See You Around, Sam! Read online

  "It's certainly the first rigatoni igloo I've ever seen," Mr. Krupnik said.

  "It's in honor of Sam," Mr. Watson explained, "even though I'm very glad he decided to stay here after all. Probably someday Sam will visit Alaska."

  "Yes, probably someday," Sam said.

  "Eek," Mr. Watson said suddenly, in a low, puzzled voice. No one seemed to hear him, but Sam looked around, wondering briefly again if the mailman had seen a mouse, or some other kind of creature. There were never any mice in the Krupniks' house, although once Anastasia's gerbils had gotten out of their cage. But Sam didn't see anything scurrying past in the corners, the way they had occasionally seen the gerbils until they were captured.

  "And," Sam's dad went on, ignoring—or maybe not hearing—Lowell Watson's "eek"—"there's a little gift in front of each plate. You can open them after dessert."

  Sam climbed down from Mr. Fosburgh's lap and ran eagerly into the dining room. Sure enough, a small wrapped package was at each place. And it wasn't even anyone's birthday, or Christmas.

  Someone lifted Kelly into the highchair, and while Kelly banged a spoon loudly on the tray, Mrs. Krupnik served lasagna and they passed a big bowl of salad around. Sam heaped his Little Engine That Could plate with food and felt very glad that he had been so mature and had changed his mind.

  He wondered, though, about two things. He wondered what the little presents were. Also, watching the mailman's lips move once again, Sam wondered nervously why Mr. Watson was murmuring "Eek" so often.

  "That must be the Harveys at the back door," Mrs. Krupnik said as she was clearing the plates. "She brought over a pie earlier—"

  "Cherry?" asked Sam, hoping that it was.

  "No, I think it's apple. But it looks yummy, Sam. Anyway, then she went back to serve their dinner, and here they are for dessert, with Mr. Harvey and Steve. Anastasia, if you go let them in, I'll start slicing pies."

  Sam's father brought more chairs from the kitchen—and three more little wrapped gifts for the newest guests—and the Harveys joined the group around the table.

  Tasting the warm cinnamon-flavored apple pie, with a small slice of banana cream waiting, Sam looked happily around the table at all of his friends and family. How could he have thought about running away to lie in a pile of walruses, when right here, right in his own neighborhood, were so many people who needed him so much?

  Mr. Fosburgh, unless he went soon to a hypnotist, would probably set fire to his house once again, and Sam would have to go out to supervise the hook-and-ladder truck as it rescued him one more time.

  Gertrude Stein, with the cat-racks on her eyes, would still depend on Sam to tell her what color things were, to help consume the cookies that she baked each day, and to wind her tall clock with its special key.

  "Since I didn't go to Alaska, please can I wind your clock in November?" he asked Mrs. Stein eagerly.

  "Why, of course," Mrs. Stein replied. "And December and January, too, Sam."

  "And please can I help Kelly blow out the birthday cake candle?" he asked Mrs. Sheehan.

  "We're counting on it," Mrs. Sheehan told him.

  Sam looked at Mr. Watson, trying to figure out ways in which he could help the mailman, now that he wouldn't be going to Alaska. But Mr. Watson, who had finished his pie, was sitting quietly at his place, with his eyes closed. "Eek," he was saying. "Eek."

  One by one, except for Kelly, who was busy smearing banana cream pie all over the highchair tray, everyone stopped talking, put down their forks, and stared at Mr. Watson.

  Finally Mrs. Krupnik said gently, "Lowell? Is something wrong?"

  Lowell Watson opened his eyes, grinned broadly, and said in a loud, satisfied voice, "99578!"

  "Excuse me?" Mrs. Krupnik replied, with a worried look.

  "It was driving me crazy that I couldn't think of it," Mr. Watson said. "It's the ZIP code for Eek."

  "Eek?" several people said at once.

  "It's a town in Alaska," Mr. Watson explained. "I'm not exactly sure of the location."

  "Well," Mr. Fosburgh said, "luckily, we happen to have a terrific atlas right here. Sam, is it still in your traveling bag?"

  Sam nodded.

  "Shall we find Eek for Mr. Watson?"

  Sam frowned. He didn't really care that much about Alaska anymore. "Maybe later," he said. "Right now, let's open our presents."

  11

  Mrs. Krupnik smiled. "Well," she said, "this afternoon, after I invited you all over, I thought it might be fun to have little door prizes. So I called Sam's dad at his office and asked if he'd mind running an errand—"

  Myron Krupnik grinned. "I was in the middle of a very boring meeting," he said. "So I was happy to have an excuse to go shopping."

  "I could have done it myself, of course, but I was hoping that at any minute Sam might decide to come home."

  "I didn't," Sam said. "I just kept traveling all afternoon. I traveled around in a big circle. And now I can see you all around!" he said. "And you can see me around, too!"

  "See you around, Sam," Mr. Watson replied cheerfully.

  Kelly Sheehan looked up, laughed, and banged one small fist on the highchair tray.

  "Does Kelly know about circles?" Sam asked with interest.

  "I don't think so," Kelly's mom replied. "Not yet."

  "You have to learn shapes before you start nursery school," Sam told her. "You have to know shapes and how to go to the bathroom."

  "Oh, dear," Kelly's mom said. "Maybe you could help us work on both of those things with Kelly."

  "I will," Sam promised. There was going to be a lot for him to do in the neighborhood, now that he wasn't going to Alaska. He hadn't realized how much everybody needed him.

  Anastasia gave him a look. Sam cringed a little, but he was grateful that his sister hadn't told anybody that he had wet his pants that afternoon. It was tough, when you were traveling, to attend to everything.

  "Earth to Sam," his mother said.

  "Sorry," Sam said, and started listening again.

  "Anyway," Mrs. Krupnik went on, "Sam's dad did the buying, after I gave him instructions. And I wrapped everything. Some of you got identical gifts. Let's see—Steve? You and your father have the same. Why don't you open yours?"

  So Mr. Harvey and Steve opened their gifts while everyone watched. Then while everyone still watched, they put on their glasses with fake noses attached and posed. Sam giggled. Steve Harvey's father was a sportscaster for the local TV channel, and they'd all seen him looking very handsome on television while he described the Celtics games. Now he looked like a clown.

  So did Steve. He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

  "Next?" Mrs. Krupnik said, "Let's see. Lowell. Why don't you try yours?"

  So Lowell Watson opened his little package, took out his fake mustache, and pasted it carefully to his upper lip. It was a blond mustache, which looked a little odd on Mr. Watson, who was an African American; but he wore it with dignity and looked quite sophisticated. "I think I might try wearing it to choir practice at my church," he announced. "Thank you, Katherine."

  "Myron, you know what yours is, because you bought it. But open it anyway. And Mr. Fosburgh, yours is just the same as Myron's." Sam watched as Mr. Fosburgh and his father both unwrapped plas tic cigars. They inserted them into their mouths and puffed dramatically.

  "Maybe, Myron, you could puff on that instead of your pipe?" Mrs. Krupnik suggested. She really hated her husband's pipe. "And Mr. Fosburgh..."

  Mr. Krupnik and Mr. Fosburgh both looked guilty and miserable. They continued chewing on their plastic cigars.

  "It's very grown-up to change your mind about things," Sam told them.

  Mr. Fosburgh sighed. "I know," he said. "I'm going to the hypnotist soon."

  Myron Krupnik sighed. "I'll go with you," he said with a mournful look.

  Sam hoped his would be next. He wondered if he would get a cigar, but hoped not. He really, really wanted a fake nose. He could see that the glasses hooked
around your ears like real glasses, and the nose fit right over your real nose. Sam could imagine the amazed looks at nursery school when he arrived wearing a big pink fake nose.

  But his mother turned to the women: Mrs. Stein, Mrs. Sheehan, and Mrs. Harvey. She smiled at them apologetically.

  "I'm afraid I ran out of ideas for the women," she explained. "So ours are all the same. Mine, too, and Anastasia's." Sam's mom began to unwrap her package. So did his sister, and the women guests.

  They each took out bright red wax lips. Gertrude Stein inserted hers into her mouth and looked around the room with a very haughty look. Sam started to laugh.

  Anastasia tried to put her lips on but she was laughing too hard. Finally, after a couple of tries, she had the lips in the right place, and she posed with Steve, in his glasses and nose, who was sitting beside her.

  Sam stared at his mother, who actually looked a little scary to him with the big bright lips. He heard a wail, and realized that Kelly, too, was wide-eyed, frightened, and beginning to cry. Mrs. Sheehan quickly took her lips off and smiled at her baby.

  Kelly stopped crying and reached for the red lips.

  "Those are just for the ladies, Kelly," Sam said.

  "It's okay," Mrs. Sheehan told him. She handed Kelly her wax lips. "Kelly's a little lady, after all."

  "Oh," said Sam. "Oh!" Funny, he thought, how finally you figured stuff out if you paid attention.

  "Yuzheonnny—" Anastasia began to say. She took her lips off and tried again. "You're the only one left, Sam," Anastasia said. "What's yours?"

  "Go ahead, Sam," his mother told him.

  So Sam picked up his present. He felt it through the wrapping. It felt very familiar. It felt familiar because he'd been feeling something exactly like it all afternoon, in his pocket.

  Slowly he unwrapped the plastic fangs. He held them in his hand and looked at them a long time. Then he looked at his mom.

  She was smiling at him. "Will you forgive me, Sam?" she asked. "I've changed my mind."

  "It's a very grown-up thing to change your mind," Sam said once again. He turned the fangs around in his hand and thought that it would be polite, since they were a gift, to insert them into his mouth.

  "But I changed my mind, too," he said to his mother at last. "Would it be okay if I trade them for a nose?"