7. Cool at Last

Chapter 7 Cool at Last When I climbed onto the bus the next morning, Gus took one look at my feet and his eyes grew giant. "You got some!" he cried. We did one of our special secret handshakes. It's called high five, low five, foot five, no five. "How did you get those?" Gus asked. "What did you say to your parents?" "It wasn't my parents. It was my Great-aunt Imogene." "The one who sent you a teething ring on the Fourth of July?" "I don't know what happened. It's a total miracle," I said. "Last night my mom said I have to wait until my sneakers wear out before I can get a new pair," Gus said. "Then Babette threw up on her sweater." "Why do babies throw up so much?" I asked. "Dad says they're badly designed," Gus said.

He looked at my shoes with a sad but hopeful face. The way Goofy looks at a hamburger. "Don't worry," I said. "Your shoes will wear out in no time." Gus kicked at the seat in front of us. "I doubt it," he said. "You know what these sneakers are called?" I shook my head. He held up a foot so I could read the words on the side of his shoe. "Ruff and Tuffs," I read. "You've seen their ad, right?" Gus asked. I nodded. Poor Gus. We both said the ad words together: "Ruff and Tuffs. The shoes that refuse to die!" I don't know why, but I stuck my feet under the seat in front of me. It just felt like the right thing to do. As we walked to class, I kept hoping I'd see somebody with a pair of Walkie-Talkies on so I could try out mine. No luck. Those shoes were as rare as diamonds. Lots of kids pointed at my feet as I passed by.

Even big kids. The moment I walked into class, Coco saw my shoes and gasped. "Roscoe Riley!" she screamed. "Where did you get a pair of Walkie-Talkies?" "My Great-aunt Imogene," I said. "But where did she get them?" Coco demanded. "I don't know. She lives in New York City. Maybe they have a shoe store there." Coco seemed a little upset.

I think maybe it was because she didn't want to share any of her coolness. After all, she'd already had to share it with Hassan. When Hassan walked in, he saw my shoes and grinned. "Hey, Roscoe, let's try 'em out!" I tapped the button on my left toe. A fuzzy noise filled the air. It sounded like our car radio when Dad can't find a station to listen to. Hassan tapped his toe button too. Everybody gathered around to see the shoe show. I felt like a movie star. Or at least a guy with movie-star shoes. "It's easier if you sit down," Hassan said.

I sat on a chair. "Testing, one, two, three, four, testing," I said. And there was my voice, coming out of Hassan's foot! "Do you hear me?" Hassan asked his toe. Sure enough, his voice came out of my right shoe! Of course, I could hear him anyway. On account of he was standing right next to me. But still. It was about as amazing as shoes can get. I let everyone have a turn talking to my toe. It was the first time most of my classmates had gotten a chance to try Walkie-Talkies. Coco hadn't let anyone try out her shoes. But I kind of liked all the attention. Kind of a lot, actually. Ms. Diz rang her gong. That's the big bellish thing on her desk. She uses it to say Time to get to work, kids. So her voice doesn't get worn out. Usually the gong works. But today nobody paid any attention. There were too many kids waiting to talk to my toes.

Ms. Diz said, "I can see we're not going to get anywhere until you get this out of your systems. All right, everybody, line up to chat with Roscoe and Hassan's feet." I let Gus go first. "Hello," he said. "I wish I had a pair of these so we could talk to each other in class, Roscoe!" I started to tell Gus he could borrow my shoes anytime. But the other kids had already pushed him aside so they could have a turn. He probably wouldn't have heard me, anyway. There was a whole lot of foot talking going on.