Missing Monkey!

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Missing Monkey! Page 1

by Mary Amato




  OTHER CHAPTER BOOKS BY MARY AMATO

  GOOD CROOKS BOOK TWO

  Dog Gone!

  THE RIOT BROTHERS

  Snarf Attack, Underfoodle, and the Secret of Life: The Riot Brothers Tell All

  Drooling and Dangerous:

  The Riot Brothers Return!

  Stinky and Successful:

  The Riot Brothers Never Stop!

  Take the Mummy and Run:

  The Riot Brothers Are on a Roll!

  EGMONT

  We bring stories to life

  First published by Egmont USA, 2014

  443 Park Avenue South, Suite 806

  New York, NY 10016

  Text copyright © Mary Amato, 2014

  Illustrations copyright © Ward Jenkins, 2014

  All rights reserved

  1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2

  www.egmontusa.com

  www.maryamato.com

  www.wardjenkins.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Amato, Mary.

  Missing monkey! / by Mary Amato ; illustrated by Ward Jenkins.

  1 online resource. – (Good crooks ; book 1)

  Summary: Tired of being pressured to help commit crimes and yearning for a more normal life, twins Jillian and Billy band together to do good deeds while their parents kidnap a monkey from the zoo, hoping to teach it to steal. Includes activities. Description based on print version record and CIP data provided by publisher; resource not viewed.

  ISBN 978-1-60684-403-8 (EBook) –

  ISBN 978-1-60684-396-3 (hardcover)

  [1. Conduct of life–Fiction. 2. Robbers and outlaws–Fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters–Fiction. 4. Twins–Fiction. 5. Family life–Fiction.] I. Jenkins, Ward, illustrator. II. Title.

  PZ7.A49165

  [Fic]–dc233 2013021136

  Printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1 The Cops Are Coming

  2 Don’t Forget Your Purse

  3 Watch Out for Grandma

  4 Ee—ee Uh-oh

  5 Monkey Breath

  6 Grandma Goes Bananas

  7 Try Our New Ketchup Shampoo

  8 Got Any Earwax?

  9 Oops. Wrong Way.

  10 Would You Like to Swing on a Tire?

  11 What Is Cute and Gray and Wrinkled? Me.

  12 Lion Meat

  13 Cakewalk

  14 Happily Elephant After

  Secret Extras

  The Cops Are Coming

  “This is it,” my dad said. “The back door to the Chicago Bank.”

  “The cops are going to be here any second,” my sister added.

  The three of us were dressed in black turtlenecks and our sneaky black caps.

  You guessed it. My dad is a robber. So is my mom. Ron and Tanya Crook. They want my sister, Jillian, and me to follow in their footsteps.

  Dad handed me a sharp metal tool. “Slide it into the lock and jiggle it until the lock pops open.”

  I slid the metal pick in and jiggled it. My face started to sweat.

  “You look scared,” Jillian whispered.

  I was going to say, “You look like a baboon,” but that’s the problem with having a twin. If I tell her she’s ugly, I’m not doing myself any favor. We both have the same freckles, the same big ears, the same knobby knees, and the same giant feet.

  The only thing that’s different about Jillian and me is our pigtails. She has two and I have three. Just kidding, I buzzed my pigtails off last year and gave them to pigs without tails. Just kidding, I’ve been pigtail-free all my life.

  “Focus, Billy. Think of all that money we’re going to steal,” Dad whispered.

  I pictured us running out with bags of cash, and then I pictured the bank owners coming in to find an empty safe. They would be so sad.

  WHAT?????? I’m a Crook. Crooks shouldn’t think about how sad the bank owners will be!

  I glanced at my dad. He was bouncing on his toes. His ten little piggies were happy just thinking about money.

  A thought dropped out of my brain: I do not want to rob any more banks. I want to do something nice for a change!

  I dropped the pick. What was happening to me?

  Suddenly the door opened and a beam of light hit us.

  A tall guard lunged at me. I ducked, and the guard grabbed my dad. “Got you!”

  “This is it,” Dad cried. “The end of our Crook ways!”

  “Good going, bro,” Jillian said.

  The guard laughed and turned on the lights. He wasn’t really a guard. He was my mom. We weren’t really at the back door of the Chicago Bank. We were at home, taking a test on lock picking. And the “bank door” was our closet.

  Mom took off her hat and fluffed up her spiky black hair. “Billy, did you practice?”

  I didn’t have to say a word. My bright red face did all the talking.

  “No bacon on your burger tonight,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Dad said. “Jillian, you take a turn. Then we’ll make Billy do it over till he gets it right.”

  I held out the pick to my sister.

  “Keep it,” Jillian said. “I invented a new lock opener.” She pulled a small black gadget from her pocket. “I call it the Popper.”

  “That’s the remote control for your TV,” I said.

  She grinned. “I reprogrammed it.”

  “Cool!” Dad said. “That’s what you’ve been working on all week?”

  “Enough with the chatter.” Mom was ready to get cracking. “Places! You’ve got exactly sixty seconds to unlock the door, Jillian.”

  “No problem!” Jillian said, turning off the lights.

  Mom locked herself in the closet and yelled, “Go!”

  Jillian pointed her gadget at the door and hit a button.

  Pop!

  She turned the knob and the door opened.

  My parents went mad crazy.

  Mom hugged her.

  “Woohoo!” Dad exclaimed. “Does it work on any lock?”

  “I think so,” Jillian said.

  “Fantastic!” Mom flipped on the lights. “Can you make more of those?”

  Jillian shrugged. “Sure. I can make one for each of us.”

  Mom turned to me. “Billy, do you know what this means?”

  “It’s going to be hard to switch TV channels?” I guessed.

  “No! With Jillian’s new gadget, you’ll be a successful crook, too!” Mom took the Popper out of Jillian’s hand and put it in mine.

  “Cash! Jewels! Gold!” Dad started dancing around.

  I danced around to make my parents think I was happy. Deep inside I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a crook anymore. That was a big problem.

  Don’t Forget Your Purse

  The next morning, a golden beam of sunlight shot through my window and punched me right in the face. I looked at the clock by my bed: 8:00 A.M.

  Mom and Dad would want me to snooze all morning and spend the afternoon stealing, but I couldn’t get back to sleep.

  I put on my stockings, a polka-dotted dress, and a pair of granny kicks.

  You guessed it. My old-lady costume. Jillian and I always have to wear a disguise if we leave the house. All Crooks do.

  I topped off my outfit with a curly gray wig and glasses. One of my best costumes. I call her Mrs. Whiffbacon. Why? I love the whiff of bacon, of course.

  La
st but not least, I grabbed my big brown purse. By the way, big brown purses are very handy. You can stuff a lot of junk into a purse: a wig, a ninja grappling hook, wet wipes to get rid of fingerprints. After you’ve carried a purse for a while, you just feel naked without it.

  In the kitchen, Jillian was typing away on her laptop. She was up this early every morning.

  “Hey, Billy,” she said.

  “Working on your next crime tool?” I asked.

  “Maybe.” She turned her laptop so I couldn’t see.

  I grabbed a bag of cookies for breakfast. While I ate them, I glanced out the window. It was a sunny Saturday. The boy who lived across the street was mowing our neighbor’s lawn. Old Mr. Nelson hobbled out and tried to pay him, but the boy waved away the money.

  What a nice boy, I thought. I’d like to help an old person. And then I choked on my cookie. Crooks shouldn’t want to do good deeds!

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jillian asked. “Forget how to swallow?”

  I got up quickly and headed toward our back door.

  “Where you going?” Jillian called.

  I had to get some fresh air, and some bacon to go with it. I cut through the backyard and headed downtown. We move around a lot and had only been in Lincoln Park a few weeks, so I was still getting to know the neighborhood.

  I stopped at the jewelry store on the corner. The store wasn’t open until ten. Down the street, a man was heading into Mither’s Restaurant—excellent bacon-and-grilled-cheese sandwiches, by the way. Otherwise the block was quiet. This was a perfect time to be a real crook. Imagine how proud Ron and Tanya Crook would be if I stole a diamond ring before they even got out of bed.

  I slipped Jillian’s lock opener out of my purse. I pointed it at the door and was about to press the button when a poster taped in the window caught my eye. The world’s biggest case of goose bumps prickled every inch of my skin.

  A movie began to play in my mind, starring me, Billy Crook. In the movie, I was weeding the flowers next to the Monkey House at the zoo. I was smiling. The zookeepers were smiling. Even the baboons were smiling.

  Just imagining it made me feel all warm inside, like the sun was shining on my great big beating heart.

  Wait! I thought. I should be dreaming of crimes, not good deeds!

  My hand began to shake. I looked in the jewelry store window. Diamond rings. Ruby necklaces. Pearl bracelets. That loot could be mine. But I put the lock opener back in my purse, turned away, and began to race down the street.

  A car drove by, and a teenager stuck his head out the window. “Go, Grandma!”

  Ooops. I slowed to turtle speed.

  I passed by Mither’s, the smell of bacon drifting out the door, but kept walking. After a few blocks, I stopped and pretended to rest on a city bench. I pulled a mirror out of my purse to put on fresh lipstick. Actually, my lips looked fine. I was just using the mirror to see if I was being followed.

  The coast looked clear. I began walking again. Just ahead, I could see the green-and-blue flag of the zoo. Was I really going to do a good deed?

  Was I really going to pass up the chance to steal? Was I really going to pass up the chance to eat bacon? Was I out of my mind?

  Watch Out for Grandma

  “Welcome! Thank you so much for coming! Are you ready to do some gardening?” A round-cheeked woman in a zoo uniform handed me a pair of gardening gloves. Her name tag read SALLY MANDER, ZOO DIRECTOR.

  People were streaming into the zoo entrance. Moms, dads, kids, and even old grandmas like me had all come to work. The birds were singing. The sun was shining. Goodness seemed to be springing up from the ground.

  “We need grass mowing, tree trimming, and garden weeding,” Ms. Mander said. “Where would you like to work?”

  I looked around. “How about by the monkeys?”

  She took me over to the Monkey House. Inside the big cage, the monkeys were climbing on trees and playing on tire swings. A small monkey jumped onto a platform loaded with bananas near the front of the cage.

  “Hi, Razzle,” the director said. “How’s my boy today?”

  “Eh oooh,” Razzle said.

  Another monkey joined Razzle next to the bananas on the platform.

  “Here’s your sister!” The director clapped her hands. “Hi, Dazzle!”

  Razzle and Dazzle clapped their hands, too.

  “This nice woman is going to make your area beautiful!” Ms. Mander pointed at me.

  I waved at Razzle and Dazzle. They waved back. I think they liked me.

  All around the area, the flower beds were choked with ugly weeds. The monkeys watched as Ms. Mander showed how to pull the weeds so the flowers could grow.

  Okay. Time to get to work.

  Yank! Yoink! Yank!

  Zoink! Zink! Zoink!

  I didn’t just yank out the weeds. I defeated them. Say good-bye, weeds! You have finally met your match! That’s how I roll.

  An old woman wearing a big floppy hat walked up. “Looks much better.”

  “Ooohh eeeh eehheh,” Razzle and Dazzle exclaimed.

  I trimmed the dead leaves off the flowers, and the old woman handed me a watering can to give them a drink.

  “Nice job.” The old woman clapped.

  Razzle and Dazzle clapped, too, and I had to laugh.

  It feels good to do a good deed, I thought. Then I dropped the watering can in shock.

  I was doing a good deed and enjoying it! All my life I had been taught that doing good was bad. But if doing good made me feel good, then how could it be bad?

  “Is this your first time here, Mrs. Whiffbacon?” the old woman asked.

  I almost croaked. How could she know my name? She lifted her floppy hat and glasses. It wasn’t an old woman. It was my sister, wearing her Mrs. Sippy costume. I should’ve recognized the plain blue dress. I’ve worn that dress!

  “Jillian!” I exclaimed.

  “Shh,” she whispered. Then she said in her best Mrs. Sippy accent, “Come along, Mrs. Whiffbacon. I want to show you something over here.” She pulled me to the side of the Monkey House. Our monkey friends scampered after us as if they wanted to listen.

  “Billy,” she whispered, “you were acting weird last night and this morning. So I followed you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m—I came here because …” I stopped. I took a big breath. “Jillian, I want to do something nice for a change.”

  The truth popped out of me!

  I felt better, lighter, like somebody had weeded and watered me. But I had a big problem. Jillian was going to freak out. She’d probably tell my parents the whole story.

  Behind her glasses, my sister’s eyes were huge. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “I’m nuts.”

  “No! That’s not what I mean, Billy. I mean, I … I feel the same way,” she said.

  I was shocked. “You’re kidding? You want to do something good, too?”

  She nodded.

  “But what about all your crime inventions?”

  “Ever since I was six and invented that fingerprint eraser, Mom and Dad want me to keep inventing more stuff to help them steal. So that’s what I’ve been doing. But lately …” She leaned closer. “You know Mr. Nelson?”

  “The old guy who lives next to us?”

  She nodded. “I noticed that he has trouble unlocking his door because his hands are so old. So I invented the lock opener and I put one in his mailbox. For free.”

  “That’s so nice!” I said.

  She frowned. “I know. Mom and Dad would be horrified.”

  I wasn’t alone. My sister wanted to do good deeds, too! Joy bubbled up from somewhere deep inside my soul. “Woohoo!” I yelled, and began jumping.

  “Ooohoo!” The monkeys went crazy, yelling and jumping, too.

  “Whoa, Grandma,” Jillian said. “Remember where we are.”

  I stopped and straightened my dress and wig.

  Just then we heard a familia
r voice. “Good morning, ladies!”

  We turned to see two construction workers walking toward us.

  “Oh, no,” Jillian whispered. “It’s Mom and Dad!”

  Ee—ee Uh-oh

  Mom and Dad strolled up in their favorite disguises. They were wearing orange vests and hard hats. Their boots were dirty, as if they’d been working all day. Mom had a full beard. Dad had a bushy mustache.

  Were Mom and Dad spying on us? Did they know we were here at the zoo to do a good deed?

  I looked at Jillian. She was playing it cool. “Good morning,” she said in her Mrs. Sippy voice.

  Dad was carrying orange cones, which he began to set out. Mom had a clipboard and was pretending to write down stuff.

  “So…,” Dad whispered, “what’s shaking?”

  “Not much,” Jillian whispered back. “What are you doing here?”

  “When we woke up and found both of you gone so early,” Mom explained, “we got worried.”

  “But how did you find us?” I asked.

  “We have our ways, Billy.” She smiled. “Why on earth did you come to the zoo?”

  “We—we—” Jillian’s mind must have gone blank. It didn’t happen often. She looked at me for help.

  “We—we—” My mind had gone blank, too.

  “Ee—ee—!” Razzle and Dazzle said, copying us.

  “Check it out!” I laughed, and pointed at the monkeys, trying to change the subject. “Those monkeys do everything we do!”

  Mom and Dad turned to look at the hairy little guys.

  “I get it!” Mom said.

  My knees started to shake.

  “You do?” Jillian’s voice quivered.

  “You’re both brilliant!” Mom said.

  “We are?” I was so confused.

  “Yes!” Mom exclaimed. “You came here to kidnap a monkey! To take it home and teach it to steal!”

  Dad patted me on the back. “That is brilliant! Let’s do it!”

  Steal a monkey! Were they serious?

  Dad started bouncing. “Jillian, do you have your lock opener?”

 

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