questions about the story, Carly isnât the only one who knows all the answers.
Saying Good-bye to Matt
On my way to Mattâs, I run into Joe Brennan at the tennis courts. He waves me over, so I pull my bike to the curb.
âListen to this,â he says. âA chimpanzee whoâs allergic to bananasâwhat do you think?â
I think itâs the stupidest thing Iâve ever heard, but heâs got a huge rock in his hand, so I tell him the idea is brilliant. He tosses the rock into the air with one hand and catches it with the other.
âSo the chimp ends up being the best climber in his tribe because he has to get peanuts instead of bananas.â
âPeanuts donât grow on trees.â I keep my eye on the rock as I disagree with Joe. âThey grow on plants, underground.â
âThey do not.â
âDo, too.â What are we, five? I take a few steps away from Joe. âAnd groups of chimpanzees arenât called tribes. Theyâre called cartloads.â
Joe bounces the large rock from one hand to the other even slower than before. âCartloads of chimpanzeesâthat doesnât make sense. They canât drive carts.â
âMaybe in your story they should. Cartloads of chimpanzees in cartsâmight be funny.â Why am I wasting my time trying to collaborate with this knucklehead?
The rock suddenly stops; it appears to weigh a hundred pounds in Joeâs meaty hand. âSince when did you get so smart?â he asks.
âJust âcuz I have a hard time at school doesnât mean Iâm stupid.â I skid back and forth on the sidewalk with my bike. âBesides, my momâs a veterinarian. I know a lot about animals.â
ââCuz you are one.â
I nod as if Joe got the last laugh, but inside Iâm thinking, Weâre all animals, you moron. I tell him Iâd love to stay and chatâanother lieâbut Iâm on my way to Mattâs.
âI might use that cartload of chimps idea,â Joe shouts after me. âBut I wonât give you credit for it!â
As I bike past the school, I think about Pedro. A group of monkeys can also be a cartload, but they can be a barrel too. I wonder when the woman in Venice Beach will bring Pedro back for a checkup. If Pedro wants me to roll him down the street in our recycling barrel with the wheels on it, Iâd be happy to oblige.
Mattâs family car is loaded with luggage and boxes for their trip. He tells me they will fly from L.A. to Boston, then drive to Cape Cod and take a ferry to Marthaâs Vineyard. I feel sad for lots of reasonsâbecause my best friend is deserting me, because my familyâs not going anywhere, and because the rest of my summer is going to be WORK, WORK, WORK.
âLearning Camp wonât be so bad,â Matt says. âJamie went there when he was our age and said it wasnât that terrible.â
âThe worst summer of my life!â Jamie jams another bag into the car. âDoing math for an hour, then shooting hoops for ten minutes? Thatâs a formula for misery.â
I figure out that Jamie is just helping them pack the car and wonât be going on vacation with the rest of the family. His mother gives him instructions ten times about what to do and what not to do while theyâre gone. I feel bad that heâs standing there taking orders from her, but Iâm also glad Iâm not the only one who gets treated like a kindergartner.
Matt pulls me aside. âFirst rainy day on the island, Iâm going straight to the library.â
âYou are?â I suddenly feel like Iâm alone in protesting the summer reading books.
Matt can read my mind. âNot for the reading list, you goon. Iâll see what I can find out about Susan James.â
Not only is my best friend leaving, but heâs going to be having my adventure.
After they pull out of the driveway, Jamie runs into
Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins