“Oh,” I said, “cool.”
“You want to feed him?”
“Um…okay.”
She opened a closet.
“Grab that big bag of dog food. Careful, it’s heavy.”
I pulled the dog food out and Dog barked and ran over and sat in front of his bowl.
“Three scoops,” Tammy said, “and then put the food back.”
I gave Dog three scoops and put the food back, but the thing is, Dog just sat there and looked at me.
“He’s not eating,” I said.
“Ah, I forgot. He won’t eat until you let him kiss you.”
“Really?”
“Yup. So you better go over to him and let him kiss you.”
Mrs. C, Dog licked my face a bunch of times and it was gross because his breath stinks and he slobbers.
“You might want to wash up in the sink,” Tammy said.
“Okay.”
I washed up in the sink and heard Dog chomping his food, and once in a while he ate too fast and kind of snorted and then started eating again, and I thought maybe Tammy called me in for recess because she needed help feeding Dog, but then I turned around and saw Tammy sitting at a kid’s desk and then she asked me to sit down across from her, and even though it was kind of funny to see a teacher at a kid’s desk, I could tell this was like being called to the kitchen table.
“Hey, listen,” Tammy said, “I hear you’ve got a secret.”
I was super nervous now. I mean, I didn’t know which secret Tammy meant.
“I guess,” I said.
“You want to show me?”
I opened my flannel and showed her my “I’M A STREAK FREAK” button.
“That’s cute. Did you get it at the mall?”
“Yes. With Lou. I mean, Lou didn’t get one—”
“Don’t worry, Grape, you won’t get Lou in trouble.”
“Okay.”
“This streaking thing is crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Lou’s dad says it’s an epidemic.”
“Hmmm,” Tammy said, “I wouldn’t use that word. I think it’s a lot of fun.”
“Me, too.”
“But you have to stop wearing that button to school.”
“Okay.”
“I should probably confiscate it and send you to Kelly’s office, but I’m not going to.”
Mrs. C, I was super relieved.
“But you have to promise me to put it in your backpack now and never bring it to school again. Promise?”
“Okay.”
Dog chomped and snorted.
“Tammy?”
“Yes, Grape?”
“Dog’s a loud eater.”
“He most certainly is,” Tammy said, and then she laughed and her boobs moved up and down.
“And hey, Tammy?”
“Yes?”
“Why is it such a big deal to be naked outside?”
“That’s a great question, Grape, but you’ll have to talk to your parents about it.”
And then the bell rang and she got up from her chair and just as she was about to open the door to let the kids come in she kind of smiled and looked around like she was a spy.
“And hey, Grape?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you hear the song yet?”
“What song?”
Mrs. C, there was a streaking song!
It was called “The Streak,” and it was super funny because the main guy streaks at a market and in the street and at a basketball game, and there’s this other guy who keeps telling his wife Ethel not to look at the naked guy, but at the end Ethel ends up streaking, too, and Mrs. C, the song was always on the radio.
Well, that’s when the trouble started.
One day on the bus ride home it came on and everybody started to sing.
It was just like camp!
Everyone knew the words and Lou got up and danced, and the bus driver told Lou to sit down but the bus driver was laughing and singing the song, too, and then the Ethel part came on and the spiders starting spinning.
I stood up and took off my shirt and said, “Look at me, I’m Ethel! Look at my boobies!” and everyone was laughing super hard like at the Academy Awards!
Then someone said, “Look at Grape! Grape’s streaking!”
And the spiders went crazy.
“I’m gonna streak! I’m gonna streak!” I said, and I danced and screamed without my shirt on and then I got off the bus without my shirt on and all the kids followed me, and I ran up the hill, saying, “I’m gonna streak!”
So that’s what I did.
I streaked.
Just a little.
I ran inside the house and dropped my backpack, then I ran to Sigmund and got my “KEEP ON STREAKIN” T-shirt out of the shoebox and ran back inside and took off my shoes and pants and boxers, and then I put my shoes back on, and then I put my “KEEP ON STREAKIN” T-shirt on, then I ran super fast to the front yard and kind of danced and shook my seahorse up and down, and then I ran back inside and closed the door and locked it and put my boxers and pants on and peeked through the curtains.
Everyone was gone.
Even Lou.
That night my dad walked in and put his blueprints down and knocked on my door and told me to go to the kitchen table.
So I went to the kitchen table.
“Where’s Mom?” I said.
“In her room,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t want to see you!”
Mrs. C, he yelled at me in Spanish and he said estúpido a lot, and desnudo a lot, and he slammed his hand on the table, and did only one Let me put it this way.
“Let me put it this way, you are in the ground for two weeks!”
The light went on in my room early the next morning, and my mom told me I have ten minutes to get dressed and get in the car.
And the thing is, it was kind of weird because she was wearing sunglasses inside.
“But it’s Saturday,” I said.
My mom didn’t answer.
When we got to Doctor Vecchi’s office, my mom went in with me.
She was still wearing her sunglasses.
That was super weird.
But then it got weirder.
Doctor Vecchi had stubble on his face, and he had shorts and a T-shirt on and he was sipping coffee.
“Your mom tells me you did something pretty crazy,” he said.
“I guess.”
“Do you want to explain?”
So I explained.
Once in a while my mom said, “Is incredible! Why? Grape? Why?”
“Can you see how upset your mom is?”
“I said I was sorry.”
Doctor Vecchi leaned back and stretched and sipped his coffee.
“Am I going to get arrested?” I said.
“Arrested?”
“Like the guy in the Academy Awards.”
“No.”
I thought that would help my mom feel better, but she started crying.
“Angélica,” Doctor Vecchi said, “why don’t you leave us alone for a bit.”
Doctor Vecchi poured more coffee and sat down. I wanted to ask him why he didn’t have a vest on. He looked at me and drank coffee and for a while he didn’t say anything.
I asked if we could play dice baseball.
“No.”
“Doctor Vecchi?”
“Yes, Grape.”
“You look tired.”
“I am tired, Grape. It’s Saturday. And, to be honest, I’d rather be home.”
“Oh. Do you want to talk about it?”
He laughed.
“No,” he said, “I think I’ll be okay, Doctor Grape. But th
anks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He drank more coffee.
“Is that why you have shorts on?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Because it’s Saturday?”
“Yes. Saturday is tennis day, so after this I’m going to play tennis.”
“Oh.”
“But I’ll be late,” he said, and then he gulped down the rest of his coffee super fast and set the cup down.
I tried to hide in the chair.
“Well,” he said, “it looks like you got your fifteen minutes.”
I couldn’t believe it!
He explained.
“That’s why streaking is so popular, Grape. Most people are bored with their lives, so they just want to do something crazy, have some adventure. They run around without clothes on, get some attention, get on the news.”
“Do they have spiders?”
“Some, maybe, but most don’t.”
He poured more coffee. I couldn’t believe how much coffee he was drinking.
“Doctor Vecchi?”
“Yes, Grape.”
“Why is my mom so mad?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I don’t know. I guess she’s super embarrassed.”
“That’s for sure. What you did was very public, Grape.”
“Huh?”
“What I mean is, you get in trouble a lot but you don’t mean to, and most of the time it’s between you and the teacher, or you and the coach, but this time your mom gets a phone call from one of the neighbors, and pretty soon everyone in the neighborhood knows about you streaking, and everyone knows who your mom is, and your mom’s probably worried about what the other parents think, that they might think she’s a bad mom or your dad’s a bad dad for having a kid that streaks in front of the whole neighborhood.”
“I have a great mom and dad!”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s not fair! I mean, other streakers get on the news and they’re having fun and—”
“I know, but they’re not eleven years old.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Grape?”
“Yeah?”
“You need to tell your mom how sorry you are.”
“Okay. And I’ll throw away my collection.”
“What do you mean?”
I told him.
“That would be good. Just do it quietly. Your parents don’t need to know.”
“Okay.”
“Well, then.” He looked at his watch and stood up and kind of stretched his arms back over his head. “I’ll call your mom in and—”
“Doctor Vecchi?”
“Yes, Grape?”
“Why is it such a big deal to be naked outside?”
“That’s a good question.”
And then I told him about Yosemite, and he sat back down.
“I mean, they were just hanging around and their boobs and seahorses were out.”
“Their what?”
“Boobs and seahorses.”
“Oh, okay, go on.”
“And the thing is I really liked them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Doctor Vecchi just sat there kind of quiet. He didn’t even drink coffee. I thought maybe he was mad because of missing tennis, but then he said, “This might seem a little odd, Grape, but I want you to close your eyes and imagine being back at that lake.”
“Um…okay.”
“You’re with your mom and dad. You can feel the air and smell the smells.”
“Okay.”
“And you see the people again. Do you see them?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, now I want you to imagine it’s up to you what happens this time. You can have it happen any way you want.”
“Okay.”
“What would you do?”
“Well, I would take off all my clothes and swim across the lake.”
“Go on.”
“And when I got to the other side, one of the naked guys would say, Hey, little man, what’s up?
Hi. I’m Grape.
Cool, man. I’m Hank, and this is Mary and Josh and Nigel and that’s Wendy out there swimming.
Hi.
You look pretty cold, naked Mary would say. You want a towel or something?
Um…no. I like being naked.
Cool, man, naked Hank would say. You hungry? We have some sandwiches.
Okay.
Hey, Grape, naked Mary would say, who’s that across the lake yelling?
Oh, that’s my mom and dad.
What’s that they’re speaking, naked Hank would say, Spanish?
Yes.
Cool, man, naked Hank would say, handing me a sandwich. But they seem pretty upset. Do you know what they’re saying?
Kind of. They want me to go back.
Why?
Well, the thing is, you’re all naked and they think it’s weird.
Naked Mary and naked Hank would look at each other.
This sandwich is so good! I would say.
I’m glad you like it, naked Mary would say, but I think you should take one more bite and then swim back to your mom and dad.
Why? I like it here.
That’s great, little man, naked Hank would say, and when you’re all grown up you can come back here and hang out with us all you want, but you’re scaring your parents now, and that’s not cool.
But I don’t want to go back.
Why not? naked Mary would say.
Because in the future I’m going to get in trouble for taking money from a basket when I didn’t mean to and for calling a super mean coach a jerk-off jerk and for being in love with this girl Clair and singing, and for being naked outside my house.
Why were you naked outside your house? naked Mary would ask.
Because of this thing called streaking and this song about Ethel and this button and my fifteen minutes. And the thing is, I have spiders in my brain.
That sounds rough, little man, naked Hank would say.
That’s why I don’t want to go back, I would say. I want to stay here and be naked with you.
We’re not naked all the time, Grape, naked Hank would say.
You’re not?
No, man. We would get arrested.
Like the guy in the Academy Awards?
What’s the Academy Awards?
It’s this thing on TV when all the movie stars get dressed up and there’s Best Actor and Best Actress and lots of songs and jokes, and it’s really cool because Lou and his mom come over and my mom orders pizza, and we get to stay up late even though it’s on a Sunday, and this one time Lou and I—
Sounds like you have a cool mom, naked Mary would say. Sounds like she loves you a lot.
Yeah, she does.
And your dad?
He loves me, too, naked Mary.
Then you’re a lucky kid.
Thanks.
Now why don’t you swim back to your parents?”
“And would you swim back?” Doctor Vecchi said.
“Yes.”
And the thing is, Mrs. C, I couldn’t believe it.
Doctor Vecchi was crying.
THE TROUBLE WITH LOU
June 11, 1976
Mrs. C, it’s hard to know where to start with this one.
I could start with Lou, or with Lou’s mom and dad, or Elton John, or just Lou’s mom, or just Lou’s dad, or leaf racers, or the super orange golf ball.
I guess I’ll start with Elton John.
No, I think I better start with Lou’s mom and dad.
No, Lou. I’ll start with Lou.
The thing is, Lou changed.
Tammy said this is the time for a lot of changes. Girls will start getting boobs and all of us will start getting hair under our arms and in our ooh-la-la places.
“You will change on the outside,” she said, “but you will change even more on the inside.”
Mrs. C, she was right!
Lou was super different on the outside. He had to get braces. That wasn’t so bad because a lot of kids got braces, but at home he had to wear this big headgear thing with a wire across his mouth. He was also the first kid in class to get pimples. He got white pimples on his face and red pimples across his forehead and pimples on his shoulders and his back, and he even had a little mustache, and he wore his KISS hat all the time, and when he got mad he turned his KISS hat backwards, and he started to cuss and say dude all the time.
But like Tammy said, he changed on the inside, and that was worst of all.
Mrs. C, Lou got mean.
He was mean to his mom and mean to Tammy and mean to his mailbox, and he was mean when we played Monopoly and mean when we swam and mean when we went to the mall.
He was even mean when we played leaf racers.
Leaf racers is our rainy day game. We put our ponchos on, then we walk to the top of the hill and find two leaves, then we let them go in the gutter and follow them down all the way to the storm drain across from the park. The storm drain is this opening in the gutter, kind of like a mouth, and the tongue of that mouth is a grate with iron bars that sticks into the street. Whoever’s leaf gets swallowed first wins!
Mrs. C, it was super fun to watch the leaf get swallowed!
But Mean Lou had another idea.
“Dude,” he said, “I bet we could fit in there.”
“You mean in the storm drain?”
“Yeah.”
“Um…but that’s not what it’s for.”
Mean Lou looked at me.
“What are you, dude, a wussy?”
“No.”
“You look like one to me.”
“Okay,” I said, “but how about when it’s not raining?”
“All right. Fine. But you promised. When it dries up, we’re going in.”
“Okay.”
“I just didn’t know you’re such a wussy, dude.”
It rained for a few days, and I was relieved.
The thing is, Mean Lou had a good memory.
A few days later on the bus ride home, I asked if he wanted to play Monopoly.
“No, dude. Monopoly’s for wussies.”
Grape! Page 10