BELLYACHE Page 4

  “It is double layer Brussels sprout pie,” Mrs. Baker answered.

  Peter’s eyes widened with shock. He did not think about it before. Why would it be anything other than a vegetable pie? After all, Candonites were probably not cannibals. How silly of him.

  “You may pass on dessert if you’d like,” she said kindly.

  “Thank you; I will pass,” he said, relieved. Brussels sprouts to him were the most disgusting vegetables ever. There was no way he wanted that pie anywhere near his mouth.

  Mayor Baker said sincerely, “It must be very strange for you, meeting us Candonites.” Peter nodded, and Mayor Baker reflected, “I remember when I met my first human, Christopher. He was about your age, and I was only five years old. I was in my own surroundings, and it was hard for me to comprehend a human in my town. It has to be harder for you, being away from your home and in a strange place. It was difficult for me to understand, not to mention how extremely frightened I was when Christopher explained to me that where you are from, you eat things that look like us. I understand now that they aren’t alive, they fit on a plate, and do not have feelings or Candonite emotions. There were a few bites too over the years, fortunately not to me or the Mrs. The bites were given by younger human children and one crazy adult, but no real harm has ever been done. I guess their curiosity got the best of them.”

  “That’s why Joe told me not to bite him,” Peter recalled.

  Mayor and Mrs. Baker laughed. Peter laughed, too. Peter tried respectfully not to get grossed out as the Bakers enjoyed their dessert. Afterwards, they cleaned up together. Peter’s mother always told him that if he is invited to a nice dinner someone has thoughtfully prepared, the least he can do is help with the clean up.

  The Tour

  “Let’s be on our way to give you your tour of our Maple Town,” Mayor Baker said.

  Peter followed the Bakers to their garage and got in their car, which was smaller than Officer O’Bryan’s and ruby red. In tighter quarters, the Bakers’ pleasant odor filled the air. He thought of his father and how much he would like this car. His father’s favorite car color was red. He wished his father was with him now. He thought he would get along with the Bakers nicely.

  Out of curiosity, Peter couldn’t keep from looking into every car they passed. The Bakers showed him the major shopping center, which contained a movie theater. The buildings of the center were vibrant colors and were all stacked together. The parking lot was half full. They drove by the movie theater and saw a couple of signs for movies playing. One was a love story with a picture of a male and a female Candonite staring into each other’s eyes. The female was a glamorous strawberry woman with what looked like chocolate hair. The male was obviously a handsome speckled jelly bean. The second sign was for a dinosaur movie. The stars appeared to be giant gummies, an enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex, and a fierce Velociraptor. Peter decided he wouldn’t mind seeing the dinosaur movie but definitely wouldn’t want to see the love story—no way!

  The next stop was a place called Glovers Park. It was where the Bakers went on picnics with friends. It was mostly empty, but there were a few town residents walking their dogs. The trees and grass made it an especially blue-green park. The sun was setting. Peter could see in the distance a round blue frame of a Candonite standing in the warmth of the lowering rays. Soon it would be dark.

  “Before it gets dark, we should show you Old Town. That is where our library and Maple Town Museum are located,” Mayor Baker suggested.

  “Okay!” Peter replied. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  Old Town was quaint, and the business buildings were much shorter than the ones at the mall. They weren’t all connected to each other like the mall, but they were close, with only a few feet between them. The buildings here were much duller compared to those in the rest of the town. Paint was peeling off some of the buildings.

  They drove by the library and the museum, both of which were closed. In the middle of Old Town, they came to a crosswalk where the mayor had to stop to let an elderly faded green gumdrop man cross the street. Peter was fascinated by the fact that the old gumdrop man had only one leg and hobbled along with a crutch. He was cheery despite having one leg. The old gumdrop man flashed a genuine smile and wave of thanks to the mayor when he passed by.

  On the way back to the Bakers’ house, they stopped in front of Maple Town School. It was a friendly looking place with a stone sculpture of the letters “MTS” positioned in the middle of the courtyard. It was an extreme yellow and orange hexagon building that looked like a fun place to go to school. Peter imagined attending the school with all the Candonite children. How awesome would that be?

  “All school-age children attend classes here,” the mayor informed him.

  Last stop was Town Hall. It was a large, glass, stop-sign-shaped building with many steps leading to the front entrance. A cleaning van that read “Lemony Fresh Cleaners” was parked out front.

  “That car belongs to Joe’s father. Real nice fella who does darn good work.” That was a far cry from what Peter thought Joe’s dad would be like—a mean old bear.

  “Is this where you work?” inquired Peter.

  “Yup, my office is right in the middle on the fourth floor.” Mayor Baker pointed upward.

  On the way home, almost dark now, they passed by the Bakers’ favorite restaurant, Bella’s House of Food. It was a huge, silvery-white dome and the windows were all different shapes, sizes, and colors: tiny purple star windows, large orange oval windows, red diamond windows—so many different ones. It looked like a pretty interesting place. According to the Bakers, it had the best food around.

  Mrs. Baker said in a voice like a commercial announcer, “They serve a side of fun with every meal!”

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we meet for lunch tomorrow and go to Bella’s? I should be able to take off work for a bit,” the mayor suggested.

  “That would be a real treat for Peter.” The Mrs. turned to look at Peter in the backseat. “How about it?”

  Peter said excitedly, “I can’t wait!”

  Nosey Neighbor and a Good Poke

  Upon returning from the tour and pulling into the driveway of the Bakers’ house, Peter spotted two figures standing next to the mailbox.

  As they approached, Mrs. Baker let out a quiet, “Oh dear.”

  Mayor Baker warned as they approached the figures, “Now, Peter, don’t mind Carol Winston; she’s a true busybody, and that is her nephew, Poke. He’s a good boy.”

  Poke. Had he heard Mayor Baker right? If so, that was a very interesting name. Peter could make out the figures now. He saw that Carol Winston was unmistakably a candy cane lady: red and white. And Poke was what appeared to be a chocolate candy cup of some sort. Could he possibly be…probably not. Poke was smiling joyfully, but Carol Winston was not, her stern face lit from the outside lights. Her look forced him to look straight at the back of Mayor Baker’s head.

  The car pulled into the driveway and everyone got out. Carol Winston and Poke waited patiently at the garage.

  “We went to the door and discovered you weren’t home,” Carol informed them.

  Tolerating her, Mayor Baker said, “Yes, Carol, we were out showing Peter the town.”

  “Oh, Peter is his name, eh.” She eyed Peter up and down.

  Peter was very uncomfortable.

  Mrs. Baker piped in, “Hello, Poke. Nice to see you. How long are you visiting?

  “Nice to see you, too. My mom is picking me up the day after tomorrow,” he replied.

  “I have an idea. How about coming with us to Bella’s House of Food for lunch tomorrow? I know how much you love it there—if that is okay with your aunt, of course.” Mrs. Baker looked at Carol.

  “You know where I stand on that issue, Sandy…but as I always say, I am not the boss of anyone, and he has his own mind to make up. But if he loses a finger, he better not come crying to me!” Carol Winston grumbled.

  “Nonsense, Carol, no one will be losing an
y fingers,” Mayor Baker insisted. Carol’s red and white eyebrows lowered.

  “Tomorrow for lunch, all right!” Poke said cheerfully.

  “Wonderful,” Mrs. Baker replied.

  Carol Winston crossed her arms and mumbled something under her breath.

  “We better be getting inside. We don’t want to miss our favorite show.” Mr. Baker began walking backward toward the front door. Mrs. Baker followed, and Peter wasn’t about to stay there, so he followed them as well. They all waved and said good night except for Carol Winston, who was still pouting and scowling at Peter. She made Peter’s skin crawl.

  Once inside, Mayor Baker whispered, “As I said before, Peter, don’t pay her any mind. She is a little unreasonable and a wee bit eccentric.” He winked at Peter. Peter gave a half smile back, still uncomfortable from the encounter.

  “Only five minutes until Journey to Your Future,” Mrs. Baker chimed in.

  Sitting on the velvet couch between the Bakers, Peter took a sweet, deep breath and almost had to pinch himself to assure he was really there. Would anyone believe him? He almost did not care either way. He knew the truth.

  Journey to Your Future was a fun game show to watch. There was a contestant named Pearl and a host named Jabber James. “Jabber” suited him well. He was a real talker. His hair stood straight up on his head, and was striped pale pink, light blue, and crisp white. Peter thought he resembled cotton candy. Pearl looked like candy corn. She was super excited, clapping her hands and waving them all around.

  The stage held what Jabber James announced as the “Journey Center.” It was five stories high with eight small rooms side by side on each level. Each room had four doors: two on opposite walls and one on the ceiling and one on the floor. Every room was decorated with a different theme, from a pirate’s cove to a princess’s chambers.

  The object of the game was for the contestants to pick the right path to eventually arrive in the room that held the key to their future. During Pearl’s journey, she would come across keys and have to decide whether or not to keep that particular key or to continue searching through the Journey Center until she found another one. There were only three keys in the Journey Center, all located in different rooms. Only one key held the wealthiest future. The other two could be splendid prizes or disappointing junk. Along the way, she might find prizes, which she had to open up and show the audience before moving on through her journey if she wanted to keep them. And she only had ten minutes in which to do it.

  Pearl raced through those rooms with tremendous speed, climbing up and down ladders to reach the doors and get to different rooms. Peter thought she had impressive agility for someone her shape, triangular and all. She stopped and made sure to open every prize she found. The biggest prize she found was in the jungle room: a bag of gold coins worth two thousand dollars. Peter thought he could do a whole mess with that sort of money and soon found himself imagining it was him up there in the Journey Center on a quest for his future. Pearl stuck with the first key she discovered in the Egyptian room and informed everyone in an out-of-breath scream that it was the key to her future!

  Jabber started with the two keys Pearl did not choose. The first key unlocked a chest that contained free movie tickets for five years. Imagine going to see all the movies you wanted for free! Peter thought you could definitely afford popcorn then! The second key unlocked jet skis. Wow, jet skis would be great fun; he and Lina could go to the lake and ride them all day long. Peter thought those were pretty big prizes. He wondered what was left for Pearl. The mayor and the Mrs. were practically on the edge of their seats. Peter was caught up in all the excitement when Jabber James jerked his head toward the camera and announced another commercial break.

  “Oh, crumbles!” Mayor Baker protested. “Every week they take a commercial break at that exact time, and every week it tricks me!” Peter and Mrs. Baker laughed. The phone rang, and Mrs. Baker got up gracefully to answer it. She quickly handed it off to the mayor, and Peter heard this part of the conversation:

  “Judge Greg, how are you this evening? We are watching the same thing, so we’ll be quick. Yes, tomorrow we are going to Bella’s for lunch. Great, then I won’t see you there. I will see you at the parade. Have a wonderful night! Good-bye.” Mayor Baker hung up swiftly.

  “Great, I won’t see you there.” What an odd thing to say, thought Peter.

  Jabber James’s voice drew Peter’s attention back to the TV. What was Pearl taking home?

  “Oh, I hope they don’t do what they did last week.” Mrs. Baker sounded a little concerned. She turned to Peter and said, “The contestant won a bar of soap a year for ten years. Isn’t that just awful?”

  Peter thought Pearl seemed like a nice Candonite and she deserved more than a dumb bar of soap. They all watched intently as Pearl turned the key that held her future. Peter imagined it was him holding that key, and he wanted to win something totally outrageous.

  As Jabber James read aloud what she had won, Peter felt like he was there. Jabber James was giving him the prize.

  “Peter, your future holds for you…” Peter winced as Jabber went on in an enormous voice, “one new car every year, for the next five years!” Peter and everyone cheered “Wait! There is more!” No way! Awesome, thought Peter, “Twenty thousand dollars a year for the next five years!”

  “Those are definitely grand prizes,” stated the mayor.

  “How lovely for her!” Mrs. Baker added.

  “I could do a lot with that kind of cash!” Peter confessed.

  “I bet you could. What would be the first thing you would buy?” inquired a giggling Mrs. Baker.

  “Well,” Peter thought hard for a moment, “I know.” He touched his chin. “I would buy a sports store. And it would have to have batting cages so my friends and I could hit some balls whenever we felt like it. Yeah, a sports store! My dad and I could run it, and I would always have the sporting gear I needed. I always need a different size these days. My mom says I am growing like a weed, and I always have to wait until the first of the month for clothes, like sweat pants or a new jersey that fits. If I owned a sports store, I would take it off the rack and wear it out of the store because I could.”

  “Jolly idea! I like it: a young business man.” Mayor Baker applauded.

  “I believe you and your father would enjoy that very much,” said a smiling Mrs. Baker.

  “This is where we turn in for the night, son,” Mayor Baker stated, rising off the couch. “I know it seems early. But the Mrs. likes to read her books, and I always go over my work for the next day before we go to bed.”

  “You may stay up and watch more television, or there are some books in the side table by your bed; you are more than welcome to read one if you would like. Oh, and there is a toothbrush and toothpaste for you in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Mrs. Baker said as she rose from the couch.

  After saying their good nights, Mrs. Baker reminded him as his own mother would, “Don’t stay up too late.”

  The Bakers started to leave the room when Peter said, “I had a great time tonight; thank you for everything.” And he really meant it. He needed to say it just in case he went to bed and woke up the next morning somewhere other than Maple Town.

  “Our pleasure, my boy, our pleasure,” said the mayor.

  Mrs. Baker beamed at Peter and then turned to her husband, and Peter saw for a moment a brief frown tinged with sadness. The mayor gently took her hand and led her out of the room.

  She will miss me when I am gone, Peter thought. He remembered what the mayor had said when Peter had met him: “You will be in town for about twenty-four hours and then you’ll be on your way home.” He sat there mindlessly flipping through the channels, watching different shows, everything from infomercials to a detective movie. The next thing he knew, two hours had passed. Peter turned off the TV and quietly moved through the house to his room. He listened carefully and heard no noises except for the ones he was making himself. The Bakers had gone to sleep
. Peter reached his room and swiped on the light. He closed the door softly and realized he was not one bit tired. He was excited for tomorrow’s events and at the same time worried. What if he went to bed and woke up in the morning and was not in Maple Town anymore and did not get to say good-bye?

  The Guest Book

  In the bathroom, Peter opened the medicine cabinet and found a toothbrush and toothpaste. He examined the toothbrush; the head was twice the size of the one he had at home. He hadn’t thought of it before but now it occurred to him that the Candonites’ mouths were bigger than human mouths. He took the toothpaste out and examined it as well.

  He read the label of the toothpaste under his breath: “Spinach Delight, the perfect flavor to wake up your mouth!”

  “Disgusting!” exclaimed Peter, and his face turned a shade of green. He covered his mouth when he realized he may have said that loud enough to disturb the Bakers.

  Out of curiosity, Peter unscrewed the cap and squirted a glob across the bristles of the toothbrush. The glob was light green with specks of dark green, and it smelled dreadful, like cooked spinach. “Uh uh. No way. I am not putting that in my mouth,” he muttered as he shook his head fiercely.

  He quickly rinsed off the end of the toothbrush and shoved it back in the medicine cabinet with the toothpaste. He brushed his teeth with his index finger and water. “There, good enough,” he whispered triumphantly.

  He crossed the room to the side table and opened the drawer to find several books. He took them out one at a time and piled them on the bed: an adventure novel, a girl book, a mystery novel, and a handful more. He sorted through the books until he figured he wasn’t in a reading mood. Besides, he wouldn’t get to finish a book, anyway. He put them all back. His eyes caught a glimpse of the guest book. He picked it up and plopped down on the bed with his legs crossed. He turned the pages slowly, looking at the different names. He saw a name he rather liked.

  “Willie Watson.” It rolled off his tongue. He thought if his name was not Peter Fischer, it would suit him well.