UNFORTUNATELY, EVEN AFTER GETTING by the Night Riders that afternoon and walking like maniacs the rest of the way, Oggie and I still ended up being late to Saturn.
I was glad to get there at all, I can tell you, but I couldn’t say that to Dad. He doesn’t like excuses. You’re either late or you aren’t, and that day we definitely were. Dad was completely disgusted with us, which made him not want to talk to us during the ride over to the ballpark.
He gets that way sometimes. Rather than just be mad at a person, he’ll give you the silent treatment for a while to sort of take it out on you.
So, he and Cyndi sat in the front seat and talked, and that left me and Oggie in the backseat. Oggie had gotten over the yeeks but still didn’t look too happy about things. A few days had gone by since I’d told him the last installment of The Mysterious Mole People, and I had some new ideas, so I whispered,
“Amory and Alphonse think they’ve found an entrance to the Mole kingdom. You want to hear about it?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t care that it’s a slurp hole that was left open by mistake? They found footholds dug into the sides. Footholds! You know what that means?”
Oggie just sat there.
“It means the Mysterious Mole People still have HUMAN FEET. Think of it, HUMAN FEET, after all this time crawling around like moles underground! Maybe they aren’t that changed from being human after all. Maybe they still speak English!”
Oggie didn’t answer. I could see he wasn’t very interested just at that moment, and I could see why. He was giving Cyndi the hairy eyeball because SHE was sitting up front with Dad.
Oggie usually sat up front so he could practice driving. Not real driving. Dad let him put his hand on the wheel to get the feel. Oggie was wild about doing this whenever he could. I could see how upset he was about Cyndi being in his place. Then Dad reached his arm around Cyndi and sort of pulled her in close. Oggie put on his pointy-eyed look, which means he might throw a fit anytime.
“Hey, Oggie, you know what?” I whispered.
“What.”
“I’ve been thinking I should make the Mysterious Mole People story into a book.”
Of course, I hadn’t been thinking that at all. I invented the idea on the spot to get Oggie’s mind off the front seat and bring him back to normal. It worked, though. Oggie kind of dropped his teeth and stared at me.
“You mean, make a REAL book?”
“Yup.”
“How can you? It’s not even written down.”
“I know, but it could be. It’s in my head.”
“I thought it would get wrecked if we told people. You said we should keep it secret.”
“Right. We should. Until it’s published. After that, it’s okay. You get a copyright so no one can steal the idea.”
Oggie’s eyes just shone out at me. “I bet a book could make a lot of money,” he whispered.
“Maybe.”
“Could it make enough to buy a car?”
I rolled my eyes at that. Oggie brings cars into everything. You can be talking about what to eat for dinner and he’ll start telling you how much gas a Jeep Cherokee eats up going from Boston to New York City in a snowstorm. He knows that stuff, honest to God. You have to take him seriously, too, or he gets furious.
“Buy a car? Sure, why not?” I said, like it was nothing at all. “After one book, they always want you to write another one. We could get a whole fleet of cars.”
“Wow!” Oggie said. He was impressed out of his mind.
I didn’t have a clue, really if a book could make enough to buy a car. I didn’t even care. Money was never a big issue with me. Whenever I had some, I spent it and didn’t think any more about it. That’s where Oggie and I are different.
Ever since he was about two, Oggie was interested in money. Everything he ever got, for his birthday or whatever, he saved. He hid it in an old Batman lunch box under his bed and would take it out and count it when he thought nobody was looking.
Then, when he was about five, Dad gave him twenty bucks for a present, and a red leather wallet to keep it in. Mom thought that was terrible. She said twenty bucks was too much for a kid Oggie’s age. But Dad said it wasn’t, that if somebody was interested in money, they should have some to be interested in. So Oggie got to keep it, and afterwards he kept all his money in the red wallet, which he loved. He couldn’t live without that wallet. Wherever he went, it went with him—with the money inside. Oggie didn’t believe in banks. On TV, they were always getting robbed at gunpoint.
When we got to the Blue Hawks ballpark, Dad started talking to us.
“Sit up and pay attention. Start looking for parking places,” he told us. He likes to go way up close to the stadium, even when we’re late, to get the nearest places. Mostly, there aren’t any left, but we go up anyway and wait around, blocking traffic and getting in people’s way.
“Hey, Dad, there’s a place!” Oggie yelled. We wheeled over. At the last minute, some other people took it. Dad was furious. He rolled down his window and started yelling at them, but Cyndi stopped him. She made him go back to where everybody else was coming in and park the way you’re supposed to. I kind of liked her for that. More than I usually did, I mean. Which, anyway, wasn’t much.
Finally, we got parked and went into the stadium. The game wasn’t bad. The Blue Hawks beat the Cougars, five to three. Oggie sat next to Dad. Cyndi went to the ladies’ rest room about twenty-five times. Well, maybe not twenty-five, but it seemed like it because every time she got up, she’d stomp on my foot with one of her big high heels.
“Oh, SWEETIE! I am SO-SO-SO-SO-SO-SO sorry,” she’d say. Cyndi actually talked that way. She couldn’t say anything just once. She had to say it a million times to make sure you believed her.
On the way home, since the Blue Hawks won, Dad was in a great mood. Oggie sat up front between him and Cyndi and got to put his hand on the wheel. He loved that. I can’t even begin to tell you how much he loved it. More than anything else in the world, Oggie wanted to learn to drive.
As soon as we were back in our room—we were at Saturn that night, even though it was a Jupiter night, because Dad had made a special appointment with Mom for the ball game—as soon as we were back, Oggie began to pester me to tell more about the Mysterious Mole People. He remembered what I’d said about making a real book and was excited to get on with it. But I held him off.
“You’re too happy,” I told him. “You got to drive and everything. You don’t need that story tonight.”
“Yes, I do!” he yelled. “I’m NOT happy. I need it!”
I didn’t give in. The way our family was, whenever there was a good time, you knew a bad time was probably headed for you next. I wanted to save the story for when we’d really need it.
Also, I had other plans for the evening and wanted Oggie to hurry up and go to bed, which he finally did, thanks to Bunny Two. Sometimes just looking at Bunny can make Oggie sleepy.
One thing I’m glad of is that when they make things like Bunny-Wunnies, they make a lot of them that all look alike. Because there will always be people like Oggie who need to have two.
For instance, what if a person lost the one he loved? Or what if it wore out or something and the person needed to find another one?
Some people make a big deal about only getting originals and never buying stuff that’s made in masses, but I’ll tell you, I think the more they make of something, the better. It’s a whole lot safer.