A Flying Birthday Cake? (4 page)

“I already told them,” said Joe.

Marvin tried to figure out when he could have done that. They’d been together since the flagpole.

The front door opened, and Jacob came home, along with his friend Nate. Marvin was suddenly afraid that Joe might say something that would embarrass him.

Jacob and Nate went to middle school. Marvin admired his older brother. He thought all of his brother’s friends were
cool, but Nate was the coolest. Usually, Jacob and Nate were nice to Marvin, but sometimes they treated him like he was a stupid little kid.

“Hey, Mar,” said Jacob as he tossed his backpack onto a chair.

“Hi,” said Marvin. “C’mon, Joe. Let’s go up to my room.” He wanted to get out of there fast, before Joe said something weird.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Nate.

“Nothing,” said Marvin.

“You want to play wizzle-fish?” asked Joe.

Marvin felt himself redden. “They don’t want to play,” he said. Jacob and Nate never played with Marvin and his friends.

“How do you play?” asked Linzy.

“Everybody needs two wizzles,” said Joe.
“But you probably don’t have any wizzles.”

“No, we don’t,” said Marvin.

“Paper plates might work,” said Joe.

“We have paper plates,” said Linzy. “Left over from my birthday, don’t we, Jacob?”

“Sure,” said Jacob. He went to the pantry and got a small stack of paper plates. “They even have fish on them,” he said.

The plates were blue and green and filled with brightly colored fish.

“How do you play?” asked Nate.

Marvin couldn’t believe it.

“Here, I’ll show you,” said Joe.

They went in the backyard to play.

Everyone got two paper plates. They had to try to walk from one end of the yard to the other, stepping only on their plates. It was hard. Marvin had to step on
the plate in front of him while he picked up the plate behind him. Then he would toss that plate in front of him and step on it as he picked up the plate he stepped off of.

He was surprised by how much fun it was. Even more surprising, Jacob and Nate had fun, too.

“Why is it called ‘wizzle-fish’?” asked Nate.

“Lake Wizzle is a real lake,” Joe explained. “Big, flat fish swim around, right at the surface. People try to walk all the way across the lake, stepping only on the wizzle-fish.”

“Really?” asked Jacob. “No way!”

“I’d like to try that,” said Nate.

“It’s dangerous,” said Joe. “Sharks swim underneath the wizzle-fish at the bottom
of the lake. So if you fall off the wizzle-fish, the sharks will get you.”

“Cool,” said Jacob.

“And wizzle-fish aren’t like paper plates,” said Joe. “They move around and wiggle, and are slimy and slippery.”

“Have you ever stepped on a
real
wizzle-fish?” asked Linzy.

“Lots of times,” said Joe. “But I always stay close to the shore. The sharks are in the middle of the lake.”

“What does it feel like to step on a fish?” Linzy asked.

“It tickles a little bit,” said Joe.

“You’re making this up,” said Jacob. “He’s making this up, isn’t he, Marvin?”

Marvin wasn’t sure. Although as far as he knew, sharks didn’t live in lakes. Sharks lived only in salt water.

“Where is Lake Wizzle?” asked Nate.

Joe looked up at the sky and said, “Chicago.”

Jacob nudged Marvin with his elbow and said, “Your friend Joe is cool. Not like those other two dorks you hang out with.”

How People Eat Pizza
in Chicago

Marvin invited Joe to spend the night.

“Were you born in Chicago, Joe?” Marvin’s mother asked him as they sat down for dinner.

“Yes, Nancy,” said Joe. “Where were you born?”

For a moment, Marvin’s mother didn’t answer. Her name was Nancy, but Marvin’s other friends always called her Mrs. Redpost. “Richmond, Virginia,” she said.

“Where were you born, Dennis?” asked Joe.

“New Jersey,” said Marvin’s father.

They had pizza and salad for dinner. Since he was a guest, Joe was served first.

Joe used his knife and fork, and cut his pizza into little pieces.

Marvin didn’t want Joe to feel weird, so he cut his pizza into tiny pieces, too.

Marvin had warned his parents that the other kids at school made fun of Joe for being different. So when Marvin’s mother saw Joe and Marvin cutting their pizza, she did the same.

Marvin’s father started to pick up his piece of pizza with his hand. Mrs. Redpost cleared her throat, then said, “Use your fork and knife, dear.” Then she cut Linzy’s piece of pizza for her. Marvin was glad that Jacob was having dinner at Nate’s house. Jacob might not think Joe was cool if he
saw him eating pizza. There was no way Jacob would eat pizza with a knife and fork. Jacob sometimes ate two pieces at a time, one in each hand.

“What do your parents do, Joe?” asked Marvin’s father.

“Um, just normal things, Dennis,” said Joe.

“No, I mean, what kind of work? Did you move here because of their jobs?”

“Sort of,” said Joe. “They have a lot of meetings in Washington, D.C. But they were told the schools were better here in Maryland. That’s why I’m here.”

“What kind of meetings?” asked Marvin’s mother.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” said Joe. “It’s top-secret.”

“Oh,
I see
,” said Marvin’s mother.

Marvin saw his parents stare at Joe. He knew they were wondering if Joe was telling the truth.

After they finished the pizza—which took a
lot
longer than usual—Marvin’s mother asked what they wanted for dessert. “We’ve got cookies, ice cream, Jell-O …”

Marvin knew what Joe wanted. “We’ll have Jell-O,” he said.

Marvin’s mother went to the refrigerator. “That’s strange,” she said. “It’s all gone.”

“Joe ate it all,” said Linzy.

“Can you make more?” asked Marvin.

“That’s okay,” said Joe. “You don’t have to.”

“Joe really likes Jell-O,” said Linzy. “He’d never had it before.”

“They don’t have Jell-O in Chicago,” said Marvin.

“Oh,
I see
,” said Mrs. Redpost. She stared at Joe for a moment. “Well, I can make some more, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“Can I help?” asked Joe. “I want to study how you make it.”

“Sure, Joe. I’ll show you how.”

She began by boiling water. “Would you like some cookies for now?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” said Marvin.

Linzy said she wanted four cookies.

“How about you, Joe?” asked Marvin’s mother.

“No thank you, Nancy. I’ll just have a cup of coffee.”

Floortime

Joe was stirring the yellow Jell-O mixture in a pan on the stove.

“Do you want to call your parents?” Marvin’s mother asked him.

“I already did,” said Joe.

Marvin didn’t know when Joe could have done that.

“If you think Jell-O is good, you should try pudding,” said Linzy.

“I feel bad that I haven’t even talked to your mother,” said Mrs. Redpost.

“She wanted to talk to you, too, Nancy.
But she’s in a very important meeting with the president.”

“Oh,
I see
,” said Marvin’s mother.

Marvin knew his mother didn’t quite believe everything Joe said. He wasn’t sure he did, either.

“Is there someone at your house who can bring your things over?” his mother asked. “You don’t have pajamas, a toothbrush, or a change of clothes for tomorrow.”

“I just wear the same clothes every day,” Joe said. “I sleep in them, too.”

“Oh,
I see
.”

“It’s true,” Marvin said, sticking up for his friend. “He’s worn the same clothes every day for a week.”

“And I always take my toothbrush with me wherever I go,” Joe said. He reached into the front pocket of his baggy pants
and pulled out a toothbrush.

Marvin’s father asked Marvin to help him take the futon up to Marvin’s room.

The futon was in the family room. When Nick or Stuart spent the night, they slept on that.

“You don’t have to,” said Joe. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“The futon is very comfortable,”
Marvin’s father assured him. “Just like a bed.”

“If you want, you can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the futon,” said Marvin.

“I don’t like beds,” said Joe. “At home I sleep on a hard, flat board.”

“Oh,
I see
,” said Marvin’s mother.

“What should I do?” asked Marvin’s father.

“Let him sleep on the floor,” said Marvin’s mother.

“Can I sleep on the floor, too?” asked Linzy.

A few hours later, Marvin went to bed and Joe went to floor.

“Good night, Joe,” said Marvin.

“Good night, Marvin,” said Joe. “Thanks for inviting me over. This has
been the best day of my whole life.”

Marvin was glad. It had been a fun day for him, too. He felt as if he and Joe had been friends for a long time, not just for one day.

“We travel around so much,” said Joe. “It’s hard for me to make friends.”

“I guess the kids at school have been kind of mean to you.”

“Oh, they’re okay,” said Joe. “I’ve been treated a lot worse. I just wish I knew what I did wrong. I tried so hard this time. Before I came here, I read books and watched movies about what the kids were like here.”

Marvin was surprised there were books and movies about that.

“But still, everyone knows I’m different,” said Joe. “What did I do wrong?”

“You’re not different,” Marvin said. “I mean, everyone’s different. Life would be boring if everyone was the same.”

“But what do I do that is so different?” Joe asked. “I want to fit in. I want the other kids to like me. What do I have to do?”

Marvin didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to hurt Joe’s feelings.

“I don’t want to be a door key,” said Joe.

“You’re not a door key,” said Marvin. “You’re a good friend. If the other kids can’t see that, then that’s their problem.”

Marvin hoped he’d said the right thing. He didn’t think Joe should have to change. Still, he wondered if maybe he should have told him to change his clothes, at least.

Vanished