Free Barfing in the Backseat by Henry Winkler, Lin Oliver Page A

Dad.” Which it was. And,“I’ll answer that as soon as I get back from the bathroom.” Which I didn’t. Or, “My homework packet is just like this honey fried chicken…full of flavor and easy to digest.” I thought that one was especially clever.
    After dinner, Frankie and I started to yawn like sleepy puppies and claimed to be really tired from the stress of Katherine’s almost-illness. As soon as we could, we hurried to our room. We told my parents we wanted to get to bed early, but really, it was an excuse to get away from my dad’s questions. Even Hank Zipzer eventually runs out of fake answers.
    I barely slept, which was good because I was up first thing the next morning. By eight o’clock, I was circling the front desk waiting for the mail delivery. I must have asked Jimmy Jim when the mail was coming at least a thousand times. And when the mail delivery guy finally showed up and pulled that packet out of his bag, I pounced on it like a starving mouse on Swiss cheese. I mean, I clutched it to my chest and hugged it like a long-lost friend. I’m a little embarrassed to tell you, but I think I might have actually kissed it.
    “You must really love your dad, to care so much about his birthday present,” Jimmy Jim said. “Just give me a hint what’s inside there.”
    “It’s made out of paper,” I said. “And it’s something I’ve got to finish.”
    “Oh, a handmade gift,” Jimmy Jim said. “Those are the best kind. One year, I made Honey a bee out of saltwater taffy. Brought tears to her eyes, it did.”
    Jimmy Jim gave my back a nice, firm slap. I know it was supposed to be a sign of affection, but it hurt like crazy. That dude had some strong hands. I flashed him a big smile, trying not to say ouch, and turned to go back to my room with the packet. I hadn’t even finished my pivot when my dad appeared at the office door.
    “Dad!” I said. “Wow, this is a surprise.”
    “I came to pay our bill so we can get a nice early start,” he said. “I want to be all settled in Charlotte by the afternoon. Tomorrow’s the big day.”
    “Don’t we all know that,” Jimmy Jim grinned. My dad gave him an odd look, as if to say, “How do you know about the CrosswordPuzzle Tournament?”
    “A special day for someone very special,” Jimmy Jim went on. I had to stop him before he blew the whole thing wide open. I signaled him to cut the chatter, and he flashed me a knowing wink. I shoved the homework packet underneath my Mets sweatshirt and got out of there.
    The strangeness got a little stranger a few minutes later when we were piling our luggage in the car. Jimmy Jim came out of the office to help my dad arrange our suitcases in the back. As soon as the trunk was closed, he turned to my dad, slapped him on the back, and shook his hand like a water pump.
    “Many happy returns of the day,” he blurted.
    My father, who’s not exactly a people person anyway, got completely flustered.
    “That’s very kind of you, sir,” he said, “and I’ll certainly remember those words on my birthday.”
    “And we all know when that is, don’t we, boys?” Jimmy Jim said, giving us another of his big winks. This called for immediate action on my part.
    “Hey, Dad,” I shouted from the backseat. “We’d better step on it. You don’t want to miss registration.”
    My dad hopped in the car and put the key in the ignition.
    Turn the key, Dad. Put it in gear. Step on the gas. And wave bye-bye to Jimmy Jim, Honey, and the bees.
    Wow, that sounded like a rock group.
    As we pulled out, I checked to make sure my homework packet was tucked safely in my backpack. It was.
    The only thing I had to do was complete it before we got to Charlotte and the Colossus Coaster Kingdom.
    No problem. So what if I had a phone-book-size packet of math and reading and vocab to do.
    I can handle that. I’m Hank Zipzer, the homework king.
    Yeah, right!

M Y DAD ESTIMATED the total driving time to Charlotte to be three hours and