Never Walk in Shoes That Talk Read Free Page B

asked.
    “Follow me,” I said.
    I led Gus to the garage and opened my Junior Handyman toolbox.
    “Hammer, anyone?” I asked.

    Gus chose a blue plastic hammer.
    I chose a nice yellow pair of pliers.
    “Race you,” I said.
    Gus hammered his right Ruff and Tuff as hard as he could.
    I squeezed and poked his left Ruff and Tuff as hard as I could.
    “Boys?” my mom called from the driveway. “What are you up to in there?”
    “We’re just making something, Mom,” I yelled back.
    “Unmaking something is more like it,” Gus whispered.
    “Well, don’t make a mess,” Mom called.
    After five more minutes of hammering and pliering, we checked our work.
    Gus shook his head. “These are like Godzilla shoes. They’re indestructible.”
    “Nothing’s indestructible, Gus,” I said. “Take it from Mr. Destructo-feet.”
    “What else can we do to them?” Gus asked.
    “Scissors?” I suggested.
    “Too obvious,” Gus said.
    “Garbage disposal?”
    “Too dangerous,” Gus said.
    “Toilet flushing?” I said.
    Gus made a face. “Too risky.”
    I threw one of the Ruff and Tuffs at the garage wall.
    It bounced right back to me.
    Good as new.
    “Face it, Roscoe,” Gus said. “The shoes beat us, fair and square.”

11
Baby Braking
    Before Gus went home, I asked him to let me keep the Ruff and Tuffs for one more day.
    I just wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.
    It’s hard to accept defeat.
    Especially when you get beaten by a sneaker.
    I sat near the garage, holding Gus’ssneakers in my hands. Wondering where I’d gone wrong.
    Hazel was riding her pink bike up and down the driveway.
    She was singing “How Much Is that Froggie in the Window?”
    I watched her come and go.
    It’s a long driveway, with a little bit of a hill.
    Hazel had to brake pretty hard when she got to the bottom.
    Her tires left a black mark on the cement.
    Aha, I thought.
    I ran to get my bike out of the garage.
    “I have only just begun to fight,” I said.
    I laced up Gus’s Ruff and Tuffs and climbed onto my bike.
    I sped down the driveway at top speed.

    “Slow down, Roscoe!” Hazel called.
    I slowed down, all right.
    But I didn’t use my pedals to brake.
    I used my Destructo-feet!
    I dragged those Ruff and Tuffs along the cement and stopped just in the nick of time.
    “Roscoe,” Hazel said. “That’s how babies stop their bikes.”
    But I didn’t care.
    When I got back to the top of the hill, I checked my handiwork.
    “Yes!!!” I screamed.
    The toes were scuffed!
    Tiny little holes were starting!
    Victory at last!
    I went down the hill again, sneaker-braking for the last half.
    “Brothers are so weird,” Hazel muttered.
    After ten more rides, the Ruff and Tuffs were looking quite scraggly.
    Suddenly I had a gulp moment.
    I thought about Gus’s mom and dad seeing the destructo-ed Ruff and Tuffs.
    What if they weren’t so happy about Gus’s shoes dying?
    Oh, well, I thought. I was just trying to make Gus feel better.
    And like Mom always says, it’s the thought that counts.
    Besides, it was too late to turn back now.
    I went down that driveway thirty-two more times.
    After ride number thirty-two, I checked Gus’s sneakers again.
    The Shoes that Refuse to Die were going to need a funeral.

12
Everybody’s Cool
    Monday morning I had a dentist appointment for a tooth cleaning.
    I wore a new pair of jeans that were a little too long for me so that Gus’s messed-up shoes wouldn’t catch my mom’s attention.
    I had the feeling she would not be happy about the dead Ruff and Tuffs.
    I chose bubble-gum flavor for my tooth rinse.
    The dentist said try to brush those back teeth more.
    She gave me a travel toothbrush and some floss for a prize.
    Which any kid will tell you is a lame reward.
    Mom dropped me off at school after the dentist.
    I ran straight to class extra fast.
    At least, as fast as I could go, wearing floppy shoes that were ripped to shreds.
    As I reached for the door to class, I heard Ms. Diz doing something