Tommy Puke and the Boy with the Golden Barf by Robert T. Jeschonek Page A
Authors: Robert T. Jeschonek
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From here to that fountain of slime!" I start running as hard as I can. "Last one there is a rotten egg!"
It was friendship.
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*****
Chapter 22
The next day, things get back to normal...for a while, at least. The only obvious change, as I wake up and go to school, is that I'm waaaay more tired than usual. Blame it on Tommy and Chon gand a, for keeping me in Effluvium p ast my bedtime. Blame it on me, too, I guess, for having so much fun, I didn't want to leave.
By the time I crossed back over to the real world, walked home, apologized up and down to Mom and Dad for disappearing off the face of the Earth (literally!), and got in bed, it was past midnight.
So I'm dragging all day, even dozing off in math class. People talk to me, and I don't hear them. I feel like I'm in a constant daze, asleep with my eyes open.
But you better believe I snap out of it when it's time to ride the bus home. Beca use I'm pretty sure I know what's going to happen next. In fact, I'm counting on it.
Sure enough, the three bullies are on the bus like always, staring dagger s at me f rom the back seats. I must look like easy pickings to them, without Tommy by my side. Sweet revenge is so close, I'll bet they're drooling just thinking about it.
As expected, they get off the bus at my stop. That's okay, because I've got a surprise waiting for them.
They've got a surprise waiting for me, too , though . As I start down the sidewalk, three other guys step out from behind a tall hedge and block the way. They're all musclebound giants in red and black letterman's jackets that scream "football players." I don't know th em, but I can tell they're high- schoolers--sophomores or juniors, at least. They crack their knuckles and flash their nastiest sneers at me, letting me know their brutal plans without saying a word.
I stop in my tracks and stare back at them. Normally, I'd be shaking like a vibrating phone in an earthquake, but I don't even shiver a little. These goons don't scare me a bit, not anymore. They're the ones who should be worried, not me.
Because I'm the one with the gift from Chonganda.
But they don't know that yet. Brendan, the leader of the eighth-grade bully squad, is talking like a winner when he sidles up behind me. "What's the matter, Jiggles? Don't you want to meet my brother, Duke?"
The biggest high-schooler, the one in the middle, points an index finger at me. "So you're that Jiggles kid, huh? Brendan's told me so much about you."
"Hey, Jigs." This time, it's Red speaking behind me. "Say hello to my brother, Bomber."
One of the high-schoolers has fiery red hair. It figures he's related to Red. "I heard what you did to my bro yesterday, cripple. That's some radical moves, man."
"Hey, Bomber," says Duke. "That Jiggles kid isn't a cripple."
"Not yet , he isn't." When Bomber says that, everyone laughs.
Except me. I just stand there and bide my time, letting them have their fun, waiting for my moment.
Now who's the one drooling at the thought of revenge?
The third high-schooler is the next to chime in. He's a little skinnier than the other two, and his posture is awful. "Did you know Crick has an older brother, too? Name's Shane." He's so stooped-over, he looks like a vulture choking down a marmot when he talks. "I'll bet you wouldn't've been so quick to take a shot at my boy if you'd known he had a hard-core b ro like me, huh?"
"You know they came after me first, don't you? But I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." I already know what the answer to my next question will be, but hey: can't say I don't give them a chance to back off. "Why don't we just call it even and walk away?"
That makes them all laugh even harder than they did at the cripple joke. Bomber actually doubles over and shakes his head, it's so hilarious.
"You're a funny kid, Jiggles." Duke pounds his fist in the palm of his hand and starts toward me. "Let's see what other funny jokes you come up with while we're puttin' you through the
It was friendship.
Â
*****
Chapter 22
The next day, things get back to normal...for a while, at least. The only obvious change, as I wake up and go to school, is that I'm waaaay more tired than usual. Blame it on Tommy and Chon gand a, for keeping me in Effluvium p ast my bedtime. Blame it on me, too, I guess, for having so much fun, I didn't want to leave.
By the time I crossed back over to the real world, walked home, apologized up and down to Mom and Dad for disappearing off the face of the Earth (literally!), and got in bed, it was past midnight.
So I'm dragging all day, even dozing off in math class. People talk to me, and I don't hear them. I feel like I'm in a constant daze, asleep with my eyes open.
But you better believe I snap out of it when it's time to ride the bus home. Beca use I'm pretty sure I know what's going to happen next. In fact, I'm counting on it.
Sure enough, the three bullies are on the bus like always, staring dagger s at me f rom the back seats. I must look like easy pickings to them, without Tommy by my side. Sweet revenge is so close, I'll bet they're drooling just thinking about it.
As expected, they get off the bus at my stop. That's okay, because I've got a surprise waiting for them.
They've got a surprise waiting for me, too , though . As I start down the sidewalk, three other guys step out from behind a tall hedge and block the way. They're all musclebound giants in red and black letterman's jackets that scream "football players." I don't know th em, but I can tell they're high- schoolers--sophomores or juniors, at least. They crack their knuckles and flash their nastiest sneers at me, letting me know their brutal plans without saying a word.
I stop in my tracks and stare back at them. Normally, I'd be shaking like a vibrating phone in an earthquake, but I don't even shiver a little. These goons don't scare me a bit, not anymore. They're the ones who should be worried, not me.
Because I'm the one with the gift from Chonganda.
But they don't know that yet. Brendan, the leader of the eighth-grade bully squad, is talking like a winner when he sidles up behind me. "What's the matter, Jiggles? Don't you want to meet my brother, Duke?"
The biggest high-schooler, the one in the middle, points an index finger at me. "So you're that Jiggles kid, huh? Brendan's told me so much about you."
"Hey, Jigs." This time, it's Red speaking behind me. "Say hello to my brother, Bomber."
One of the high-schoolers has fiery red hair. It figures he's related to Red. "I heard what you did to my bro yesterday, cripple. That's some radical moves, man."
"Hey, Bomber," says Duke. "That Jiggles kid isn't a cripple."
"Not yet , he isn't." When Bomber says that, everyone laughs.
Except me. I just stand there and bide my time, letting them have their fun, waiting for my moment.
Now who's the one drooling at the thought of revenge?
The third high-schooler is the next to chime in. He's a little skinnier than the other two, and his posture is awful. "Did you know Crick has an older brother, too? Name's Shane." He's so stooped-over, he looks like a vulture choking down a marmot when he talks. "I'll bet you wouldn't've been so quick to take a shot at my boy if you'd known he had a hard-core b ro like me, huh?"
"You know they came after me first, don't you? But I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." I already know what the answer to my next question will be, but hey: can't say I don't give them a chance to back off. "Why don't we just call it even and walk away?"
That makes them all laugh even harder than they did at the cripple joke. Bomber actually doubles over and shakes his head, it's so hilarious.
"You're a funny kid, Jiggles." Duke pounds his fist in the palm of his hand and starts toward me. "Let's see what other funny jokes you come up with while we're puttin' you through the
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