Charlie Bumpers vs. the Perfect Little Turkey (4 page)

“Now you know what it’s like to have a younger brother,” he said with a satisfied smile.

“I’m nowhere near as bad as Chip! He won’t sleep on the air mattress and he’s taken over my bed. He’s following me around everywhere, and Dad yelled at me for kicking the ball against the garage.”

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Matt said.

“I didn’t! Chip did it and Dad blamed me.”

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Chip is a ‘perfect little angel.’ Just ask Mom and Gams and Aunt Sarah.” He gave me his evil older brother grin.

“He is not! He’s a perfect little
turkey!
What should I do?”

“Just try and ignore him,” Matt said. “Like this.” He put the headphones back on, hit Play, and stared at the ceiling again.

“Thanks a lot!” I yelled at him.

“You’re welcome!” he yelled back.

When Dad came back with the pizza, we all piled into the kitchen. By that time, Uncle Brandon had finished his phone call, and even Matt appeared out of nowhere.

“Look,” Dad said, pointing at him. “He shows up when there’s food.”

“Hilarious, Dad,” Matt said.

“Thank you.” Dad grinned.

Mom set out plates and a big salad.

Dad opened all the pizza boxes and lined them up on the counter. “Double cheese for you, Charlie,” he announced.

“That’s my favorite kind, too!” Chip yelped. “Let’s have a contest and see how much we can eat!” He took two pieces and sat down at the kitchen table.

I couldn’t help myself. I put three slices on my plate and as soon as I got to my seat, I started eating as fast as I could.

“Slow down, Charlie,” Mom said. “Leave some for everyone else.”

No one told Chip to slow down. He was holding one pizza piece in each hand and taking bites from both.

“You’ve got a big appetite, little Chipster,” Uncle Brandon said.

Matt leaned over toward me. “So do you, little Charlester,” he teased. I saw that he had three pieces on his plate, too.

We were almost through eating when we heard a really loud whistle.

Uncle Ron!

Uncle Ron has the loudest whistle in the world, which he taught me to do last year. Without even thinking, I put my fingers in my mouth and blew really hard.

FWEEEEEEEEEEET!

“Charlie!” Mom said.

“My goodness!” Gams put her hands over her ears.

By the time I got to the back door, Uncle Ron was standing there with a duffel bag over his shoulder. The Squid and Matt both bounded out of their seats. Dad broke into a grin. Ginger barked like crazy and jumped all over Uncle Ron. He knelt down and let her lick his face for a few seconds. “Okay, girl,” he said. “Later you and I will do some wicked ball chasing, I promise.”

Even though Uncle Ron is younger than my dad, he’s way bigger. He loves to eat, and he looks like it.

“Hi, Uncle Ron!” I gave him a hug. When he squeezes you with his huge arms, you think your
guts might come out somewhere, but it’s still fun. His jacket smelled like wood chips and his old truck and the outdoors.

“Charrrrrlie!” he roared, putting me in a headlock and rubbing my scalp with his knuckles.

“Oowwwwwww!” I screamed. But I was also laughing.

He let me go, then slapped Matt a high five. “Yo, Matthew! A teenager! This means trouble.” Matt gave Uncle Ron a goofy grin, which you hardly ever see him do anymore.

“Uncle Ron!” the Squid squealed. “I can read!”

“No, you can’t!” he said.

“I can, too. I can read the pizza box! It says ‘pizza’!”

“Omigosh, Mabel, you’re a regular child prodigy!”

“I am?” the Squid said.

I don’t think she knew what
that meant, but I guess it sounded good to her.

“You are!” Uncle Ron nodded.

The Squid beamed. He picked her up and swung her around.

“I almost forgot!” said Uncle Ron, setting her down. “I’ve got something for you guys!” He put his duffel on the floor and unzipped it. He rummaged around for a second, then pulled out a huge plastic jar filled with candy.

“Swedish Fish!” he said, holding up the jar. “My favorites! But I decided to share them with you!”

There must have been three hundred pieces of candy in the jar. Stupific!

“Yippee!” the Squid sang. Uncle Ron handed her the jar, which was so big she could barely hold it.

I looked over at Mom.

She had a little smile on her face, but I knew she wasn’t that happy with having so much candy in the house. Uncle Ron didn’t seem to notice.

“Big brother!” Uncle Ron held his arms open for Dad. As they hugged each other, I heard Uncle Ron
whisper in Dad’s ear, “Thanks, bro. Thanks.”

Dad was still grinning.

Then Uncle Ron went around and shook hands with everybody.

I noticed that Chip had opened the huge jar of Swedish Fish. I watched as he pulled out a big handful. “Hey,” I said. “Uncle Ron didn’t say we could open that yet.”

“There’s enough for everyone,” Chip said and stuffed a bunch of them in his mouth. I was about to put the top back on the jar, but first I took a handful myself. I didn’t even feel like eating any Swedish Fish. I was already full from the pizza. But I couldn’t let Chip hog everything.

After a few minutes, Uncle Ron served himself some pizza and salad and sat down to eat. The grown-ups gathered around and started to talk. It seemed like a good time to leave. I knew things would get boring pretty fast—even Uncle Ron could be boring when he was talking to other grown-ups.

But just as I was leaving he called me over. “I’ve got something amazing to show you.”

“What?” I asked. If Uncle Ron said something was amazing, it was
really truly
amazing.

“Plans for a rocket we can build. I’ve got everything we need in my truck. I just have to finish up the launcher tonight, and we’ll build the rocket and shoot it off tomorrow.”

“Cool! Can’t we do it now?”

“Not now, you giant goofball. It’s dark already. Tomorrow. That way we’ll keep you morons out of the grown-ups’ hair while they’re trying to get dinner ready.”

Mom smiled at that. Anything that would keep children occupied and stop them from driving her nuts was probably a good idea.

“All right,” Dad said. “You kids run along so we can talk.”

I could hardly wait for morning. I was hoping Uncle Ron and I could build the rocket by ourselves.

As we left the kitchen, Chip turned back. “What about me, Uncle Ron? Can I do the rocket, too?”

“Of course you can,” Uncle Ron said. “The rocket launching is an equal opportunity experience.”

Boogers.

Maybe we could send Chip up in the rocket.

The grown-ups came into the family room around nine. Dad turned off the TV. “Big day tomorrow,” he said.

“This is vacation, Dad,” I said. “Can’t I stay up later?”

“Maybe a little while, but Aunt Sarah and Uncle Brandon need to get Tilly to the hotel. Pops and Gams are ready for some rest, too.”

“Chip, why don’t you go put on your pajamas?” Aunt Sarah said. “I’ll tuck you in before we go.”

“Not
now,
” Chip whined. “Charlie’s not in his pajamas yet.”

“Charlie’s a little older than you are, honey,” Aunt Sarah explained.

“Well, I don’t want to go until he does,” Chip said, folding his arms across his chest.

“Charlie,” Mom said, “run up and put your pj’s on now.”

“But, Mom,” I protested, “Dad said I could stay up a little longer.” Just because it was Chip’s bedtime didn’t mean it was mine.

“You don’t have to go to bed yet, just put your pj’s on.”

“If Charlie’s staying up, can I?” Chip begged.

Aunt Sarah looked at Mom.

Mom shrugged. “It’s okay with me,” she said. “Maybe they’ll sleep later in the morning.”

“I doubt it,” Aunt Sarah said. “But it’s your house.”

Chip gave them all good-night hugs, and we went up to my room. He opened his bag and dumped all his clothes on the air mattress.

“Come on, Chip,” I said. “If you’re going to sleep on my bed, you can’t put your stuff where I’m supposed to sleep.”

He wasn’t listening. He was staring at my dresser. He bounced across the air mattress and picked up my brand-new Buck Meson Transport Module.

“Cool! What’s this?” he said, waving it back and forth in the air like it was flying.

“No, Chip! Put that down!”

“Okay, okay,” he said.

I took it from him and set it gently back on the dresser.

“Can I at least look at it?”

“Just look at it, don’t touch it. And hurry up. I’m almost ready to go back downstairs.”

Chip changed into his pj’s as fast as he could and ran out of the room. When I heard him pounding down the stairs, I took the Buck Meson Transport
Module and put it in the big bottom drawer of my desk. It would be safe there.

We played with the LEGOs in the family room for a while. At nine-thirty Mom came in and told Chip it was time to go to bed. He announced that he didn’t want to go up until I did. He and my mom went back and forth, until finally she got me to go upstairs with him.

“You can come back down after he falls asleep,” Mom said to me privately.

I lay there on the air mattress waiting for Chip to fall asleep. He wanted to talk, but I told him I was too tired. I was afraid talking would keep him awake even longer.

Finally I saw his eyes close.

As soon as I was sure he was asleep, I tiptoed out and went downstairs. Matt was playing a video game on the computer and didn’t want to be bothered. Dad was helping Mom in the kitchen.

“Where’s Uncle Ron?” I asked.

“In the garage,” Dad said. “Getting something ready for tomorrow.”

“The rocket launcher?” I asked.

“I think so,” said Mom.

“Can I go see?”

“Okay. But put on your shoes and jacket,” Mom said. “And don’t be long.”

I slipped on my sneakers at the door, grabbed my fleece, and went outside. When I opened the side door of the garage, Uncle Ron was at the workbench cutting something with a saw.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, big guy! I’m working on the launch pad for tomorrow. You want to help?”

“Sure!” I said.

“Okay,” he said. “Take these plastic tubes and measure out two twelve-inch sections. Mark them on the tube with this marker. You know the rule: Measure twice, cut once. You don’t want to cut until you’re sure you’ve got it right.”

I could do that. One thing I really liked about Uncle Ron was that he treated me like I was just a person, not some dumb little kid who couldn’t do anything.

I measured out the pieces while he kept cutting.

“Here,” I said, holding them up.

“Perfect! Put them right here on the bench.”

“How does the rocket work?”

“Air pressure,” Uncle Ron answered.

“What do you mean?”

“When you put water in the rocket and pump a lot of air into it, the water shoots out of the bottom and pushes the rocket up.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Uncle Ron said. He went over to the
utility sink in the garage, stuck his head under the faucet, and took a big swig of water. Then he turned toward me with his cheeks bulging and smacked both cheeks with his open hands. Water sprayed all over.

I laughed. “Stupific!” I said. “Let me try.”

Uncle Ron held me up while I stuck my head under the faucet. When my mouth was full, he put me back down on the ground.

“Just stand there and I’ll launch the water,” he said. Standing behind me, he set his hands on either side of my puffed-up cheeks. “Five … four … three … two,” he counted.

But before he could slap my cheeks, I started laughing and the water came pouring out of my mouth. My pj’s were soaked.

“What are you two doing?”

It was my dad. We hadn’t heard him open the door.

Uncle Ron and I cracked up.

“I … was just teaching Charlie about … rocket
propulsion,” Uncle Ron gasped, still laughing.

Dad shook his head. “I’m not sure you two should be left alone together. Charlie, can you come back inside now?”

“I’m helping Uncle Ron.”

“I think you’ve helped him enough. Any more and you might drown. Chip is awake and says he can’t sleep until you go back upstairs.”

“Dad! I don’t want to!”

“I need your help,” he said. “Remember, we talked about this.”

“You go ahead, Charlie, and help your cousin,” Uncle Ron said. “I’m almost done with this anyway.”

I turned and headed out of the garage.

“You’re a good dude, Charlie,” Uncle Ron said as I left.

When I got up to my room, Chip was sitting up in bed waiting for me. I ignored him and changed into some dry pajamas.

“Where were you?” he asked. “How come you’re all wet?”

“Just lie down,” I muttered. “I’m going to sleep now.”

I was tired. I called Ginger and she trotted in, but instead of lying down with me on the air mattress, she jumped up on my bed.

“No, Ginger. Down here!” She turned around three times and plopped down at the end of the bed.

“Awesome!” Chip said, snuggling under my bedspread. “Ginger’s going to sleep with me.”

I pulled up the covers on the air mattress and thought about my first definition of family: “A bunch of people you have to live with and share with, even when you don’t want to.”

So far, it was still the perfect definition.