Puppet Wrangler (18 page)

I
knew
Laird had a crush on her! You should have heard him. “Well, I'm glad you caught me too, Zola. How can I help you?” He sounded like such a cool guy, you'd almost think he was used to talking to girls.

“I know it's short notice,” “Zola” said, “but we need a new Bitsie double.”

“No problem,” he went. “For when?”

“Monday morning by 6:30?” Bitsie made it sound like Zola was really apologetic for imposing. It was perfect.

Laird hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he could only do it if the molds were in good shape and he had the correct type of latex for the job on hand, etc. etc. etc. I was in agony.

I was kicking myself for wasting all that time crying and not thinking of this sooner. Finally, Laird said, “…but, yeah, I think I could get it done if I start right now.”

I got “Zola” to ask how much it would be. Laird did the old “Same as usual” but then, no doubt just to keep “Zola” on the phone a bit longer, he figured it out for her.

“It'll be $2036.42. That's including the tax.”

Now all I had to do was find the $2036.42.

51
I CAN COME UP WITH
DUMB IDEAS AS WELL AS
THE REST OF THEM.

It took me all night to figure out where to get the money. That's because I got stuck on the idea of having a bake sale.

How stupid was that? How many Rice Krispie squares was I going to have to sell by Monday morning to raise $2036.42? About a bazillion—and frankly, I didn't have a pan that big.

Then I thought of chocolate bar sales. That was stupid too. Our entire school sold chocolate bars for a month and all we got out of it was $864 and a lot of pimples.

Once I got back to the studio and raided the staff fridge I was able to think a bit more clearly. I guess I just needed to get my mind off food.

Busking was obviously out. So was blackmailing—despite Bitsie's “foolproof” plan to frame Mel. In fact, all of Bitsie's plans were out. They all involved something illegal—arson, smuggling, insurance fraud, grand theft auto, you name it.

When I said no to another one of his ideas,
⁷¹
Bitsie stomped off in a big huff to watch TV. Like this wasn't his problem too.

I needed to come up with some fast, easy way to make money. A paper route? Baby-sitting? Lawn-mowing? As far as I could see, nothing a twelve-year old could do brought in that type of money. It didn't seem fair. It was so easy for grown-ups. I thought about that woman who came up with the idea for a television series about doorknobs. It couldn't have taken her more than about six minutes to dream up something that lame, and Kathleen was about to give her $5000 for it!

Boy, that annoyed me—until I realized the possibilities.

⁷⁰
He actually suggested we try forging the Mona Lisa and selling it. The guy watches too much TV.

52
SEE?

My Home Is My Hovel
—A series that visits the homes of unbelievably messy people.

Wipe Your Feet First!
—A series that visits the homes of unbelievably neat people.

House of Horrors
—Got a neighbor you hate? Well, it's payback time. We'll surprise them with a free renovation. You pick the colors…

Live Like a King
—Every week we explore the home of a different family named King. Do they really live differently from the rest of us?

Homes of the Criminally Insane
—If you lived here, you'd go nuts too.

Was That You
?—A twenty-six part series about household odors.

Below-Bed Living
—For people who like lying under their beds and pretending the world does not exist.

Dirty Secrets
—Why spend all that time cleaning the house when, with a few simple techniques, you can learn to cover the grime?

By Sunday morning, I'd come up with a pile of ideas. A lot of them were pretty stupid. I just didn't know if they were the kind of stupid that got on TV or not. I decided to drag Bitsie away from the Shopping Channel for a few minutes to find out what he thought. He was an expert after all.

“Come up with a decorating show idea for Kathleen?!?” he said in this really snarky voice. “That's how you think you're going to make the money?!?”

I knew Bitsie was just being rude because I didn't like his idea about blackmailing Mel or stealing cars. But he was so sarcastic it really bugged me. He went, “Well, how about this, then? ‘Obsessive-Compulsive Home: For the Mentally Unstable Decorator'—Kathleen would lo-ove that one!”

Bitsie started laughing his head off. “Would you quit that?” I said. “You don't have to act like Kathleen's nuts just because she's particular about her living quarters. If you knew anything, you'd know there are lots of people like that!”

I was just making it sound like I knew more than he did because, frankly, I didn't like his attitude. But then I thought, Hey, I bet there are…

53
FOR SALE:
ONE SLIGHTLY USED KIDNEY.

Kathleen sounded a bit iffy at first. You could hardly blame her. Here was Laird MacAdam trying to sell her an interior design show. Believe me, Laird was hardly a guy you'd want to take decorating tips from—unless you really went for that black-walls-and-leftover-pizza look he seemed to like.

But it was the only way my plan would work. If Kathleen bought the series idea, she wouldn't just hand over a whack of cash. She'd write a check. So I had to get her to make it out to Laird so we could pay him for the new puppet double.

That meant Bitsie had to pretend he was Laird.

With a decorating idea.

Sure, it was a bit of a stretch, but we had no other choice—unless I wanted to sell a kidney, of course.
⁷²

I knew right away Kathleen was interested. “Obsessive-Compulsive Home” was perfect for her and all those other people out there whose coat hangers have to match their bedspreads. But she was hesitating. I thought maybe she didn't have the money, so I got Bitsie to say that normally he'd charge $5000 for a series idea, but for this weekend only he was offering it at the bargain-basement price of just $2036.42!

I really thought she was going to go for it this time, but then she said, “Laird, I'm sorry. I'm really interested in your idea but I don't know if I can make a decision right now. I'm too distracted. I haven't seen Telly all weekend.”

She noticed. I was so happy.

On second thought, she noticed! I was in trouble!

Kathleen was really blabbing away now. “I had a very, ahhhhh, ‘stressful' day Friday
⁷³
so I slept a lot this weekend.

I thought maybe Telly just went to bed after me and got up before me. She's very independent, you know. Very responsible. But now I'm starting to worry. Her bed doesn't look slept in. I wonder if I should call the police.”

The police!!!!

I shook my head wildly, and Bitsie said, “No, no. I wouldn't do that because…” then there was this really long pause while I scribbled down what to say next, “because I just saw Telly half an hour ago! She was staying with Zola this weekend and they came in to get some work done on Bitsie. In fact, she was the one who told me you were looking for ideas for a new series.”

Kathleen was so relieved she bought the idea on the spot.

I turned off the cell phone and smiled at Bitsie. How long since I'd done that?

⁷²
My parents were always pretty reasonable with me, but I figured they'd draw the line at me selling my organs.

⁷³
No kidding.

54
JUST LIKE ON
THE HEALTH CHANNEL.

There was just one more thing to do. Operate on Bitsie.

I thought it was going to be easy. I just had to take out his mecs and put them in the old puppet double. Bitsie'd seen it done a million times so he was going to walk me through it. He would have done it himself, of course, but those four-fingered foam hands of his weren't really suited to surgery.

The problem was I'd stepped on his head. Remember? I wasn't thinking about his mecs then. I was just thinking about getting him out that window. So all those little rods and springs that a normal puppet needs to move his eyes and flutter his eyelids were completely banged up. Ruined. Useless.

I admit it. I had a little cry about that. I was so tired by then. I just couldn't face one more thing.

Bitsie didn't hug me this time, but he did scamper off to the staff lounge and bring me some food. Somebody's lunch from 1995 by the looks of it, but I ate it anyway. You know that story about the Canadian doctor who let something go bad by mistake and then realized he'd discovered this amazing new medicine. It was like that. Maybe there's something in really, really old spaghetti that gives you superhuman energy. Or maybe I just needed a break. Or maybe it just seemed really stupid to give up now.

I don't know. But I scraped the fuzzy green stuff off and ate the spaghetti and suddenly I felt like I could do anything.

I got out Zola's toolbox. I saved what I could of Bitsie's mecs and found some rods and springs and screws in an old workshop. Anything I was still missing I scavenged from Ram. I knew he wasn't in Monday's show so I could fix him later. Bitsie and I crawled under the beach house set, where we wouldn't have to worry about the security guard finding us, and got to work.

By about two in the morning, we had the mecs in and the old double working about as well as Bitsie on a bad day. One eye didn't always close and the other one tended to wander off to the right, but he could have passed.

I could have got some sleep then, but I didn't. After everything Bitsie and I had put Zola and Kathleen through, we owed them a working puppet.

By quarter after six, that old double could do the Macarena better than Bitsie. Bitsie wasn't one hundred percent pleased with that, but I was proud of myself.

I went to the washroom to tidy up. That's when I realized that I still had those stupid braids on my head. I took them off and looked in the mirror. It was funny. My face hadn't changed, but I barely recognized myself. I had to say, “So this is me” a couple of times before it felt right.

But then it did feel right. It was a nice feeling, knowing who you are—for a while at least.

55
MORE OR LESS
THE WAY IT WENT.

I don't know if I'll ever figure out exactly what happened next. Everything went so fast and it was all such a shock, but I'll do my best to explain.

Laird arrived just like he said he would at 6:30 in the morning with the new Bitsie double, and I thought I was home free.

That was until Laird said he wanted to give it to Zola personally.

I couldn't believe it. Laird's stupid hopeless crush was going to ruin my life! My stomach went mushy. What was I going to do?

Laird had even shaved,
⁷⁴
so I knew he had no intention of leaving. In situations like that, you can't wait until a brilliant idea comes to you. You just have to do the best you can in the time you've got.

That's my excuse.

I told Laird that Zola had come down with a really bad case of diarrhea
⁷⁵
and wouldn't be in that day. I was just promising him that a check would be in the mail by the end of the week and pushing him out the door when who walks in but Zola.

Laird sucked his belly in and said, “Why, hello, feeling better are you?”

I thought it was all over then, but Zola said, “Sorry, Laird, I can't talk now. I've got to run!”

Laird, of course, understood, given her little “problem” and all, and I thought I was home free again, until I realized Zola had to run because Kathleen was at the end of the hall, waving at her to come.

I grabbed the puppet double, slammed the door behind Laird and raced after Zola. Kathleen was just saying, “Zola, I wanted to thank you for taking Telly.”

I thought it was all over again, but then Kathleen saw me and stopped and ran over and gave me a big hug. “I missed you,” she said, and this time I knew she meant it.

“I have this really neat series idea I wanted to talk to you about!”

I smiled. I couldn't honestly say I missed her—I'd been a little busy for that—but I was really glad to see her again.

“So, tell me,” she went on, “did the two of you have fun this weekend?”

And I thought it was all over again.

But before Zola could say, “I was away with my boyfriend,” Nick came flying in.

“Kathleen! I really need to talk to you!” he said. “Why weren't you answering your cell phone?”

Kathleen went, “Cell phone?!?” like “What's the matter with you? You were with me when I lost it.” Then Nick looked at me like “Didn't you give it back to her?” and I thought it was all over again, but he said, “It doesn't matter! Dorothy and Mitch caught the early plane to try and find Bess. They're going to be here any minute.”

My parents were coming!?! Bess was missing! Kathleen looked as shocked as I did.

Then Nick said, “And there's a commotion at the front desk you have to deal with.”

But the commotion wasn't at the front desk anymore. A second later it was in the hall with us and its name was Bess and it was screaming and elbowing a security guard in the head and running right for me.

“Telly! Telly! You're okay! You're okay!”

Bess practically knocked me over. She was hugging and kissing me, and that poor security guard was sort of caught in the middle, not sure if he should arrest Bess or hug her back. She was crying and babbling something about the e-mail I sent her and knowing right away I was going to do something I shouldn't and that it was all her fault because she'd been such a bad role model and seeing my picture in the paper and stealing her ex-boyfriend's father's Winnebago and driving nonstop to find me because she'd kill herself if anything ever happened to me.

And Kathleen and Zola and Nick were just cluing into what was going on and trying to find out more about that picture in the paper when my parents came barging in and saw Bess and me locked in this big wet hug.