now.
“Whoops! Sorry about that,” Fennimore said quickly, as he got up and retrieved the rice cake. “It was my fault. By accident the little rascal slipped right out of my hand.”
“Fennimore Adams, don’t you try to fool me. That was no accident. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times not to throw those rice cakes. I certainly appreciated your shenanigans onstage this afternoon, but I won’t stand for funny business in my home. Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It won’t happenagain,” he said, hanging his head.
Mrs. Adams rubbed her forehead and continued toward the kitchen.
“Fennimore, you didn’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m the one who hit your mom with the rice cake.”
“I know, but I owed you one,” he explained.
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you buzzed your head for me,” said Fennimore, “That was a pretty cool thing to do, Guy Wire.”
Suddenly I felt like I was flying. Had I heard him right? I knew I had. He’d just called me Guy Wire again. A person doesn’t take the blame for misfired rice cakes, or call someone by a nickname like that, unless he wants to be your friend. Good friend. Maybe even—But I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it, not even to myself.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you said you don’t really like that name, right?” he said.
“No, actually I like it just fine now,” I told him.
“Really? ’Cause I can come up with another one if you want.”
“No, it’s perfect. And since you gave me a nickname and everything, do you mind if I have for one you too?”
“Depends on what it is,” Fennimore said. “I’m not real partial to Southern Fried Chicken Boy, for instance.”
“I was thinking since it looks like you’re going to be sticking with that haircut, how about Buzz Cut for a nickname? Buzz for short.”
He ran his hand over his bristly head. Then he smiled at me.
“Cool,” he said.
“Jumbo cool,” I added with a big smile of my own.
Chapter Fifteen
“H oneylamb? Guysie?”
“Huh?” My head snapped back, and I tried to lift my heavy eyelids. “What’s the matter?” I said groggily. “What time is it?”
“It’s two in the morning,” said my mother.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at her.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Buzzy’s out of surgery, and they say if we’re really calm about it, we can see him.”
I jumped out of my chair and started talking a mile a minute.
“Is he okay then? Did they say how he is? He’s awake? That’s a good sign, right? Where is he? Let’s go.”
“Sweetie pleat, did you hear what I said?”my mother asked. “If you can be calm, you can see him. Calm. Okay?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“I can be calm,” I said.
My neck was stiff from sleeping sideways in the hard plastic chair, and one of my legs was sound asleep, but none of that mattered. I was going to see Buzz.
We took the elevator up to the third floor. Buzz was in the last room on the right. His mom and dad were standing by the bed. His mom was stroking his arm and talking real softly to him. His head was bandaged, and he still had the tubes and needles in him.
“Look who’s here, honey. It’s Guy. Guy’s here to see you.”
Buzz turned his head toward me.
“Hey, Buzz,” I said.
He didn’t say anything at first; he just gave me a look that went right through me. Then he turned his head back and closed his eyes.
“He’s not himself yet,” Mrs. Adams said. “I’m sure he’s glad you’re here, Guy.”
But I wasn’t so sure. That look he’d given me. Was I crazy, or was he trying to tell me he was mad at me? I needed to talk to him alone.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I said, “but could I be alone with Buzz for a minute?”
“I don’t know, Guy. He’s only been awake for a little while. He’s still very weak,” said Buzz’s mom.
“Please, just for a minute,” I asked. “There’s something I need to tell him.”
Mr.
“Whoops! Sorry about that,” Fennimore said quickly, as he got up and retrieved the rice cake. “It was my fault. By accident the little rascal slipped right out of my hand.”
“Fennimore Adams, don’t you try to fool me. That was no accident. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times not to throw those rice cakes. I certainly appreciated your shenanigans onstage this afternoon, but I won’t stand for funny business in my home. Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It won’t happenagain,” he said, hanging his head.
Mrs. Adams rubbed her forehead and continued toward the kitchen.
“Fennimore, you didn’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m the one who hit your mom with the rice cake.”
“I know, but I owed you one,” he explained.
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you buzzed your head for me,” said Fennimore, “That was a pretty cool thing to do, Guy Wire.”
Suddenly I felt like I was flying. Had I heard him right? I knew I had. He’d just called me Guy Wire again. A person doesn’t take the blame for misfired rice cakes, or call someone by a nickname like that, unless he wants to be your friend. Good friend. Maybe even—But I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it, not even to myself.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you said you don’t really like that name, right?” he said.
“No, actually I like it just fine now,” I told him.
“Really? ’Cause I can come up with another one if you want.”
“No, it’s perfect. And since you gave me a nickname and everything, do you mind if I have for one you too?”
“Depends on what it is,” Fennimore said. “I’m not real partial to Southern Fried Chicken Boy, for instance.”
“I was thinking since it looks like you’re going to be sticking with that haircut, how about Buzz Cut for a nickname? Buzz for short.”
He ran his hand over his bristly head. Then he smiled at me.
“Cool,” he said.
“Jumbo cool,” I added with a big smile of my own.
Chapter Fifteen
“H oneylamb? Guysie?”
“Huh?” My head snapped back, and I tried to lift my heavy eyelids. “What’s the matter?” I said groggily. “What time is it?”
“It’s two in the morning,” said my mother.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at her.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Buzzy’s out of surgery, and they say if we’re really calm about it, we can see him.”
I jumped out of my chair and started talking a mile a minute.
“Is he okay then? Did they say how he is? He’s awake? That’s a good sign, right? Where is he? Let’s go.”
“Sweetie pleat, did you hear what I said?”my mother asked. “If you can be calm, you can see him. Calm. Okay?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“I can be calm,” I said.
My neck was stiff from sleeping sideways in the hard plastic chair, and one of my legs was sound asleep, but none of that mattered. I was going to see Buzz.
We took the elevator up to the third floor. Buzz was in the last room on the right. His mom and dad were standing by the bed. His mom was stroking his arm and talking real softly to him. His head was bandaged, and he still had the tubes and needles in him.
“Look who’s here, honey. It’s Guy. Guy’s here to see you.”
Buzz turned his head toward me.
“Hey, Buzz,” I said.
He didn’t say anything at first; he just gave me a look that went right through me. Then he turned his head back and closed his eyes.
“He’s not himself yet,” Mrs. Adams said. “I’m sure he’s glad you’re here, Guy.”
But I wasn’t so sure. That look he’d given me. Was I crazy, or was he trying to tell me he was mad at me? I needed to talk to him alone.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I said, “but could I be alone with Buzz for a minute?”
“I don’t know, Guy. He’s only been awake for a little while. He’s still very weak,” said Buzz’s mom.
“Please, just for a minute,” I asked. “There’s something I need to tell him.”
Mr.
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