Free Almost Starring Skinnybones by Barbara Park

floor?”
    “Knock it off, Frankovitch,” growled Albert. “If you don’t knock it off, you’re going to mess up the whole play.
    “Now let’s take it from the top again,” he ordered, “and this time get it right.
    “Knock, knock, knock.”
    “Please do come in, Mr. Scrooge,” repeated Skylar,trying not to laugh. “What a surprise this is!”
    “Surprise, yes, I’m full of surprises,” said Albert, again. “Why, look here, Cratchit! These must be your fine children!”
    “Yes, sir, they are. Let me introduce you, Mr. Scrooge. This is Tiny Tim, my youngest.”
    Cautiously, Albert held out his hand again. “And how are you this glorious Christmas Day, my boy?”
    This time I shook his hand. “How do I look? Do I look healthy to you? Does this look like a healthy little body?”
    Albert’s face got red, but he decided to ignore me.
    He turned to Annabelle. “And you, gentle lady, you must be Mrs. Cratchit?” he continued.
    Annabelle curtsied. “Pleased to meet you, sir. Bob has told us a great deal about you.”
    I tapped Albert on the arm. “Her father’s a clown, you know,” I informed him pleasantly.
    Skylar Fox started laughing. The rest of the kids sitting there did too. Everyone but Albert and Annabelle, that is. Albert and Annabelle practically exploded right out of their chairs. Then the two of them ran to the stage to tell Mr. Tilton.
    You could hear Albert’s voice echoing all over the school. “He’s going to mess it up! I know he is! He’s just waiting to mess it up!”
    I sat back and grinned.

  
9
  
    M y mother invited
the entire world to the play. She bought fifteen tickets and gave them away to anyone she could think of. She even gave one to my cousin Leon. The one with the grubby paws.
    I guess I should have cared—all those people seeing me in such a humiliating part—but I didn’t. I think I was past caring. And besides, I had Albert and Annabelle so nervous, it was almost worth the humiliation.
    On the night of the play I hadn’t even put my stuff down before Annabelle started making her stupid threats.
    “I’m warning you, Alex,” she blurted, standing there in her dumb Mrs. Cratchit outfit. “If you ruin this play, my father will see to it that you never work in show business again.”
    I looked her over. “Nice costume, Annabelle. The city dump will surprise you sometimes.”
    She stomped her foot.
    “I
mean
it, Alex! I’m not kidding!”
    I winked. “Neither am I, Mumsy.”
    Annabelle stormed away in such a frenzy, she didn’t even notice Albert Ruppert coming through the door.
    He was being so quiet, I almost missed him myself.
    His Scrooge costume was in his hand. But instead of putting it on, he sat down in the closest chair and doubled over like he had just been punched in the stomach.
    The expression on his face looked familiar. It’s the same one you get when you’re eating over at a friend’s house and the kid’s mother makes you try a new vegetable. It’s usually brownish green, and it tastes so gross you can’t swallow it; and you can’t talk, and you can’t spit it out. So you just sit there with this horrible expression until you figure out what to do with it. Usually I pretend to cough and spit it in my napkin. If I don’t have a napkin, I put it in my pocket.
    Anyway, the night of the play I watched Albert for several minutes before it finally dawned on me what was wrong.…
    Albert Ruppert had stage fright! The more Iwatched his face, the more positive I became. Old Albert Ruppert wasn’t as sure of himself as he pretended to be.
    A big grin began to spread across my face.
Hmmm
, I said silently.
Should I, or shouldn’t I
?
Does Albert deserve a little teasing, or doesn’t he
?
    I thought back to that day in English class, the day after my commercial, when Albert had stood up and pretended to play the violin while everyone laughed. My grin got bigger. I had my answer.
    Slowly, I sauntered over to where he was sitting and smiled