picture. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d actually been pretty surprised to hear that Oggie had been invited to Donnica’s party. It was clear from the way Donnica acted that she didn’t like Oggie. So why invite him to the party? Amy was sure there was something fishy going on.
“Where is this list of rules?” she asked.
Oggie pulled Donnica’s B.P.R.’s out of his back pocket and handed it across the table to Amy. As Amy began to read, her cheeks turned very pink. She saw right through Donnica’s little plan. Obviously Donnica didn’t really want Oggie at her party. Tricking him into thinking he had to follow all these rules was just plain mean.
“I can’t believe this,” Amy said.
“I know,” said Oggie. “There’s no way I’ll ever be able to memorize them all by Saturday.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Amy.
And suddenly Donnica Perfecto wasn’t the only one with a plan.
After lunch, Oggie felt a lot better. Amy had promised she would figure out a way to help him get ready for the party. Mr. Snolinovsky collected the homework from the day before. But instead of putting the haiku in his red folder, where he put the rest of the work to be checked, he asked everybody to fold the poems in half and come up one at a time to place each one in a special box he had brought in and placed on the corner of his desk. The box was covered with colorful paper — a background of blue sky decorated with rainbows.
Oggie carefully folded his poem in half, and when it was his turn, he went up and slipped it into the box. Amy came after him, but before she returned to her seat she stopped to admire the pictures on the box.
“I love rainbows,” she said.
“Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain,” Mr. Snolinovsky replied.
“Pardon?” said Amy politely.
“It’s a trick to help you remember the order of the colors in the rainbow,” said Mr. Snolinovsky. “I learned it back when I was in grade school and never forgot it. Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.”
“Cool!” said Amy enthusiastically — not because she had learned a new way to remember the colors in the rainbow, but because it had just given her a great idea for how to help Oggie.
* * *
During Silent Reading that afternoon, Oggie searched through the book he’d taken out of the library the day before, in hopes of finding the name of the person who had invented the cherry picker. He didn’t find what he was looking for, but during his search he did discover that an American dentist named Edward Angle was the person most people considered responsible for having invented braces. He would have to remember to tell Amy.
As Oggie closed his book and was about to put it away in his desk, Amy happened to walk by. She was on her way to sharpen her pencil in the electric sharpener Mr. Snolinovsky kept on the windowsill, but as she passed Oggie’s desk she slowed down and slipped him a note. Oggie unfolded the little triangle of paper and read:
CAN YOU COME OVER THIS AFTERNOON AFTER SCHOOL?
The only plans Oggie had for after school were to do his homework and take Turk for a walk.
“So, can you come?” Amy asked Oggie later as they were walking down the hall together after the last bell.
“Sure, I can. But I have to walk Turk first,” Oggie said.
“You can bring him with you, if you want. I’ll put Jitters in the laundry room. That way Turk won’t try to eat her like last time.”
Jitters was Amy’s cat, and she made Turk’s mouth water the same way Oggie’s did when he thought about piggies-in-a-blanket.
“Speaking of eating, should I have a snack before I come over to your house?” Oggie asked. He crossed his fingers and hoped like crazy that Amy would say no. Unlike Oggie’s mother, who insisted that Oggie have a healthy snack after school every day — something like raisins or carrot sticks — Amy’s mother was not as strict. Oggie was particularly fond of her root beer floats.
“My mom said something about making brownies this afternoon,” Amy told Oggie. “And there’s always plenty of vanilla ice cream in the freezer if we want to have root beer floats.”
Prrrrr-ip! Prrrrr-ip! Oggie (and his sweet tooth) were very happy to hear this news.
“I’ll see you in about a half hour, then,” said Oggie.
“Okay,” said Amy. “Oh, and make sure you bring that list of rules with you when you come.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me even though you’re not invited to the party?” asked Oggie.
“You don’t understand,” said Amy. “Nothing in the world would give me more pleasure than knowing that you’re going to be showing up on Donnica’s doorstep on Saturday with all of her silly rules memorized. I’m just sorry I won’t be there to see the look on her face.”
“I could take a picture,” Oggie offered.
* * *
Oggie and Amy parted ways and Oggie walked the rest of the way home by himself. He looked for the two Georges, but they must have been working on telephone wires in another neighborhood that day. He would have liked to watch them use the cherry picker again.
Mrs. Cooder was in the kitchen, washing lettuce at the sink when Oggie walked in the door.
“Would you like a snack, Ogg?” she called to him. “I could make you some ants on a log.”
Ants on a log = celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins on top. Very healthy.
“No, thanks!” Oggie called back. “I’m going to walk Turk over to Amy’s house in a minute. Her mom’s making brownies.”
“Come here a second first, will you?” said Oggie’s mother. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Oggie sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to try to talk him into eating ants on a log instead of brownies.
Turk, who had been waiting eagerly at the door for Oggie as usual, was prancing around with his leash in his mouth. The Swiss Warbler was still stuck in his throat, but it must have shifted a little because in addition to tweeting and chirping, he could now twitter.
“Just a minute, Turkey Boy,” Oggie told him.
Mrs. Cooder put the last of the lettuce in the salad spinner and turned off the water.
“How was school today?” she asked.
“Fine,” said Oggie. “I didn’t spill my chocolate milk at lunch.”
“Did Mr. Snolinovsky like your haiku?”
“Oh, he didn’t read it yet. We had to put them all in this box and we’re going to do something special with them tomorrow.”
“That’s nice.” Mrs. Cooder walked over to the fridge and dried her hands on the striped dish towel that was hanging from the door handle. “You know, Donnica’s birthday party is the day after tomorrow. Some cute little vintage purses came into the store today. Maybe she’d like something like that.”
“I don’t think I should pick out a present for her until I know for sure whether I’m going to be able to go to the party,” said Oggie.
“Why wouldn’t you be able to go to the party?�
�� asked Mrs. Cooder.
Oggie pulled the list of rules out of his back pocket and held it out to his mother. But before she could reach for it, Turk jumped up and snatched the papers away, running out of the room with the list clamped tightly between his sharp teeth.
“Turk! Come back here!” cried Oggie, running after him.
The phone rang and Mrs. Cooder went to answer it while Oggie chased Turk around the couch, diving over the cushions in an attempt to retrieve the papers.
“Excuse me?” said Oggie’s mother into the phone. “You’ll have to repeat that. I’m afraid we have a bad connection. Who did you say was calling?”
While his mother talked on the phone, Oggie continued to chase Turk, finally managing to corner him and remove the list from his mouth. It was still in one piece, though a bit soggy in places. Turk wriggled free and ran off to find his leash, returning a minute later to drop it at Oggie’s feet.
When Oggie made no move to leave, Turk, who was not used to having to wait so long for his afternoon walk, threw back his head and began to howl in frustration. Because of the Swiss Warbler in his throat, the howls came out sounding like Kweeeeeeeee-urk! Kweeeeeeeee-urk!
“Hey,” cried Oggie, “you sound just like a yellow-bellied sapsucker!”
Turk Kweeeeeeee-urk-ed again, but then Mrs. Cooder put her hand over the phone and called from the kitchen, “Take him outside, will you please, Ogg? I can’t hear a thing over all that racket.”
So Oggie stuck the list of B.P.R.’s back in his pocket, and he and Turk headed off to Amy’s house … where Oggie hoped a plate of warm brownies would be waiting.
Turk was so happy to finally be outside that he took off on a tear, pulling Oggie along behind him like a caboose on a runaway train. As they flew past the entrance to Walnut Acres, Oggie suddenly remembered that he had promised to ask his mom if there were any checked pants left at the store in Dylan’s brother’s size. Oggie shook his head. Why was it so hard for him to remember things? He sure hoped that Amy was going to be able to help him memorize the B.P.R.’s.
Amy was waiting for Oggie on the front steps when he got there.
“Come here, Turkey Burger,” she called, patting her knees with her hands. Turk ran up the steps and began licking her face with his big wet tongue. Amy wrinkled her nose. “Somebody around here could really use a breath mint.”
“Who, me?” asked Oggie, cupping a hand over his mouth and sniffing.
Amy giggled.
“I was talking about Turk. Come on in. Jitters is already in the laundry room, so the coast is clear.”
Amy’s house smelled delicious.
“Hello, Oggie.” Mrs. Schneider poked her head around the corner and waved. “Would you like a warm brownie?”
“Does my uncle Vern have eleven toes?” Oggie cried happily.
Mrs. Schneider looked alarmed.
“That’s just Oggie’s way of saying yes,” Amy explained. She knew all about Oggie and his uncle Vern’s extra toe.
“So did you bring the list?” Amy asked once they’d settled in on the couch in the den with a plate of brownies between them and two big root beer floats with red bendy straws sticking out of the creamy foam.
Oggie pulled the list out of his pocket and, careful to keep it out of Turk’s reach this time, handed it to Amy.
“I think I should warn you,” Oggie said, “my memory has been worse than ever lately. Do you think it could have anything to do with all those marshmallows I ate the last time we were in Ohio? Uncle Vern was trying to break his record for how many marshmallows he could throw into another person’s mouth without missing.”
“How many did you eat?” asked Amy.
“Fifty-three. Fifty-four if you count the cotton ball he threw in there by accident.”
Amy laughed and took a sip of her root beer float.
“Shall we get started?” she asked.
Oggie groaned and slapped his forehead.
“What’s the matter?” Amy asked.
“I just remembered I forgot to bring index cards so we could make flash cards for the rules like we always do with the spelling words.”
“I’ve got index cards,” said Amy.
“One hundred and one of them?” asked Oggie doubtfully.
“We won’t need nearly that many,” said Amy.
“How come? I have to memorize all the rules, you know.”
Amy smiled.
“Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain,” she said.
“Who’s Richard of York?” asked Oggie, confused. “Is he coming to Donnica’s party?”
“No. ‘Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain’ is a trick for how to remember the order of the colors in the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.”
“Neat-o,” said Oggie.
“Yeah,” said Amy. “And colors aren’t the only thing it works for either.” She studied the B.P.R.’s for a minute and then put down the list. “Putting Salad Under the Couch Is Very Messy and Dangerous,” she told Oggie.
“Is there really a rule that says you’re not allowed to put salad under the couch?” asked Oggie.
“No.” Amy laughed. “Each word in the sentence stands for one of the rules. See?” She got a sheet of paper and wrote the letters P, S, U, T, C, I, V, M, A, and D down the side. Then next to each letter she wrote one of the rules from Donnica’s list.
P — NO PRRRRR-IP-ING
S — NO CROCHETED SHOELACES
U — NO USED CLOTHES
T — NO TRIPPING OVER YOUR OWN FEET
C — NO CHARVING
I — NO TALKING ABOUT INVENTORS
V — NO UNCLE VERN STORIES
M — NO MADE-UP WORDS
A — NO ANIMAL IMITATIONS
D — NO DOGS
“Oh, I get it!” said Oggie. “This one sentence will help me remember” — he stopped and counted — “ten rules!”
“Now close your eyes and tell me what the sentence was,” Amy prompted.
Oggie closed his eyes and rattled it off without a bit of trouble.
“Putting salad under the couch is very messy and dangerous. Hey! I remembered!”
Soon enough, he and Amy were pleased to discover that with a little practice, Oggie was also able to remember all ten of the rules the sentence represented.
“I knew it would work!” Amy cried happily. “Now all we have to do is make up funny sentences to help you remember the rest of the rules.”
Which is exactly what they did.
* * *
That night Oggie went to sleep with a smile on his face. He and Amy had had a great time making up funny sentences to help him remember Donnica’s rules. His two favorites were “Some People Enjoy Hot Mustard Ice Cream For Lunch On Wednesdays” and “Fish Don’t Fly In Airplanes Unless They Lose Their Bicycles.” Of course, Oggie would still need to spend time going over what all of the letters in the sentences stood for, but things had gone so well with Amy, he was sure that by Saturday he would be ready. He was going to Donnica’s party!
* * *
On Friday morning, Oggie woke up in a great mood. He walked Turk, grabbed a couple of slices of cheese out of the fridge, and headed off to school. He looked for Amy as soon as he got to the schoolyard, eventually spotting her sitting on a swing, reading a book.
“Can you quiz me?” he asked. “I keep forgetting the NO ANIMAL IMITATIONS rule. I think it’s because I don’t really do animal imitations, I do birdcalls. At least I used to, before Turk swallowed my Swiss Warbler.”
Just then Donnica appeared at the edge of the yard, with Dawn and Hannah at her sides.
“I can’t wait to tell Donnica I’m going to be able to come to her party after all,” said Oggie. “Hey, Donnica! Guess what?”
But Amy tugged on Oggie’s sleeve to hold him back.
“Don’t you think it would be more fun if you surprised her?” she said.
“Prrrrr-ip! Prrrrr-ip! Good idea,” said Oggie.
But Donnica was not the on
ly one who was about to be surprised.
As soon as he walked into the classroom, Oggie noticed that the rainbow-covered box was no longer sitting on Mr. Snolinovsky’s desk. He also noticed that the bulletin board at the front of the room was completely covered with colored squares of paper that hadn’t been there the day before. When he went to have a closer look, Oggie discovered that each piece of paper had three lines typed on it. Haiku!
Oggie searched for his poem, finally locating it on a square of green paper, pinned to the upper right-hand corner of the board.
“There’s mine!” he cried happily.
“Don’t say another word, Oggie!” Mr. Snolinovsky called from his desk. “Come have a seat so I can explain what we’re going to be doing with the haiku.”
Once the class was seated and attendance had been taken, Mr. Snolinovsky told everybody that the reason the haiku had been typed up and put on the bulletin board was because they were going to play a game called Whose Haiku Are You?
“As you know, there are no names on the poems, and they have all been typed up so that nobody will be able to guess an author based on his or her penmanship.”
“How do you play the game?” asked America.
“You’ll have all day today to read the poems and think about who wrote them,” Mr. Snolinovsky explained. “This afternoon you’ll make your guesses.”
“What do we get if we win?” asked David Korben.
“Your reward will be the joy of knowing that you are a thoughtful reader, and that you know your classmates well,” Mr. Snolinovsky told him.
“Some prize,” grumbled David, who was used to being handed a shiny trophy for his efforts on the basketball court.
Throughout the day, Oggie went and stood in front of the bulletin board, studying the haiku. Some of them were easy to figure out:
Basketball is cool
Cooler than baseball or foot-
Ball or golf. The end.
Although Oggie didn’t think it sounded very haiku-ish the way the lines were all choppy and split up, he had to admit it did capture the essence of David Korben, who was clearly the author. Donnica’s, as promised, was all about how perfect she was: