The TV Kid Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Television wonderland.

  Lennie sat with his eyes closed, speeding up his dream.

  “And now, Lennie, we have a car waiting to bring you back to our studio to collect over three thousand dollars in cash and merchandise. How does that sound to you?”

  “Read good, sir.”

  “And, more important, you get another spin of the Vacation Wheel. ”

  “Oh, well, never mind about that, sir. I’ll just take my cash and—”

  “We’ll leave it up to the audience. How many want to see him spin the Vacation Wheel?”

  Wild applause.

  “Come on in, Lennie, and give it a spin!”

  BOOKS BY BETSY BYARS

  After the Goat Man

  An ALA Notable Book

  Bingo Brown and the Language of Love

  Bingo Brown, Gypsy Lover

  Bingo Brown’s Guide to Romance

  The Burning Questions of Bingo Brown

  An ALA Notable Book

  The Cartoonist

  The Computer Nut

  Cracker Jackson

  An ALA Notable Book

  The Cybil War

  An ALA Notable Book

  The Dark Stairs

  (A Herculeah Jones Mystery)

  Dead Letter

  (A Herculeah Jones Mystery)

  Death’s Door

  (A Herculeah Jones Mystery)

  The 18th Emergency

  The Glory Girl

  The House of Wings

  An ALA Notable Book

  The Midnight Fox

  McMummy

  The Summer of the Swans

  Winner of the Newbery Medal

  Tarot Says Beware

  (A Herculeah Jones Mystery)

  Trouble River

  An ALA Notable Book

  The TV Kid

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.SA

  Penguin Books Ltd, 27 Wrights Lane, London W8 5TZ, England

  Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Ringwood, Victoria, Australia

  Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2

  Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England

  First published in the United States of America by The Viking Press, 1976

  Published in Puffin Books, 1987

  Reissued without illustrations 1998

  Copyright © Betsy Byars, 1976

  All rights reserved

  The following material is copyrighted and has been used by permission:

  Page 3, Dr. Pepper Company. Page 64, © Burger King Corporation, 1974;

  The Greyhound Corporation (Armour hotdogs). Page 70, The Coca-Cola Corporation and Coca-Cola Ltd. Page 71, General Foods Corporation: Log Cabin is a trademark of General Foods Corporation; Quaker State Oil Refining Corporation; and Wm. Wrigley Jr. Company, Copyright © 1959 Wm. Wrigley Jr. Company.

  THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE PREVIOUS PUFFIN BOOKS EDITION

  UNDER CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 86-40359

  CIP data is available

  eISBN : 978-1-101-14252-3

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Chapter One

  Lennie was in front of the motel washing off the walk with a hose. He directed the spray on a chewing-gum paper and some grass and twigs. He watched as the trash went down the drain.

  A truck passed on the highway, building up speed for the hill ahead. Lennie glanced up. He watched until the truck was out of sight.

  “Aren’t you through yet?” Lennie’s mother called. “You’ve got to do your homework, remember?”

  He turned off the hose. “I’m through.”

  He started toward the office. At that moment his mom turned on the neon sign, and it flashed red above his head. THE FAIRY LAND MOTEL—VACANCY.

  Lennie paused at the concrete wishing well. There was a concrete elf on one side and, facing him, Humpty Dumpty. With one hand on Humpty Dumpty’s head, Lennie leaned forward and looked down into the wishing well. On the blue painted bottom lay seven pennies, one nickel, and a crumpled Mounds wrapper.

  Lennie walked on to the office. As he went inside, he paused in front of the TV.

  A game show was on, and there were five new cars lined up on a revolving stage. The winning contestant got to pick one of the cars, and if it started, he got to keep it. Only one of the cars was wired to start.

  “It’s the Grand Am,” Lennie said instantly. He felt he had a special instinct for picking the right box or door or car on shows like this. “I know it’s the Grand Am.”

  “Lennie, are you watching television?” his mother called from the utility room.

  “I’m looking for a pencil,” he called back.

  “Well, there are plenty of pencils on the desk.”

  “Where? Oh, yeah, I see one now.”

  Lennie was hoping to stall until he could see if it really was the Grand Am as he suspected.

  The contestant said he wanted to try for the Catalina. “No, the Grand Am, the Grand Am!” Lennie murmured beneath his breath. He found the stub of a pencil on the desk and held it against his chest like a charm.

  “Lennie, I meant what I said about no television,” his mom called.

  “I know you did.”

  “No television at all until those grades pick up.”

  “I know.”

  A commercial came on. “Doc-tor Pep-per, so mis-un-der-stoooooood.”

  “Me and Doctor Pepper,” Lennie mumbled. He knew he had sixty more seconds to stall now. “Where did you say those pencils were?” he called.

  “On the desk.”

  The commercial ended, and the contestant was walking across the stage to the Catalina. He was getting into the car, fastening his seat belt. At the crucial moment Lennie’s mother appeared in the doorway.

  “The pencils are—” She broke off as she saw him. She said sternly, “Lennie, go in my room right now and start studying.”

  “I will, just let me find out if it’s the—”

  “Now!”

  In one incredibly swift move—it was like something out of an old-time movie—Lennie’s mother stepped in front of him. She turned off the television. As the picture faded to one small dot, she and Lennie looked at each other.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Lennie said. He was hurt. He felt as if his mother had slapped him. “Now I’ll never know if it was the Grand Am.”

  “You’ve got to do your homework.”

  “Well, will you watch for me?”

  “If you go right now.”

  “I’m going. I’m going.” He started from the office. “Only turn the set back on or it won’t warm up in time. You’ll miss it.”

  Once outside the room Lennie stood in the hall and waited. “I wish I was on TV,” he said to himself. “I wish I was getting in the Grand Am.”

  His mother came through the doorway. She took hi
s shoulder and started him into her room. “It was the Firebird,” she said.

  “Oh.” He was strangely disheartened. “Then I wish I was getting in the Firebird.”

  “Well, you won’t be getting in anything till those grades pick up,” his mom said.

  “If you’re thinking I’m too dumb to be on TV—well, half the people you see on those shows are dropouts. Most of the contestants are out of work.”

  “Len, will you please go in my room and start studying,” his mom said tiredly. “I simply cannot argue with you this way every night.”

  “I’m going.”

  As he went, he thought of himself getting in the Firebird, fastening the seat belt, turning the key. He thought of his face lighting up as the engine started.

  However, he thought, walking slower, if he could go on just one game show, it had better be something like Let’s Make a Deal, where knowledge didn’t count. He would dress up like a pizza, and if he got in the Big Deal of the Day, he would go for Curtain Number 2.

  “Don’t stall, Lennie.”

  “I’m not stalling.” He walked into his mother’s room. His mom had set up a card table in the corner, and Lennie had to study there these days. It was the only place in the motel where there was nothing to do and nothing to look at. He couldn’t even see out the window without getting up and walking around the bed.

  His mother was still standing in the doorway. Lennie glanced at her. He said, “If you’re thinking that I’m too ugly to be on television—well, you don’t have to worry about that either. The uglier you are these days, the better. Ugliness is in.”

  “Start with Science.”

  “Mom, have you ever had a look at that kid on all those meat-spread commercials? I know I look as good as him, and they say he makes thousands of dollars.”

  “Lennie.”

  “He gets three hundred and twenty dollars for every one of those commercials. Think of it. The kid is sitting at home, probably watching himself on TV, and he’s making three hundred and twenty dollars.”

  “Lennie—”

  “And if you get on a soap opera, Mom, if you just walk in front of the camera, which anybody could do, for that you get fifty-one dollars. If you have five lines, you get ninety.”

  “Lennie, stop this and get to your work.”

  “’Course, five dollars goes to your agent and twenty goes into a trust fund for when you get too old to perform. I read that in TV Guide.”

  “Lennie!”

  “All right!”

  They stared at each other for a moment. Then with a sigh Lennie flipped open his Science book. He turned to the chapter on plants. There was a pencil hole in the page where in anger he had stabbed the book.

  With his mother watching, he stared down at the cross section of a plant. To give the illusion that he was serious about studying, he put his finger on the first part of the leaf. Slowly he moved his finger down the page, around the pencil hole.

  His mom watched a moment more, and then she turned and went back into the office.

  Lennie kept his eyes on the page. As he got to the picture of the stem, his eyes began to close. His mind drifted to more pleasant things. He saw his own face on TV, a close-up.

  He would make the perfect contestant, he thought. In the first place, he was eager and enthusiastic. In the second place, he was a little dumb, so the audience would be glad when he won. And third, he was such a good sport he would go along with anything.

  As the parts of the plant grew dimmer in his mind, his own face on TV grew sharper and clearer. The announcer’s voice, hushed with urgency, replaced the sound of the trucks on the highway.

  He dreamed.

  Chapter Two

  “And now, Lennie, you have won over three thousand dollars in cash and merchandise, and, more important, you have won the chance to spin our Vacation Wheel. How do you feel about that, Lennie?”

  “Real good, sir.”

  “Then join me over here at the Vacation Wheel. Now, Lennie, I don’t have to remind you that up there on the wheel are twenty all-expense paid vacations to places all over the world, do I?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You can go to Rome, to London, to Paris. You can go to beautiful Hawaii, exotic Mexico, or sunny Spain. All in all, there are twenty wonderful all-expense paid vacations up there on the wheel. But, Lennie, as you know, there are also what we call our zonk trips. How do you feel about those, Lennie?

  “Well, I hope I don’t get one.”

  “And that’s what we’re hoping too, aren’t we, folks? Hear that applause, Lennie? They’re all with you. Now the three zonk trips, as we call them, are here, here, and here. Try not to land on them.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “All right, put up your hand now, Lennie, right here on the Vacation Wheel, and, Lennie, give it a spin!”

  “Here goes!”

  “Good boy! Lennie really gave it a good spin, didn’t he, folks? Where do you want to go, Lennie?”

  “Any of those places is all right with me.”

  “Except the zonk places, right?”

  “Right.”

  “It’s still spinning, and now it’s beginning to slow down. Watch the wheel, folks. Where is Lennie going? To Paris? Rome? London? It’s almost stopped. It looks like Egypt! No! Rio! No! Oh, no! Look at that! Lennie, you have landed on Number Thirteen. One of our zonk trips, and I don’t have to tell you what that means.”

  “It means I’m going to have to take a zonk trip.”

  “Right.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, let me look in my zonk envelope. Oh, Lennie.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, Lennie.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “Oh, Lennie!”

  “What? I want to know. What is it?”

  “Lennie, you are going to have to spend one full night—are you ready for this?—in a haunted house!”

  “A what?”

  “Yes, Lennie, you heard correctly, you are going to Haunted House Number Thirteen, located right on the outskirts—that’s the dark, scary outskirts, I might add—of beautiful downtown—”

  “But I don’t want to spend the night in any haunted house.”

  “Of course you don’t, but you take your chances, Lennie, just like all the other contestants. Remember that paper you signed when you came on the show?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t—I mean I couldn’t—I mean—”

  “Oh, all right, Lennie, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. You go to the haunted house, spend one night there, and if you survive—I say, if you survive—then you come back next week and we’ll let you spin the Vacation Wheel again. How about that?”

  “But, sir, couldn’t I just take my three thousand in cash and merchandise and—”

  “How many want to see him take the cash and merchandise and go home?”

  Silence.

  “How many want to see him go to the haunted house?”

  Wild applause.

  “But, sir—”

  “See, the audience is with you. Hear that applause? Well, it’s time for a commercial break now, but stay with us, folks, for the second half of Give It a Spin, the show where you pick your prizes and we see that you take them....”

  Chapter Three

  “Lennie?”

  His eyes snapped open as quickly as a puppet’s. He said, “Yes’m.”

  “Have you finished your Science?” His mother was standing in the doorway, her hands in her jeans pockets.

  “Practically.”

  “You know all the parts of the leaf?”

  “I think so.”

  “And the stem?”

  “I think so. I get mixed up on some of them.”

  “Which ones?”

  “These.” He made a circular motion that took in the entire page.

  “Well, as soon as you’re sure of them, Lennie, you bring your book in the office and let me call out the questions.” She sighed. “I wish that man was still in t
hree-fourteen—the one from Decatur, remember? Now, that was a smart man. He could have helped you with your Science.”

  Lennie didn’t answer.

  “And that man was a slow starter just like you, Lennie. He told me he didn’t learn a thing until he was eleven years old. He said people thought there was something wrong with him.”

  Lennie didn’t answer.

  His mom paused. Then she said, “I don’t want you getting another bad grade on your test tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to get one either,” he said.

  His last Science grade had been 23 out of a possible 100. Staring down at that 23—it had been written in red pencil and circled—Lennie had for the first time felt the real meaning of numbers. His arithmetic teachers had been trying to get that across for years—numbers mean something. Well, the arithmetic teachers were right, he had thought. A number, just a number, could ruin a person’s whole day, week maybe.

  Lennie had not started feeling like himself again until he was home watching a rerun of The Lucy Show, in which Lucy thought Mr. Mooney had turned into a monkey. When Lucy came back from lunch, saw the monkey sitting at Mr. Mooney’s desk, and staggered back with her mouth open—that was when Lennie had smiled for the first time since Science.

  As Lennie’s mother went to the office, Lennie rested his chin on his hand and stared at the pictures. The leaf, like something in a dream, moved farther away. Slowly Lennie closed his eyes. His mind, like an unmoored ship, drifted to other shores.

  The interruption by his mother was like a station break.... “And now,” the announcer said in Lennie’s mind, “back to Give It a Spin.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Dink McLeod again. Now that our young contestant is gone, I want to let you in on a little surprise we have planned for him.

  “See, our staff has concealed in that haunted house—the haunted house where Lennie will be spending the night—thirteen of the scariest, most terrifying movie and television monsters of all time. We have Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster. They’re in the living room. The werewolf is in the kitchen. The mummy is in the sewing room, and out in the back yard, folks, will be Godzilla, Mothra, Scorpo, and a Giant Behemoth! How about that for a scary quartet?”