by Paul Zindel
look weird, too. My mother looks like a matron of a concentration camp who usesanaxtoshearherownhair,andmyfatherbearsastrikingresemblanceto
Vincent van Gogh. They both waited until late in life to have me, and I think they mated by appointment. They do all human activity by appointment. Even Zelda says they are the most structured people she’s ever known, but I’ve learnedhowtoworkaroundthatbynow.Forinstance,IsuspectedIwasgoing
to need a lot of free time to be able to go over and see Miss Applebaum wheneverIfeltlikeit.Zelda’sparentsareunderstandingaboutcharitablehuman
wishes like that, but I had to go about matters slightly differently. It took me untilWednesdayatdinnerbeforeIcouldreallysetthingsup.
“Eatyourmoogoogaipan,”theFreudianOctopussaid,openingupapacket
ofsoysauce.
We have Chinese or Italian food delivered twenty or thirty times a month becausemymotherandfatherthinkcookinginhibitstheirprofessionallives.
“Didyouorderenoughmushuporkpancakes?”theCockaloonyBirdwanted
toknow.
“I ordered eight,” the Octopus said proudly, “so there’ll be two left over for lunch. Only four came with the order and each of the other pancakes was fifty cents.”Sheranherfingersthroughherbuzz-cuthairdo.
“How’syourmaththisterm?”Cockaloonywantedtoknow.
“Fine,”Isaid.
“Ithinkweshouldgetyouatutor.”Octopusmunched,squeezinghotmustard
alloverherfood.
“Idon’tneedatutor.”
“Oh, you say you don’t need a tutor, but when the college entrance exams comearound,you’llbegratefulweinsistedonextrapreparation,”Octopussaid.
“I’vesetupthefirstpartofyourafter-schoolschedule.Mondaysyouhavethe
Greektutor,Tuesdaysyouhavechess,WednesdaysyouhavetennisandLatin.
You know, Henry Maximilian, I signed you up to take a test for Columbia. If youpassit,you’llbeeligiblefortheirhighschoolacceleratedprogramforgifted students.”
“I’mnotgifted,Mom,”Imumbled,tryingtopulloutallthepiecesofshrimp
inmyeggrollthatlookedliketheywerelaunderedinHaiti.
OctopusandCockaloonydon’treallylistentome,soitdidn’tmatterwhatI
said.Theyjustkeptdiggingintotheirfrieddumplingsandtwistednoodles.
“Whatareyoureadingnow?”theOctopusaskedtheCockaloonyBirdwithout
really looking at him. Sometimes, my parents mechanically play husband and wife,andit’ssophonyIjustsitbackandlistenlikeI’mataplay.
“HellHouse.”
“Soundsinteresting.”
“Ican’tputitdown.”
“Youknow,IreallythinkthemoogoogaipanisbetteratMadameWu’s.”
“It’saboutascientistwhosechimpanzeesbecomesmarterthanhimthanksto
acomputer.Thebiogeneticimplicationsarecompletelycredible.”
“Ihaveanewpatientwhoisacomputeranalyst,”theOctopussaid,stabbinga
black mushroom with a fork. She looked like she was nibbling on a monkey’s ear.
“The author seems to really know his math, and the chimps are truly
haunting.”
“Mypatienthasnightmaresaboutbeingshredded.
Everynight,hewakesupscreamingthatmachineryisstalkinghim.Hislover
iscompletelydistraught.”
“Most of the plot revolves around an ape’s knowledge of calculus. The
pacing’smuchbetterthanin KissoftheCovenant.”
TheOctopusandCockaloonyBirdsometimestalklikethatforfifteenminutes
before they remember I’m still in the room. It was a mistake for them to have me, but I really don’t blame them for it. They both come from generations of
insensitive and cold families, so when Zelda recorded that I sometimes have trouble expressing my real feelings, I think she was right. No feelings are exhibited in my family. Everything is done by the numbers, including the expressionofmyparents’guilt.Zeldahelpedmeunderstandalongtimeagothat
myparentsfeelsoguiltyaboutnothavingtheabilitytoreallyloveme,thatthey sign me up for endless extracurricular activities to keep me out of the house. I was the youngest kid in my grammar school to be sent away to all-summer sleep-away camps. I’ve gone to camps that specialize in almost every subject.
I’ve gone to geology camps. My father even once found an advanced algebra camp.They’veneverknownwhattodowithmeafterschool,sothey’vesigned
me up for lessons in German, soccer, choir, piano, violin, squash, music appreciation, karate, pottery, horseback-riding, kite flying, and origami. They booked me so solid out of their guilt that I almost had twenty nervous breakdowns,butIcaughtontothembythetimeIwaseleven.AndonceIcaught
ontotheirproblem,Ifounditeasytoshort-circuitthem.Iusedtositbackand they’d book me solid so I didn’t have a spare minute during a schoolday or weekend.Now,Ijustbeatthemattheirowngame.
“Ateacherfromschoolisstartingaweekendseminarinscience,”Isaid.
TheOctopusstoppedchewingonafortunecookieandactuallylookedatme,
hereyesbulgingwithtrueinterestforasecond.
“That’swonderful!”shesaid.
“Terrific,”Cockaloonyagreed,slipping HellHouse ontothetableandstarting toread.
“Who?”Octopusactuallywantedtoknow.“Whatteacher?”
“MissApplebaum.Ireallywouldliketostudywithher,”Iadded.Iknewthey
never remember anything about my teachers, so I could have mentioned
someonewhogothitbyasubwaylastyearandtheywouldn’thaveknown.
“Of course,” Cockaloony said, sounding a bit like he’d just O.D.’d on
monosodiumglutamate.Abeansproutclungtohislowerliplikealarva.
“It’sanintensivecourse.”
“Howmanyweekends?”Octopusaskedhopefully.
“Lots.”
“Great.What’sthenameofthecourse?”
“TheFloraandFaunaofCentralPark.”
“It sounds fascinating,” Cockaloony mumbled as he moved himself into a Panasonicstereophonicmassagechairwithavibratingottoman.
“There’llbealotofsleep-overevents,”Iaddedtemptingly.
Octopussaid,“I’llwriteacheckimmediately.Howmuchisit?”
“Twentydollarsperweekend.”
“Isn’tthatcheap?”
“Yes.It’ssubsidized.”
“DoIjustmakethecheckpayabletoMissApplebaum?”
“Cash.Shewantsjustcash,”Istressed.
“Now, that’s what I call a smart teacher,” the Octopus said as I cracked my fortunecookie.“BeattheIRSwheneveryoucan.Whatdoesyourfortunesay?”
She glanced at her watch and continued nonstop. “You know, I have a manic depressive due upstairs in twenty minutes. We’ll have pizza tomorrow night.
Here’sahundredforfiveweeks.”
InamomenttheCockaloonyBirdwassnoringandtheFreudianOctopuswas
gone.
Ireadmyfortunetomyself.
“CONFUCIUSSAYTHEREISNOCUREFORLOVEORDEATH.”
“Would you like first to learn the game Goonie, or should we play Elevator Roulette, or perhaps make exploding hydrogen balloons?” Miss Applebaum
asked,smiling
atus.
“Ivotefortheexplodinghydrogenballoons,”Isaid.
“Doyouthinkweshould?”Zeldaasked.
“Ofcourse,”MissApplebauminsisted.
IthadtakenmestraightuptoSaturdayafternoonbeforeIcouldgetZeldato
return to Miss Applebaum’s apartment. Thanks to my parents, I was better financed this time, so we brought her the biggest blooming begonia plant they had at Ye Green Thumb and a box of imported Amaretti’s chocolate oysters.
Amaretti’schocolateoystersaren’trealoysters;they’rejustmadeintheshapeof oysters.AndweevencalledMissApplebaumbeforewewentover.Youshould
haveheardhowhappyshesoundedtohearfromus,andshewasn’twheezingat
all.
Miss Applebaum went around the apartment selecting all sorts of apparatus.
Zelda sat nervously on the wicker sofa while I followed Miss Applebaum, weaving in and out of all the split-leaf philodendrons, around the flower Ferris wheel,andpastthestuffedalligatorandthehugemodelofthehumanear.
“Here’s a piece of string, a glass bottle, and a balloon—and of course we’ll haveacarbondioxidefireextinguisheronhandjustincase,”MissApplebaum
saidexcitedly.
Beforewecouldsay“Bingo,”MissApplebaumhadtheballoononaone-hole
stopperattachedtoabottlethathadalittlezincandsulfuricacidbubblingaway init.
“Maybeweshouldn’t,”Zeldasaid.
“Ofcourseweshould,”Isaid.
“It’sperfectlysafe,”MissApplebaumassuredZelda.Theballoonfilledwith
hydrogen.Then,MissApplebaumtiedtheendoftheballoonwithastringfuse
andletitrisetotheceiling.
“CanIlightit?”Ibegged.
“Of course. Just strike the match away from you,” Miss Applebaum
instructed.
“Don’t,Henry,”Zeldawhispered.
Ilitthebottomofthestring.
Imean,itwasn’texactlyanexplosionliketheHindenburgblimp,butitwasa
modestlyentertaining Kaboom! AnditloosenedZeldaup,becausethenevenshe wantedtoperformabevyofotherexperimentsMissApplebaumsuggested.We
made a litmus fountain by heating an Erlenmeyer flask with a butane cylinder burner.Ofcourse,MissApplebaumcarefullysupervisedanythingthatrequired
heat. Then we made a very powerful electromagnet by wrapping a thousand turns of insulated wire around a big bolt and marched around the apartment picking up various metal objects, such as paperweights, staple guns, and a transistorradio.MissApplebaumevengotthewindtunnelgoingforus,andwe
peeredatoniontissueunderoneoftheantiquemicroscopes.Theequipmentwas
old,butitstillworked.Wealsotookapartthegiantflowermodelandwireda
telegraph system so Zelda could tap out messages from the living room all the way down the hall to me in Miss Applebaum’s bedroom. Of course, Miss
Applebaum’s bedroom was filled with a lot of scientific equipment, but there were also stacks of clothing, worn hatboxes, well-traveled suitcases, and approximatelyanotherhundredpottedrepresentativesofthevegetablekingdom.
When we got tired of experimentation, Miss Applebaum brewed authentic
Ceyloneseteainabeautifulpaintedclaypot,andwesatbackonthewickerwith
delicatecupsinourhandslikerefinedEnglishgentry.
“Areyousureyou’veneverplayedGoonie?”MissApplebauminquired.
“I’msure,”Isaid.
“It’ssomethingwewouldremember,”Zeldaassuredher.
MissApplebaumlaughedandrushedtoadeskdrawer.Shepulledoutadeck
of cards and sat in a very ladylike manner on the floor in front of the coffee table.Shedealteveryonefourcards,whichwepickedupforoureyesonly.Then
MissApplebaumputtherestofthepackdownandstartedliftinguponecardat
a time. She’d check each card to see if she needed it to make a match with whatevershehadinherhandand,ifshecouldn’tuseit,shejustpasseditalong clockwise.
“Yousee,youtrytogetfourcardsthesame,suchasfourfives,orfoureights,
orfourJacks,orfourofanything!”sheexplained.
“Then what?”Iasked.
“Well,thefirstpersontogetfourofakindstickstheirtongueoutjustatiny
bit.”
“Theirtongueout?”
“Yes,”MissApplebaumchuckled.“Butyoukeepshovingthecardsalongas
thoughnothinghashappeneduntila second playernoticesyouhaveyourtongue out, and then he or she sticks her tongue out! That leaves only a third person, who’sthelasttocatchon,sothefirsttwowiththeirtonguesoutpointathimand yell,‘Goonie!’ThelastonetosticktheirtongueoutgetsthefirstletterG.And thenthenextpersondeals,andwekeepplayinguntilsomeonehaslostsixtimes,
andthenheorsheisthe whole‘Goonie’!Getit?”
“Oh,yes,wegetit,”Zeldasaid.
“Yes,”Iagreed,thinkinghowremarkableitwasthatMissApplebaumcould
switchfromseriousexperimentstosillygames,andenjoyboth!
It sounded slightly berserk, but before we knew it, we were all dealing like crazyandgettingcockeyed,keepingoneeyeonourcardsandtheothertoseeif
anyonewasstickingoutatonguebeforetheothers.Itreallyturnedouttobea
terrific diversion, and we ended up playing twenty-three games. We started yelling “Goonie” as though our lives depended upon it, and we laughed and rolledontheflooruntiloursidesached.ImustsayIneverthoughtinatrillion yearsI’dbeplayingGooniewithoneofmyretiredschoolteachers.Itwasunique
the way Miss Applebaum shared everything with us. We sent out for a Ray’s Originalpizzawithsausageandanchovies.AndMissApplebaumdidn’tbreathe
funny at all during any of the explosions, card playing, or tea sipping. I mean, we went at it until we had to put the lights on in the apartment because it had gottendarkoutside.Thenwemadecinnamonbuns,andafterthat,wedefrosteda
Sara Lee German chocolate cake. Just before eight o’clock, Miss Applebaum insisted we top the whole thing off with big bowls of Jell-O Instant vanilla pudding with Häagen-Dazs rum raisin ice cream. I know that was about eight P.M.becauseZeldahadalsocalledhermothertotellhersheandIweredining
out,andthatZeldawouldbehomealittlelate.Ofcourse,I didn’t have to call the Freudian Octopus or the Cockaloony Bird. I would have gotten their
answeringmachineanyway.
Everythingwasgoingpeachy-doryatMissApplebaum’sthewholenightuntil
around seven minutes to nine. That was when Zelda and I met one of the meanestpersonswe’d evermet.What happenedwasthat MissApplebaumgot
aroundtoteachingushowtoplayElevatorRoulette.Whatwehadtodowasgo
outintothehallandthentaketurnsstandinginfrontoftheclosedelevatordoor.
MissApplebaumwentfirsttodemonstrate,whileZeldaandIstoodtooneside.
“Now, I press the call button,” Miss Applebaum explained, “and when the elevatorcomes,Imakeafrightfacelike this!”
Miss Applebaum suddenly sucked in her lower lip, puckered her upper one, and opened her eyes as wide as saucers. The face she made had Zelda and me laughing our heads off as the elevator headed for our floor, but when the door opened,nobodywasinit.
“See?”MissApplebaum
relaxed.“That’sElevatorRoulette.Ifthedooropens
andnobody’sinit,yougetonlyonepoint.Butifthedooropensandsomeone’s
inittoseeyoumakingafunnyface,well,thenyougetfivepoints!Andthefirst onetogetfiftypointswins!”
Iwentnext,andIstuckonefingerinmymouthtopullmyleftlipdownsoI
lookedlikeadementedaardvark.ThenIpressedthebuttonfortheelevatorand,
whenitcame,nobodywasinitagain,soIonlygotonepoint.ThenZeldawent,
andshepulledherhairoverthefrontofherfaceandhunchedoversoshelooked
likeahairyblob.Thistimewhentheelevatorcame,therewasanoldmaninit
with a Persian cat. Both of them were completely freaked out by the sight of Zelda, and me and Miss Applebaum practically collapsed laughing. That gave Zeldafivepointsrightoff.Duringthenextfifteenminutes,wegottoshockalot of people because around that time people in apartment houses take their assortedpetsoutforwalks.Ifrightenedtwoairlinestewardesses,oneladywitha
bulldog,onemandeliveringadelisandwich,andaguywithabike.Besidesthe oldmanandthePersiancat,Zeldashockedthreebusinessmenandababy-sitter.
MissApplebaumfrightenedavisitingnurse,aladywithbluehair,andaChinese
manwithaLhasaApso.Whenwesawtheirfaces,welaughedandlaughedand
laughed, and sometimes the persons in the elevator laughed, too. What finally happenedwaswestartedplayingElevatorRoulettewithfirsttwoofusmaking
funnyfaces,andthenwemadeitallthreeofus.
“Isn’tthisfun?”MissApplebaumcried.
“Yes!”ZeldaandIagreed.
I even started standing on my head, and Miss Applebaum and Zelda would eachholdoneofmylegs.Inlessthanfiveminutes,wehaddiscombobulateda
rabbi,twooldmencarryingacheckerboard,andaprofessionaldogwalker.We
weresodelirious,wecouldnolongerkeeptrackofourscores,andwewereon
oneofourworstlaughingjags,doingthecancanandrollingoureyesupintothe
backofourheads,whentheelevatordooropenedwithaladyinside,andZelda