Apr 25, 2017 5 min read

The story so far: Nick and his best friend, Clay, have decided how they will make enough money for a world record.

Still on his back, his bloody jeans half off and binding his knees, Clay frantically pushed himself headfirst across the floor with his feet, looking like a giant inchworm that had been attacked by a humongous bird. As the footsteps clumped closer, he hissed at Nick, “Do something! I don’t want my mother to see these jeans!” He struggled toward his closet, inch by inch.

As Nick turned toward the door, the clumping footsteps stopped. He turned on his brightest smile, hoping that would keep Clay’s mother from suspecting anything was wrong. He slipped into the door’s opening, trying to look casual.

Instead of Clay’s mother, Nick found himself smiling at Jazz, who stood just outside the bedroom, holding a filthy T-shirt, an enormous pair of gardening clogs over her own shoes.

Nick’s smile vanished. “Jazz! What are you doing? You scared the pants off us!”

“Yeah!” Clay said, hobbling behind Nick, pulling up his jeans. He took the shirt from Jazz and studied it. His anger disappeared. “Wow! This is disgusting! Thanks!” He popped it over his head. “Let’s get a move on.”

Nick hesitated. Clay had been so scared about his mother seeing the jeans. “I don’t know about this,” he said.

“About begging?”

“Yeah. We aren’t poor. And you dressing up like that is, I don’t know, like cheating.”

Clay frowned. “No, it isn’t. What about being a hobo for Halloween? Or a witch? Is that wrong?”

“Well, no. That’s different!”

“No it’s not,” Clay said. “Come on. Before my mom really gets home.” If what they were doing was all right, why was Clay so spooked? Nick wondered.

They quickly finished their posterboard signs and crept downstairs. They collected the grocery bag and sneaked outside, hiding the bag by the garbage cans next to the garage.

“One more thing,” Clay said. He stooped, grabbing a handful of soil. He rubbed it on his hair and face and then shook his head like a dog. “How do I look?”

“Filthy,” Nick said. Jazz nodded enthusiastically. “Only shouldn’t you smell as bad as you look?” Nick reached for a garbage can lid. “What about rubbing some of this …”

“No way!” Clay snorted. “Come on. We’re losing money just standing here flapping our lips.”

As they walked toward the neighborhood mini-mall, Clay stayed behind Nick and Jazz so that he was shielded from people staring. Several people gaped anyway, making big detours around them on the sidewalk.

When they got to the mini-mall’s parking lot, Nick turned to Clay, taking his sister’s hand. “We’ll go over there, by the Scudsy-Sudsy Laundromat.” He pointed.

Clay nodded. “I’ll stand by the front of Jerry’s Super-Duper Grocery.” Clay smiled. “Lights! Camera! Action!”

Nick watched as Clay walked through a line of parked cars. Clay’s sneakers looked too new and expensive for a homeless person. Nick wondered if it would ruin Clay’s luck and if he should tell him to go barefoot.

Naw, he said to himself. He wanted to make more money than Clay, anyway. He turned to Jazz. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Yep!”

There was a line of benches in the front of the Laundromat, where people sat while their clothes were washing or drying. The benches were empty, so Nick walked to one in the middle. He helped Jazz stand on it and turned the sign right-side up for her to hold. Nick glanced toward Jerry’s Super-Duper. Clay was holding up his sign. From this distance, Clay looked like he could really be homeless.

Several people walking into or out of the Scudsy-Sudsy glanced their way, but nobody stopped. “Let’s move closer to the door,” Nick said, helping Jazz to the next bench.

A dog in a car parked in front of them began to bark. Nick turned to look. It was a mutt, small with scooped ears of different sizes. The moment it saw Nick staring, it began to snarl and lunge toward the windshield.

“Nobody’s going to want to hear jokes around that!” Nick bared his teeth at the dog and shook his head.

The dog paused and then shot to the side of the car. It seemed to scramble up the passenger window, hooking its paws on the top where the window was open. With a mighty growl-bark, it heaved up and squeezed over the glass. It fell in a heap on the ground and scrambled to its feet, tail straight up, mouth open and eyes squinted.

With a furious bark, it came for Nick and Jazz.

Next Week: A back-scratching thing