Soupy Saturdays With the Pain and the Great One (2 page)

As soon as I said it I started wondering if Mr. Soupy is his real name. Probably not. It’s probably just some name he invented. If it
is
his real name I wonder if it’s his first name or last? Probably his last. I wonder what his first
name is? Sam Soupy? Scott Soupy?
Zachariah
Soupy?

Mr. Soupy tried to get the Pain to take off his earmuffs. He made silly faces. He did a wild dance. But he wasn’t getting anywhere. The Pain just sat there.

Finally, I said, “Why don’t you try it with just one ear covered? That way, if Mr. Soupy doesn’t cut off your first ear you’ll know you’re safe.”

The Pain didn’t answer.

“Look around,” I told him. “Do you see anyone without two ears?”

The Pain looked at the kids who were waiting.

They looked back at him.

“That doesn’t mean it
can’t
happen,” he said. “Besides, if Mr. Soupy cut off
your
ear would you come back?”

“The only cut you get at my shop is a
haircut!”
Mr. Soupy sang. Then he laughed at his own joke.

I laughed with him.

But the Pain didn’t even smile.

“You can cut the back,” the Pain told Mr. Soupy. “You can cut the front. But you
can’t
cut around my ears. Those are the rules.”

“Okay,” Mr. Soupy said. “No problem.”

“You can do that?” the Pain asked.

“Sure.”

“Won’t he look funny?” I said.

“Sure,” Mr.

Soupy said. “But he didn’t say he cared about looking funny.”

Mr. Soupy raised his scissors to the Pain’s head. As soon as he did, the Pain let out a wail.… “
Waaahhhh
!!!”

That got Dad’s attention. He came over to the chair. “What’s up?” Dad asked.

Mr. Soupy put down his scissors and said, “I give up!”

“You can’t give up,” Dad said. “You’re Mr. Soupy. You get the job done!”

Mr. Soupy sighed. “Bring him back in a few days,” he told Dad. “When I don’t have a crowd waiting.”

At home, the Pain said, “I’ll grow my hair long and wear it in a ponytail.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “Fine.”

“Fine?” I asked her. “How can you say that’s fine?”

“What’s the problem?” she said. “If Jake wants a ponytail, he can grow a ponytail.”

“George Washington had long hair,” the Pain said. He was racing two little cars around Mom’s chair. Fluzzy was trying to catch them.

Oh, excellent!
I thought.
My brother
’
s going to look like George Washington
. “Are you going to get wooden teeth, too?” I
asked him. “Because George Washington had wooden teeth. Did you know that?”

The Pain opened his mouth and showed off
his
teeth.

Three weeks went by. The Pain’s hair was flopping in his eyes.

“How long does it take to grow a ponytail?” he asked.

“A long time,” I told him.

“How long?” he asked.

“All summer, at least.”

“All summer?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it.

I offered him barrettes. He knocked them out of my hand. Fluzzy batted them around on the floor. I tried not to laugh.

The next day I said, “I have an idea.” I got some cardboard, a pair of scissors, my best markers, and some string. Then I made the Pain a set of cardboard ears.

“Green ears with pink dots?” the Pain said when I was finished.

“Why not?” I asked, attaching them to his ears.

“Suppose Mr. Soupy cuts through the cardboard?” the Pain asked.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Did you ever try to cut through cardboard?” I said.

The Pain checked himself in the mirror. “I look like someone from another planet.”

“You act like someone from another planet,” I told him.

“That’s how much you know!” he said.

But the next Saturday, he wore his green ears with the pink dots to Mr. Soupy’s shop.

“Nice ears,” Mr. Soupy said.

“Thanks,” I said. “I made them.”

“Good job,” Mr. Soupy said.

I had to agree.

Mr. Soupy got to work. He saved the ear trim for last. The Pain closed his eyes. I whispered, “I didn’t want to tell you until now, but these ears have magical powers.”

“What powers?” the Pain asked. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

I whispered, “If Mr. Soupy gets too close to an ear …”

“What?” the Pain said. “What will happen?”

“Mr. Soupy will find out,” I said.

“Stop!” Mr. Soupy said. “You’re scaring me.”

But I noticed how carefully he trimmed around the Pain’s ears.

When Mr. Soupy was done, he whipped the cape off the Pain. The hair fell to the floor. The Pain looked down at it. “Can I have some of that hair?” he asked.

“Help yourself,” Mr. Soupy said. “No extra charge.”

The Pain jumped out of the chair. He scooped his hair off the floor and mashed it into a ball.

Mr. Soupy handed him a little bag.

“What are you going to do with all that hair?” I asked.

The Pain shrugged. “You never know.” Then he put his green ears back on.

“You are
so
weird,” I told him.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why you’re glad I’m your brother.”

“Who says I’m glad you’re my brother?” I asked. “Did I ever
say
I’m glad you’re my brother?”

“No, but you made me ears,” the Pain said.

“So?”

“So you must like me.”

“Like you?” I said, as if that was the craziest thing I’d ever heard.

“If you didn’t like me, why would you help me?” he asked.

“Help you?” I said, as if that was the second-craziest thing I’d ever heard. “I wasn’t trying to help
you!
I was trying to help Mr. Soupy get the job done!”

Soccer Doc

On Saturdays I’m going to play in a soccer league. Just like the Great One. And here’s the best news—Justin’s dad is the coach!

We have a uniform. It’s red and blue. It has a jersey, long socks, shin guards, and cleats. I tried it on in my room. Then I raced around the house with my soccer ball, pretending I knew all the moves.

“Watch where you’re going!” the Great
One shouted as I tripped over her LEGO village.

“Can’t,” I told her. “Wherever the ball goes, I go too.”

Fluzzy took a flying leap onto the sofa.

“Mommm …” the Great One yelled.

“Jake!” Mom called. “Take your soccer ball and play outside.”

So I kicked my ball to the front door, then down the steps, across the grass, and back again.
Wait until Justin’s dad sees me in action
, I thought.