The Stupendous Dodgeball Fiasco Read Online Free PDF Page B

drawer to the cash register opened.
    “You have zero change,” the cash register said.
    “That is so cool,” said Phillip.
    “Have a nice day,” the man replied. Phillip looked around at the tables.
    “Is there any ketchup?”
    “What for?”
    “My potato chips.”
    “I’ll bring a bottle out.”
    Phillip made himself comfortable at a table near a window. The chair made a squeak each time he leaned forward to sip his root beer.
    “You know,” said the cashier, who was suddenly standing next to him holding a ketchup bottle, “you’re only the second person I’ve ever met who dips potato chips in ketchup. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Veola, would you?”
    “She’s my aunt,” said Phillip.
    “So you’re Veola’s nephew. She told me you were coming to live with her. My name is Sam.” He held out his hand. Phillip shook it, like Aunt Veola had shaken his.
    “I’m Phillip.”
    “You seem kind of down in the dumps, Phillip.”
    “How did you know that?”
    “Your tone of voice.”
    “I had a rough day,” Phillip admitted.
    “Sounds like the new-kid blues. It’s hard to get used to a strange new place,” said Sam. “Especially Hardingtown.”
    “Does everybody in Hardingtown play dodgeball?” Phillip asked.
    “They don’t call it the tuna-fish capital of the world,” said Sam. He went back to his cash register and rang up a smiling woman’s order. He chatted with the customers as he worked, and they returned his friendliness. He seemed like the kind of guy you could talk to. When Sam was done, he came back to Phillip’s table, the smell of Dodgeballburgers still clinging to his shirt.
    “Can I ask you a question, Sam?”
    “Go ahead.”
    “When you were a kid, did you ever feel like you were…” Phillip searched for the right words. “…like you were different?”
    “Sure. We’re all different,” said Sam. “That’s what makes us so much alike.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense,” said Phillip.
    “Yes, it does. Look at you and me. We’re about a world apart. We don’t look alike. We don’t sound alike. We don’t act alike. But already we’re friends.”
    “I guess,” said Phillip.
    “I’ll make you a deal,” Sam said. “Anytime you need someone to share your problems with, you come see me. Anytime I need someone to share my problems with, I’ll come see you.”
    Phillip could hardly imagine how this strong, dark man with the confident smile could ever need him for anything.Still, the thought that he had made a friend did make him feel better. So what if Sam wasn’t a kid his own age? Sam was cool.
    “Should we have a secret handshake?” Phillip asked.
    “How about a secret signal. A sound of some sort?” suggested Sam.
    Phillip liked the idea. He was used to signals. The Windy Van Hooten Circus band would play John Philip Sousa’s “The Stars and Stripes Forever” whenever they wanted to warn the circus workers that something was wrong. Phillip picked up the salt and pepper shakers and banged them together.
    Clink.
    “That’s good,” said Sam. “Anytime you need to talk, you give the signal and I’ll come over.”
    Phillip had a friend. He could hardly wait to tell Aunt Veola. During the car ride home, she wanted to hear about his day. He told her he had played his first dodgeball game. He skipped the part about climbing the rope and getting stuck and the janitor bringing a ladder. Then he told her he had made a friend who looked like he would be good at sports. Maybe he could give Phillip tips on dodgeball.
    “What’s the boy’s name?” she asked.
    “He’s not a boy,” Phillip explained. “I met him at the courthouse. His name is Sam.”
    “Sam what?”
    “I don’t know his last name,” said Phillip.
    “The only Sam I know who works in the courthouse is Sam Phoenix. He’s the cashier at the snack bar,” she said. “But Sam couldn’t give anyone tips on how to dodge balls.”
    “Why not?” Phillip asked.
    Aunt Veola replied,