Dump Trucks and Dogsleds: I'm on My Way, Mom!

by Henry Winkler

  I worked my way out from under her arm and looked around the bed. Then I looked around the room.

  “So where is he?” I asked.

  “They just took him to the nursery to give me a little break,” my mom said.

  Wow. This guy had only been on the planet for five minutes and already she needed a break. Imagine what it’s going to be like having him live in my room?

  I hope this doesn’t make me seem selfish, but suddenly, out of nowhere, came a hunger pang in my stomach so bad, I thought I was going to faint. I needed a candy bar, and I needed it fast.

  “Hey, Mom, how about if I come back in a few minutes when the baby returns?” I said. “I feel like checking out the hall.”

  “Sure, honey,” my mom said. “Just don’t make any noise, because the babies are sleeping and new moms need their rest, too.”

  As I flew out of there, I reached into my jeans pocket. Oh, please let there be enough money for a candy bar. I pulled out a handful of change and tried to count it. It was either eighty-six cents or sixty-eight cents. I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me. My only choice was to find a candy machine, pump all the coins in, and see what came out.

  “Excuse me,” I said to a passing nurse. “Can you tell me where I might find a candy machine?”

  “Sure, dear,” she said. “Just go past the nursery and turn left.”

  Oh great. Not only could I not figure out how much money I had, I couldn’t figure out the direction I needed to go in either. A double whammy, right there in the hospital hallway.

  As I was heading down the hall, trying to figure out which way was right and which way was left, my eye caught the name Zipzer in a reflection from the hall window. I walked up to the window, and looked in. The window was a little high, and I had to stand on my tiptoes to see what was going on inside.

  Wow, was I surprised. There were about ten babies, all wrapped up in pink or blue blankets, like Cabbage Patch dolls. They were in these plastic bins that looked like something Mr. Kim puts fruit in at his corner market. Each one had a sign with his or her name on it and that day’s date. The third blue blanket from the end said: ZIPZER.

  I stood on the very tips of my toes to look over the Zipzer sign, and here’s what I saw: the pinkest, little face with the tiniest, little eyebrows you’ve ever seen. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be pretty mellow.

  Wow, that was Harry. I didn’t want to make him feel bad, so let’s just keep this between you and me. Harry could really have used some hair. He looked like a ping-pong ball with peach fuzz.

  Suddenly, his eyes opened and he seemed to be checking out the room.

  Wait a minute, he’s not looking at the room. He’s looking over my way. I’m pretty sure he’s looking at me.

  I started to wave.

  Hey, Harry. Over here. It’s Hank. We both have a first name that starts with an H.

  Then his little mouth opened and his nose scrunched up like a bunny rabbit’s.

  What’s that about, Harry? You don’t want to make that face in front of too many people. I mean, you’re cute and all, but don’t push it.

  Then his face turned beat red and his mouth opened even wider.

  Uh-oh. He’s crying. What’s wrong, little buddy?

  “Excuse me,” I called out into the hall. “My brother is crying. Can somebody see what the problem is? Maybe he needs to burp.”

  No one answered, which made all kinds of sense because I was alone in the hallway.

  Oh look. He’s turning his head to check out his neighbor. His nametag said: BINH RILEY. There’s a kid in my class named Binh. His parents are from Vietnam. Maybe this kid has relatives there, too.

  Oh wow. Binh is looking at Harry.

  I stood in the hall, wondering if babies can communicate with each other. What would they say?

  Binh: Yo, Harry. Could you pipe down? I’m trying to nap here.

  Harry: Sorry, dude. I have an itch on my nose like you can’t believe. Could you lean over and scratch it.

  Binh: I would love to, but they have my arms tucked so tight in this blanket, I feel like the mummy from The Curse of the Pyramids.

  Harry: Are you hungry, or is it just me? I hear all you get is milk in this place. I could go for a cheeseburger.

  Binh: Yeah, my stomach is starting to growl. So where are you from, anyway?

  Harry: I’m not sure. But I heard them say I have a sister and a brother.

  Binh: A brother? That’s cool. I’ve only got a sister and a kitten.

  Harry: Yeah, I can’t wait to meet my brother. I hear he’s so cool.

  Suddenly, I knocked on the nursery window.

  “Hey, Harry, here I am,” I said out loud. This time I was really glad the hallway was empty. “You really want to meet me? You really think I’m cool? That’s great because I got a lot of fun things planned for us.”

  I felt a hand gently touch my shoulder. It was Papa Pete.

  “Who are you talking to, Hank?”

  “Harry,” I said to him. “He’s a pretty outgoing little guy. He’s already made a new friend.”

  Papa Pete raised his eyebrows and smiled.

  “So you and Harry are getting along okay?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, but I think I kind of like him.”

  “So you’re getting used to the idea of sharing your room with him?”

  “As a matter of fact, I can’t wait for him to come home. And I’ve decided that someday, I might even let him wear my Mets sweatshirt.”

  Before Papa Pete could answer, a nurse came in and walked right up to Harry’s little, plastic bed. She unlocked the wheels and mouthed to us that she was taking him back to my mom.

  I could have sworn I saw Harry turn to Binh and say, “See you in preschool, buddy.”

  As the nurse wheeled Harry down the hall, I skipped along right behind her, happily following my new little brother to my mom’s room where the whole family was waiting to meet him.

  About the Authors

  HENRY WINKLER is an actor, producer, director, coauthor, public speaker, husband, father, brother, uncle, and godfather. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife, Stacey. They have three children named Jed, Zoe, and Max, and three dogs named Monty, Charlotte, and Linus. He is so proud of the Hank Zipzer series that he could scream—which he does sometimes, in his backyard!

  If you gave him two words to describe how he feels about the Hank Zipzer series, he would say: “I am thrilled that Lin Oliver is my partner and we write all these books together.” Yes, you’re right, that was sixteen words. But, hey! He’s got learning challenges.

  LIN OLIVER is a writer and producer of movies, books, and television series for children and families. She has created over one hundred episodes of television, four movies, and over twelve books. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Alan. They have three sons named Theo, Ollie, and Cole, and a very adorable but badly behaved puppy named Dexter.

  If you gave her two words to describe this book, she would say “funny and compassionate.” If you asked her what “compassionate” meant, she would say “full of kindness.” She would not make you look it up in the dictionary.