the examining table.
“Try not to worry, Larry,” he said, handing my coat to me. “You’ll be okay.”
“Thank you, Dr. Murkin,” Dad said, climbing to his feet. He flashed the
doctor a smile, but I could see that it was forced. Dad still looked really
tense.
I followed Dad out to the parking lot. We didn’t say anything until we were
in the car and on the way home. “Feel better?” Dad asked, his eyes narrowed
straight ahead on the road.
“No,” I replied glumly.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked impatiently. “Dr. Murkin said you checked out
fine.”
“What about the ugly black hair?” I demanded angrily. “What about it? Why
didn’t he do anything about it? Do you think he didn’t believe me?”
“I’m sure he believed you,” Dad said softly.
“Then why didn’t he do anything to help me?” I wailed.
Dad didn’t reply for the longest time. He stared straight through the
windshield, chewing his lower lip. Then, finally, he said in a hushed voice,
“Sometimes the best thing is to wait.”
We met at Lily’s house for band practice that afternoon. We sounded pretty
good—but it wasn’t the same without Manny.
We were all really upset that he had moved away without saying good-bye. Lily
asked her mom to call some friends who were friendly with Manny’s parents. She
wanted to find out where Manny and his family had moved.
But the friends turned out to be as surprised as we were.
We couldn’t find anyone who knew that Manny’s family planned to move from our
town.
I have to admit that our songs sounded better with two guitars instead of
three. Lily has a very light singing voice—not much power. And three guitars
nearly always drowned her out.
With Manny gone, we could actually hear Lily some of the time.
I kept messing up the Beatles song we were rehearsing—“I Want to Hold Your
Hand.” I played the wrong chords and couldn’t get the rhythm right.
I knew what the trouble was. I couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. Murkin and
how he didn’t believe me about the hair. He said it wasn’t the INSTA-TAN. But
maybe he was wrong.
I felt so angry—and so… alone.
Glancing around Lily’s living room as we started “I Want to Hold Your Hand”
for the twentieth time, I studied my friends. Were they having the same problem?
Were they growing ugly, black hair, too, and afraid to tell anyone?
The first time I had asked, Lily had laughed at me and called me Hairy Larry.
But I had to ask again. I couldn’t think about anything else. I had to know the
truth.
I waited till practice was over. Kristina was tucking her guitar into its
case. Jared went into the kitchen to get a Coke from the fridge. Lily was
standing beside the couch, one hand twirling the gold pirate coin at her throat.
“I—I have to ask you something,” I said nervously when Jared returned to
the room.
He popped the top on the can, and a spray of Coke hit him in the face.
Everyone laughed.
“Can’t you work a Coke can?” Lily joked. “Do you need an instruction book?”
“Ha-ha,” Jared replied sarcastically, wiping his face with his sleeve. “You
deliberately shook the cans, Lily, so people would get squirted. Admit it.”
Kristina laughed as she snapped her guitar case shut. “Maybe you should stick
to juice boxes, Jared.”
He stuck out his tongue at her.
I cleared my throat loudly. “I want to ask you guys something,” I repeated in
a shaky voice.
They were all in a great mood, laughing and kidding around. They all seemed
totally normal.
Why was I the only one who felt worried and afraid?
“Remember the INSTA-TAN stuff?” I started. “Have any of you been growing hair
since we put that stuff on?” I could feel my face turning red. “I mean, really
ugly patches of black hair?”
Jared started to laugh, and Coke spurted out of his nose. He started to
choke. Kristina hurried over to slap him on the back.
“Hairy Larry!” Jared cried when he stopped choking. He pointed the
“Try not to worry, Larry,” he said, handing my coat to me. “You’ll be okay.”
“Thank you, Dr. Murkin,” Dad said, climbing to his feet. He flashed the
doctor a smile, but I could see that it was forced. Dad still looked really
tense.
I followed Dad out to the parking lot. We didn’t say anything until we were
in the car and on the way home. “Feel better?” Dad asked, his eyes narrowed
straight ahead on the road.
“No,” I replied glumly.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked impatiently. “Dr. Murkin said you checked out
fine.”
“What about the ugly black hair?” I demanded angrily. “What about it? Why
didn’t he do anything about it? Do you think he didn’t believe me?”
“I’m sure he believed you,” Dad said softly.
“Then why didn’t he do anything to help me?” I wailed.
Dad didn’t reply for the longest time. He stared straight through the
windshield, chewing his lower lip. Then, finally, he said in a hushed voice,
“Sometimes the best thing is to wait.”
We met at Lily’s house for band practice that afternoon. We sounded pretty
good—but it wasn’t the same without Manny.
We were all really upset that he had moved away without saying good-bye. Lily
asked her mom to call some friends who were friendly with Manny’s parents. She
wanted to find out where Manny and his family had moved.
But the friends turned out to be as surprised as we were.
We couldn’t find anyone who knew that Manny’s family planned to move from our
town.
I have to admit that our songs sounded better with two guitars instead of
three. Lily has a very light singing voice—not much power. And three guitars
nearly always drowned her out.
With Manny gone, we could actually hear Lily some of the time.
I kept messing up the Beatles song we were rehearsing—“I Want to Hold Your
Hand.” I played the wrong chords and couldn’t get the rhythm right.
I knew what the trouble was. I couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. Murkin and
how he didn’t believe me about the hair. He said it wasn’t the INSTA-TAN. But
maybe he was wrong.
I felt so angry—and so… alone.
Glancing around Lily’s living room as we started “I Want to Hold Your Hand”
for the twentieth time, I studied my friends. Were they having the same problem?
Were they growing ugly, black hair, too, and afraid to tell anyone?
The first time I had asked, Lily had laughed at me and called me Hairy Larry.
But I had to ask again. I couldn’t think about anything else. I had to know the
truth.
I waited till practice was over. Kristina was tucking her guitar into its
case. Jared went into the kitchen to get a Coke from the fridge. Lily was
standing beside the couch, one hand twirling the gold pirate coin at her throat.
“I—I have to ask you something,” I said nervously when Jared returned to
the room.
He popped the top on the can, and a spray of Coke hit him in the face.
Everyone laughed.
“Can’t you work a Coke can?” Lily joked. “Do you need an instruction book?”
“Ha-ha,” Jared replied sarcastically, wiping his face with his sleeve. “You
deliberately shook the cans, Lily, so people would get squirted. Admit it.”
Kristina laughed as she snapped her guitar case shut. “Maybe you should stick
to juice boxes, Jared.”
He stuck out his tongue at her.
I cleared my throat loudly. “I want to ask you guys something,” I repeated in
a shaky voice.
They were all in a great mood, laughing and kidding around. They all seemed
totally normal.
Why was I the only one who felt worried and afraid?
“Remember the INSTA-TAN stuff?” I started. “Have any of you been growing hair
since we put that stuff on?” I could feel my face turning red. “I mean, really
ugly patches of black hair?”
Jared started to laugh, and Coke spurted out of his nose. He started to
choke. Kristina hurried over to slap him on the back.
“Hairy Larry!” Jared cried when he stopped choking. He pointed the
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