But when I step inside the kitchen, both my parents are waiting for me. Dad looks as mad as I’ve ever seen him; Mom looks incredibly disappointed.
On the kitchen table is Mom’s laptop.
It’s open to Monkey Love Hot Sauce.
“I knew there was something fishy about your action figure mash-up channel,” Mom finally begins. “I just couldn’t comprehend why you were doing it and now I know why.”
“Was that some kind of decoy so we wouldn’t find your REAL videos?” Dad asks. “The ones you made with Frank that we told you over and over NOT to create?”
“You better start talking, and I mean NOW,” Mom says.
“No one liked the videos I made of me,” I finally stammer. “We live with a monkey! I had to use Frank!”
Dad tilts his head. “Even after we told you repeatedly not to?”
“There is not enough punishment to go around for this one,” Mom says. “Not only did you betray our trust, you put Frank in dangerous situations.”
“It wasn’t hot sauce,” I cry. “It was ketchup!”
“Frank is on a restricted diet! Do you know how much sugar is in a spoonful of ketchup?” Mom asks. “More sugar than a chocolate chip cookie! Frank could have diabetes now.” Mom takes a deep breath, winding up for more.
Dad takes a seat on one of the kitchen stools. “I took you to Doug’s, he let you borrow props, we signed off on every one of your decoy videos. We’ve been very supportive from day one. But you were deceitful with us, and it’s hugely disappointing.”
“I didn’t want to lie,” I answer. “But I HAD to. The competition is STEEP. Frank may be a few pounds heavier, but he’s FINE. I’ll take any punishment you want to give me for lying—and I’m really sorry you feel betrayed—but, everything’s okay! Frank didn’t get hurt!”
It’s a solid pitch, even if my voice did sound like I was a little desperate toward the end.
“Derek, how do you think we found out about these videos?” Mom asks.
It’s something I’ve been wondering since I walked in the door.
Mom answers her own question. “Mary Granville told me.”
“Is she one of the techs in your office?”
Mom turns to Dad with an expression of disbelief before turning back to me. “Mary runs the foundation where we got Frank.”
“Oh, the lady who said we could keep him—I remember.”
“Yes, the lady who said we could keep him when she thought we were taking good care of him. Now she’s the lady who thinks we’re endangering him so she’s hopping on a plane to take Frank back. She’ll be here first thing Monday morning.”
WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
A HIGH PRICE TO PAY
The videos on my Monkey Love Hot Sauce channel have now reached 15,750 views. I have over 2,000 new subscribers. What my subscribers don’t know is that they’ve subscribed to a channel that is now defunct.
My parents make me take everything off YouTube, even the decoy action-figure channel I’d set up just for them. They make me send an email to Mary at the capuchin foundation to apologize. Her response is immediate—she will still be here Monday morning.
Everyone in the entire school is excited about Umberto and Carly talking about their YouTube channels on Ellen, but it’s difficult to get caught up in all the excitement when I only have a few days left with Frank.
Matt takes the news hard—he loves Frank almost as much as I do. I make the decision not to tell Carly and Umberto until after the Ellen taping so they’re not upset during the show. Matt think’s that’s a mature thing to do, but mature is the last thing I’m feeling right now.
Mom and Dad go back and forth with the appropriate punishment. Take away my phone? My laptop? Ground me? Take away my skateboard? To me it doesn’t matter what they choose because all those things are nothing compared to losing Frank. (Yes, even phone privileges.)
When I get home from school the next day, I immediately take Frank out of his crate and hold him. Bodi won’t leave our side, as if he knows something’s about to happen, the way animals can sense a change in the weather. I pull them both toward me until I’m sandwiched between them on the couch.
I know I’ll have to explain everything to Mr. Ennis, but right now the furthest thing from my mind is making videos. But who am I kidding? The videos weren’t at fault—I was.
I guess Mr. Ennis was right when he talked about the pressure of creating the latest and greatest videos, having to top yourself each and every time out of the gate. Without realizing it, I got caught up in views and subscribers and beating the other kids in class. Maybe if I’d done something simple like Carly or helpful like Umberto or downright absurd like Tyler, I wouldn’t be losing one of my best friends.
Dad comes in and plops down beside me. He holds out his arm for Frank, who climbs up it to sit on Dad’s shoulders. “You’re not the only one who’s going to miss Frank,” Dad says. “We ALL love this guy. It’s going to be strange not having him around the house anymore.”
I’d been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I hadn’t thought about how this would affect my parents. Or Bodi.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I say for the zillionth time.
“I know you are.” He leans across the table, grabs his sketchbook, and starts drawing. Frank inside the window of an airplane. Frank reuniting with his capuchin friends back in Boston.
“Does drawing Frank help make the pain go away?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Dad answers. “I always think art helps, don’t you?”
A slow smile spreads across my face.
Dad just gave me the BEST IDEA EVER.
I reach up and
