Remember Dippy

by Shirley Reva Vernick

  Finally I said, “Okay, Leesha, you can go talk to Mem. But here’s the deal: we’re only doing this if he agrees, and we’re only using one of his ferrets. Just one. Okay?”

  With that, Leesha jumped up and hugged me, right there in front of everyone. She threw her chubby arms around my neck and brushed her cheek against my cheek. Then she jumped back. “Be right back,” she said and ran down to the den for Mem.

  While we waited, the guys and I took turns playing Snood on Mo’s laptop. Everyone in his family has one because his dad sells computers and gets great deals on them. Mo is so lucky. One time when we were camping at Burr Pond, he brought his laptop and we watched The Thing from the Lake on DVD three times in a row. As for me, I’ll probably be out of college before I can afford a computer of my own.

  “You really think this’ll work?” Reed asked, lazing on Mo’s unmade bed.

  “You don’t?” I said.

  “I don’t know. It’s a pretty wacky idea.”

  I couldn’t disagree.

  “Hey, maybe Niko’ll give you a reward if it works,” Mo schemed.

  “I’m not doing it for a reward. I’m doing it to be a friend.”

  “Since when is Niko your friend?” he asked.

  “Can’t a guy do something nice without everyone making a federal case out of it?” But even as I defended myself, I was getting edgy all over again. Maybe Mo and Reed were right. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe we shouldn’t be butting into Niko’s business in the first place.

  “He said yes!” mouthed Leesha, who was suddenly standing at the door, her arm linked through Mem’s.

  “Is it true, Mem?” I asked.

  “Is it true?” he said, looking at Leesha, then his feet—everywhere but at me. “Is it true? I guess so,” he said quietly, sounding resigned.

  “Hey Mem,” I said, “this is your choice. If you want to think it over, go ahead. Or if you want to say no right now, that’s okay too. Don’t let us decide for you.”

  “Can it be Linguini?” he gushed. “Jambalaya, she gets scared.”

  “Sure, whatever you want,” I said. “Are you sure?”

  “Nope. Are you sure?”

  “Nope,” I said. “But it’s not my decision. It’s yours.”

  Mem didn’t speak for a solid minute. Finally he said, “Can it be Linguini?”

  Chapter 11

  We all ran back home for Linguini, her travel case, and some flashlights. By the time we carried everything downtown, Niko was just putting the “Sorry, come again” sign in the door. He closes early on Sundays, which was a good thing; this wasn’t something you’d want to do with a shop full of customers.

  When we told Niko our plan, the first thing he did was laugh—a glum, quiet kind of laugh. “Is crazy,” he said. “Will never work—the vents are too old and twisted.”

  “But—” Leesha started.

  “She is cute little rat,” he said. “I don’t want you should lose her for nothing.”

  That really got Mem going. He started rocking on his feet and wringing his hands and “oh no”-ing, until Leesha put her arm around him and whispered something in his ear. Then she turned to Niko and glowered, “Linguini isn’t a rat. She’s a million times smarter.”

  “Look, you kids are nice to want to help me. I am sorry I talk mean to your animal, your ferret, but you are wasting your time.”

  “It’s our time to waste if we want to,” Leesha pointed out. “Just let us try.”

  Niko must’ve been too tired—or too desperate—to argue any longer. “Okay, all right,” he shrugged. “But listen, all of you. There are vent openings all over the place. Once you send your creature down, she could pop back up anywhere, or nowhere. Be careful you catch her when she comes out…if she comes out. Now excuse me while I empty trash.”

  This was probably supposed to scare us into changing our minds. It worked on me, and probably on Mem too, but Leesha was already taking Linguini out of the crate. “Okay,” she said as Niko walked away, “let’s start her down the kitchen vent. Then everyone will need to find an opening and shine a light at it. Come on.” She was so sure of herself, we just nodded and followed behind her.

  “Mem, you can be the one to launch her, okay?” I said when we got to the kitchen.

  “Yup.”

  We all stood around the vent, and I lifted the grating off, but Mem didn’t move. His fingers were frozen around Linguini’s little belly.

  “It’s time, buddy,” I said, but he only clutched her closer.

  Finally Leesha stepped up. She stroked Linguini with one hand and leaned on Mem’s shoulder with the other. “Don’t you get it?” she told him. “This is gonna be fun for Linguini. She’s gonna get to run around a really cool maze and go on a treasure hunt. It’s a ferret’s dream come true.”

  “What if she doesn’t come back?” Mem asked.

  “Of course she’ll come back—she’s got you to come back to. And as a little insurance, I threw her squeaky toy into her carryall before we left your house. She’ll come running when she hears it.”

  “Well…” he said uncertainly.

  “Do you want me to send her down?” Leesha asked.

  Relief washed over Mem’s face. “Yup,” he said, handing Linguini over. “You do it. You do it for me.”

  Leesha scooped up the critter and knelt down by the vent. “You’re gonna have lots of stories to tell your sister when you get home, you are. Now it’s time to play,” she said, sending Linguini whiskers-first into the abyss. “Bye, little guy.”

  “Little girl,” Mem corrected her. He stuck his face into the hole in the floor, trying to catch a glimpse of his friend, but Linguini was already out of sight. We could hear her scampering beneath our feet though, and that was reassuring, especially when I told myself it was the sound of playful exploring, not panicked reeling.

  “Okay,” Leesha said, “everybody find a post.”

  Mem and I decided to stay there in the kitchen. Leesha guarded the vent near the front door, Mo took the one near the jukebox, and Reed took the bathroom. I got a little worried when I couldn’t hear Linguini’s footsteps anymore, but then Reed yelled, “Over here.”

  It dragged on like that for a long time, with us calling to each other whenever we caught the sound of her. I don’t know whether Linguini was lost or just having a ball, but she ran in circles around those air tunnels for what seemed like hours. It got harder and harder to sit around and wait. Finally I told Mem to get the toy shark out of the crate. “I think she’s been down there long enough, don’t you?”

  “Yup.” His eyes looked tired from staring down the hole.

  When Mem handed me the toy, I called out, “All right, everyone. Keep your eyes peeled.” I held up the smiling bug-eyed shark and squeezed it a bunch of times.

  “C’mon, Linguini,” Mem urged, squatting next to the vent. “C’mon, baby.” We didn’t hear anything, so after a while I pressed the toy even harder. “Right here, Linguini,” Mem said over and over in an almost whisper. He looked so miserable, his face all pinched up and red, I wished I’d never listened to Leesha and her bright ideas.

  At last, I heard skittering along the pipes. The sound started out faint, then grew louder and still louder, but then it weakened, fading until it disappeared altogether. A full five minutes of silence passed. I couldn’t understand, and I tried to convince myself that I still heard Linguini, if only barely. But I didn’t. Mem’s shallow breathing was the only sound in the room. I squeezed the shark till my fist ached.

  “Mem,” I began, knowing I owed him an explanation, or at least some comfort. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, hoping the right words would eke their way out of my throat. “Mem—”

  “There!” Mem interrupted. “Th-there!”

  As I opened my eyes, Mem was diving toward the vent and Leesha was running in yelling, “Catch her!” When Mem stood back up, he was clasping Linguini—who had something between her teeth. Something more dirty than sparkly, but definitely s
omething.

  “Baby!” Mem squealed, not seeming to notice the object hanging out of her mouth. “Baby baby baaaaaaby.”

  “It’s the ring!” Leesha cried. “Niko, your ring!”

  Niko, Mo and Reed dashed in. I coaxed the ring out of Linguini’s mouth and handed it to Niko, who stared and stared, like he wasn’t sure this was really happening. Then his eyes got a little teary. “Grazie, grazie infinite,” he said in a shaking voice. “Thank you, everyone. You save Niko.”

  “Linguini save Niko,” Mem glowed.

  “That is true,” Niko said, scratching Linguini’s chin affectionately. “Hey, how about pizza for the house? Niko’s treat.”

  “Linguini loves pizza,” Mem said.

  “What is her favorite topping?”

  “Chocolate!” Mem and I said in unison.

  Niko laughed. “That I cannot do. But I will make something gustoso.”

  “Shouldn’t you put your ring somewhere safe first?” Leesha suggested.

  “Si. I have special secret spot. Now go, go get drinks.”

  We all raided the soda ’fridge and crowded around our favorite table with Linguini happily wrapped around Mem’s neck like a fur collar. Niko, meanwhile, outdid himself in the kitchen. He came out with three enormous pies, one topped with mushrooms and onions, another with sausages and fried eggplant, and the third piled high with extra cheese and pepperoni. “This is special pepperoni,” he said, cutting the pizzas with his wheel-blade. “From special butcher in Boston. You enjoy—manga.”

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” Leesha asked. “There’s plenty, that’s for sure.”

  “Sorry, I have phone call to make,” he grinned and hurried back to the kitchen. It was great to see him back to his old jolly self.

  Two oversized slices and a Mountain Dew later, I was bursting. Linguini must’ve been stuffed too, based on how many crusts we fed her. Boy, what a day. If Aunt Collette was having half as much excitement with TJ over in Lake Swanton, she was having a killer time. Thinking about Aunt Collette, I checked the wall clock and realized she was due home soon. “We better split,” I said. “It’s getting late.”

  “Let’s take a slice home for Jambalaya,” Mem said.

  “Good idea,” said Leesha. She picked a piece of each kind and stacked them on a bed of napkins.

  We waved good-bye to Niko, who was still on the phone with Carmelita, and rolled ourselves out the door. Mo and Reed headed left down the sidewalk, while Mem, Leesha and I went right. Our bellies were too full to walk fast, so we took our time going home, Mem holding Linguini tightly to his chest, and Leesha putting the pizza inside the crate for easy carrying.

  “We really managed the system that time,” Leesha said as we strolled along. “The it’ll-cost-you-twenty-thousand-dollars-to-get-your-ten-thousand-dollar-ring-back system.”

  “I’ve gotta tell you,” I said, “I wasn’t sure it was gonna work.”

  “I was,” said Leesha. “I knew she’d find the ring. How about you, Mem?”

  Mem nuzzled Linguini. “I knew she’d find the ring all right, but I was afraid she might not come back.”

  “Wouldn’t come back? But she loves you. Animals always come back if they love you.”

  That made Mem smile. “I bet Jambalaya’s worried.”

  “Not for long,” I said. We were on our street now.

  “Anyway,” Leesha went on, “I sure hope Carmelita says yes when Niko finally pops the question. Who is she anyway?”

  I was trying to remember if Niko had told me anything about her, but suddenly someone was racing up behind us on a bike. I jumped out of the way—knocking into Mem—just in time to see Dirk the Jerk swerving and pedaling off. There was no time to say anything to him though, because Linguini freaked at the commotion. She clawed her way out of Mem’s arms and tore down his pant leg, then sprinted across the next-door neighbor’s yard and on into the bushes.

  Mem froze in his tracks, like the day he decided his sneakers didn’t fit. “No!” he screamed. “No! No no no no!”

  Leesha and I darted after Linguini, but it was getting too dark to see. I pulled the squeaky shark out of my pocket and started squeezing like crazy, but no Linguini. Leesha took a piece of pizza out of the carryall and waved it like a lure, but no Linguini. Mem moaned and rocked and flailed his hands, but no Linguini. We searched and called and squeaked and waved our flashlights for an hour, but still no Linguini.

  “She’s not coming back, is she?” Mem choked. “Is she? Is she? Is she? IS SHE?” I hoped he was asking Leesha, but he wasn’t. He was talking to me.

  “She’s just scared right now,” I said. “Let’s go home and start looking again first thing in the morning. She’ll be fine out here overnight.”

  “Nooooo!” he stamped his feet. “I want Linguini! She’s my ferret and I want her!” He stopped hollering and started huffing and puffing, like he’d just sprinted a mile.

  “Mem, she’s going to be fine,” I repeated. “It’s summer, it’s a warm night, and she’ll be fine.”

  He obviously didn’t believe me, but he let Leesha take his arm and lead him in the direction of home. He must have been exhausted, or else he’d still be throwing a fit.

  “Who was that fool, anyway?” she asked as we rounded the driveway.

  “Dirk Dempster. He lives right over there,” I said, pointing to his house.

  “He should be out here helping us look,” Leesha grumbled.

  “No way,” I said. “I don’t want anything to do with that moron.”

  “All right. Well, I better go,” she said. “Mem, call me tomorrow, and we’ll look around.”

  “Look around what?” he asked.

  “Look around for Linguini. Okay?”

  “Yup,” he said gloomily.

  “See you later,” I said and retrieved the carryall from her. The driveway felt long and lonely as we walked up it. “Hey Mem,” I said, “let’s not tell your mom the bad news about Linguini yet.”

  He grabbed my arm. “Bad news? You said she’s gonna be fine overnight. You said we’ll find her tomorrow. You said, you said she’s fine.”

  “Mem, relax. She is fine. What I mean is, let’s not tell your mom that Linguini is outside, that’s all. She might get a little worried, just like you’re a little worried. Why upset her? We’ll get Linguini back, and your mom won’t even have to know.” At least, I hoped we’d get our little hero back. “Do you understand?”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Mem, come on. Do you understand?”

  “Yup,” he said, not very convincingly.

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “Well, will you trust me that this is the best way?”

  He stared at me blankly for a minute. “I trust you, Johnny,” he finally said. “I trust you.”

  “Good. Now let’s get inside.”

  We beat Aunt Collette back. When she did show up, she was all bubbly and happy—another successful date with TJ. I was relieved and a little surprised that Mem didn’t spill the bad news about Linguini—it was hard even for me not to blurt it out. But there didn’t seem to be any point in ruining her evening. We’d ruin it tomorrow if we had to.

  I lay awake in bed for a long time that night, hating Dirk, feeling sorry for Mem, and worrying about Linguini out there in the big black night. For the first time all summer, I actually heard Jambalaya cry, and I think I heard Mem crying too.

  Chapter 12

  The minute Aunt Collette left for the store the next morning, Mem and I, armed with binoculars and the squeaky shark, hit the street. Fortunately, Aunt Collette was on the early shift and had to be out of the house before eight. I really didn’t want to tell her we’d lost—let’s face it, I’d lost—her ferret. With any luck—no, with a truckload of luck—we’d have Linguini back in her cage before Aunt Collette got home, and she’d never have to know.

  Luck evaded us. Linguini wasn’t anywhere—or if she was, she wasn’t interested in letting us know
. We paraded up and down the street a hundred times, poking around people’s shrubs and gardens, and then we did the same thing on the next street and the one after that. Mem kept getting distracted by anything that caught his eye: a water sprinkler, a squirrel, a spider web, a bird feeder. Maybe that was a good thing—it kept him from panicking over Linguini—but it also slowed us down, like when he got engrossed by a mob of ants swarming around a dropped lollipop. After a couple of fruitless hours, I sent Mem home to watch Martin the Meteorologist and got on my bike to cruise the farther streets. I even rode down to Niko’s to see if Linguini had gone back there for more pizza. Dumb, I know, but I was desperate.

  When I returned to the house, empty-handed and tired, I found Mem and Leesha sitting on the living room floor playing blackjack while The Weather Channel droned in the background. “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

  “Sorry for what?” Mem asked cheerfully.

  “For not finding Linguini.”

  His face fell.

  “Maybe she’ll come back on her own,” I said, dropping onto the sofa. “When she gets hungry. And misses us.”

  “Miss us?” he said. “But we’re right here.”

  “No, I mean, when she gets homesick.”

  Mem’s eyebrows crumpled together. “She’s going to get home sick? Why’s she going to be sick when she gets home?”

  “No, I—oh never mind.”

  Leesha picked up the phone by her side and handed it to me. “Mo wants you to call.”

  “Hey, maybe he found Linguini,” Mem perked up.

  “No, he doesn’t even know she’s lost,” Leesha reminded him.

  I dialed Mo’s number and told him about Linguini. He offered to help us search but asked if we wanted to go for a dip at the lake first. Goofing off while Linguini was still MIA didn’t seem like the right thing to do…although it sure was getting hot out. Then I had an idea. “Hold on, Mo. Leesha, do ferrets like water?”

  “Don’t know,” she said, shuffling the deck of cards. “But my brother’s ferret once jumped into a bubble bath and didn’t mind it.”

  “Okay, Mo,” I said. “Meet us at the lake, and we’ll scout around for Linguini there. Will it be…just you?”