Dogs Don't Tell Jokes (Someday Angeline 2)

“La crème de la crème,” said Gus.

Gary laughed. “Then the last week, I’m going to just work on putting the jokes in some kind of order, and then practice them over and over again. People think that to be a comedian all you need are good jokes, but timing is just as important.”

“The important thing is, you’re willing to work at it,” said Abel. “It doesn’t really matter how much talent you have. You have to be willing to work at it. Nothing comes easy.”

“I’m working at it, all right,” Gary said. “My motto is: Whatever it takes, one hundred percent!”

Gary and Angeline were alone on her sofa. Gus and Abel had gone to get pizza.

“Did you ever wish you could be somebody else?” asked Gary.

“Like who?”

“Joe Reed,” said Gary. “Do you know who he is?”

“He was in Mr. Bone’s class,” said Angeline.

“He’s got the perfect life,” said Gary. “Everyone likes him. He’s smart, a great athlete, but he’s not stuck up or anything. He’s nice to everybody. Sometimes I wish I was him.”

“Maybe you are him,” Angeline said. “Maybe he’s you.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe just this second, when you said you wanted to be Joe Reed, you suddenly traded places. You’re now Joe Reed. He’s Gary Boone. But it doesn’t matter. I’m still here talking to Gary Boone. He became you. He has your body. Your brain. Your memory. He doesn’t remember ever being Joe Reed. He thinks he’s always been you. And you think you’ve always been him. So even though you just traded places, nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah,” said Gary. He saw her point. At least he thought he did. On second thought—he had no clue.

“No matter how many times you trade,” she said, “there’s always going to be a Gary Boone.”

She smiled at him, apparently glad there would always be a Gary Boone. She took off his hat, then placed her pink cowgirl hat on his head. She put Gary’s hat on her head.

“So I guess I should just try to be the best Gary Boone I can be,” he said. He shrugged. “I may be a goon, but I’ll be the best goon there is.”

“Whatever it takes, one hundred percent,” said Angeline.

12.

Gary woke up feeling funny. Not sick-funny. Funny-funny. Hilarious-funny! Supercalifragilisticexpialidociously-funny!

He felt like he could make up the funniest jokes of his life. The jokes were exploding inside him, ready to burst out, like Angeline’s balloon.

But first he had to get through school—six hours of mind-numbing, maggot-infested drivel.

There was a book report due in first period. This was the first time Gary had heard about it.

Fortunately, it was only supposed to be an oral report, so as long as Mrs. Carlisle didn’t call on him, he was safe.

Unfortunately, he was the first person called.

“I’m not ready,” he said. “I didn’t know about it.”

“You didn’t know about it?” Mrs. Carlisle asked incredulously. “Ashley. When did I assign the book report?”

“Three weeks ago,” said Ashley.

“Three weeks,” Mrs. Carlisle repeated. “Where have you been for the past three weeks, Gary?”

“I don’t know.”