CHAPTER 19

I had no time to make a good decision, so I just blurted out the first thing that popped into my mind.

“I’m in a Speed Clothes Changing contest,” I told Mrs. Fink. “Don’t tell my family, because I want to surprise them with the trophy.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Fink said. “How exciting. I’ll make you a lemon poppy-seed cake when you win.”

I pulled the top of my gi on and tied the belt just as my apartment door opened. It was my dad.

I tried to assume a really relaxed pose, like someone who had been sweating up a storm in his gi all afternoon.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hank, why didn’t you just come in?” he asked. “And why do you only have one shoe on?”

Whoops. I forgot about the shoe. Leave it to my dad to notice.

“I asked him to take it off,” Mrs. Fink said, “so I could see his sock. I think I found a matching one left in the dryer.”

Nice recovery, Mrs. Fink. Way to go.

“Oh,” my dad said. “Well, come on in, Hank. You can show me what you learned in karate.”

I glanced at Mrs. Fink as I went inside, and she gave me a big wink.

“Let me know when I should get started on the lemon cake,” she whispered.

Things didn’t go that much smoother inside the apartment. My dad meant it when he asked to see what I’d been learning in karate. He sat down in his rocking chair and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“So show me some karate,” he said.

“Well, first of all, Dad, it’s Tae Kwon Do.”

“Right,” he said. “You’ve mentioned that. So, have you learned any kicks or blocks you can show me?”

“Oh, all kinds,” I said. “But they’re not really things you can do by yourself. You need a sparring partner for that kind of thing.”

“Call up Frankie,” my dad said. “Maybe he’ll come up and you boys can show me what you’re learning.”

I went to the phone and dialed Frankie’s number.

“Hey,” I said when he answered the phone. “My dad wants us to show him what we’re learning in Tae Kwon Do. Can you come up?”

“Are you crazy, Zip? You’re not in Tae Kwon Do, therefore, you haven’t learned squat in Tae Kwon Do. What are we supposed to show him?”

I grinned at my dad, and gave him a thumbs-up sign.

“I know you have a lot of homework,” I said into the phone, “so we’ll just show him one or two moves and then you can get to work.”

“Listen, Zip,” Frankie said. “If you want to keep what you’re doing from your dad, that’s your business. But don’t get me in the middle of it. That is not fair.”

“Oh,” I said, looking at my dad. “That’s right. I forgot about the essay on the Constitution. Sure, I know you’ll be up all night finishing it.”

“You’re really something, Zip,” said Frankie. “Tell him whatever you want. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone and flopped down on the couch.

“No deal,” I said to my dad. “Frankie says he’d love to show you some stuff, but he has a lot of work to do on the social studies essay that’s due tomorrow.”

“What social studies essay?” my dad asked. “I didn’t know you had one due tomorrow.”

Uh-oh. Now I had really gotten myself into a corner. Of course, we didn’t have an essay due—I made it up on the phone with Frankie. But now my dad thought we did have an essay due the next day. And there’s nothing he likes better than to supervise me while I’m writing an essay.

If you think lying is easy, let me just tell you this. I had to spend the whole night in my room, writing an essay on the Constitution that was never even assigned.

I tell you, friends. Think twice before you tell your parents a story.