10. Plum

Chapter 10 Plum When I woke up the next morning, there was a wet Wheaties flake on my nose. Max was standing by my bed. Holding a bowl of cereal. He tossed another Wheaties flake at me. I sat up and ate it. "Dad told me to wake you up," Max said. I yawned. "I couldn't sleep last night." "How come?" Max asked.

I pointed to my closet. "I think maybe there's a ghost in there," I said. "Cool," Max said. He slurped down more cereal. "Max," I said, "did you ever do anything bad so that something good would happen?" "Sure," Max said. "But the bad part always catches up with you. And then Dad and Mom make you sweep out the garage as punishment." I pulled the covers over my head. Sometimes big brothers really are right about stuff. Max yanked all the covers off me. Sometimes big brothers are right. But mostly they're just really annoying. At recess I didn't feel like playing.

Even though Gus found a dead toad with its guts gooing out. Which usually I wouldn't want to miss, of course. I sat on a swing. But I didn't actually swing. Down on the other end of the swing set, Wyatt was also not swinging. Ms. Diz came over. She was wearing a pink-and-green scarf. "Look at you two," she said. "You both seem awfully glum." "Plum?" I repeated. "Glum," Ms. Diz said. "Sad."

"I miss Bobo," Wyatt said. "When I got home yesterday, he was missing from my backpack. Just like Hamilton!" "I miss Hamilton," I said back. I gave him a look that said pig-napper. "My goodness," said Ms. Diz. "We're having quite an epidemic of disappearing animals!" She looked at me. Then she looked at Wyatt. Then she looked at both of us and shook her head. Wyatt just sat there. He didn't even have the heart to say a mean bully thing. He looked like I felt. Which was awfully plum.

The next morning was party day. But I was not feeling at all party-ful. I still did not have Hamilton back. And I still did have Bobo. "Roscoe?" Mom said as I headed out the door. "Are you sure you don't want to bring Geraldo to school today?" "Nope," I said. "Armadillos are not really party animals, Mom." As we walked toward the bus stop, I heard Max calling my name. "Hey, Roscoe," he yelled. "Heads up!" I turned around. Something blue and floppy was flying through the air. I caught it. It was a blue, dirty, droopy dog.

"Who's this?" I asked. "He looks kind of familiar." Max ran up to join me. "That's my dog. Blueberry." He unzipped my backpack. "Quick, put him in here before the bus comes." I squinted my eyes. "Wait a minute. You said you don't have a stuffed animal." Max shrugged and said, "Roscoe, Roscoe, Roscoe. When are you going to learn? You should only believe your big brother half the time." "Thanks, Max." I tried to give him a hug. He yanked away. "Bus, Roscoe," Max said. "Where's your pride, kid?" I opened my zipper. "So he can breathe," I explained.