Sean Rosen Is Not for Sale

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Sean Rosen Is Not for Sale Page 15

by Jeff Baron


  But WHY??? You are super rich. You make fifty million dollars a year. Your company makes billions of dollars. Every year. Why do you have to steal ideas from thirteen-year-olds? I don’t expect you to give me billions of dollars. Whatever you pay me, you and your company will still have plenty left.

  Now I’m glad I haven’t told anyone my big idea. Because even though I’m good at keeping a secret, I don’t want anyone else, like my parents, to have Hank Hollywood, the shark who scares all the other sharks, coming after them.

  I Googled him again, but this time I went to images. He doesn’t look anything like the Hank Hollywood in my dream. That one was tall and had dark hair. The real one is short and a little strange looking. It’s weird. He looks exactly the same in every picture. It’s like there’s one look he puts on his face whenever he sees a camera. Or maybe he always has that look on his face, even when there’s no camera.

  While I was online, I decided to look up Ashley. She’s on Facebook. I already know what she looks like from our Skype meeting. I didn’t find anything else about her. There’s a picture of her at a party, but that’s about it. Maybe Stefanie is right that Ashley won’t be able to get my movie made.

  Stefanie isn’t on Facebook.

  Brianna changed her Relationship Status. She’s not “In a Relationship” anymore. I thought she might change it to “It’s Complicated,” but I don’t think it really is complicated. She’s “Single.”

  I wonder if Dan Welch should write to Hank Hollywood again. What would he say? “We know what you’re up to. It ain’t gonna work, Mr. Hollywood.” Dan Welch wouldn’t say “ain’t.” Collectibles Dan Welch would.

  What I’d really like to do is get Hank Hollywood to bid on A Week with Your Grandparents. It’s getting better and better with two bidders, so if there are three bidders, maybe I can get even more money and more net profit points, and an extra business-class ticket to Los Angeles, so both of my parents can come with me.

  I can’t stop seeing Baxter on the floor next to the water and the wire. I actually did think he was dead. When he moved, it was like the happiest second of my life.

  What if he did chew that extension cord while he was standing in the water? That could have happened. Dogs probably don’t know not to do that. Would he definitely die as soon as his teeth got to the bare wire? Maybe he would just get a really terrible shock, and he’d open his mouth and let go of the wire and not die.

  Maybe all that electricity going into your body would give you some kind of super power. Not like being able to fly or spin super-strong spider webs. Maybe something smaller. Like the power to read minds.

  But if your dog could suddenly read your mind, how would you know? He can’t talk. Hmmm.

  Okay, so a kid comes home after forgetting about the dog, and finds him lying near the puddle with the wire in it. The kid . . . let’s call him . . . Luke. Luke thinks his dog, whose name is . . . Mojo, is dead.

  But then Mojo gets up and starts walking around. Luke is relieved, of course, but he doesn’t know what to do next. Should he take Mojo to the vet? Luke’s parents are both out. They just got this dog after Luke begged them for years.

  He decides to call his friend Noah. He might know something. But Luke can’t find his backpack, where his phone is. He looks all over for it. Suddenly Mojo walks over, carrying the backpack in his mouth. Luke can’t believe it.

  “Good boy, Mojo. How did you know I was looking for that?”

  Luke starts to call Noah, but then he remembers that Mojo hasn’t been outside in a while. He turns and Mojo is standing at the front door, holding his leash in his mouth.

  “Mojo, did you just read my mind again?”

  Mojo just looks at Luke. He can’t talk.

  Luke takes Mojo outside. After Mojo is done, Luke decides to try an experiment. He sits across from Mojo. He doesn’t say anything. But what he’s thinking is, “Okay, Mojo, touch my right leg.”

  Mojo just sits there looking at Luke.

  “Oh. Of course. You’re a dog. You don’t know left and right. Okay.” (Luke points.) “This is my left leg, and this is my right. Left. Right. Got it? Good.”

  Luke stops talking and just starts thinking, “Mojo, touch my left leg. My left leg.”

  Mojo walks over, lifts up his paw, and touches Luke’s left leg.

  “Amazing! Good boy! Nice work.” He gives Mojo a treat.

  Then Luke looks at Mojo and thinks, “Mojo . . . show me where you sleep.”

  Mojo turns around and walks to the family room, where his doggie bed is.

  Luke calls Noah and tells him to come over. Luke wants to see if Mojo can hear all human thoughts or just Luke’s.

  Noah gets there, and he and Luke go into another room, so Mojo can’t hear. Luke tells Noah what’s going on. Then they get Mojo, and as an experiment, Noah thinks, “Mojo . . . take a drink of water.”

  Mojo walks to the kitchen and slurp, slurp, slurp.

  It’s incredible! A dog that can read human thoughts. At first, it’s just a game, but then Mojo’s new power leads him and Luke (and sometimes Noah) to all kinds of adventures. Luke’s parents don’t know. No one does except Luke and Noah.

  This could be a really cool TV show. It would be funny most of the time, but also scary and exciting sometimes.

  Luke and Noah discover that Mojo can only read human thoughts, not the thoughts of other dogs. This sometimes gets them into trouble.

  And since Mojo can’t talk, sometimes he knows things that he wants to tell Luke, but can’t figure out how. When that happens, Mojo has to get Luke’s attention, then have him ask yes-or-no questions, which Mojo answers by touching Luke’s left leg or his right leg.

  It would be fun if the audience can hear the human thoughts that Mojo hears. Then we know more than Luke does. So sometimes we and Mojo know that the boys are in danger, but they don’t know. We watch them figure it out by guessing and asking yes-and-no questions.

  So it’s sort of a comedy-adventure, with a little bit of a game thrown in. I like it.

  What should it be called?

  Luke and Mojo.

  No.

  I Know What You’re Thinking.

  Not bad. Wait. I have it.

  Electro-Pup.

  Thanks, Baxter.

  Chapter 37

  To: Hank Hollywood

  From: Dan Welch Management

  Dear Hank,

  We haven’t heard from you for a while. (We actually never heard from him, just his assistant and all his spies.) I wanted to say hello, and I thought you might want to be the first to know about the latest Sean Rosen project.

  It’s a comedy series about Luke, a 13-year-old boy who begs his parents for a dog. They finally get him one, an adorable pooch named Mojo. The first day home, Luke accidentally partially electrocutes Mojo. The dog survives, and now he can hear human thoughts, which only Luke and his friend Noah know about. Since Mojo can’t talk, Luke and Noah have to guess what Mojo is trying to tell them, using yes-or-no questions. The boys and the dog get into adventures and they also get into trouble. It’s called Electro-Pup.

  You’re the only one we’re showing this to, so if we don’t hear from you in a week, we’ll assume you’re not interested.

  Best,

  Dan

  I went to Buzz’s after school, and as usual, we played Wii baseball. Buzz always wins, and he always wins by a lot. I decided that today it was at least going to be close.

  Unfortunately, me deciding that didn’t really change anything. When it was 27-2, we decided to take a break.

  First we went to the Great Hall of Snacks. Whoever picks what’s in this giant freezer really knows what they’re doing. I had a pizza bagel, then a frozen Snickers. Delicious.

  Then we went outside and stood on the side of Buzz’s house. Buzz had a cigarette. I never saw him smoke before. No one said anything for a minute. Then he did.

  “So, uh . . . sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “You know . . .
Brianna.”

  “Oh. Don’t be sorry. Well, I mean not to me. I mean, I don’t know what you did. If you did anything. Actually, what are you sorry for?”

  “Oh. Her and I . . . you know . . . we’re not . . .”

  “Oh. I know. Don’t be sorry about that.”

  “You sure?”

  “Definitely. I actually never thought you two . . . anyway, that’s between you and her. I mean you’re my friend and she’s my friend, and . . . to tell you the truth, it’s easier for me this way.

  “Good.”

  “Good. Buzz . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “You look really stupid smoking.”

  “I do?”

  “Yeah. You look like you’re trying really hard to look cool. But actually . . . you don’t.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If my phone had video, I’d show you.”

  He put out the cigarette. I felt a little bad.

  “I thought you’d want me to tell you.”

  “I do. I guess. So . . . there’s this song.”

  “Yeah?” He didn’t say anything. “A song you wrote?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s like a . . . song about a girl.”

  “Oh. When did you write it?”

  “Like a few weeks ago.”

  “Oh. I’m afraid to ask you this . . . but is the girl’s name part of the song?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. And you like the song?”

  “Yeah. A lot.”

  I had to think about this. “Well, if Brianna hears the song, she’ll either want to get back together with you or she’ll want to kill you.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of. Both those things.”

  “In the song . . . does anything rhyme with her name?”

  Buzz sort of sang through the song in his head, but out loud a little. “No.”

  “Then just change the name.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “To what?”

  “Anything that has the same number of syllables and the same rhythm as Brianna. Like Maria . . . Diana . . . Melinda . . . Jordana . . . Chiara . . . Mikayla . . . Alyssa . . . Sophia . . .”

  “Stop. Sophia.”

  He sang through the song again in his head, but when he came to the name, I could hear him say “Sophia.”

  “It works.”

  “Good. When Brianna hears it, she might still want to get back together with you or else kill this girl Sophia, but . . .”

  “I know. But now I can at least sing the song.”

  Chapter 38

  We were at the table after dinner, looking at the list of what to pack for the seventh-grade trip to the wilderness.

  DAD: We can buy you a sleeping bag.

  ME: For one night? That’s a waste of money.

  MOM: How much does a sleeping bag cost?

  No one said anything. None of us can even guess, because none of us ever even thought about buying a sleeping bag.

  ME: Ethan’s got two.

  DAD: Let him have the big one.

  MOM: Was the other one his brother’s?

  ME: I don’t know.

  MOM: I’m glad you don’t care, Sean. Some people are funny about things like that.

  ME: He didn’t die in the sleeping bag. He might not have even used it. Ethan and his Uncle Neil are the only ones in his family who like camping.

  DAD: Is his uncle one of the chaperones?

  ME: No. He doesn’t live around here. I still can’t believe I’m doing this.

  MOM: It’s only one night.

  ME: Then why don’t you go and say you’re me.

  MOM: They won’t believe me. I’m not cranky enough.

  ME: Just don’t do anything fun this weekend. I mean anything I would think is fun.

  MOM: We’ll do our best not to have fun. At least packing will be easy. They gave you a list.

  ME: This list is confusing. They say to bring hiking shoes, but they also say not to bring new shoes. How many kids have old hiking shoes?

  DAD: I bet Ethan does.

  MOM: I bet Brianna doesn’t.

  ME: You know Brianna?

  MOM: Le Bistro last year. She was the Paris model. And I drove you to her mansion.

  ME: Right.

  MOM: Anyway, you can wear your running shoes.

  ME: You’re not mad at me for not being on the track team, are you?

  MOM: No.

  DAD: No.

  ME: Good. (looking at the list) If we’re only there for two days, why do they say to bring three pairs of underwear?

  DAD: In case a bear attacks you.

  MOM: Jack. . . .

  ME: Why would . . . Oh. Right.

  Saturday morning the alarm went off super early. It took me a minute to remember that the trip is today. Fortunately, I made myself pack last night.

  It actually wasn’t that hard. There are more things on that list that we can’t bring than things we have to bring. We’re not allowed to bring any electronic devices, except our phones, which the chaperones will be holding for us.

  Even cameras are not allowed. The year that got the seventh-grade trip cancelled for three years, some boys snuck over to the girls’ cabin and took some inappropriate pictures.

  I have one of the school cameras, so I can take pictures for the yearbook. They have it set up so I can’t send any of the pictures anywhere (just in case they’re inappropriate—they won’t be).

  The buses were in the school parking lot. Ethan was waiting for me with both sleeping bags. We’re assigned to the same bus. Before my phone was collected I got a text from Brianna.

  See you up there.

  I texted back.

  Which bus r u on?

  No bus. I get nauseous on buses. My dad is driving me up. You want a ride?

  With her dad? Is he a chaperone??

  No thanks.

  “I’ll take that.” I looked up. Mademoiselle Fou! She’s one of the chaperones. “Remind me, Gaston (that was my French name when I was still in her class). What’s your English name?”

  She knows. “Sean Rosen.” She wrote my name on an envelope and put my phone in it. She didn’t ask Ethan for his phone. She probably thinks he’s someone’s dad. She walked away.

  “If she sings at the campfire tonight, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”

  “Set yourself on fire?”

  “I’ll want to, but I probably won’t.”

  Ethan and I played cards for a little while, then I walked around the bus taking pictures of everyone. Mademoiselle Fou made me wait until she checked her makeup. It doesn’t matter. She’s not going to be in the layout.

  The bus driver is funny. I wish they let me bring my digital voice recorder. I would definitely interview him. He made some good faces in the pictures I took. He is going to be in the layout.

  Ethan brought a book with pictures of plants and insects and other things you might find in the woods. He really does like nature. The pictures are pretty. It made me a little excited to be there.

  As we got closer to the place, you could tell we were in the wilderness. Ethan showed me which trees are pine trees. And here we are. Pine Tree Wilderness Retreat.

  Chapter 39

  Thank goodness Ethan and I are in the same cabin, because if I walked into this cabin by myself, I would walk right out, find Mademoiselle Fou, get my phone back, text Brianna and beg her to ask her dad to drive me home.

  It’s like a log cabin with ten cots in it. That’s all. No sink. No bathroom. One light in the ceiling. Pine Tree Wilderness Prison. Help!

  Ethan said, “Don’t worry. By the time we get back here tonight, we’ll be so tired, we’ll fall right to sleep and it won’t matter where we are.”

  The bathroom is a separate building. You walk down a path to get to it. No wonder we had to bring a flashlight. I’m actually glad the bathrooms aren’t in these little cabins. It would be too embarrassing.
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  We put our sleeping bags on our cots, then everyone went to a big wooden building they call the mess hall for lunch, which was soup and sandwiches. I looked around the big room for Brianna. I didn’t see her.

  The mess hall (which is actually very neat) has a lot of tables. Looking around, I see that everyone is sitting almost exactly where they sit in the cafeteria, with the exact same kids. That includes Ethan and me, who are at a table by ourselves in the corner.

  It’s also as noisy as the school cafeteria, but it just got quieter. I turned around to see why. It’s Brianna. She’s walking across the mess hall wearing a pink . . . I don’t know what you call it . . . it’s almost like a spacesuit. She has pink shoes, too. She’s carrying a little black box. She sees me and waves. Now she’s sitting with her usual group of girls.

  She looks happy. I guess she really is over Buzz. I’m glad she hasn’t heard his new song, “Sophia.”

  I wonder which other teachers and parents are here. I look around the room and don’t see Brianna’s dad, but there’s Mr. Obester. There’s the assistant principal.

  “Hi Sean. Hi.” Brianna came over and sat down with us. I’m glad she finally said hello to Ethan, too. He might have nodded to her, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

  “You look very . . . pink.”

  “I know. I couldn’t resist.”

  “What is that box?”

  She opened it. “Oh, just a little bento box. We passed a sushi place on the way, and I brought it just in case.” She pointed to our sandwiches. “Good thing I did, right?”

  “How’s your cabin?”

  “My what?”

  “Your cabin. The girls are in cabins too, right?”

  “Oh. Probably. I’m staying at a cute little B&B.”

  “B&B?”

  “Bed and breakfast.”

  “Hi, Brianna.” It was Doug. He sat down next to Brianna. He didn’t say anything to Ethan or me.

  Brianna said, “Do I know you?”

  “Doug. From Taxadurmee.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You know. The band. Buzz.”

  Brianna got up. “I have to get back to my friends.” She left.

  Doug sat there for a second, then must have realized he was sitting a table with only Ethan and me, because he got up so fast his chair fell over. He didn’t pick it up.

 

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