Everybody Is Somebody

by Henry Winkler

  “Me too,” I whispered. She gave me a fist bump.

  “From now on, call me Paula,” she said. And then she winked at me.

  “The second- and third-grade classes are waiting for us in the library,” Principal Love said. “Children, let’s show Ms. Hart the way.”

  He turned and led us into school and down the main hall to the library. We passed the bulletin board with my sister’s face plastered right in the middle of it. The hall was quiet, and we could hear Principal Love’s Velcro sneakers squeaking across the floor.

  “It sounds like he’s got a live mouse in his shoes,” Paula whispered to us.

  We covered our mouths so we didn’t laugh too loud. Principal Love glanced over his shoulder with a look that said, “Behave yourselves.” That look even wiped the smile off Paula Hart’s face. When we reached the library, the Queen of Wipe-That-Smile-Off-Your-Face, Ms. Adolf, was waiting in the doorway.

  “I’m glad you’re finally here,” Ms. Adolf said. “I’ve had a hard time keeping the children sitting still on the rug.”

  “That’s okay,” Paula said. “They can squirm a little. I don’t mind.”

  “I’m kind of squirmy myself,” I piped up.

  “It’s not something to brag about, Henry,” Ms. Adolf said.

  Mr. Rock came right over to Paula and gave her a hug and a smile. They looked like they were good friends, and I could see why. They were both really cool people.

  We went inside the library. Mrs. King was standing at the front, with a huge smile on her face. She’s a person who loves books, and anything that has to do with them. Paula waved and all the second- and third-graders cheered. I took a bow and everyone laughed, including Paula, Mrs. King, and Mr. Rock.

  “Who’s introducing me?” Paula asked.

  “I will,” I answered. I spun around and checked with Frankie and Ashley. “If it’s okay with you guys, that is.”

  “Go ahead, Hank,” Ashley said. “You’ll do a great job.”

  Paula flashed me a big smile.

  “Take it away, Hank,” she said.

  I stood on my tiptoes in front of the microphone.

  “Today we are lucky to have a famous author with us. She writes great books for kids, and I just found out that she’s also really funny. Let’s give a warm PS 87 welcome to Paula Hart.”

  Everyone clapped. Frankie, Ashley, and I sat down in the front row. Paula started her speech, which wasn’t really a speech. She talked to us like we were just hanging around having a pizza together. She didn’t even use notes. She read us an exciting chapter from Journey to Jupiter.

  Afterward, Frankie and Ashley asked for questions. Heather Payne put up her hand.

  “What made you want to become a writer?” she asked.

  “I always knew deep down that I wanted to be a writer,” Paula said. “I loved to daydream about exciting adventures. Other kids thought I was weird. But a very smart teacher told me to pay attention to the voice inside that made me special, no matter what other people thought.”

  Everyone listened carefully except Nick McKelty. He just let out another one of his rhino snorts and shouted, “Zipzer should know all about that. He’s weird.”

  My face turned red, and I wanted to disappear. Thank goodness for Paula Hart.

  “Maybe Hank will be a writer when he grows up,” she said, smiling at me. “He’s certainly original enough.”

  My face turned red again, but this time, I was blushing because I was proud.

  “Before we take more questions,” Paula said, “I want you to hear something very important. You all have greatness in you. You don’t know what you can accomplish until you try. Now, who’s got another question?”

  Of course, Nick McKelty’s hand shot up.

  “My question is for Hank Zipzer,” he said.

  “He’s a very interesting person,” said Paula. “I have a lot of questions for him myself. Hank, come on up here and share the stage with me.”

  I took my place next to her. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

  “My favorite part of Journey to Jupiter was Chapter Five,” McKelty began. “I want to know what Zipzer thought about that chapter, when James surprised Sarah with his plan.”

  I realized what McKelty was up to. He knew I have trouble reading and hadn’t finished the book. He was just trying to trick me and embarrass me again. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

  “Actually, Nick, I have to disagree with you,” I said. “I think Chapter Six was much more exciting. Especially the way it ended.”

  Take that, Nick McKelty, I thought to myself. I was happy to see him shut his slobbery mouth and put his beefy hand down. But I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

  Paula Hart broke into a big smile.

  “That’s amazing, Hank,” she said. “Because Chapter Six is my favorite, too. Tell me, what part did you think was most exciting?”

  Oh no!

  I could feel every eyeball in the library looking at me, waiting for me to answer. The kids. Ms. Adolf. Mr. Rock. Principal Love. Frankie and Ashley. And most of all, Paula Hart.

  My heart felt like it was falling out of my chest and down to my feet.

  I took a deep breath. I opened my mouth. And the only thing that came out was a gulp.

  CHAPTER 8

  It felt like I stood there for at least two weeks, with a big spotlight shining right on me. In the background, I could hear Ms. Adolf saying, “Henry, we’re waiting, and we don’t have all day. Answer the question.”

  I looked over at Frankie and Ashley in the front row, hoping they could send me brain waves filled with details of Chapter Six. But there was nothing they could do. My whole body had turned ice cold, which is what happens to me when I’m really scared.

  Think, Hank. Think of something. Anything.

  I figured I had several choices. I could bolt out of the room and run all the way to Peru and ride llamas for the rest of my life. I could admit in front of everyone that I hadn’t even finished the first chapter of Journey to Jupiter.

  Ouch.

  Or I could go for it.

  And since I’m a go-for-it kind of guy, I went for it. I knew nothing about Chapter Six, or Seven, or Eight for that matter, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

  “What I love about Chapter Six,” I began, “is that it is in between Chapter Five and Chapter Seven.”

  Everyone in the audience laughed, especially Paula Hart.

  “Oh, Hank,” she said. “Everything you say is so original.”

  That gave me the confidence to go on. I could feel my body warming up and my tongue starting to move.

  “I thought the most exciting part was when James and Sarah entered the Cave of Doom and saw that the ground looked alive,” I began. “And it was because thousands of space insects covered every inch of the cave floor. They had poisonous stingers, and if one of them bit you, you would grow hair out of your eyes.”

  I looked over at Paula, and she didn’t say a word, so I went on.

  “When a whole colony of the space insects crawled up James’s leg, Sarah went into battle, swatting them off with her thick glove. They tried to eat their way into her space suit until she attacked them with the laser beam that shot out of the top of her helmet.”

  Paula got a big smile on her face, and I thought I was home free. My imagination had personality, and it had saved me again.

  Then I heard McKelty’s voice.

  “What book did you read?” he hollered. “There aren’t any space insects in Journey to Jupiter.”

  “No, there aren’t,” answered Paula, “but there sure should have been. What Hank just described was much more exciting than my Chapter Six.”

  “It was?” I said. My ears couldn’t believe what they were hearing. “Should I go on?”

  Before
I knew it, Ms. Adolf was standing next to me, wedged in between Paula and me. She was so close, I could smell her grayness.

  “On behalf of PS 87,” she said, “I would like to apologize for Mr. Zipzer’s disrespectful behavior. Clearly, he made up this silly story. He has no business filling the room with such nonsense.”

  “With all respect, Ms. Adolf, I have to disagree with you,” Paula said. “True, Hank didn’t tell the story I wrote, but he told his own story. I admire his creativity. Creativity is a gift, don’t you think, Mr. Rock?”

  “It certainly is,” Mr. Rock answered. “As a music teacher, it’s what I look for most in my students. You can’t make any kind of art without letting your imagination loose.”

  Ms. Adolf’s gray face turned beet red, like she was a balloon about to pop.

  “All this talk about creativity and imagination,” she grumbled. “This is school, not playtime.”

  Then she turned and stared at me like she could see right through me.

  “Young man, you did not do what you were asked to do,” she said. “You did not take your assignment seriously. Imagination is not always enough.”

  “Actually,” Paula said, “imagination is everything when you are a writer. I see a future writer in Hank. That boy tells an exciting story, don’t you think, kids?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “I really liked those space bugs,” said Luke Whitman from the back of the room.

  “And I liked that Sarah saved James,” Heather Payne said. “It’s cool when a girl gets to save a boy.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what happens next,” Ryan Shimozato said.

  “Yeah, Hank, tell us more,” Katie Sperling shouted out.

  “Hank, do you know what happens next?” Paula asked me.

  “No, but I can make it up,” I answered.

  “That’s what writers do,” she said. “The world is waiting to hear your stories, Hank Zipzer. Never forget that.”

  All the kids in the library started to clap. Frankie and Ashley led a cheer that said, “Go, Hank Zipzer! Go, Hank Zipzer!” Mr. Rock gave me a thumbs-up. The only two sour faces in the room were Ms. Adolf’s and Nick McKelty’s.

  But I didn’t care even a little bit. Suddenly, my head was swimming with stories. I felt like a writer, and trust me, that felt very cool.

  CHAPTER 9

  A MILLION STORIES THAT POPPED RIGHT INTO MY HEAD

  BY HANK ZIPZER

  The Pickle That Ran for President . . . and Kept on Running

  How the Raisin Lost Its Wrinkles

  Oscar: the Amazing Octopus Who Juggled Couch Pillows

  I’d tell you even more stories, but my brain doesn’t have any more room because it’s thinking that it needs a tuna sandwich . . . no tomatoes, of course.

  CHAPTER 10

  After the assembly, all the kids gathered around me, asking about what happens next in my story.

  “Where do all the space bugs go?” Katie asked.

  “Do Sarah and James blast them into outer space with their laser beams?” Ryan asked.

  “I bet their blood is green and slimy, like snot,” Luke Whitman said.

  I have to admit, it was fun to be in the spotlight. I hadn’t gotten so much attention since I threw up cake frosting at my four-year-old birthday party. Boy, that was messy. One minute, no one was looking at me. The next, everybody was running at me with paper towels.

  I lowered my voice and told all the kids to lean in close. I didn’t expect them to get that close.

  “Hey, guys, give the man some breathing room,” Frankie said.

  “Yes,” Ashley added. “Hank’s creativity needs space.”

  “Okay,” I began, “here’s what happens next. The space bugs start to vibrate and make a high sound like a screeching siren. Then a rock turtle, found only on Jupiter, falls from the ceiling of the cave. This kind of turtle has no shell, just dry, cracked skin.”

  “Eeuuw,” said Katie Sperling. “That’s gross.”

  “You haven’t heard anything yet,” I said. “The space bugs sting the turtle, and hair sprouts from its skin and eyeballs. It looks like it has a shell of hair.”

  “A hair shell,” said Luke Whitman. “That’s cool.”

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Ms. Adolf stomping over to us. I knew I had to wrap up the story fast.

  “So then, the space bugs swarm underneath the turtle and lift it off the ground. They carry it deep into the darkness of the cave, and it was never seen again.”

  Unfortunately, Ms. Adolf heard that last part of my story. Let’s just say she wasn’t a fan of hairy turtles.

  “Henry,” she said sternly. “Principal Love is waiting for you in front of the WELCOME, PAULA HART sign. Now follow me, and stop wasting time.”

  “Come on, Zip,” Frankie said. “This is when we get our picture with Paula Hart.”

  He didn’t have to say that twice. I was super ready.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said to all the kids. “I’ll tell you more later.”

  Frankie, Ashley, and I hurried down the hall after Ms. Adolf. Principal Love was standing in front of the colorful welcome sign, chatting with Paula and holding his camera.

  “Hey, kids,” Paula said. “Was that assembly fun, or what?”

  “The most fun ever,” I answered, and I meant it.

  “Let’s get on with the picture,” Principal Love said. “Ms. Hart has a plane to catch. She’s visiting another school in Seattle.”

  “Lucky kids,” Ashley said.

  “Ms. Hart, you stand in the middle, and kids, you gather around her,” Principal Love suggested. As I took my place next to Paula, I started to smell something bad, like someone had burped up a rotten banana. It didn’t seem like a burp that Paula Hart would make. It was more like a Nick the Tick burp.

  Oh no!

  I turned around and there he was, in all his stinky rotten banana-ness.

  “I thought I’d come and add some good looks to this picture,” McKelty said. As the words came out of his mouth, so did his hot breath all over my neck.

  “You’re not invited, Nick,” Frankie said.

  “Please step to the side, Nicholas,” Ms. Adolf snapped.

  “Fine with me,” McKelty answered. “I don’t want to be in a picture with Zipperbutt, anyway. His face is going to break the camera.”

  That did it for me. I had been feeling so good from the assembly, and I wasn’t about to let this turkey ruin my moment, my day, or my year.

  “You know what I think, McKelty?” I said. “I think you’re mean right down to your toes. You must know what it feels like to be called names. I don’t understand why you call me names every single day. All I know is it stops here and now.”

  “Way to stand up for yourself,” Paula Hart whispered, giving me a fist bump.

  “I’m going to call you anything I want,” McKelty said, putting his nose in my face. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Here’s what I can do about it,” Principal Love said. “I’m going to put you in detention for a week with Ms. Adolf. She’ll teach you how to control your mouth. Won’t you, Ms. Adolf?”

  “Oh, you can count on it,” she snarled. “Come with me, Nicholas. I have many wastebaskets for you to empty. And that’s just the beginning.”

  As Ms. Adolf guided McKelty back to her classroom, Nick the Tick shot me a look that said, “I’m tough.” But I shot a look right back that said, “I’m tougher.”

  We took about ten pictures with Paula. The first few were regular. Then Paula suggested that we all make a scared face. Then a surprised face. Then a funny face. Then a goofy face. Then it was time for her to go.

  Just before she left, she hugged each of us. When it was time for my hug, she whispered in my ear.

  “I believe
in you, Hank,” she said.

  Then she swooped off, her giraffe dress and pink boots disappearing down the hall.

  I knew I would never forget her.

  CHAPTER 11

  The whole next week seemed like it took forever to happen. I had actual dreams about standing in front of the bulletin board, watching my picture get put up. In my dreams, I was six feet tall and sitting on a white horse. The horse and I both took a bow as the entire school cheered my name. One of the best parts of the dream was when Ms. Adolf presented me with a bouquet of flowers.

  On the actual day, I’m sorry to say there was no white horse involved, and no flowers, either. But I did wear the brand-new red sneakers that my grandpa, Papa Pete, bought me just for my special day.

  Principal Love arranged for us all to meet after school. Ashley came with her mom and dad, Dr. and Dr. Wong. Frankie came with his mother and father and his big brother, Otis. They were all wearing T-shirts that said GO, FRANKIE. My mom and dad were wearing the green buttons that say I’M A PROUD PS 87 PARENT. Usually they wear those for Emily’s events, but this time, the buttons were for me. That was pretty cool.

  Our group included the whole Zipzer family: Mom, Dad, Papa Pete, and Emily, who came with her iguana, Katherine. As always, Katherine was wrapped around Emily’s neck like a short green scarf.

  “Who invited the lizard?” I asked when I spotted Katherine.

  “Katherine’s feelings would be hurt if I left her home,” Emily said. “Katherine is very sensitive.”

  “How do you think Cheerio feels,” I asked, “being in the apartment all by himself? Poor guy. I wish he was here.”

  Papa Pete cleared his throat a couple of times to get my attention.

  “Look at this, Hankie,” he whispered. He slowly unzipped his red sweatshirt just enough for me to see a cute little wet nose poking out from his chest.