Lizard Music by Daniel Pinkwater Read Free Book Online Page A

I wasn’t sure why it was, at first. It seemed like the usual dumb stuff they have on television. There was something special about it, something that had been there all along, only I hadn’t ever noticed it. The daughter of the famous somebody was holding up the cookbook. Everybody was clapping. I was noticing something weird. It was very strong, the thing I was noticing, but I couldn’t quite think what it was, how to describe it. These people on the talk show—there was something the same about them, something special that I didn’t like. What was it? I was very excited. Stuff from the zoo was flashing through my mind. I thought about the lesser kudu. I could see her beautiful brown eyes. I wanted to cry, I loved her so much. On the talk show they were wheeling out a watermelon cut in half and filled with shredded carrots, and there were little American flags on it. Pod people! The movie! It was a true movie! There were real pod people. I smelled the tiger. I heard the lizard band. Tears were rolling off my chin. We had been invaded by the pod people. It wasn’t all clear yet. I didn’t know what this had to do with the Chicken Man—or with me. But I just knew that somehow the whole thing was connected. I couldn’t hear the sound of the TV screen anymore. My ears were filled with lizard music. The credits on the talk show were coming down, and the people who had been on the show were pretending to shake hands.

Chapter 9
    I wondered why I was sobbing. I didn’t feel sad, and the sobbing seemed to be going on by itself—in another room, or somewhere away from me. I was trying to pull myself together, but I was together. I had a feeling that this was all leading somewhere, and I was happy about it. But this was serious. Pod people were no joke. I felt myself calming down. I wondered why I wasn’t worried. Nothing like this had ever happened to me, and you don’t discover that you’ve been invaded by the pod people every day. I was feeling very certain about all sorts of things that I didn’t really understand. One thing I was certain about—not everybody was pod people. There were pod people—and what? Lizards! The lizards were not podish at all. The Chicken Man was unpod. Shane Fergussen was no pod. I wasn’t. Mom and Dad weren’t. Leslie definitely was. I couldn’t make up my mind about Walter. I hoped he wasn’t.
    I spent a long time thinking about people I knew—pod or not pod. Most of them were. The late movie was the one about the guy in the marines who is a coward all through boot camp, and then he has a talk with the old sergeant, who turns out to be his father or something, and he’s a hero in the war. Just as well—I couldn’t have enjoyed anything good. I was waiting up for the lizards and my phone call to the Chicken Man.
    The lizards came on right after the late movie. The music was great. I flipped the knob, and sure enough, they were on every channel, just as I thought. It was hard to tear myself away from the set and dial the number. When the receiver picked up on the other end, I could hear lizard music coming through the phone. It sounded good. For some reason I thought of hot soup.
    “Fergussen’s Confectionery,” I heard.
    “Mr. Fergussen, this is Victor,” I said. “Is the Chicken Man there?”
    “Never heard of him,” Shane Fergussen said. “Hold the line.” I held.
    Then a voice, “Milo Schtunk, here. To whom am I addressed?”
    “This is Victor,” I said. “Is this the Chicken Man?”
    “How should I know?” the voice said. “You just said it was Victor.”
    “I mean, am
I
talking
to
the Chicken Man?” I shouted.
    “You are talking to Pieter Breughel the Elder, known to some as the C.M.,” the voice said.
    “I’m Victor, the kid you’ve been following around,” I said.
    “My man! Victor, how are you?”
    “Mixed up, sort of,” I said. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. I want to make an appointment.”
    “Fine. Come to my office