Almost Starring Skinnybones (8 page)

T
he tippy top
. That’s what I used to call it when I was three. Whenever my parents would take me to get an ice cream sundae, I’d start jumping up and down at the counter screaming, “And put a cherry right on the tippy top!”

That’s where I was after the magic show. Right on the tippy top. So high up, I could feel people looking up to me as I walked down the hall. Kids I’d never even seen before pointed at me as I went back to class. “Hey! That’s him!” I heard them whisper. “The kid from the magic show!”

At lunch Chad Jones gave me free cuts in line. I’ve been eating lunch at school for seven years and this was the first time I ever got free cuts. Last year I tried shoving my way in front of a first grader, and
the girls’ gym teacher picked me up and carried me back to the end.

Anyway, I was standing there giving old Chad a few pointers on his fake nose blow when Annabelle Posey and two of her snobby friends walked into the cafeteria and lined up near the door.

I didn’t even hesitate. Not for a second. I jumped out of line so quick, it made Chad’s head spin. Then I took a deep breath and waited. Waited for Anna-belle Posey to look up.

“Ha!” I bellowed the instant she saw me.

Annabelle jumped! It had been the best “Ha!” of my career. It had erupted from deep inside me, from the place where frustrations stay all bottled up until you can’t stand them anymore. It sounded mean and mocking at the same time. It echoed off the cafeteria walls.

Annabelle rolled her eyes in disgust and pointed. “You were so stupid in that assembly, I couldn’t believe it! You made a total fool of yourself!”

Loudly, I clapped my hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Excuse me!” I yelled above the cafeteria noise. “But did anyone happen to see the end of
The Uncle Happy Show
this morning? I missed it, and it’s driving me crazy. I turned it off just as Uncle Happy was about to squirt Mr. Billy-Bob with his seltzer bottle.”

Anyone who heard me started to laugh. Annabelle’s
face turned a hundred shades of red. After a second or two she ran out of the room.

I stepped back in line and gave Chad a high five. I bought myself an extra package of Twinkies to celebrate.

The two of us paid for our lunches and headed for the table. It was already pretty full. But when Willy Mumford and Raymond Vellenburg saw me coming, they squished together and made a place for me. I couldn’t believe it! Usually I have to force my way in, turn my tray around, and eat my lunch sideways.

All anyone talked about was the assembly. “You should have seen the sick expression on Mel’s face when you blew your honker in his scarf!” roared Willy. “I thought he was going to barf up that pigeon he pretended to swallow!”

Suddenly a boy sitting at the table behind me started tapping me on the back. “That was you! Right? You’re the kid from the show!”

I waited a second before I slowly turned around to face him. Then I gave him this real casual nod and pretended to shoot him with my finger. “You got it, Frederick,” I replied cooler than anything.

I blew the imaginary smoke away.

I’m serious. I was cooler than cool.

That night at dinner, I couldn’t sit still. You don’t have to act cool with your parents. They don’t understand it anyway.

“You should have been there!” I exclaimed. “The whole place was cracking up. I swear! I had that audience right in the palm of my hand! They loved me!”

My father gave a reluctant smile. Mom patted my arm. I guess I should have known they wouldn’t jump up and down or anything. They only get excited about unimportant stuff. Like if the cap is off the toothpaste.

“We’re glad you had a good day, Alex,” replied my mother, hardly sounding glad at all. “Just don’t count on anything to change, okay? I’d hate to see you disappointed again. You know how you felt when they didn’t like your commercial.”

“But don’t you see? That’s the great thing about this!” I explained. “There’s nothing to count on, it’s already happened! I’m already a hit! There’s even been talk of a fan club!”

The two of them looked at each other and quickly left the kitchen. I think they went somewhere to roll their eyes and groan.

I wasn’t kidding though. By Saturday my fan club had four members. I wanted to keep it small. Just close personal friends and relatives. Even though
Brian hadn’t joined yet, I offered him the chance to be president. He stared at me a second and pushed me down.

“I’m serious!” I called as he walked away. “Think about it! This could be a chance of a lifetime. You could finally be in charge of something. You could call meetings and shout, ‘Come to order!’ I bet we could even get you one of those little wooden mallets.”

Suddenly he spun around and headed back in my direction. He continued coming until his mouth was about an inch from my ear.

“No!” he screamed as loud as he could. “Did you hear me, Alex, you giant jerk? No! No! No! No! No!”

Without waiting for me to respond, he turned and stormed away again.

I just shook my head and smiled. What a kidder.

“Let’s do lunch, you crazy guy,” I called after him.

The first meeting was held at my house on Saturday morning. Nanna and Pop Pop couldn’t make it. They wanted to. But they live in Florida.

The other two members showed up. But with only the three of us it was a little bit of a letdown.
Fluffy refused to wear her nametag, and Ernest Wilson wet his pants and had to run home.

Luckily, at school things just kept getting better and better. Even though most of the guys had stopped talking about the magic show, they still saved a place for me at the lunch table. Why wouldn’t they? I was the best thing that had happened to that table since Butch Botts made milk come out his nose.

On Tuesday Tyrone Hayes asked me if I was going out for the lead in the school Christmas play.

“They’re doing
A Christmas Carol
,” he informed me. “I’m thinking about trying out for Scrooge, but if you’re going to try out I might not bother.”

I thought it over a minute. The idea appealed to me.

“Scrooge, eh?” I replied thoughtfully. “Yeah, I might give it a shot.”

Tyrone looked disappointed.

As I got up from the table, I gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t feel bad, Ty,” I said sympathetically. “You can probably still try out for one of the little unimportant parts.”

The more I thought about the idea, the better I liked it. Who would be better in the school play than me? Who had more experience? Who had
more guts? The lead in the Christmas play! The perfect thing to keep me in the public eye!

I could see it all now …

ALEXANDER B. FRANKOVITCH
starring as
SCROOGE
in
A Christmas Carol

I could make some posters with me posing in my Scrooge costume and sell them to small, unsuspecting children. Little kids too young to know what they’re doing. Then I could use the poster money to hire an agent to get me jobs in Hollywood. Wow! Posters in Hollywood sell like hotcakes. Maybe I could have one with me all sweaty carrying a machine gun. Or one in the jungle where I’m …

“Alex … Alex … Alex!”

Raymond Vellenburg shouted me out of my daydream. When I looked up, he was halfway out the cafeteria door.

“The bell rang, Frankovitch! Where were
you
?”

As I picked up my books I couldn’t help smiling.

“Hollywood,” I muttered to myself. “I was in Hollywood.”

Tryouts were held on Thursday and Friday in the auditorium. The speech teacher, Mr. Tilton, was the director. He was tall and thin and had a skinny mustache that looked like he drew it on with a pencil. Also, he spoke with a British accent. I don’t think he was British though. I think he just wanted to be.

On Wednesday afternoon he held a meeting to explain things. When I got to the auditorium, Mr. Tilton was already on stage clearing his throat.

“People, may I have your attention please? Tryouts will proceed thusly.”

That’s how he talked. He said stuff like “thusly.”

“First of all I will give everyone a script, along with a sheet of paper describing the characters. There are a total of twenty-one parts available in this play. However, during tryouts all boys will read the part of Scrooge on page twenty-eight through thirty … and all girls will read the part of Mrs. Cratchit on pages fifty-five and fifty-six. This will make things immensely easier for yours truly.

“Questions thus far?”

Some kid in the front row raised his hand. “Who’s yours truly?”

Mr. Tilton glared at the kid for about ten minutes. When you’re trying to be British, you don’t like a lot of kids making fun of you.

Finally some kid from the back of the room shouted out the answer. “Yours truly is
him
, stupid.”

Mr. Tilton took a couple of deep breaths. I think he was trying to compose himself. If you ask me, guys like Mr. Tilton aren’t cut out to be teachers. Guys like Mr. Tilton should play the violin.

“Any
other
questions?” he asked then.

Another hand went up. “What if you don’t want to be in this play at all? Like what if your mom’s just making you? Could you like not give us a part even if we’re really talented?”

Before he could respond, a girl in front of me stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t there more girls’ parts in this stupid play?” she demanded.

A couple of the boys in the back started booing. Pretty soon we were all doing it.

I stood up on my chair and cupped my hands.

“Where do I get my Scrooge costume?” I yelled. “Do I go to a tailor or what?”

It was a simple question, I thought. No need for Mr. Tilton to get upset like he did.

His cheeks puffed up like a balloon. Angrily, he stomped off the stage and began handing out scripts. “For those of you who are
truly
interested in being a part of this production, be here tomorrow at
precisely three o’clock!” he snapped. “The decision as to who gets which role will be mine and mine alone. It will be based on how well you read your part.”

He tried to calm himself down. “Those who seem most natural and at ease on the stage will have the best chance,” he offered. “The best advice I can give you is to become familiar with the part. Then relax and just let it flow. Flow is very important.”

This girl next to me took out a piece of paper and wrote down the word
flow
. I’m serious. She even put an exclamation point next to it. When she saw me looking, she covered her paper like it was a test or something.

I smiled smugly. “Don’t worry. I’m a professional. I already know how to flow.”

“Goody goody for you,” she retorted.

My smile got even bigger.

Yeah.
Goody goody for me
, I thought happily.
Goody goody for old Alex “The Greatest Scrooge of All Time” Frankovitch
.

  
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