The Fix-It Friends--Sticks and Stones Page 4
“What?” he asked. He looked really confused.
“We know KUNG FU!!!!” I shouted. Fast as lightning, I got into the crane pose.
I looked over my shoulder and said, “Go!” Then the other Fix-Its got into their poses, too, but they were pretty halfhearted. Jude didn’t look like a dragon at all. He looked like a nervous weasel.
I turned to J.J. and I yelled, “No! More! TEASING!”
Then I did my crane kick. Or, at least, I tried to.
I wasn’t going to actually kick J.J. I was just going to kick near him, so he’d be scared and know I meant business. But I was so excited that I kicked too high, and before I knew what was happening, I was slipping and falling forward and landing hard on my knee.
“Ow,” I panted. “Ow ow ow ow ow.”
I fell so hard that there was a hole in the knee of my favorite jeans. Under the hole, there was a big bloody scrape.
I hate blood. I really, truly hate blood. It makes me feel all dizzy like I am maybe going to faint.
I started to cry.
Jude ran to get Nana. The rest of the kids gathered around to help me—even J.J.
“Oh no! Don’t cry,” said J.J.
Then, to my amazement, he took off his Florida hoodie and rolled it into a ball, and then he put it under my hurt knee like a pillow.
Nana rushed over and gave me a hug, and then I cried really hard. I didn’t even care who saw. It hurt a lot. But I was also crying because I was so disappointed that my plan hadn’t worked, and I was mad that my favorite jeans were ripped, and I was confused about J.J.
Pearl started to cry, too. Her tears made her whiskers get all smeared.
“Wonny bwoken!” she cried.
“No, no, bella. She’s-a not broken. Just-a little-a boo-boo!” said Nana.
“Fix my Wonny!” Pearl demanded. She said it like I was her baby doll or something.
“Want a piece of gum?” J.J. asked me. “When I get hurt, my brother always gives me gum to make me feel better. Or anyway, he used to.”
Then he handed me a stick of wintergreen gum. It’s not my favorite, but it’s my second favorite.
Weird, weird, weird, I thought. Weird that J.J. uses gum to cheer up like I do and weird that J.J. is being so nice all of a sudden.
I didn’t know what to think.
Ivy came over, wearing earrings that were the shape of skulls and crossbones in all of her earring holes.
“What happened here?” she asked Noah.
“Umm … it’s kind of a long story,” Noah said.
“That’s cool. I’ve got all the time in the world,” said Ivy. I knew that she would make Noah spill the beans now even though he wanted to keep his problem private. That was one thing I could be relieved about, at least.
Chapter 11
When we got home, I sat on the side of the bathtub while Jude cleaned my scrape. He is absolutely the best at that stuff. Here’s why:
1. He is very gentle when he cleans the cut.
2. He has his own personal collection of cool Band-Aids. He buys them with his allowance, and sometimes he lets me use them. They have old-fashioned spooks on them like Frankenstein, the bride of Frankenstein, and Dracula.
3. He never, ever uses alcohol to clean your cut, which is what Dad uses. Dad thinks it’s the only thing that really works, but I think it’s cruel and unusual punishment.
Jude patted my knee very gently with a cotton ball full of hydrogen peroxide.
“Remember when you used to call it High Dragon Rocks Hide?” he asked me.
I giggled. “Yeah, I thought they called it that because it was a magical potion they found hiding in the rocks up in the mountain, where dragons fly.”
“And then one day you got a scrape and asked Dad to use the High Dragons stuff, and he had no idea what you were talking about,” Jude said, smiling.
“And finally, I just had to pull it out of the medicine cabinet and show him—”
“And then he laughed so hard, he cried.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a nasty laugh like J.J.’s,” I said. “Because Dad’s nice and funny and not mean. He’s like you.”
Jude smiled. Sometimes I feel like we are enemies, but then other times I feel like we are the best of friends.
“J.J. was pretty nice when you got hurt. Maybe he’s not so bad,” Jude pointed out. “Plus I think he misses his big brother.”
Jude stuck a Headless Horseman Band-Aid on my knee, very carefully.
“If you went to Florida, I’d probably miss you a little,” I said. But really, I was thinking, I don’t know what I’d do! It would be worse than broccoli for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It would be worse than having chicken pox on my birthday or having to go to school in the summertime!
“Uggggh,” I groaned. “Why doesn’t J.J. just make up his mind? Is he nice or nasty? A bully or a buddy?”
“Who’s a bully-a?” Nana asked. She had walked in without us even noticing, that sneaky lady.
Jude left and I told Nana everything. When I was done, I felt really relieved. She was quiet for a minute, and then she said, “I’m gonna make-a some tea and tell-a you a story.”
Nana and I love to drink tea, especially peppermint. Sometimes if I’m miserable, she lets me drink out of these special cups and saucers that used to belong to her mother. They are super dainty and delicate and have dancing ladies on them.
Since I was miserable and bleeding, Nana let me use the special teacups, and she gave me a butter cookie to dunk. Nonno came in then and said, “What am I? Chopped liver?” which meant he wanted tea and cookies, too.
“When I was a little girl-a, I was-a very skinny,” Nana said.
“It’s true! She was like a toothpick!” laughed Nonno. He knows that because they were friends when they were kids.
“There was a girl-a who lived on-a my street. Her name was-a—”
“Isabella Clara Santini!” Nonno interrupted. “And she was crazy about donkeys. I don’t know why. She just loved donkeys like you wouldn’t believe.”
I giggled. I always like hearing stories about when they were kids in Italy. Some stuff was so different then, but other stuff was exactly the same as it is now.
“And-a do you know-a what Isabella Clara Santini called-a me?” asked Nana.
I shook my head.
“Ranocchia!” Nana and Nonno said at the same time.
“What’s that mean?” I asked, dunking my cookie in my tea.
“It means ‘froggy,’” said Nonno. “Because Nana’s legs were so skinny, she looked like a frog.”
“But that’s so mean of Isabella!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe someone had made fun of my darling nana!
“Yes,” said Nana, sipping her tea. “Every-a time she saw-a me, she called me ranocchia. I was-a so embarrassed that-a I always wore long-a dresses to cover my-a legs.”
“One time we all went to the beach, and your nana stayed in her long dress in the hot sun all day and never went swimming,” said Nonno, shaking his head.
“Nana!” I said. “How awful!”
Nana nodded. “Then-a, one day-a, I was playin’ ball by-a myself in front-a our house. Isabella was-a walkin’ home, holdin’ this little clay-a donkey she made at school-a. It was-a very pretty and painted all-a different colors. And-a then, just-a like always, Isabella called me ranocchia again!”
“Nana was so mad, she threw the ball right at Isabella,” said Nonno, “and it knocked the sculpture out of her hand, and it broke into a million little pieces.”
“No!” I gasped. My nana is always proper. She wears pearls and perfume. I couldn’t imagine her ever doing anything so … so … so naughty!
“And-a Isabella picked-a up the donkey’s broken head-a, and she was-a cryin’ and cryin’. I said-a I was sorry. Then I asked her-a why she called me ranocchia. But-a she just-a shrugged. So I said, ‘Well-a, stop-a! It makes me feel-a terrible!’”
“And after that,” Nonno said, “Isabella Clara
Santini never called her ranocchia again.”
I gulped down the last of my tea.
“I get it!” I cried. “I should throw a ball at J.J.!”
Nana and Nonno shook their heads.
“I should make him cry?”
More head shaking.
“I should take something he really loves and break it into a billion pieces?” Even more head shaking.
“Talk-a to him. No kung-a fu. No shoutin.’ Just-a strong, clear-a words,” said Nana.
“Okay.” I nodded.
Nana kissed me on the head. Then she said she knew just how to darn my favorite jeans so they would be as good as new—better than new, in fact. She whisked them away with a wink.
The next morning, when I woke up, I saw my jeans hanging on my closet door. Instead of a big, ugly rip in the knee, there was a big fabric star sewed on.
Guess what color it was?
Turquoise!
And guess what it had all over it?
Glitter!
That Nana must be my fairy grandmother! My darn fairy grandmother!
Chapter 12
All day at school, I felt fabulous in my comfy old jeans with the new patch. I felt like nothing could get me down!
At recess, Cora and I asked Noah what Ivy had said when he told her about J.J.
“Well, she said she was going to get J.J. a one-way ticket to a dungeon in Siberia. But then she changed her mind and said that first I should try talking it out, and then, if that didn’t work, we could try Siberia.”
I laughed.
“Ivy made me tell my parents, too,” said Noah.
“Ooooh, I bet your dad was furious at J.J.!” I said. “I bet he’ll say something mean about him on The Rafael Rocha Radio Hour!”
“But it’s a sports show,” said Cora. “And anyway, he can’t just say mean stuff on the radio. He’d get fired.”
Cora is always sensible. It’s lucky for her she has me as her best friend to add some spice to the day!
Noah nodded. “He was a little mad, and he said some stuff in Portuguese that I didn’t really understand. But then he told me the same thing as Ivy. To try talking first.”
“I can help you talk to J.J.,” squeaked Cora.
“Okay,” said Noah.
“Me, too!” I said.
“Ummmm, I don’t know.” He looked a little nervous.
“Just because I broke Ezra’s Legos … and Cora’s Monster Dress … and my own knee does not mean I will mess up the talk!”
“It’s just too many people,” said Cora. “You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen.”
“Too many cooks in the kitchen probably make a delicious feast with homemade whipped cream for dessert!” I said in a huff. But then I got a great idea.
“I know!” I hopped up and down. “I’ll hide nearby in case you need backup.”
“Okay,” said Noah, “and we can have a code word. And if I say the code word, it means ‘Come quick!’”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I cried.
I love code words. My first favorite thing is bulldogs, and my second favorite thing is days off from school, but my third favorite thing is code words.
“How about tuberculosis?” I suggested.
“Or patent leather?” said Cora.
“Or ¡Cuidado! No se pare en esa caca del dragón?” I said.
Noah cracked up. Then he said, “What about hopscotch?”
“Perfect!” Cora and I agreed.
“Perfect?” asked Matthew Sawyer. He has this annoying habit of just popping his big head right into the middle of a private conversation.
“What’s perfect? Are you talking about my face? Or my hair? Or my report card?”
I rolled my eyes. “The only perfect thing about you, Matthew Sawyer, is your pestiness. You’re a perfect pest.”
“I am?” he shrieked, batting his eyelashes and pretending to be really happy. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”
Chapter 13
The rest of the afternoon felt like it was taking forever, but finally, it was three o’clock and time to go home.
Nana picked me up and brought malted milk balls for a treat! Even though I had to go to gymnastics class, she said I could take a few minutes to help Noah talk with J.J. I knew our talk would be quick because Cora had to go to Hebrew school.
“Just-a don’ break-a any donkeys!” Nana said, and winked.
I saw Cora and Noah talking to J.J. near the climbing wall, and very quietly, I ran over and hid around the corner where they couldn’t see me.
Guess who was already there, leaning against the wall?
Ivy! Wearing purple lipstick!
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“Just making sure everything’s A-okay,” she said.
“Me, too,” I said. I flattened my back against the wall next to her and leaned over as far as I could to hear what they were saying. But then guess who walked over and started talking REALLY LOUDLY?
“What are you guys doing?” Jude asked. Except it sounded like: “WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?”
“Shhhhh!” I whispered. “We’re Noah’s backup!” I pointed to Noah and Cora and J.J. around the corner.
Jude and Ezra flattened their backs against the wall next to me and Ivy. “Then we’re the backup to the backup,” Jude whispered.
The thing about brothers is that even though they can be super annoying, they are always there to help when you need them.
I strained my ears to hear what J.J. was saying. He sounded upset. “But I was just kidding!”
Then came Noah’s voice: “Well, it’s not funny.”
Then came Cora’s voice: “How would you like it if Noah made fun of your orange jacket? Or for being really tall? Or for your name? What’s J.J. stand for, anyway?”
J.J. didn’t say anything.
Noah said, “I don’t like it when you call me Shorty.” The more he talked, the louder and stronger his voice got. “I don’t want you to say it again.”
“Rock on, Noah!” Ivy whispered. She was smiling.
“Okay,” said J.J.
“If you tease me anymore, my parents are telling Principal Powell,” came Noah’s voice. It was strong and sure.
“Don’t do that! Please!” J.J. pleaded.
Then came Cora’s voice: “J.J., will you agree not to call Noah names?”
“I won’t do it again,” promised J.J. “I’m sorry.”
Noah didn’t say anything for a minute. Then I heard him say, “Fine.”
“Do you want to play soccer?” asked J.J. “Or we could play with my pogo stick—”
Pogo stick! That was the code word! At least I was pretty sure it was. Quick as a flash, I jumped out of my hiding spot and raced over to Noah and Cora and J.J.
“DON’T WORRY!” I shouted. “I’M HERE! Your backup has ARRIVED!!”
Jude and Ezra were right behind me. “Your backup’s backup has arrived, too,” said Ezra. He didn’t say it with a whole lot of pep, though.
Ivy came, too. “Hiya,” she said. “What’s up?”
Noah and Cora and J.J. were looking at me like I was a kangaroo with three heads. “What are you doing?” Noah whispered.
“I heard the code word!” I whispered back. “Somebody said pogo stick!”
“But the code word was hopscotch!” whispered Noah. “And J.J. can’t say the code word; only I can!”
He had a point.
Jude and Ezra just shook their heads and walked away.
Ivy laughed.
“Oops! Sorry about that!” I said to Noah. I started to back away from them in little tiny steps. But then I had a better idea. I turned to J.J.
“But since I’m here, I have something to say, too,” I said.
I took a deep breath.
“It’s not okay for you to make fun of my name—”
“Plus,” said Ivy, “Ronny’s a totally cool nickname. It’s tough and mysterious.”
I was so flattered!
> “Why, thank you,” I said to Ivy. Then I turned back to J.J.
“And it’s not okay to make fun of my clothes, either. I like these jeans. In fact, I don’t just like them. I LOVE them. If these jeans were a person, I might just marry them! I mean, have you seen this turquoise glitter star?”
“It’s hard-core awesome,” Ivy agreed.
“Why, thank you again,” I said. And then, to J.J.: “So, I don’t care if they’re dirty or torn or anything. Don’t pick a fight with my pants. Capisce?”
Capisce is how Italian people, especially mobsters, say “Understand?”
“Ummm, okay,” J.J. said. “I won’t fight with your pants.”
“Good.” I nodded really slowly. “Good.”
Then I turned around to find Nana so I could go to gymnastics.
“Hey, nice work,” Ivy whispered, giving me a high five. “You’re one tough cookie.”
As Jude and I put on our backpacks, I saw Noah and J.J. and Ivy kicking the soccer ball around. J.J. looked really happy.
While I was walking out of the yard, I almost bumped into someone walking in. It was the tallest man I’ve ever seen. He was so tall that I had to bend my neck up, up, up to see his face. And guess what he was wearing on top of his head? An orange hat that said FLORIDA on the front.
Noah was totally right about J.J.’s dad. He was as tall as a redwood tree!
I gulped loudly and waited for Mr. Taylor to yell or tell me to watch where I was going. But he didn’t. He just patted me on the head and said, “You okay, kiddo?”
I nodded and then I ran out the gate. Now that’s what I call enough excitement for one day!
Chapter 14
The next day was Friday. As I like to say: TGIF! I didn’t used to know what that meant. Then Jude told me it meant “Tarantulas Gobble Ink Fast!” Which I always thought was a very weird thing for people to say. Then one day, Dad told me that it really meant “Thank Goodness It’s Friday!” which made a lot more sense. I am still trying to think of a way to get back at Jude for tricking me. It’s on my to-do list.