Made You Look Read online

  For more than forty years,

  Yearling has been the leading name

  in classic and award-winning literature

  for young readers.

  Yearling books feature children's

  favorite authors and characters,

  providing dynamic stories of adventure,

  humor, history, mystery, and fantasy.

  Trust Yearling paperbacks to entertain,

  inspire, and promote the love of reading

  in all children.

  OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY

  MACARONI BOY, Katherine Ayres

  SONG OF SAMPO LAKE, William Durbin

  SPRING-HEELED JACK, Philip Pullman

  TROUT AND ME, Susan Shreve

  THE LAST DOG ON EARTH, Daniel Ehrenhaft

  ALIDA'S SONG, Gary Paulsen

  JACKSON JONES AND THE PUDDLE OF THORNS Mary Quattlebaum

  REMOTE MAN, Elizabeth Honey

  MATCHIT, Martha Moore

  THE HERO, Ron Woods

  With so much love and thanks to my husband, Jim, my sons, David and Gregory, and my daughter, Diane Elizabeth, who traveled with me in a real Camp'otel, creating a lifetime of memories!

  To my six grandsons: Freese, John David, James, Christopher, Carter, and Collin, in hopes that they land on a game show someday!

  To my editor, Wendy Loggia, who upon our first meeting said, “Send me a story”—and I did.

  And to my mother, Jessie Lucille Hoskins, my sister, Carole Findlay, and Golly Popo, for their total belief in me from the beginning.

  Special thanks to …

  the Ridglea Branch of the Fort Worth Public Library and librarians Wynette Schwalm, Ellen Warthoe, and Nell Noonan, who said, “Yes you can.”

  David Davis, Chris Ford, Tom McDermott, Debra Deur, Janet Fick, Kathryn Lay, Jan Peck, Melissa Russell, B.J. Stone, Deborah Sizemore, Sue Ward, and Cerelle Woods for the listening process every Tuesday (and especially A. M. Jenkins).

  So many cyberfriends, especially Connie Mulloy and Linda Powley.

  Kenny Holcomb for designing this book.

  (And the Pope, of course, LOL).

  Mom always says the difference between a trip and a vacation is the quantity of dirty laundry after it's over. A visit to Aunt Kate's house would be considered a trip—never lasts more than two days, only one change of underwear, two max. However, traveling from Texas to California? Definitely a vacation.

  Dad had been in Los Angeles all spring. But he wasn't on vacation. His aircraft company sent him out there. One of the reasons Dad was asked to go was because he's a brilliant engineer. And he's a great problem solver, too. At least that's what he tells us. His boss wanted him to work out some wrinkles in the L.A. office. It wasn't that he hadn't missed us, but he'd said a million times how much he liked it on the West Coast.

  I was busy researching a school project on my computer when Directions Man popped up on my Buddy List.

  “Hey, Dad!” I Instant Messaged him. Engineers love reading directions, so it's the perfect name for him. “How's it going?”

  “Miss you guys,” he IM'd back.

  “Same here.”

  “The Pacific Ocean is awesome, Jason, and the weather is fantastic.”

  “I want to see for myself,” I wrote him. Were there palm trees and movie stars on every corner? Did everyone drive a convertible? I could almost taste the salty ocean air.

  “You'd love it, Mania Man,” came his answer, flying across my monitor. Everyone knows my screen name. I chose it after the greatest game show of all time, Masquerade Mania.

  It's the best. All the contestants are kids. Almost everyone in our sixth-grade class watches, especially Freddy and me. Even my parents and my pain-in-the-neck older sister, Jen, like it. It's hilarious.

  The master of ceremonies is this beautiful longhaired girl named Jasmine. Dad says she gives the show class. At the beginning of the show, she glides down a winding staircase like melting butter. She's awesome. Her cohost is Desmond O. Now, that guy is cool. He wears this wild suit. The stripes on his pants go up and down and the circles on his jacket go across. He has a bow tie that lights up when he talks. I'm sure he's the creative genius behind the show.

  Desmond O teases the contestants in the Hot Box. He wants to confuse them so that they'll give wrong answers to Jasmine's trivia questions. Jasmine asks a question and the first kid to press his buzzer gets to answer. The questions are tough. It takes a real brain-o to think fast enough to get them right. After a contestant answers three questions correctly he gets a chance to Spin to Win. His spin could land him on a prize. It's unbelievable what they give away—portable MP3 players with headphones, DVD home theater systems, video games, skateboards, televisions, great vacations, sometimes even college scholarships. Once I saw this kid win an Xbox and a year's supply of video games and he passed out cold. I bet he was mortified when he came to. But my favorite part is when a contestant lands on a WHOOPS! That's when the real fun begins.

  If you land on a WHOOPS! Desmond O makes you do crazy stunts. Like jumping into a tub of Jell-O, or doing a funny dance while Desmond O plays his kazoo. Sometimes he forces a contestant to run an obstacle course against a ticking clock. That's the most nerve-wracking part of all. You never know what to expect if the clock wins. Buckets of slimy spaghetti could drop from the ceiling! You could be pelted with water balloons. Three WHOOPS! and zap! You're out of the game. You have to be careful or you could go home empty-handed and covered in chocolate syrup.

  “Did you catch last night's show?” I typed. I didn't have to explain. Dad would know exactly what I meant.

  “ 'Fraid not,” he typed back. “I was still at the office.”

  “It was really cool,” I told him, wishing he were here to watch it with me like he used to. “A kid dressed up as a tube of toothpaste won a trip for four to New York City!” His costume was flipped out. He'd even carried a plastic bag filled with dental floss.

  As I sat at my computer, I got this fantastic idea. I'm always getting fantastic ideas.

  “Since you're so great at working out wrinkles,” I IM'd Dad, “why don't you work out a way for us to fly to Los Angeles, too?” I was dying to fly on a plane. And not only that, maybe I'd have a chance to get on Masquerade Mania! If that happened, I'd be a real Maniac for sure.

  “Sounds good,” he IM'd back.

  “Ejsy?” I typed so fast I didn't realize my fingers were on the wrong keys.

  “What?”

  I retyped almost as fast. “When?”

  “Soon.”

  Next thing I knew, Dad was on the phone with Mom, Mom was on the Internet checking out hotel rates, I was jumping around the kitchen, and our family was California bound! Well, not exactly the whole family. My bulldog, Patches, would be checking in to the doggie motel. And Baby Millicent would probably stay at Aunt Kate's house because Mom always says he who travels swiftest does not carry a diaper bag. Millicent is two years old. Her track record in the potty-training department leaves a lot to be desired. But sometimes Mom gets guilt pangs when she thinks one of us is not getting a fair shake. So Millicent might luck out and land on the plane with Jen and me. If that happens, I'm letting Jen take care of her. What else is a big sister good for, anyway?

  Freddy would freak when he found out about my good luck. He was at a family reunion this weekend or I would have called him the second I got the news. The Wades moved across the street from us the day we started first grade and we've been best friends ever since. Dad says Freddy is like an entrepreneur. Someone who can organize and manage anything.

  When Freddy and I were in fourth grade we wanted new bikes. I got one of my fantastic ideas: a neighborhood newspaper. Freddy agreed it was the perfect answer to our money problems. “We'll print
all the neighborhood gossip and make a bunch of money,” he'd said, his brown eyes gleaming.

  We made a couple of neighbors mad, especially Ms. Snodgrass. When the newspaper came off our printer, somehow Snodgrass had turned into Snotgrass. And to make matters worse, we ran a small picture of her mowing her lawn in her bikini. Right beside the article was an advertisement for joining the local YMCA to lose “those extra pounds.” She was not amused. But the newspaper worked. We earned enough money for BMX bikes! A year later we sold the paper to a couple of kids down the street for a profit. Selling the paper was Freddy's idea. Freddy and I make a great team.

  I ran across the street to his house Sunday night when I saw his parents' car in the driveway. My brain had jumped into high gear and I knew he'd help me come up with a plan. A plan for California-bound Jason P. Percy to become a contestant on Masquerade Mania!

  A zillion ideas spun in my head as I knocked on Freddy's front door.

  “Jase,” he said, giving me a low five. He was wearing an

  I'M PROUD TO BE A WADE KID T-shirt. “Haven't had time to change yet,” he said with a grimace. “Follow me. My grandma sent us home with her amazing chocolate chip cookies.”

  I followed him in. “But before we eat I've got some news.”

  Freddy knew how much his grandma's cookies meant to me, so that shocked him enough. But when I announced my news to him, his mouth flew open wider than a train tunnel. His face turned the color of an avocado. He stood motionless, like he was nailed to the floor. Then, after a couple of minutes, he spoke.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow?” I repeated, poking him in the chest. “Is that all you can say? I'm talking game show here. Fantastic prizes. Maybe an Xbox, movie passes for the rest of my life, a trip to Hawaii …”

  Freddy's mouth broke into a grin big enough to swallow a banana sideways.

  “Cool.” He gave me a low five and a high five, a gesture reserved for only the ultimate occasions.

  We both knew that the people who got picked to be on the show dressed up in goofy costumes. That was a must. Goofy costumes attracted the most attention. People did anything to get noticed. Some kids even stood on their heads and sang songs. If Jasmine or Desmond O liked what they saw, they'd put that kid in the Hot Box. Freddy and I had watched every show since it was first aired. We knew the rules.

  “We've got major work to do,” I said as we sat down at his kitchen table. “Besides reviewing every trivia question in the world, we've got to think of a fantastic costume. Something that will really catch the producer's eye.” I grabbed a handful of his grandma's fabulous cookies. It was easier to think on a full stomach.

  “No sweat,” Freddy said, twirling the lazy Susan. “You always win first place for Most Original at the Halloween carnival. Costumes are your specialty. Remember?” He laughed. “Anyone who has the nerve to wear their sister's tutu and dye their hair bubble-gum pink is a shoo-in for a game show contestant. You were the perfect colorcoordinated ballerina.”

  I shuddered, remembering. “Jen didn't speak to me for three months after that,” I said. Jen is sixteen going on ten. “When she did talk, she'd call me Mr. Pinkie. She still does when she's mad at me. Which is most of the time,” I added.

  “I wish I could do something that would make my sister quit talking to me. But so far nothing's worked,” Freddy said. Carey Anne was younger than us. Sometimes she tagged along when we went places, but mostly she liked to read and ride her bike with her friends. She wasn't half as bad as Jen.

  We sat there for a few moments, thinking. “Everyone in our class thought you were cool,” Freddie said. “You won us a pizza party, didn't you?”

  “I'm not dyeing my hair pink again, if that's what you're getting at,” I told him, giving my blond head a reassuring pat. “Dad would kill me.”

  Freddy and I agreed that I'd need to study trivia like crazy until the day I left for the airport.

  There was only one more thing I needed. “You should have a manager,” said Freddy, leaning forward on his elbows. “And I'm just the guy for the job.”

  “Patches! Patches, my man. Over here!” I glanced out my window Wednesday morning. As usual, there was Freddy throwing a ball to Patches and Bruno. As usual, Patches looked completely confused. I sighed. What kind of dog gets confused by a ball?

  Bruno is Freddy's basset hound. He's low to the ground and droopy-looking, but it was a trick. That dog and his short legs could qualify for the Boston Marathon if they'd let him run it. I watched as Patches tripped on Bruno's ears. “I have got to work with that dog more,” I muttered, grabbing my backpack and jogging downstairs.

  My sack lunch sat on the kitchen counter next to a bottle of Li'l Dino Chewables. I glared at the bottle. This had to stop. I was pretty sure that middle school kids did not associate themselves with products that started with “li'l”.

  “Don't forget your vitamins,” Mom called from the front porch. I knew she was having her morning coffee and reading the newspaper. Time out, she called it. But she didn't fool me for a second. The real reason she was outside on the porch was to make sure I didn't wipe out on my bike.

  “Yeah, Jason,” said Jen from behind the refrigerator door, where she was probably drinking from the milk carton. “You don't want to stay li'l!” she added, with what sounded like a smothered laugh.

  “Whatever,” I said, ignoring the vitamins. I stuffed my lunch in my backpack and headed out the door.

  Freddy and I had ridden our bikes to school for as long as I could remember. Mrs. Wade didn't seem to worry about Freddy riding to school as much as my mom worried about me. I could feel Mom's eyes on my back as I headed out the driveway. If she could have joined the police force just to direct traffic on school days, she would have gone through the police academy. When I finally got to the fourth grade, she quit following me in the car. Once this kid asked me if she was my bodyguard. It was embarrassing.

  “Willie Mays,” Freddy said when I pulled my bike up beside him.

  “Huh?” “Willie Mays,” he said again.

  I looked at him blankly, just like Patches had a few minutes before.

  Freddy rapped his knuckles on my forehead. “Jason, if you want to get on the show you've gotta spend every waking moment thinking trivia questions.” He raised his voice. “Willie Mays.”

  “Fantastic baseball player,” I said, snapping to attention. “Played for the New York Giants.”

  “And?” he said, giving the ball one last toss to our dogs.

  “And,” I said, “he played center field. The team moved to San Francisco the same year the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles.”

  “Okay,” he said as we started pedaling. “Three Stooges. Names?”

  For a moment I was stumped. I couldn't believe it. We both loved old movies. We even had a collection of them between us. We rounded Clover Lane and coasted into the school's parking lot, where Janet, the crossing guard with badly permed brown hair, gave us her standard salute. “Curly!” I shouted. “And Moe and Larry,” I added hastily.

  We liked getting to school early because it gave us a chance to play basketball before class. But today we had planned a trivia cram session. We parked our bikes and headed for the picnic area. I slid down the cement bench at the table and put my backpack on it. Freddy was not far behind.

  “Watch it,” I said, rubbing my hands across the bench. “Someone spilled something sticky here.” He moved to the other side. “We have twenty minutes before class.” I opened my notebook. “What should we do first?”

  “Details,” Freddy said firmly. “We need a list of important details about Masquerade Mania, and trivia questions. And we need to remember things the contestants do to attract attention. What kind of costumes stand out the most on TV? Pirates? Big hats? Guys dressed as knights? Witches? Wizards? Clowns? Alien robots? Men in black? There are a million things you could wear. We've seen a lot of weird-looking people.” Freddy's eyes grew wide. “You've got to outdo them, Jase. Wear something that's never been
seen before.”

  “Like what?” “Like I don't know yet. You'll have to research it.” We started a list.

  The costume is crucial

  Speak loud

  Cool props

  Knowing lots of trivia!!!

  Persistence

  “And don't forget confidence,” Freddy added. “That's the most important thing of all. If you act confident, you will be.”

  He sounded just like our teacher, Ms. Ware. She had lots of confidence. Especially when it came to hairstyles. Sometimes she wore her hair piled into a mountain on her head. She used chopsticks to hold it up. Dad had once told me that Ms. Ware kept honeybees in her hair, and when her students were bad, she'd let them loose in class. I knew he was only joking but I never got too close. Once, one of the chopsticks fell out on the floor and I started hiccuping immediately. I have big problems with hiccups when I'm nervous.

  We had seen people on the show beat drums, blow horns, and hold up signs with crazy messages on them. “You need to be outrageous,” Freddy said, waving his arms wildly.

  I wrote down Outrageous and underlined it three times. He was right. I had to wear something that would catch Jasmine's and Desmond O's eyes the second they came into the TV studio—something loud and colorful that would give Mom a headache. Something shiny. Something that made noise when I walked.

  Jasmine and Desmond O whizzed up and down the aisles faster than race cars. You had to keep your eye on them or you'd lose track of what was happening. Sometimes Desmond O would shoot a water gun filled with lemonade at a contestant, or throw a cream pie in their face. If they were lucky he'd choose them to sit in the Hot Box. Then they'd get a chance to answer Jasmine's questions. But you had to really watch Des after you landed in the Hot Box because he'd do anything to distract a contestant from answering a question right. If you were sidetracked and missed an answer, a neon sign on his hat would blink MADE YOU LOOK. MADE YOU LOOK. MADE YOU LOOK. Then the audience would crack up laughing because they knew you'd been had. It was great!