tighten up Alex’s boxers, which kept falling down. As soon as she left, the other shrubs turned to me. Or rather, on me.
“Strang, you’ve got to do something about your mother. If we go out onstage dressed in these outfits, we’re never going tolive it down. Brudhauser will torture us for the rest of our lives,” Max said.
“Yeah, Strang—you may not mind looking like a geek, but we don’t want to,” said Greg.
“We’re wasting our time talking to him about this,” said Henry, jerking his thumb toward me. “Look at him; he’s as weird as she is.”
“Good point. Strang and his mom already messed up poor Fennimore here. Let’s get out of here before she does the same to us. Come on, Fennimore—you’ve suffered enough.”
The five of them took off their costumes and went back to the classroom, leaving me behind. It was so unfair. My haircut made me a geek, but Fennimore’s haircut made him “poor Fennimore,” just another sorry victim of those horrible Strangs. My mother returned a minute later with the safety pins.
“What’s the matter? Where is everyone?” she asked when she saw the look on my face.
“Where does it look like they are? They’re gone, Mom.”
“To the bathroom, you mean?” she asked.
“No. They left for good.”
“Why on earth would they do that?”
“Why? Because they’re afraid of us, that’s why. They think we’re weird. And you know what? They’re right.”
“Oh, pooh. I know people think I’m a little left of center, but you? You’re as normal as apple pie, sweet pleat.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget where the apples for that pie came from,” I said. “Face it, I’m doomed for life, Mom. Doomed and bald.”
“You’re not bald,” said a familiar twangy voice behind me. “Besides, according to this fashion magazine my mama showed me last night, the buzz cut is back. We’re not dweebs—we’re hip, Guy. And you know what? So are these wild costumes, if you ask me.”
I turned around and watched in amazement as Fennimore walked over to the pileof costumes on the table and pulled on a cape and bathing cap. “How do I look?” he asked my mother.
She adjusted his cape a little and pulled the cap down lower on his forehead.
He looked ridiculous.
“Perfect,” she said. Then she handed him a pair of boxer shorts. He started to put them on, but then he stopped. “Mrs. Strang,” he said, “you’re the boss. So if you tell us that shrubs have to wear green underwear onstage, I’ll do it, and I think Guy will go along with that too. Right, Guy?”
He looked at me. I shrugged, and he continued. “But if you ask me, I don’t think the rest of those guys are going to go along with it. That means Guy and I would be the only shrubs.”
“That would be a shame,” my mother said, sadly surveying the pile of costumes she’d worked so hard on.
“But I have a suggestion,” Fennimore went on. “Instead of boxers, what do youthink of green sweatpants ?”
“Hey, that’s a great idea!” I said.
“What do you think, Mrs. Strang?” asked Fennimore.
My mom looked at Fennimore and smiled. Then she ran her hand gently over the top of his fuzzy head.
“I think green sweatpants are wonderful,” she said. “And so, Fennimore Adams, are you.”
Chapter Thirteen
A loud bang made me jump. It was the double doors of the emergency room swinging open. A nurse pushed a hospital gurney out of the room. Buzz was lying on it, looking pale and still, and Mrs. and Mr. Adams were walking next to it.
“Is he okay?” I asked, jumping up and running over to them. “Is he okay?”
Buzz looked awful. Tubes were running up his nose, and there were needles taped to the backs of his hands. Some sort of machine beeped and hissed, and bags of clear liquid hung from poles on both sides of the gurney. At first I thought his eyes were shut, but then I saw that they were open just a slit, and Icould see them moving back and forth.
“He’s awake!” I cried.
“Strang, you’ve got to do something about your mother. If we go out onstage dressed in these outfits, we’re never going tolive it down. Brudhauser will torture us for the rest of our lives,” Max said.
“Yeah, Strang—you may not mind looking like a geek, but we don’t want to,” said Greg.
“We’re wasting our time talking to him about this,” said Henry, jerking his thumb toward me. “Look at him; he’s as weird as she is.”
“Good point. Strang and his mom already messed up poor Fennimore here. Let’s get out of here before she does the same to us. Come on, Fennimore—you’ve suffered enough.”
The five of them took off their costumes and went back to the classroom, leaving me behind. It was so unfair. My haircut made me a geek, but Fennimore’s haircut made him “poor Fennimore,” just another sorry victim of those horrible Strangs. My mother returned a minute later with the safety pins.
“What’s the matter? Where is everyone?” she asked when she saw the look on my face.
“Where does it look like they are? They’re gone, Mom.”
“To the bathroom, you mean?” she asked.
“No. They left for good.”
“Why on earth would they do that?”
“Why? Because they’re afraid of us, that’s why. They think we’re weird. And you know what? They’re right.”
“Oh, pooh. I know people think I’m a little left of center, but you? You’re as normal as apple pie, sweet pleat.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget where the apples for that pie came from,” I said. “Face it, I’m doomed for life, Mom. Doomed and bald.”
“You’re not bald,” said a familiar twangy voice behind me. “Besides, according to this fashion magazine my mama showed me last night, the buzz cut is back. We’re not dweebs—we’re hip, Guy. And you know what? So are these wild costumes, if you ask me.”
I turned around and watched in amazement as Fennimore walked over to the pileof costumes on the table and pulled on a cape and bathing cap. “How do I look?” he asked my mother.
She adjusted his cape a little and pulled the cap down lower on his forehead.
He looked ridiculous.
“Perfect,” she said. Then she handed him a pair of boxer shorts. He started to put them on, but then he stopped. “Mrs. Strang,” he said, “you’re the boss. So if you tell us that shrubs have to wear green underwear onstage, I’ll do it, and I think Guy will go along with that too. Right, Guy?”
He looked at me. I shrugged, and he continued. “But if you ask me, I don’t think the rest of those guys are going to go along with it. That means Guy and I would be the only shrubs.”
“That would be a shame,” my mother said, sadly surveying the pile of costumes she’d worked so hard on.
“But I have a suggestion,” Fennimore went on. “Instead of boxers, what do youthink of green sweatpants ?”
“Hey, that’s a great idea!” I said.
“What do you think, Mrs. Strang?” asked Fennimore.
My mom looked at Fennimore and smiled. Then she ran her hand gently over the top of his fuzzy head.
“I think green sweatpants are wonderful,” she said. “And so, Fennimore Adams, are you.”
Chapter Thirteen
A loud bang made me jump. It was the double doors of the emergency room swinging open. A nurse pushed a hospital gurney out of the room. Buzz was lying on it, looking pale and still, and Mrs. and Mr. Adams were walking next to it.
“Is he okay?” I asked, jumping up and running over to them. “Is he okay?”
Buzz looked awful. Tubes were running up his nose, and there were needles taped to the backs of his hands. Some sort of machine beeped and hissed, and bags of clear liquid hung from poles on both sides of the gurney. At first I thought his eyes were shut, but then I saw that they were open just a slit, and Icould see them moving back and forth.
“He’s awake!” I cried.
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