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more.”
    â€œKeep going, Robert,” said Ashley.
    â€œBlowing Rock, North Carolina. Rock Island, Illinois. Castle Rock, Colorado,” Robert said as I repeated each one to Cousin Ralphie. I put my hand over the phone and whispered to Frankie, “How many is that?”
    â€œYou’ve got six,” Cousin Ralphie answered.
    We all stared at Robert. He just stared back at us.
    â€œI’m thinking, I’m thinking,” he whined in his nasal, little voice.
    â€œHow about Rock City, Alabama,” Emily chimed in. “Remember, that’s where I threw up clam chowder in the motel pool when we were driving to Florida.”
    I was pretty disgusted by the memory, but I was glad she came up with it. I repeated it to Cousin Ralphie.
    â€œThat’s seven,” he said. “But I hear you slowing down.”
    â€œNot me, sir,” I said. “I have thousands more.”
    Frankie looked at me like I was crazy. Robert was squeezing his nose and closing his eyes really tight.
    â€œRock Springs, Wyoming,” he spit out like his face was going to explode. “And there’s another Little Rock in Iowa.”
    I repeated those two to Cousin Ralphie. Even he was pretty impressed.
    â€œThat’s nine, young man. I need one more, and you’re on your way to the Stone Cold Rock opening-night concert. And did I tell you you’re riding on the band’s personal tour bus?”
    I looked over at Robert. He looked stuck.
    â€œDig deep, little man,” Frankie said to him. “We need you now.”
    Robert’s whole body twisted from side to side. He looked like a baby chick hatching from an egg—you know, when they come out all wet and skinny and scraggly-looking. It felt like hours were going by.
    â€œTime is running out,” Cousin Ralphie said on the other end of the phone. “Are you still there, caller?”
    Suddenly, Robert’s face turned bright red. “Red Rock, Ontario,” he said.
    Without waiting even half a second, I repeated what he said.
    â€œRed Rock, Ontario!” I screamed into the phone.
    There was a pause.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Cousin Ralphie began, “Red Rock, Ontario, is in Canada.”
    â€œWhich is just what I was going to point out,” I said, “that Red Rock, Ontario, is a lovely spot, but unfortunately it isn’t the one I was going to say because we all know that Canada is not a state in the United States. It’s its own Canada.”
    Okay, I was stalling. Wouldn’t you if your whole educational future was riding on this one answer?
    Robert shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hank. I’m rocked out.”
    I looked desperately at Ashley. She shook her head, and Frankie did too. They had nothing. It was up to me. My mind ran over every city we had mentioned. We had all kinds of rocks—a blowing rock, a red rock, a little rock. Hey, why not? I took a chance.
    â€œBig Rock!” I guessed.
    I held my breath.
    â€œGood answer!” Cousin Ralphie called out. “What is your name, son?”
    â€œHank Zipzer.”
    â€œWell, pack your bags, Hank Zipzer, because you are on your way to Philadelphia.”
    â€œActually, Cousin Ralphie, I want to give the trip to my parents, Stan and Randi Zipzer. They really deserve some quality time together.”
    â€œYour parents? Are they Stone Cold Rock fans?”
    â€œAre they ever! My dad sings every one of their songs in the shower at least three times a week. He especially likes ‘I Was a Dirt Bag ’Til I Found My Soap.’ ”
    â€œHe must be a real rocker, that Stan Zipzer,” Cousin Ralphie said.
    â€œOh, yes, he is, sir,” I said. “He couldn’t be more of a rocker.”
    â€œStay right where you are, kid,” Cousin Ralphie said. “We’re going to commercial, and when we come back, I’ll tell you all about the fabulous trip you’ve won for your parental