Ask My Mood Ring How I Feel Read online

  Now and then, we met someone who had an experience with illness. One person, for example, had a cousin with cerebral palsy, and another, a grandmother with leukemia. They were more than happy to donate. We went through several mushrooms, and after an hour, we had four yeses, eight nos, and countless unanswered doors.

  Getting five hundred people to sponsor me was not going to be easy.

  30 QUARTERS

  We never missed church on Sundays. During mass, we made petitions, which meant thanking God or asking Him to help us. Last year, I mostly asked God to help me with my Boyfriend Wish List—no miracles like the cutest guy in school becoming my boyfriend, but small things like moving from a close encounter of the first kind to a close encounter of the second kind. This year, asking for help with boyfriends seemed so immature. Sure, I was still boy crazy. How could I not be? There were so many cute guys in the world. And Derek had been talking to me every day. We were definitely having close encounters of the third kind. But I couldn’t waste my petitions on boyfriends anymore. Last night, Mom ate applesauce and toast with strawberry jelly. She didn’t throw up, and we all cheered like during a Super Bowl. But by seven thirty, she was completely exhausted. She tried to stay awake and watch videos with us, but she fell asleep sitting on the couch. Dad told us to turn down the volume, and then he helped her to the bedroom. We finished the movie, but then Jimmy still needed a bath. I couldn’t let him go to sleep all dirty, so I got the tub ready for him. The whole time he fought me and cried, “Gimme Mommy! Gimme Mommy!” And when I tried to read him a bedtime story, he grabbed the book, threw it to the floor, and cried for her again. That’s when Dad came in and told me to settle Jimmy down.

  “I am settling him down,” I said, all frustrated, “but he’s not listening.”

  Eventually, Jimmy wore himself out. He wore me out too, but my night wasn’t over. When I walked into the bedroom, Carmen had toppled over a big jar where we dumped spare coins. She was sorting them. “And then I’m going to count them,” she explained.

  “Tonight?”

  She nodded. I didn’t want the light on, and I didn’t want to hear her mumbling numbers. But I was so tired, and since it took too much energy to fight, I just put on my earphones and listened to my iPod. Normally, good music calmed me down, but my mood ring was the amber color that meant I felt unsettled, probably because I couldn’t help thinking that even though only Mom had cancer, my entire family seemed sick.

  On Sunday, I was still thinking this at church, so during petition time, I closed my eyes and asked—no, begged—for help. “And for my part,” I prayed, “I’m going to work on my promesa.”

  Keeping my promise, I changed into some comfortable clothes as soon as I got home. I wore a T-shirt that had a picture of the Abominable Snowman with a caption that read, “Yeti or not, here I come.” I grabbed my clipboard and headed out, approaching the cul-de-sac with more determination than Jimmy when he wanted an ice-cream cone. Most of these neighbors didn’t answer yesterday. Maybe they weren’t home at the time. Maybe I’d have better luck now, especially since it was Sunday. Weren’t people nicer on Sundays after they came back from church?

  I knocked on the first door. Nothing. I knocked on the second. Nothing again. The third person answered but quickly said, “I already give to charities,” and the fourth one said, “I have diabetes. Are you going to raise money for my diabetes, too?”

  What was wrong with these people? Any amount was acceptable. I’d take one dollar if that’s all they could afford.

  I looked at their houses. They had two-car garages, chimneys, and automated sprinkler systems. Many had signs that let everyone know about their security alarms. Security alarms meant expensive stuff inside. If they could buy expensive stuff, then surely they could donate five bucks to a good cause. So why were they being so selfish?

  I was getting angry. I wanted to stand in the middle of the street and scream, “I hate this neighborhood!” But I didn’t. Instead, I dragged my feet, dreading the next doorbell. At one point, a little dog joined me. He had white fur that was all muddy. He stayed with me for a whole cul-de-sac, and then he disappeared.

  I decided to try one more set of houses. I walked up to the first door, pushed the button, and heard the ding-dong and then some footsteps. I knew someone was spying on me from the other side of the peephole, so I rang the doorbell again. A few seconds passed, and then a man answered.

  “Weren’t you here yesterday?” he asked. “You and another girl?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But you didn’t answer.”

  “Because I don’t like to be bothered.”

  How rude, I thought, wanting to walk away but remembered my mom and stood firm.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” I said.

  “Then why did you? And why are you here today? You’re not selling Girl Scout cookies, are you? Those things are overpriced, if you ask me.”

  “No, sir. I’m not a Girl Scout.”

  “Then why are you carrying that order form? You want money, don’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “You kids,” he said as if being a kid were the worst thing in the world. “I can’t go one week without some kid bugging me for money. First, it’s the school band. Then it’s the church choir. And always those Girl Scouts. Haven’t you kids heard of working for things?”

  “I am working for it,” I blurted. “If you’ll only let me explain. I plan to walk in this year’s Race for the Cure. It’s for breast cancer, and the reason it matters so much is because my mom’s sick. She had an operation this past summer, and now she’s getting radiation treatments. They’re making her sick, but it’s all the doctors know how to do. So I’m out here, ringing doorbells, working, to raise some money. But if that isn’t enough for you, I’ll wash your car or mow your lawn or bathe your dog if you have one. I’m not asking for a lot. Just whatever you can spare.” I had to catch my breath after all that.

  He stared at me a moment. I thought for sure he’d slam the door in my face, but he didn’t.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” he finally said. Then he pulled out his wallet and handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “You don’t have to wash my car or anything.”

  “Thanks,” I said, handing him the clipboard.

  He signed my sponsor form, and as he returned it, he said, “You keep bothering people, okay?”

  “I will,” I said.

  He smiled, and then he shut the door. This was going to be tough, but maybe it wouldn’t be impossible.

  I spent another hour bugging people. A few more offered to help, but most ignored me or gave an excuse. Maybe going door-to-door wasn’t the best strategy, but I didn’t know how else to reach people.

  I was about to head home when I heard a familiar voice calling, “Rover! Hey, boy! Where are you?” Sure enough, GumWad turned the corner. He carried a stack of papers in one hand and a dog leash in the other. From a distance, he looked like a normal guy, even a little cute, though his arms and belly were a bit soft.

  “Hey, GumWad!” I called. “Over here.”

  He spotted me and jogged over. “Didn’t think I’d see you today. What are you doing out here?” He smacked a yellow piece of gum.

  “I’m working on my social studies project,” I explained.

  “Me too.” He blew a bubble, popped it, and licked the gum off his upper lip. “Look here,” he said, handing me the stack of papers. They were “lost dog” signs. One had a caption that read, “Have you seen me?” over a picture of a sad-eyed dog that reminded me of Jimmy when he didn’t get what he begged for. The others were like police descriptions with the color, size, and breed of dog. All of them had reward amounts.

  “Are you sure you aren’t going to keep the rewards?” I asked.

  “No. I really want to find these dogs. I don’t care about the money at all.”

  He seemed a little mad as if I’d accused him of something awful. Maybe I should have apologized, but I didn’t do anything wro
ng. Honestly, if I found a lost dog, I’d keep the reward, and no one would think I was a bad person. We stood there without saying a word, the only sound his constant smacking. Being alone with GumWad was… awkward. Usually the other Robins were around so I hardly noticed him, but out here, away from school and alone, I had to notice him. But I didn’t want to look at his face, so I looked at the dog posters instead. That’s when I saw a picture of the muddy white dog.

  “I just saw him!” I exclaimed.

  “Really?” GumWad beamed. “Where?”

  “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

  I hurried to the last place I saw him. Now that I knew his name, I could call out. “Max! Come here, Max!” GumWad called for him, too. It took a while, but eventually, the muddy white dog appeared. He ran to me, all happy. While I petted him, GumWad checked his dog tag. Sure enough, he was the one on the poster. We managed to get the leash on him, and then we walked him home.

  “Did you see how happy those people were?” GumWad said after we returned Max.

  “Max seemed happy, too. I bet he hadn’t eaten in days.”

  “And he was probably drinking water from a ditch,” GumWad added. Then, “Speaking of thirsty dogs, do you want to get a Slush from Sonic?”

  “Are you calling me a dog?”

  “No,” he said. “I just thought you’d want a drink since you’ve been working so hard to get names for your mom.”

  Great. I didn’t look like a dog; instead, I looked like someone who was about to pass out after working so hard.

  I didn’t really want to spend more time with GumWad, but how could I turn down an opportunity to go to Sonic, especially when the cute high school boys liked to go there, too? Besides, it was close by, right at the end of the major street that branched into the cul-de-sacs.

  “Sure,” I said, “I’ll go, but I don’t have any money.” I glanced at the manila envelope. “This is for my project,” I explained.

  “Don’t worry. I got cash.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of quarters. I’d never seen so many quarters in my life. He must have had thirty. “See?” he said. “I got enough here for a hamburger too, if you want.”

  “Okay, okay.” I laughed. “Let’s go, then.”

  I sent a text to my dad, telling him where I was going and when to pick me up. Then GumWad and I headed to Sonic. As we walked, he told me about his gumball machine, how his parents bought it one Christmas and how they gave him enough quarters to buy the gum. When he ran out, his mom bought a fresh supply. Then he took the quarters from the machine and started over. The same quarters have been going into that machine since he was eight.

  We both ordered lime Slushes at Sonic, and GumWad surprised me by throwing out his gum instead of sticking it to the side of his cup. While we enjoyed our cool drinks, he told me about the dog he lost when he was in kindergarten, how he never got over it.

  “That’s the real-life story of why I’m looking for lost dogs,” he explained.

  “You’re too sentimental.”

  He said, “Just because I care doesn’t mean I’m sentimental.” He was so serious when he said this, but then he started to laugh. “You can put that on one of your ‘used-to’ T-shirts.” My face must have looked confused because he added, “I used to be sentimental but now I care too much. Get it?”

  After a moment, I got the joke and laughed. “You’re right,” I said. “That’s a perfect line for a T-shirt. I’m going to write that down.” And I did, right on my manila envelope.

  GumWad talked on about the cool rides at Disney World, where his family had spent vacation, but I hardly paid attention because I had already heard his Disney World story. Besides, a sporty black Volkswagen had parked at the ordering console right in front of me. When the tinted window rolled down and the driver leaned out to push the call button, I saw a god. Honestly, a god. Not like the God at church, but like the gods in mythology, the ones with long hair and bulging muscles, the ones who rescued helpless mortals like me from evil stepmothers or seven-headed monsters. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was a shiny new toy, and my eyes were Jimmy begging, “Gimme, gimme.” And then he caught me staring. He rubbed his eyes. To get a better look? Then he winked. I couldn’t believe it. He winked!

  “What are you looking at?” GumWad said, turning around and seeing the VW guy I was secretly calling Thor. “Are you staring at him?”

  I could only sigh.

  “Why are you staring at him?”

  “Because he’s super handsome and because he’s winking at me. Can you believe a cute guy like that is flirting with me?”

  “He’s not winking,” GumWad said. “He’s got something in his eye. Either that or his contacts are bothering him.”

  I studied the guy’s frantic winking. Okay, maybe Thor’s contacts were bothering him. That’s probably why he kept rubbing his eyes. But it didn’t matter because he was handsome even with all those tears and blinks.

  “When guys are flirting,” GumWad went on, “they wink in a different way.”

  “Like how?”

  He ran his hand across his face as if erasing a chalkboard. Then, he opened his eyes, looked at me, and winked, putting his whole cheek and forehead into it. Seriously, he squeezed half his face.

  “That’s not flirtatious at all,” I said. “You look like Popeye.”

  “Let me try again,” he insisted. “I got all nervous.”

  “Why would you be nervous? It’s just me.”

  He didn’t answer. He just looked away for a minute.

  After a while, he said, “That guy’s old enough to be in high school. He’s probably old enough to be in college.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “You should be interested in guys your own age, not guys like him. He’s too old for you.”

  “Says who?” I asked. “At most, he’s six years older than me. I’ve got an aunt and uncle who are eight years apart, and they get along just fine. Besides, I’ll be in high school next year.” I glanced at my mood ring. “Look, it’s purple!” I lifted my hand to GumWad’s confused face. “The stone is purple!”

  “So?”

  “So that’s the color of smoldering passion.”

  “How can you feel passion for someone you don’t even know?”

  “It’s called ‘love at first sight.’ People have been writing poems about it since forever.”

  GumWad frowned. He probably hadn’t discovered love poems yet.

  Just then, Dad pulled into the parking lot and waved me over.

  “Gotta go,” I said. “Thanks for the Slush.”

  “Sure. You’re welcome. Anytime. We should—”

  I hopped into the car, and as Dad drove away, I glanced back to get another glimpse of Thor, but GumWad was blocking my view.

  1 SILLY DREAM

  On Monday, Mr. Leyva announced that we would have a math test later in the week. This wasn’t a pretest. This would be a recorded grade. I panicked just thinking about it. Luckily, I was doing well in my other classes, especially social studies. Mrs. Gardner asked us to discuss our projects. Some of the students hadn’t started yet, but I was right on schedule. I talked about asking for sponsors, and GumWad talked about searching for dogs, running into me, and having Slushes at Sonic.

  After everyone gave an update, Mrs. Gardner said, “Since a few of you are behind, let’s take fifteen minutes to catch up. Write out a plan for accomplishing your goal, and for those who have already tried the first steps, write a narrative about your experience so far.”

  “How do I write out a plan for picking up trash?” Patty whispered. She was definitely resisting this assignment, but she opened her notebook anyway.

  I took out my own paper and wrote, “My friend Patty said people would tear off their own toenails before helping me raise money for cancer research. I didn’t believe her, but now I know she’s right.” I went on, describing in detail all the variations of “can’t help” I’d heard as I knocked on door after door. Then, bec
ause I hated to be so negative, I described the people who did help, like Mrs. Alderete and the man who thought I was a Girl Scout.

  “Finish your thoughts,” Mrs. Gardner said when the class was about to end. I completed my sentence and then glanced at Patty’s page. She had drawn a tattered cardboard box, a crushed soda can, and a banana peel.

  “Trash,” she said. Then she tore out the page and wadded it. “Real trash.”

  I had to take my science book to the cafeteria. I hadn’t read the assigned chapter because I was so busy with my promesa over the weekend. I was frantically skimming the pages when Patty arrived.

  “Why are you studying during lunch?” she asked.

  “Because I have a quiz this afternoon, and I didn’t have a chance to study.” I quickly glanced over the bold print words in the chapter and tried to memorize the definitions, but concentrating was difficult when my friends were nearby.

  As soon as Shawntae took her seat at the lunch table, she said, “GumWad and Iliana told me about your weekend.”

  I glanced at them, and they nodded.

  I couldn’t believe my friends were talking about me again. When were they going to stop sharing my business with the whole world? Even if they weren’t saying anything negative, it still bothered me. Shawntae must have noticed because she said, “I’m your friend, remember? I need to know these things. Besides, I knew you wouldn’t get a lot of names. I dreamed it. You should have talked to me. I could have saved you some time.”

  “And when exactly did you have this dream?” I asked, feeling myself getting impatient. Honestly, I had a lot on my mind. The last thing I needed was to hear another one of Shawntae’s fake predictions.

  “Friday night, before you went looking for sponsors.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

  Shawntae crossed her arms. “Yes, you’re supposed to believe me. Just ask Patty. She knows all about my dream.”

  Patty was tearing her napkin in half, but she stopped in the middle of the rip, looked at Shawntae, and said, “You told me you dreamed that Erica and GumWad were looking for candy in a dark, scary forest and that it must mean they were going to dress up as Hansel and Gretel for Halloween.”