Hold the Pickles Read online

  My love was doomed.

  Chapter Five

  That’s not quite fair. I shouldn’t say Shane Coolen is terrible. Not anymore at least. For years, he called me Pigboy and tortured me about my glasses and my teeth and stuff like that, but he’s gotten nicer. We even kind of get along now.

  That still didn’t mean I was happy to hear his voice. I knew if he found out I was Frank Lee Better, he’d never be able to control himself. He’s only human. He’d have to make fun of me. And that would be the end of my chances with the beautiful girl.

  I told myself to calm down. How would Shane know it was me? The costume covered me right to my shins, and I hadn’t used my real voice. As long as he didn’t recognize the smell of my sweat, I figured I was okay.

  “Don’t move, Wienerboy! I mean it!” He came charging over with his big hand stretched out for the last sample. He didn’t seem to notice there was a bite out of it. “Yes! I got it. I wanted a hotdog so bad, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  He was about to put the sample in his mouth when he saw the girl. His hand stopped in midair.

  “Well, hello there.” He didn’t even have to put on a Jolly Green Giant voice. It came natural to him.

  I couldn’t see the girl’s face very well, but I could tell by the way she said hi that she was smiling.

  I felt sick. She’d already made it clear that she liked tall, healthy guys, and Shane sure was tall and healthy. The kid had single-handedly lifted Mr. Benvie’s SUV out of the snowbank last year. I assumed that was the only way he’d managed to pass geography. Shane didn’t need to hide inside a foam hotdog to impress a girl.

  “So, ah, what’s your name?” He might have been tall and healthy, but Shane wasn’t all that clever with the pickup lines.

  “Brooke.”

  “You mean, like water?” He gave this lover-boy chuckle and winked at her. “I like water.” I would have thrown up, but it was already gross enough inside the hotdog.

  The worst thing was that the beautiful girl laughed at his joke just as hard as she’d laughed at mine. I told myself she was only being polite, but I didn’t really believe it. Girls always laughed at Shane’s jokes. There was just something about him they found cute. Frankly, I didn’t understand the attraction, but that was probably fine with Shane.

  He started talking as if I wasn’t there. He asked Brooke if she’d like to get a bite to eat. He made it sound as if he was going to take her to some fancy restaurant instead of just walking over to a mascot with a trayful of free food.

  She laughed again and said, “I don’t know you very well.” I got the impression that she’d like to change that. She reached out and touched his arm.

  What was I thinking? Why would Brooke ever fall for six feet of foam when she could have a real man—or at least Shane?

  He talked her into heading over to check out what the dancing meatball was offering. He still had my sample in his hand.

  “Let me finish this and…” He popped it in his mouth, then made a sound like a dog that had suddenly reached the end of its leash. He started spitting and sputtering and scraping at his tongue with his fingernails.

  “Ooh. Ugh. Gag. What is this?” He looked at me as if I’d tried to poison him. “It’s disgusting!”

  I didn’t have a chance to reply. Shane heaved and ran off with his hand over his mouth.

  “Oh, dear. Poor guy.” Brooke watched him disappear through the crowd. Her big brown eyes looked sad. “He must have gotten a bad one.”

  She was sympathetic, but she didn’t run after him. I was amazed. Did she really prefer to stay with me? Even more amazing, I noticed that a second beautiful girl was there now too, standing beside Brooke. They could have been identical twins, except that this one had blond hair.

  “Oh, Kelsey! I wondered where you were!” Brooke said. “You’ve got to meet Frank. He’s so funny! You’ll absolutely love him.”

  They both turned and smiled at me. I was making ten bucks an hour to talk to two beautiful girls who thought I was funny. I could barely breathe, I was so happy. It was as if, suddenly, everything in my life was going right. I didn’t even feel like sneezing anymore.

  But the good times didn’t last very long.

  I was just about to charm the girls with a few more of my witty remarks when I heard something even worse than Shane’s voice.

  Uncle Hammy’s.

  Chapter Six

  “Hey, look, everybody! Isn’t that Frank Lee Better?”

  What was Uncle Hammy doing here? Why wasn’t he manning his booth? I didn’t want to turn around and find out.

  “It is! It’s the Healthy Hottie!” He was hollering like he’d just spotted Justin Bieber. People craned their necks to see. I can imagine how disappointed they were when they realized he was talking about a hotdog.

  I had to stop Hammy before he said anything more. He was bound to humiliate me in front of Brooke—even if it was only by mentioning that he was my uncle.

  I could hear him pound across the floor behind me. There was no time to waste.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the girls. “I’ve got to…”

  “Oh, sorry,” Brooke said, looking at Hammy. She had this perfect singsong voice. “Don’t let us keep you from your fans!”

  Kelsey swung her big red purse up onto her shoulder. “No. We wouldn’t want to do that. That man looks like he’s really excited to see you. You must be quite a celebrity!”

  I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. I got the feeling she wasn’t as nice as Brooke, but I didn’t know why I thought that. It was something about her voice. It had an edge to it.

  Hammy was hollering about my powerful biceps now and gaining on me. The girls’ smiles had frozen on their faces. Their eyes shifted back and forth between me and Hammy. This was turning into one of those classic awkward moments that usually come right before the deeply embarrassing ones.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, then turned to cut Hammy off at the pass.

  My cape swung up in the air just like a real superhero’s would. I wondered if the girls thought it looked cool.

  Or dorky?

  Chapter Seven

  First, the good news.

  With so many people tromping through the hall, Hammy didn’t notice his samples scattered all over the floor. He just saw my empty tray and must have thought they’d all been gobbled up by happy customers. He was thrilled.

  “You’re doing a great job, Frank! Or, should I say, Dan.” He whispered as if my true identity was our little secret. “Boy. I’d better hurry back to my stall. Thanks to your stellar sales job, I bet there’s a lineup by now!”

  He handed me the new tray of samples he’d brought with him. “I won’t be able to get down again until three. I doubt these will last until then…” He patted me on the back. “But do your best.”

  Now the bad news.

  By the time I got rid of Hammy, I’d lost sight of the girls.

  I wandered around the hall for ages with my head bent back so I could squint out the mouth hole. I didn’t see them anywhere.

  I decided to do my routine again. I yelled out, “I’m Frank Lee Better! The Healthy Hottie!” I wasn’t embarrassed about doing it anymore. I had a purpose now. I figured if Brooke heard my voice, she’d come and find me. The mere thought of that boosted my ego. She really did seem to like me.

  Most people who heard my voice, though, clearly didn’t. I got the usual reaction. I’d mention high fiber, and they’d turn and head for the nearest pizza stand. The few people who did take a sample didn’t seem interested in finding out where they could get more. Hammy should have stuck to his old high-f lavor recipe and not worried about nutrition. Nobody eats a hotdog for their health.

  So that’s why what happened next came as a surprise. I’d just finished my spiel and, naturally, expected everybody to keep walking by. Instead someone said, “Oh, what have we here?”

  I turned toward the voice.

  The next thing I knew, somet
hing whacked me hard in the ankles. My legs flew out from under me. Hammy’s samples scattered all over the floor. People ducked for cover. My head hit the ground. This was starting to feel like a bad habit.

  I waited until the pain subsided before I opened my eyes. Call me crazy, but I was hoping to see Brooke leaning over me again. The concussion would have been worth it.

  Unfortunately, that’s not what happened.

  I saw a giant yellow cupcake wearing a thick coat of white icing and a jaunty cherry hat. It batted its long black eyelashes at me.

  “Oh, sorry. Are you okay?” The cupcake had a little girly voice.

  I groaned and got halfway up on my elbows. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I said, although the world seemed to be spinning all of a sudden.

  “Careful! You lie back down now.” The cupcake gently pushed me onto the floor. “You could still be dizzy. You might hurt yourself.”

  The pink smile on its spongy face didn’t change, but the voice sure did. “Listen, meathead,” it whispered into an eyehole in a deep rumble. “Beat it. This is Cupcake Katie territory. Show your buns around here again, and I’ll shove each and every one of those sesame seeds down your high-fiber throat. Understand?”

  He yanked me onto my feet, and I heard my cape tear. The creep actually laughed. “Oops. How did that happen?” he said. “Didn’t realize I was standing on it. Silly me…”

  Normally, you’d think a hotdog could take on a cupcake, but this guy wasn’t your average cupcake.

  Or your average Katie.

  It was safer to get out of there while I could. I was a little ashamed of myself. I had the feeling an all-beef frankfurter wouldn’t let himself be pushed around like that.

  Cupcake Katie did a little dance and waved a yellow glove at me. “Toodle-oo, Frank Lee! Hope you’re feeling better,” he said in the girly voice. I wanted to punch him right in his muffin-top, but I knew when I was beat.

  I got as far away from him as I could. Once I was safe, I had a twinge of guilt about ruining Hammy’s expensive costume. But my guilt didn’t last long. I had something else on my mind.

  Brooke.

  Sooner or later I was going to have to step out of this hotdog and show her the real me. Let’s face it, the real me couldn’t stand up to a miniature marshmallow, let alone a full-size cupcake with attitude. I didn’t know how she’d react to sad little Dan Hogg. It made me nervous. But what could I do about it? I just kept hoping that if I really put the charm on, she’d still like me when the ugly truth finally came out.

  But where was I going to find her?

  I wandered around the hall, but it seemed useless. I couldn’t do my sales pitch with no samples to give away. The costume was getting heavier all the time. And I didn’t even know if Brooke was still here. She might have eaten her fill and gone home by now.

  I was starting to feel depressed about the whole situation when I spotted Shane cramming his pockets full of samples from Eat-o-Burrito’s.

  Half an hour earlier I’d been thrilled to get rid of the guy. Now he seemed like the only person who could help me find Brooke. I cleared my throat and headed over.

  “Excuse me, sir,” I said in a deep voice. “A little while ago, you were speaking with a dark-haired girl over by The Codfather Fish ’n Chips stand. I wonder if you might know where she is.”

  Shane wiped a dribble of salsa off his chin with his sleeve and said, “Yeah. Maybe. Why do you want to know, Dan?”

  Chapter Eight

  I thought I was going to fall over again.

  “How did you know it was me?” I said in my normal voice.

  Shane pounded his chest with his fist and dislodged a greasy burp. “Oh, please,” he said. “Who else has ankles that skinny?”

  “You recognized me by my ankles?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Well, that and the Hogg’s Doggs thing. I just put two and two together.”

  I wanted to say, “You can put two and two together?” but a guy dressed like a hotdog really shouldn’t tease anyone about anything. “So why didn’t you mention it?” I said.

  “In front of that Brooke girl?” Shane squinted one eye and shook his head. “I didn’t want to embarrass you. I have a heart, you know.”

  That would have been touching, if he hadn’t chosen that exact moment to yank a wiry red hair out of Frank Lee’s head and use it to pick something from between his back teeth.

  “Ah, gee, thanks, Shane,” I said. “So…I, ah, don’t suppose you know where she is now, do you?”

  He shoved another Burrito-Bit in his mouth. “Nah. I don’t. But I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”

  So much for Mr. Nice Guy.

  “How come?” I said.

  “I told ya! I have a heart. I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dan. It was so obvious. The way you shuffled around in your little green shoes.” He did a short demonstration to make sure I got the point. “And put on that lame superhero voice. You obviously liked her. But let’s be frank, Dan. Brooke’s more my type of girl. We both know it.”

  He put his beefy arm around me and squeezed. I assumed he didn’t realize he was cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain. “Don’t be upset, old buddy. You’ll find someone. Who knows? There’s probably a nice little female meatball or chicken nugget prancing around here today who’d love to get to know a guy like you.”

  I tried not to be insulted. I don’t think Shane meant it in a mean way, but he clearly didn’t think I was much of a ladies’ man. What guy longs to meet the meatball of his dreams?

  Shane slapped me on the back. That at least forced some air back into my lungs. “I’m only joking,” he said. “There is something serious I’d like to talk to you about though.”

  “Oh yeah? What?” Even heartbroken, I was kind of interested. I don’t think I’d ever heard Shane say anything serious.

  “Don’t suppose you’d lend me ten bucks, would you? I can’t seem to find my wallet. I don’t know what the matter is with these guys, but no one’ll give me any more freebies.”

  Chapter Nine

  There was no way I believed Shane had lost his wallet, but I didn’t say so. I didn’t have to. I could honestly tell him I didn’t have any money to lend. I mean, where would Frank Lee Better put a wallet? Hotdog buns generally didn’t come with pockets or man-purses—thank goodness. Shane insisted on frisking me anyway but eventually gave up and wandered off to find another victim.

  To tell the truth, I almost missed Shane when he was gone. I had nothing to do. No samples to give away, no girls to charm. I was even afraid to move very far, because Cupcake Katie hadn’t bothered to show me where his territory began. I didn’t want to stumble into enemy hands.

  I was wandering aimlessly past the Flab-U-Less Lo-Cal Pizza stand when someone grabbed me.

  “Frank! It’s me!”

  That voice, that beautiful voice. Brooke had found me! I was so happy, I didn’t mind that her perfume instantly clogged up my sinuses again.

  This wasn’t a joyful reunion though. Something was wrong.

  “Don’t let him see me,” she said. I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell she was upset. “Please. Hide me.”

  “Let who see you, Brooke? What’s the matter? Are you all right?”

  “Shh!” she said, then slipped behind me and under my ripped cape. I could feel her shaking. Was Cupcake Katie after her too?

  I felt bad that Brooke was upset, but I felt good too. I mean, she came to me for help. So much for me not being her type, Shane! Where was he when she needed him? Huh?

  A guy dressed in blue hurried by, then stopped a few steps away from me. He put his hands on his hips and looked around as if he was trying to see what smelled bad.

  Or maybe, to see what smelled good. Had he noticed Brooke’s perfume?

  He turned around and walked right up to me. I didn’t like the look of this guy at all. Next to him, Cupcake Katie seemed like a mildly i
rritated lunchroom monitor.

  Brooke wasn’t just shaking now, she was downright rattling. I was doing a bit of that myself, although I tried my best to control it.

  Blue Boy tilted his head to one side as if he was trying to see behind me. I leaned over too and struck a kind of bent-superhero pose. “Why, hello there, sir! I’m Frank Lee Better!” I was doing my best to distract him.

  He waved me away with his hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Cut the crap, kid.”

  “Crap!” I said. I made my voice as loud as I could and stood on my tiptoes to look taller. People turned to see what was going on. “I’m the Superhero Hotdog!” I boomed. “You know what they say. Frank Lee Better is Frank Lee the Best. I can leap high buildings…break big sticks…carry large pots of water…”

  I was making it up as I went along, but I was running out of things to say. (I don’t think well under pressure, and believe me, having a beautiful girl hiding under your cape is stressful. Nice, but stressful.) As it turned out, I didn’t need to come up with much more.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because I was shaking so much or if someone accidentally knocked me from behind, but I lost my balance again. My arms shot straight out in front of me. An image of Superman taking off into the air flashed through my mind. Then I fell forward like the giant foam hotdog that I was.

  I landed right on top of the guy.

  People started to laugh and clap. They must have thought it was some kind of publicity stunt.

  For one nanosecond I was glad the guy was there to cushion my fall. Then reality struck.

  By which I mean the guy struck.

  He whacked me in the side of the head and said, “Get off me, you idiot!” As if I was doing this on purpose. I didn’t like the situation any more than he did.

  I tried to move, but it wasn’t easy. My arms barely touched the ground, and I couldn’t see at all. The guy’s sleeve was blocking Frank’s mouth hole. I didn’t know where to put my hands to push myself up. I just lay on top of the guy and flailed away with my arms as if I was paddling out to sea on a bad-tempered surfboard.