My Life as a Cartoonist (25 page)

Out of all the varieties of MomMad, silent MomMad is by far the worst. Mom puts Frank inside his cage and brings it inside. My father—also smart enough not to argue with her when she's like this—takes Bodi inside too.

“I hate to take off—” Matt begins.

“Are you kidding? I wish I could leave too. Get out and don't look back.”

Matt doesn't need any convincing; he jumps on his skateboard and heads home.

I go inside and see my mother examining Frank to make sure he's okay. Then she checks his diaper and hands him to me.

I head to her office, incredibly relieved. ANYTHING is better than Mom's silent treatment, including changing a monkey's poopy diaper.

It's going to be a very long Saturday.

NO!

Carly still surfs with Heinz on Saturdays, which means seeing Crash whether she wants to or not. After yesterday's fiasco with the magic show, I still beg my parents for money for another surf lesson, not just because I want to surf again but to make sure Carly's okay. One good thing about my mom—she doesn't hold a grudge. I'm filled with gratitude that she gives me money without a lecture. Then she does even better by driving us to Santa Monica. I fall off the board less frequently than before and end up riding a few small waves all the way in. It turns out Crash didn't show up. Who knows, maybe he's embarrassed about seeing Carly too.

After we get back from the beach, I ask Carly if she wants to come over, but I think all that worrying about running into Crash took a lot out of her and she just wants to stay at home. I change Frank when I get in, then work with him on picking up the dropped remote again. He's slowly getting the hang of it, just the way I have with my drawing—practicing again and again.

Bodi needs some time too and wags his tail the whole way to the dog park. Mr. Danson and Murphy aren't there but two Labs chase a soggy tennis ball and Bodi cheerfully tags along behind them. I'm in a good mood—until I spot someone approaching from the other side of the park. In a wheelchair. I don't say anything, hoping this is just a bully mirage and the image of Umberto will dissipate soon.

“What are YOU doing here?” I ask Umberto when we meet. Is this guy trying to wreck my weekends too?

Umberto maneuvers his chair through the mulch and woodchips. “My aunt lives down the street. I thought I'd let Minnie run around while we visit.” He points to a small brown terrier following two pugs. I have to admit Minnie is cute. Not that I'd tell Umberto.

“Is that your dog?” he asks. “I recognize him from the picture.”

Umberto points to Bodi, who's sniffing the butt of a giant Great Dane. I'm grateful Umberto doesn't turn my dog's idea of fun into a joke.

“Hey, we have to finish that comic for Ms. McCoddle or we're looking at more detention,” Umberto says. “That's the last thing I want.”

“Oh, like I do.” My sarcasm is lost on Umberto, who starts to wheel toward Bodi.

“Is your dog okay?”

I turn around and see Bodi across the park, lying on the ground. When I run to him, the two Labs think I want to play and chase after me. Bodi's breathing heavily and his legs are moving as if he's running, which scares me more than if he were just lying there. I look around for help, but besides Umberto there's only a woman with a headset, yakking on the phone and throwing tennis balls to the Labs. I have to get Bodi to my mom's office. Fast.

I pick up Bodi and run toward the dog park gate. It's a latched system of double doors so the animals can't escape. I wonder how I'm going to open them. To my surprise, Umberto's already there with Minnie in his lap. But the latch is up high and he can't reach it.

“Hey, you!” Umberto shouts to the woman on the phone. “A little help here!”

The woman sees Umberto in his wheelchair and me carrying Bodi and hurries over to unlatch the heavy metal gate. I look down at Bodi and try to decide what's wrong. I'm not a vet like my mom but my guess is that he's having some kind of seizure. I want to ask the woman for a ride to my house but I've never seen her before and she's engrossed in her phone call again. I run as fast as I can while carrying a sixty-pound dog but I'm not moving fast enough.

“We can go to my aunt's,” Umberto says. “It's right down the street.”

“My mom's a vet, remember? I'm going home.”

Umberto moves Minnie to the side of his chair. “Give me your dog.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don't know how far you have to go but you'll definitely get there faster if you can run. Give me Bodi. Come on!”

When Umberto holds out his gloved hands, there isn't time to analyze his intentions. All I can think about now is saving Bodi's life. I place my beloved dog in Umberto's lap, then grab the handles of his wheelchair.

“Run!” Umberto says. “As fast as you can. Don't worry about me.”

I don't tell him he's not the one I'm worried about. I race the seven blocks as fast as I can. Since most of the sidewalks are old and haven't been redone for people in wheel-chairs, we have to run in the street. I look down to check on Bodi. He's now lying quietly in Umberto's arms. I just hope he's still breathing.

“Truck on the left!” Umberto yells. I swerve the wheelchair to the right, up a sidewalk ramp—finally—that leads to the top of my street.