It's Raining Benjamins (11 page)

Now Chunky starts talking, telling us that he will be working with us to coordinate our studio sessions with Mouse, and handling everything else that needs to be done.

“Why don't you girls tell us a little about yourselves?” Mouse suggests, then leans back into his chair like a Big Willy. He doesn't look like a Mouse at all. I wonder how he got his name….

“Well,” Bubbles says, speaking up for us. “We're wanna-be stars in the jiggy jungle, I guess.”

Haruko does that laugh again, which makes me laugh, too. Bubbles looks at me, but I'm sorry—I can't help it.

“How did you girls hook up?” Chunky asks, curious.

“Chuchie, I mean, Chanel and I have been friends since we were born. See, our mothers used to be models together, and then my mom became Chanel's godmother and everything.”

“Chanel and Galleria and I all go to the same high school—Fashion Industries East,” Dorinda says, smiling and showing off her cute little dimples.

“And we met
them
at the Kats and Kittys Klub!” Aqua explains enthusiastically. “We wuz singing by the barbecue grill, and they just
loved
us!”

Now Bubbles and I start laughing loudly—because that's not exactly true. Aqua is telling a fib-eroni. Bubbles
hated
her and Angie at first, because she thought they were show-offs.

Actually, I think Bubbles was just kinda jealous, because we'd never been asked to sing at a Kats and Kittys party, and we're from New York. Then here come Angie and Aqua, straight out of Houston, and they just kinda take over,
está bien
?

After we blab some more about our music, Mr. Freddy Fudge is back down to business. “What I will need is for you and the girls to sign an agreement. It states that Def Duck is providing the financial arrangements for a demo tape, but we're under no obligation to give you a record deal until such time as we deem it viable to enter into such an agreement.”

“I'll have my lawyer look it over, and get back to you,”
Madrina
says, like a real manager.

“Okay,” Mr. Fudge says, rising from the table and reaching over to shake
Madrina
's hand.

We say good-bye to everyone fifty times. As we're leaving, Dorinda turns to Haruko and says, “Thank you for the soda. Um, I like your name.”

Haruko laughs that funny laugh of hers again, and replies, “I like yours, too.”

“What does yours mean?” Dorinda asks curiously, looking around at us to make sure she's not holding up anything.

“It means ‘child born in the spring' in Japanese,” Haruko says, beaming like she's really happy someone asked her something about herself. “What does yours mean, Dorinda?”

“‘God's gift,'” Dorinda says, smiling back.

Madrina
puts her arms around Dorinda and says, “Come on, ‘God's gift.' Let's go eat a well-deserved early dinner.”

We all wave good-bye to each other fifty more times, before we finally head back down to the lobby, where Mr. Golden Duck Statue is still standing.

Bubbles waves good-bye to the statue. “Good-bye, Mr. Ducky, you made us feel lucky!” she says.

“Hey! That's a song!” I exclaim, feeling like I'm sitting on top of the world.

“That's
not
a song, Chuchie,” Bubbles says, giggling. But she's really nice about it, and puts her arm around me.

I guess she's right—that would be a stupid song. Still, I'm so excited about the fact that Bubbles and I wrote a song together that I tell
Madrina
all about it as we walk down the street.

“I like it!”
Madrina
says, when I tell her the words to the refrain. “God knows we could use a cash money shower right about now—even if it's only a shower of George Washingtons!”

Chapter
10

Y
ou know,”
Madrina
says as we stand on the corner, waiting for the light to change, “if this all works out, I'm going to talk to the record company executives about recording some of
your
songs.”

“That's a done deal-io!” Bubbles says excitedly.

“You know, at the end of the day in this business, it's all about publishing rights,”
Madrina
says, getting serious. “That's where the real money falls from the sky.”

“Publishing rights—what are they?” Dorinda asks.

“Well,”
Madrina
explains, “the person who
writes
the song collects publishing royalties for as long as the song sells, is played on the radio, gets used for motion picture sound tracks or television commercials—you name it, there's a way to claim publishing payments.”

“Word? That's dope!” Dorinda says. And now I can see that the songwriting wheels are turning in
her
head, too.

“Well, we've got to try to get every ducket in the bucket,” Bubbles says emphatically. Then she turns to me. “Chuchie, we're gonna have to work on our song some more, you know?”

“
Yo sé, mamacita
!” I say enthusiastically.

“What time do we have to be at your house on Saturday?” she asks me.

“Noon, I guess,” I say wistfully, because it suddenly hits me that I still don't have a present for Pucci. And now that the day is almost here, I realize that I can't just get him
nada
, like I said.

“
Madrina
, do you think I could have my paycheck today instead of Saturday?” I ask, in my sweetest voice.

For working three afternoons at Toto in New York … Fun in Diva Sizes, I get forty dollars a week—half of which I have to give to Mom to pay back the charges I sneaked on her credit card like a
babosa
.

“I think we can arrange something,”
Madrina
says. “You're buying Pucci a birthday present?” she asks excitedly.

“Well, I guess,” I say, kinda puzzled.

“Chuchie, here,” Bubbles says, taking some money out of her cheetah wallet and stuffing it into my hand.

I must be dreaming, because Bubbles wouldn't give me money if the sky was falling.

“
Qué es esto
?” I ask Bubbles, my voice squeaking. “What's this?”

“It's the money from the chokers. You can have it, all right?” Bubbles turns to the twins and Dorinda for their approval.

“That's fine with us,” Aqua pipes up. “I mean, come on, Chanel, you gotta give your brother more than a birthday card for his birthday! Ain't that right, Angie?”

“Yes, ma'am, that's right,” Angie replies.

“Don't worry. We're gonna keep track of all the money, the way Mom does for the store,” Bubbles says, pulling out a cheetah notebook out of a paper bag. “You can pay us back our share later—after you get done paying back your mother.” She turns to Dorinda. “Do' Re Mi, why don't you keep the book on it?”

Dorinda's face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Word! I'll keep track of everything!”

“Good—'cuz quiet as it's kept, you're the brains behind the Cheetah Girls operation,” Bubbles says proudly.

I can't believe how humble Galleria's being. That's not
like
her.
Es la verdad
—it's the truth!

“I'll go with you to buy Pucci a pet,” Bubbles volunteers.

“What pet is that, darling?”
Madrina
asks, because she knows Mom does not like pets—unless it's a Chia Pet that just has to be watered!

“Chuchie's gonna buy Pucci a hog!” Bubbles says mischievously.

“Now, I
know
that must be some Cheetah Girls joke, because Juanita will ground Chanel for the rest of her life if it isn't!”
Madrina
says sternly.

“Bubbles doesn't mean a real hog,
Madrina
—it's an African pygmy hedgehog,” I try to explain.

“Chanel,
that
sounds even worse—like some kind of animal used for a voodoo ritual or something!”
Madrina
says, looking alarmed. “Listen, Chanel, you two work this out over dinner, because I'm getting so hungry I may just eat a pygmy whatever-it-is!”

We all eat like we're starving for Marvin. After,
Madrina
says, “I'm heading home. I've got work to do. Galleria, I'll see you later. And don't bring back a pet with more growl power than you girls have.” With a wave, she heads off toward the subway station.

“We'll come with y'all to the pet store if you want,” Aqua volunteers.

I guess we're all in such a good mood because of the meeting—and the
lonchando
—that we don't want to leave each other just yet. After all, there'll be plenty of time for homework and headaches later.

“I can come, too,” Do' Re Mi chimes in. And that settles it. We all take off down the street, singing “Shop in the Name of Love”—one of Galleria's tunes—at the top of our lungs.

The Exotica Pet Store on Tenth Avenue looks like a jungle paradise. Still, the snakes in the big glass case don't look like they're exactly having a ball. They seem like they're kinda cramped—and not too happy about it either.

“Too bad they don't have any dogs here,” I moan, looking around at all the exotic pets. I see a sign that says, WE'VE GOT REPTILES—NOT POODLES—SO DON'T ASK!

“Chuchie, Mom is right,” Bubbles says firmly. “Well be lucky if we can pull off this charade—giving Pucci a pet that fits in the palm of his hand.”

“I'll tell you one thing,” I shoot back. “We'd never get away with a dog!”

“Oooh, what kind of fish is that?” Dorinda asks, pressing her nose against the fish tank to ogle a bright-yellow fish with blue lips.

“Miss, don't lean on the fish tanks!” snaps a snarly salesman with wild curly red hair and big black glasses.

“Okay, Mr. Magoo,” Dorinda mumbles under her breath, then, more loudly, asks again, “I just wanted to know what kind of fish this is—that's
all
.”

“That's a blue-lipped angelfish, okay?”

Now I'm getting nervous, because Mr. Magoo is kinda mean.

“Bubbles,
you
ask him,” I whisper. She's not afraid to stand up to grown-ups who are nasty and
antipático
.

“We want to see an African pygmy hedgehog, please,” Bubbles says with authority.

Dorinda pulls my sleeve and says, “We gotta make sure it's a baby, though—because they only live to be six years old.”

“Okay.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Magoo is standing there, waiting for us to finish whispering. “You ready, or what?”

“Yes, sir. We want a baby one, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everybody wants a baby. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with these animals when they're more than a day old,” Mr. Magoo huffs, throwing us a dirty look. “They're over there in the cage by the wall. Next to the guinea pigs.”

“Oh, that's good!” Aqua says, getting excited. The twins have two guinea pigs for pets—Porgy and Bess—and they're really cute.

“He is so mean, I don't know if we should buy a pet here. Maybe he abuses the animals,” I say as we hightail it to the back of the store.

“Don't worry, the animals probably just ignore him and eat their carrots in peace,” Bubbles replies. “It's not like they're dogs or cats, Chuchie.”

“Ooh,
mira
, look!” I exclaim, when I see a bunch of little brown creatures sitting in their cage, just staring up at us.

Mr. Magoo is right behind us and snarls, “Lemme open the cage, all right?” Next thing I know, he puts a hedgehog in my hand, warning, “The spines are very sharp—so don't go scaring him.”

“Can we have a girl one?” Dorinda asks.

“No, Do‘—it's for Pucci, not us,” Bubbles reminds her.

“Oooh, look at how he's scratching my hand!” I coo. I love him already!

“What do they eat?” Angie asks.

“They like insects, frogs, mice,” Mr. Magoo says in a huffy tone, like we're stupid or something.

“How much is it?” I ask nervously.

“Forty-two bucks.”

I look at Bubbles, and my eyes are saying
ayúdame
! “I only have forty dollars.”

“I'll put in the rest,” Bubbles volunteers.

“Is that it?” Mr. Magoo asks.

“Yes, sir!” I say excitedly.

Wait till Mom sees Mr. Pygmy! If I was buying the hoglet for me, I would be worried, but she is not gonna say no to Pucci. Not on his birthday—not in front of Abuela Florita—and definitely not in front of Dad!

“Ain't you gonna get a cage, Chanel?” Aqua asks, concerned.

“Oh! I forgot about that,” I say nervously. “Sir, do they poop in the cage?” Dorinda snickers.

“You can train them to use a litter box if you want,” Mr. Magoo says.

Bubbles whips out her Miss Wiggy StarWac cell phone. “I'm calling Mom,” she informs us. “Mom, can I borrow—wait a minute. Sir, how much is the cage?”

“Twenty-seven fifty,” Mr. Magoo says.

“Mom, can I borrow twenty-seven fifty? We're still at the pet store, and we've gotta get Pucci a cage for the, um, hoggy…. Okay,
okay
.”

Bubbles hands the phone to Mr. Magoo. “My mom is charging the cage.” Then she turns to me, and says proudly, “The cage is on me. After all, I've gotta get Pucci something, too—since he did invite me to his party.”

“How are you gonna pay for it?” I ask softly. Now I feel so guilty for fighting with Bubbles!

“Mom is holding the money I have left from our first gig, at the Kats and Kittys Club. Now I have nothing left.”

I feel like crying, but I stammer, “I-I can't believe you had money left and you didn't tell me!”

“Why, Chuchie? So you could spend it?” Bubbles asks, laughing. Then she gives me a hug.

“Thank you, Bubbles. Pucci is gonna be so happy—because we are both his sisters.”