Pickle Pizza (4 page)

EIGHT

Eric carried the box upstairs. He shoved it under his bed. Then he went to Grandpa's room to return the bird book.

Eric decided to go outside.

Carly Hunter was making chalk drawings on the sidewalk. Big, bright drawings.

Dee Dee Winters, Carly's best friend, came skating down the sidewalk.

“Hello-o, Eric!” Dee Dee called.

Eric wandered over to the girls. He
stood there quietly with his hands in his pockets.

Carly looked up at him. “Aren't you talking?”

Eric shook his head. “Not much.”

“How come?” Dee Dee asked.

“Long story,” Eric said. He was thinking about Father's Day. Again.

Carly stood up. She put her arm around Dee Dee. “Well, maybe
we
can help.”

Dee Dee agreed. “Yeah, we make a mean batch of cookies.” She turned to Carly. “Baking cookies—and eating them—always helps if you're sad.” Dee Dee's face burst into a big smile. “That's what we made for Father's Day gifts.”

Whamo!
An idea struck Eric.

His hands flew out of his pockets. “Got any recipe books?”

“Do I ever!” Dee Dee said.

“Can I borrow one?” Eric asked.

“You mean—
may
you?” Dee Dee said.

Eric smiled to himself. Another speech lesson?

“Wait here!” Dee Dee skated down the street.

When she came back, Dee Dee showed off her favorite recipes.

Carly peered at the book. Then at Eric. “Are
you
gonna bake cookies?”

Eric stared at the recipe book. He scratched his head. “Maybe.”

Beep, beep!
Dunkum and Jason came riding their bikes. “Look out!” yelled Jason.

Eric played along and acted scared. He jumped onto the sidewalk. Dunkum and Jason dropped their bikes on the grass.

“What's up?” asked Jason.

“Nothin' much,” Eric said.

Dunkum spotted the recipe book.
“Are you making Father's Day cookies?” he asked Eric.

“I'm thinking about it,” Eric said.

Dee Dee was still looking at her book. “Hey! Here's pizza recipes!”

“So?” Dunkum said.

“I
love
pizza!” Dee Dee said.

“Me too,” Eric said. He went to look at the book.

Carly put down her colored chalk. “Let's see how many pizza recipes are in there.” She squeezed between Dee Dee and Eric to have a look.

While Carly counted, Eric's brain whirled.
Homemade pizza for Father's Day
, he thought.
What a great idea!

After lunch, Eric read the pizza recipe. It was called, “The Perfect Pizza.”

Eric chuckled to himself. His pizza was going to be more than perfect. It was going to be a surprise.

The best Father's Day pizza ever!

NINE

Eric sat at the kitchen table. He opened Dee Dee's recipe book.

His mother dried her hands. “Looks like someone's going to cook,” she said.

“I'm gonna try.”

She leaned over his shoulder. “Mm-m, pizza. Good idea.”

“Sh-h! It's a secret for Grandpa,” Eric said. “For Father's Day,”

“Need some help?” Mrs. Hagel's eyes twinkled. “I'm a pro, you know.”

“You can help me,” he said. “You can keep Grandpa out of the kitchen.”

“It's a deal.” She closed the kitchen door.

“Work in progress.” Eric chuckled softly.

In the cupboard, he found the flour, salt, and pepper. In the fridge, he found the eggs and milk.

Suddenly he spotted the pickle jar.

Dill pickles!

Grandpa loved pickles. He ate pickles with everything. Scrambled eggs and pickles. Mashed potatoes and pickles. Broccoli, peas, and carrots—all with pickles. He even ate pickles with apple pie!

Eric grabbed the pickle jar. “My pizza
will
be perfect,” he said out loud. “A perfect pickle pizza!”

Quickly, he set to work. He grated the cheese. Lots of it. Next, he made the
dough for the crust. After that, Eric opened a can of pizza sauce.

Then he chopped the pickles on the cutting board.
What a great topping
, he thought as he chopped.

Thirty minutes later, the pizza was ready for topping. Eric took it out of the oven. He sprinkled on extra cheese and pizza sauce. And piles of chopped pickles.

Then he slid the pan back into the oven. The timer was set. Ten minutes to go.

Soon the smell of hot dill filled the kitchen. He couldn't wait to taste his perfect pizza.

Buzz-zing!
The timer went off.

Eric removed the pan from the oven. Carefully, he cut ten pieces.

Tap, tap
. Someone knocked on the back door.

He hurried to open it.

There stood Carly and Dee Dee with
a plateful of cookies. “Hi, again,” Carly said, giggling.

Eric gazed at the cookies.

“We're having a taste test,” Dee Dee said. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks!” Eric bit into a chocolate chip cookie. “Mm-m, it's great!”

“Goody!” said Carly.

Dee Dee sniffed the air. “Hey, what's that smell?”

“My Father's Day pizza,” Eric said.

Carly wrinkled her nose. “It smells . . . uh, funny.”

Then Eric had an idea. “Wait here,” he said and raced back inside.

In a flash, he was back with his pickle pizza. “Who wants to taste
my
baking?” he asked.

Dee Dee crept up to the pizza. Her eyes got very big. “What's in it?”

“Just taste it,” Eric insisted.

“Uh . . . I don't know,” Carly said.

Carly and Dee Dee stared at the pizza.

“You go first,” Dee Dee said to Carly.

“No,
you
,” Carly said.

Eric stepped between them. He handed each girl a piece of pizza. “Here. Taste it together,” he said. “On your mark, get set. . . bite!”

Carly and Dee Dee bit into Eric's pickle pizza. They coughed and spit it out.

Dee Dee began to gag. “This is gross!”

Eric's heart sank.
My pizza is a flop!

He snatched up the pizza and ran into the house.

Back inside, Eric wrapped up the pizza slices. He shoved them way back in the fridge. Maybe he'd feed Grandpa's birds tomorrow.
If
he could get them to eat pickle pizza pieces!

Feeling sad, Eric went to his room.
He looked at the calendar beside his bed. Saturday, June 15. Father's Day was almost here. There was nothing to give Grandpa.

Time had run out.

TEN

The Hagels went to church the next day. Eric sat between his grandpa and mother.

After church, Eric helped set the dining room table. He went to the kitchen for some napkins. That's when he saw Grandpa poking around in the fridge.

“What's this?” Grandpa held up a slice of cold pizza.

“Nothing you'd want to eat,” Eric said.

Grandpa unwrapped a slice. “Are you sure?”

“It's terrible. It's—” Eric stopped.

“What's wrong with it?”

Eric stared at the floor. “It was supposed to be your Father's Day present. But it turned out yucky. I'm real sorry.”

Grandpa touched Eric's shoulder. “It's the thought that counts.”

“Maybe the birds will eat it,” Eric said.

Grandpa didn't answer. He took a dish out of the cupboard. But his eyes were on the pizza.

Then he put the pizza in the microwave to reheat.

What's he doing?
Eric wondered.

He remembered yesterday's taste test. Dee Dee and Carly hated his pizza. They'd even spit it out!

The timer bell rang. The pizza was warm. Grandpa blew on it gently. Then he bit into the pickle pizza.

Eric held his breath. Would Grandpa gag, too?

There was a long silence.

Then Grandpa's face lit up. “This is wonderful! Simply wonderful!”

Eric couldn't believe his ears. Or his eyes! “You like it?” he asked.

Grandpa's face wrinkled up in the biggest smile ever. “This is a
grand
Father's Day present!”

Eric hugged him. “Really?”

“You know I love pickles.” Grandpa was grinning.

Eric's mother came into the kitchen. She was carrying the box from art class.

Eric rushed over to her. He whispered, “Where'd you find that?”

“Under your bed,” she said. “I was looking for your shoes and there it was.”

Eric's eyes darted to Grandpa. He pulled his mom out of the kitchen. “I
don't want Grandpa to know about this yet,” he explained. “It's a sculpting project.”

She smiled. “I can see that. And I want you to finish it.”

“Someday.” Eric closed the lid.

“How about this summer?” she said. “Mr. Albert called yesterday.”

“From the art studio?” Eric asked.

She nodded. “He wants to give you a grant for art lessons.”

“He's going to
pay
for my art classes?”