“Ahhh!” TJ whipped off the hat and flipped it over.
A big brown bug rolled down into the middle of the hat and landed on its back with its little feet in the air—not moving at all.
TJ’s eyes got big. “Spike?”
“Oh my!” Professor Reese said.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“No!” TJ cried.
Because if Spike was in the hat, that meant that Spike had just been teleported—and we didn’t know if he was OK or not.
14Caveman vs. Zombie Cheerleader
“Spike? Are you OK?” asked TJ, and we all, even Baxter, leaned in to get a better look at Spike lying on his back, inside the hat.
“I’ve never teleported anything alive before,” Professor Reese said quietly. “I don’t know if the reconfiguration instructions can put a living being back together.”
Spike looked the same. His little bug antennas still stuck out from the sides of his hard brown head. He still had six spiky bug legs and his long bug abdomen. But his bug antennas weren’t wiggling, and the spiky legs weren’t kicking.
Professor Reese shook her head. “I don’t know if the instructions were detailed enough to restart his respiratory and circulatory systems.”
Which meant she didn’t know if Spike’s little bug heart would ever beat again.
“Spike?” TJ tried once more. But Spike lay still.
“I’m so sorry, TJ.” Professor Reese put her hand on his arm. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he felt anything.”
And that’s when I thought I saw an antenna twitch. “Wait!”
We all leaned in closer. Baxter started panting. “Come on, buddy!” TJ said.
And then there was a kick. And another. And another. And then all six spiky little legs were kicking like crazy as Spike tried to get right side up again.
“Yay!” I yelled because even though a bug on its back kicking its legs was still gross, it wasn’t just a bug anymore, it was Spike.
“I knew you could do it!” TJ put his finger down into the hat and tipped Spike over so he could stand on his little spiky feet again. Then TJ tucked the hat up against his stomach to keep Spike safe, and we all hurried back to Professor Reese’s.
TJ spent the rest of the afternoon giving us updates on Spike in his tank. “He’s eating an apple slice,” he told us as I cuddled Baxter. Meanwhile, Professor Reese was scribbling her notes as fast as she could because Spike was the first living being to teleport! And survive! Who knew a big bug would make scientific history!
“He’s walking on the roof of his bark house,” TJ said.
“Spike’s all better.” I smiled at Baxter.
He grinned back.
TJ probably would have stayed in the lab forever, telling us what Spike was doing, but I noticed on the clock that we’d been there a long time, maybe longer than Mom would think an opportunity to be dependable should take. “We better go home, TJ.”
But when I noodled Baxter’s ears to say good-bye, he whined and pulled his head away. “Oh! Professor Reese! I forgot to tell you—I think Baxter’s ear is sick,” and I told her how it had been bothering him all afternoon.
Professor Reese frowned. “Hmm. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight.”
I gave Baxter a little scritch between his shoulder blades. “I’ll check on you tomorrow morning, OK?” I nodded, and Baxter nodded back.
That night after dinner, TJ worked on his stop-motion short. After 114 pictures, Caveman had run step by step across the table. Zombie Cheerleader had jumped out from behind the building. Now Caveman raised his club while Zombie Cheerleader whapped his head with her pom-poms.
Picture by picture, the battle was about to start.
I went into my room and walked over to the bookcase. I wanted to see what the dog books said about ear infections. Baxter had two of the symptoms: shaking his head and scratching his ear. Plus, he didn’t like getting his ears noodled anymore. So even though none of the books mentioned noodle avoiding, I decided it was a symptom, too.
The next morning, me and TJ ran over to Professor Reese’s.
She opened the door holding her crossword and wearing a red leotard and red footless tights, looking like an elf or maybe a fire hydrant. “Hi, Jordie. Hi, TJ.”
“How’s Spike?” TJ asked before I had a chance to even ask about Baxter.
“Spike seems fine,” Professor Reese said. “Right now, he’s enjoying a slice of banana from my morning cereal.”
So TJ ran down to the lab to see, and I hugged Baxter gently around the middle. Professor Reese turned to me. “You were right, Jordie. Baxter’s ear was bothering him all night.”
“Aw, you poor thing!” I petted him but not near his ears.
“I just made an appointment for the vet to see him at three fifteen,” she went on. “Can you walk Baxter to the vet’s after school, and I’ll meet you there?”
“Of course!” I kissed him right between his crazy eyebrows—a kiss to help him feel better. Then I yelled down the basement stairs for TJ, and we headed to school.
The whole way to school, I worried about Baxter. And my mood didn’t get any better when I realized it was already Wednesday, which meant our second week of Study Buddies was almost over. Tyler hadn’t gotten in trouble on Monday or Tuesday, but that was only because Mrs. Wilson had kept an eagle eye on Tyler’s group the whole time: every time Tyler or one of his kids looked up from the assignment, they’d shrink back like a mouse who didn’t want to get gulped.
And now we only had a few days left because at the Good-bye–Hello Ceremony next Monday, me and Tyler would say good-bye to the second graders, and then they’d say hello to the new Buddies.
Just a few days left, and Tyler was wasting his.
“This is so stupid, this is just baby stuff,” he moaned as we walked up our hallway. “Stupid baby drawings,” he said about the penguins (on icebergs) the second graders
