by Abby Hanlon
“Stop talking to that bar of soap. And why is there so much water on the floor?” she yells, slipping on the bathroom tile.
“There were a lot of big fights in here,” I say.
* * *
• • •
That night at dinner I tell my family that I don’t think my nickname should be Rascal anymore. “Because what does that even mean? Nobody knows!”
“It means troublemaker,” says Luke. “Duh.”
“It does??? Heeeeeyyyyyy! MOM?!”
“Not in a bad way, in a loving way,” says my mom.
“I want a new nickname! From now on, just call me . . . Tiny Tough!” I say, and flex my muscles.
Luke spits out his drink, laughing. “Nobody is going to call you that,” he says.
“Mrs. Gobble Gracker does,” I say.
“You’re friends with Mrs. Gobble Gracker now?” Violet laughs.
I hate it when they laugh at me and I don’t know why. “Not exactly friends . . .” I say. “More like business partners.”
“So, you’ve crossed over to the dark side?” asks Luke. “Like in Star Wars?”
“Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny,” says my dad.
Later that night:
I find out that Mrs. Gobble Gracker cannot handle having a walkie-talkie. She keeps hitting the TALK button without realizing it. I hear her say a lot of weird stuff. What is she doing?
“This is Tiny Tough to Long Bones. Do you know you keep pushing the TALK button? Can you please stop? I have to go to bed. Do you copy?”
When Mrs. Gobble Gracker is finally quiet, I think about Mary. I miss her soft, fuzzy fur. I miss her loud monster laugh. I miss her sneaky run. I miss all our games that we play. I even miss when she gets mad at me and goes bonkers and sits on top of me. I wonder what she’s doing right now. And when is she going to come home?
How do you fall asleep when you don’t have a monster under your bed?
CHAPTER 5
Sock Muscles
The next morning I put socks in my shirt so it looks like I have big muscles. Rosabelle and George love my muscles. “Just call me Tiny Tough,” I tell them. “That’s my pirate name.”
“Let’s pretend I’m a pirate princess!” says Rosabelle. “And we live on a little island together!”
“Arrgh!” I say.
“And let’s pretend a bottle floated to our island with a treasure map inside!” Rosabelle adds.
“And we have to go on a treasure hunt,” I say.
“I’ll make a treasure map!” she says, taking out her notebook.
“Can I be your parrot?” asks George.
“Yes! But since you’re a parrot,” she says, drawing the map, “you have to copy whatever I say, ’cause that’s what parrots do.”
“Squawk! Squawk!” George says in a super high screechy parrot voice. He flies around the schoolyard and crashes into the fence.
“That’s not copying me, George!” yells Rosabelle. “Get back here right now!”
That morning, our teacher says we are going to learn a new song for math today. It’s about counting money. She sings, “Penny penny, easily spent, copper brown and worth one cent.” And we sing it back. But George sings in his super high, screechy parrot voice. The teacher says, “Who’s singing in that awful voice? Whoever that is, please stop.”
We sing, “Nickel nickel, thick and fat, you’re worth five cents, I know that.”
“George, is that you? Sing in your regular voice, please!” says the teacher.
In his super high, screechy parrot voice, George says, “Sing in your regular voice please!” All the kids burst out laughing. Rosabelle whispers to me, “NOW he decides to copy?”
“George! That is not funny! You are not allowed to sing anymore!” says the teacher.
Then we go back to our desks so we can work on counting money. “Sit nicely, and the math helpers will pass out the plastic coins,” says the teacher.
I write my new name on my math paper.
“This is so easy!” says Albert. “I could count money when I was three.”
“When you were three, I bet you looked like a baked potato,” I tell him.
When I see the coins, I get very excited. I mouth the words to myself, “All the treasure in the world is mine.”
At first I just sneak a few coins from Albert when he isn’t looking. But once I get the greedy and all-powerful feeling of being super rich, I sneak around the classroom and rob handfuls of money off the tables.
I use one of my sock muscles as a money bag.
“Dory, we’re counting the money, we aren’t playing with it!” the teacher says. “And if you don’t stop playing, you’re going to have to miss recess . . . again.”
Rosabelle grabs me by the shoulders. “Tiny Tough,” she whispers. “You CANNOT miss recess today . . .” Now she’s talking in her dead serious voice. “. . . because a group of really mean pirates came to our island! They stole my treasure map, and they tied me up! And YOU have to rescue me!”
“I think I know those pirates . . .” I say.
“You’re the only one who can save me!” she says. “What would I do without you?”
I don’t know how to tell time, but I quietly stare at the clock anyway. Because I can’t wait for recess.
Finally:
Recess was more fun than ever.
After school, I see Violet alone. And then I see Anna with Hazel together on the other side of the schoolyard.
I march up to Anna. She smiles at me and says, “Hi, Rascal, what’s up?”
I show her my muscles and in my gruffest pirate voice I yell, “IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO SPANK THE FISHIES!”
And then I do the Macarena.
Why are they giggling? This is a disaster. Now what do I do? I feel like dying. So I pretend to stab myself in the heart. I close my eyes and make disgusting dying noises and fall over.
“Is she okay?” asks Hazel.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” says Anna.
“I’m dead,” I say.
“Then why are you talking?” asks Anna.
I think about this for a second. Then I jump up and run away.
Luckily, Violet doesn’t see any of this.
On our walk home, I tell Luke and Violet that George isn’t allowed to sing anymore and all about stealing the fake money.
“So you almost missed recess . . . for stealing fake money?” asks Luke.
“Yup,” I say. “But don’t tell Mom.”
“If there is anyone in this world who would steal fake money, it would be you, Rascal,” says Violet. “Actually . . . I kinda like that about you.”
CHAPTER 6
Opposite Day
As soon as I get home, I grab my walkie-talkie. “Tiny Tough to Long Bones—please state your location.”
“Meet me at Monkey Island,” she says. “Use the map I left under your pillow, over.”
“10-4,” I say.
On Monkey Island, we dig for treasure. But the monkeys keep throwing coconuts at Mrs. Gobble Gracker. “Why aren’t they throwing them at you?” she yells.
“Because everybody loves Tiny Tough,” I say. But when I look through her telescope, I don’t feel so good anymore.
Mary and Starletta are snorkeling together.
I sit by the edge of the water and cry. A large fish tail splashes out of the water.
Wait, it’s not a fish . . .
“Mr. Nuggy! You’re here!” I yell. “Are you a mermaid?”
“No!” he says. “It’s Opposite Day! So I turned my feet into a tail and ate dinner for breakfast! And then I thought, what the heck—I’ll just wear this bikini and go for a swim.”
“I love Opposite Day!” I say. “I mean—I hate Opposite Day!
; “Guess what?” I tell him. “I’m a baby and Mrs. Gobble Gracker is my partner!”
“Ha-ha-ha! That’s a great idea for Opposite Day! I mean, a terrible idea!”
“No, I’m serious! I mean, I’m not serious!”
“Okay, Mr. Nuggy, don’t listen,” I say. “I don’t need your help at all.”
“I’m not listening,” says Mr. Nuggy with a twinkle in his eye. “Not one little bit.”
“Mary has a REAL friend,” I say slowly. And in my angriest voice I say, “And I’m sooooooo HAPPY about it.” Then I ask, “Can you not do a spell on Mary to make her imagination BIGGER*?”
“Nope,” he says, smiling. “I definitely can’t do that.”
“Don’t do it now! She’s not over there!” I yell, and point to her in the water.
Then I climb up the ship’s mast so I can get a better view of Mr. Nuggy’s magic.
“Aaaahhhhhhh! Oh my gosh, you scared me! Get down right now! What on earth are you doing on top of the refrigerator?” gasps my mom.
“I’m on top of Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s pirate ship!” I tell her.
“And give me that baguette!” she says.
“And I can see everything from up here!”
“You know, Rascal, if I knew that you would behave this way, I would have told George’s parents that you are NOT grown up enough for a sleepover.”
“Sleepover? Did you say sleepover?”
“George’s parents have to go to a party and their babysitter canceled, so I told them that George could sleep here tonight. But now I really—”
“Tonight? My first sleepover! I’ll behave!”
“Okay, then show me,” says my mom.
But as soon as my mom leaves the room . . .
“You’re my baby forever—remember?” says Mrs. Gobble Gracker. “I’m taking you right back.”
“If you don’t let me go, I’ll never get to see George in his pajamas! And I bet he’s going to wear his volcano pajamas! I just know it! ’Cause they’re his favorite! He always talks about them!”
Mrs. Gobble Gracker takes me back to the ship and wraps me up so tight in a blanket that I can’t move my arms. I cry louder than any baby has ever cried.
Night falls. For a while everything is quiet. The ocean is still. The sky is full of stars.
When the sun rises, a little bunny hops inside my crib.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m Mary’s friend.”
“Mary’s friend. What’s your name?”
“Mary didn’t name me yet. Can you name me?” she says.
Before I can think of a name . . .
I see another bunny.
And then another one.
And then three more.
And then my crib is full of them. And then I see the entire ship is full of creatures that look sort of cute and sort of dumb.
“We’re being attacked by I don’t know what!” I hear Mrs. Gobble Gracker screaming. “Load the cannons!”
“Mary! You’re here!”
“Rascal! Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard you were captured! And all my imaginary friends came to help!” says Mary.
Mary frees me from my blanket and I jump out of my crib.
“How did you get so many friends?” I ask her.
“I have no idea! I was snorkeling with Starletta, and I felt a little sparkly zap on my brain and then all of a sudden my imagination started exploding! I couldn’t stop thinking of new friends!”
“Interesting,” I say. “Hold on a second.”
I look out from the side of the ship to find Mr. Nuggy sunbathing on a rock.
“I meant shrink her imagination!” I yell. “Remember? It’s Opposite Day?”
“It’s okay,” I say.
“Can we go home?” asks Mary. “I’m way too popular here!”
“Next time, I hope you come on vacation too,” Starletta says to me.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. I give her a hug, because, what the heck. She looks like she really wants one.
With Mary home, safe and sound and sitting on the toilet, I put on my nightgown and then run to tell Luke and Violet the big news. “Guess what! George is sleeping over! Tonight! And I know he’s going to wear his volcano pajamas!”
“You’re having a sleepover? You? Even my little sister is having a sleepover?” says Violet. A big tear rolls down her cheek.
Oh no! She knows about the secret sleepover.
“But you can play with us!” I tell Violet.
“When pigs fly!” says Violet. “That means never, by the way.” And then she runs upstairs crying.
I wait at the window for George.
When Mary’s friends fly by, I wonder . . . maybe Violet will have some sleepover fun after all.
CHAPTER 7
The Sleepover
Just when I think I’ll die if I have to wait one more second, George arrives wearing his volcano pajamas. And he has on a giant camping backpack. My mom says, “Wow, George, it looks like you came very prepared.”
“My parents said I could pack my bag by myself,” says George.
“How responsible of you,” says my mom, giving me a look.
“They were in a rush,” he says.
The bag is so big George has to crawl up the stairs. I help push him up.
When we reach my room, I ask, “What did you pack? What’s in your backpack? Open it!”
George pulls out one very large thing.
“A rubber sleeping bag?”
“No, it’s a rubber raft. We can blow it up!”
“That’s all you packed?”
“I couldn’t fit the oars,” he says.
“No clothes? No toothbrush? No underwear?” I ask him.
“I only wear underwear on special occasions,” says George. “Now, guess why I brought this raft?”
“Ummm . . . In case my house has a big flood?”
“Nope, guess again.”
“Because you pee when you’re sleeping? So you need a waterproof bed? I won’t tell anyone.”
“NO! For TUBTOWN, you silly!!” he says. “You don’t need to buy it because now we can just play it!”
Wow, George is the greatest friend in the whole universe.
We take turns blowing up the raft. It takes a long time.
We use up all the air inside us.
When we get our energy back, we put on bathing suits and throw the raft down the stairs. Then we carry it to the backyard.
We find big sticks to row with. “Row faster!” George keeps yelling.
“We’re almost there!” I say. “I think I see it!”
We go up the elevator.
Eat fish and chips.
Slide head first.
Take a shower.
Look out from the lighthouse.
Jump off the diving board.
And then we have a visitor.
“Wow. This is nice and cozy,” says Luke.
“Let’s dump him out,” I say.
“Violet, help me!” yells Luke. “I need backup!”
Violet and Luke drag us out of the raft. But we keep running and jumping back in and they drag us out again. Everybody is laughing.
I don’t know why, but George keeps calling Violet “Sergeant.”
“Help! The Sergeant got me!” yells George.
“Stop calling me that,” says Violet. “Although . . . it might be fun to be the Sergeant and boss you guys around.”
“YES! Boss us around! Please!” I beg.
“Please, Sergeant!” begs George.
“I know! Let’s play army boot camp!” says Luke.
“Okay,” says Violet, “I want 50 push-ups from each of you.”
Then my mom calls from the window, “Violet! Anna is on the phone.”
Violet runs inside.
We stop doing push-ups. I peek in the window and spy on Violet.
I can’t hear what she is saying, but she is smiling.
I lie in the grass with Luke and George. “I guess this is the end of our game,” says Luke.
But then Violet comes back . . . blowing a whistle! “YAY!” we all cheer. “The Sergeant is back!”
She makes us do jumping jacks and run around the yard.
After our warm-ups, the Sergeant says we are ready for our first challenge. We have to make all the beds in the house.
“No way! They don’t make their beds in the army!” I complain.
“Of course they do!” yells the Sergeant. We try really hard. But when the Sergeant comes to inspect she says we all failed.
After dinner, we compete in our next challenge. It’s called “Who Has the Most Will Power?” which means who can eat their chocolate pudding last. We all tie for last place. “I guess I’m the winner even though I wasn’t even playing,” says the Sergeant.