Other Books by Suzy Kline
Horrible Harry in Room 2B
Horrible Harry and the Green Slime
Horrible Harry and the Ant Invasion
Horrible Harry’s Secret
Horrible Harry and the Christmas Surprise
Horrible Harry and the Kickball Wedding
Horrible Harry and the Dungeon
Horrible Harry and the Purple People
Horrible Harry and the Drop of Doom
Horrible Harry Moves Up to Third Grade
Horrible Harry Goes to the Moon
Horrible Harry at Halloween
Horrible Harry Goes to Sea
Horrible Harry and the Dragon War
Horrible Harry and the Mud Gremlins
Horrible Harry and the Holidaze
Horrible Harry and the Locked Closet
Horrible Harry and The Goog
Horrible Harry Takes the Cake
Horrible Harry and the Triple Revenge
Horrible Harry Cracks the Code
Horrible Harry Bugs the Three Bears
Horrible Harry and the Dead Letters
Horrible Harry on the Ropes
Horrible Harry Goes Cuckoo
Horrible Harry and the Secret Treasure
Horrible Harry and the June Box
Horrible Harry and the Scarlet Scissors
Horrible Harry and the Stolen Cookie
Horrible Harry and the Missing Diamond
Horrible Harry and the Hallway Bully
Horrible Harry and the Wedding Spies
Horrible Harry and the Top-Secret Hideout
Horrible Harry and the Birthday Girl
Horrible Harry and the Battle of the Bugs
VIKING
Penguin Young Readers Group
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street
New York, New York 10014
First published in the United States of America by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2017
Text copyright © 2017 by Suzy Kline
Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Penguin Random House LLC
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA IS AVAILABLE
Ebook ISBN 9780425290378
Version_1
DEDICATED TO
my five precious grandchildren who love to play outdoor games: Jake, Kenna, Gabby, Saylor, and Holden
Acknowledgments
Heartfelt thanks to the dedicated phys ed staff at Brookside Elementary School in Ossining, New York, for their wonderful field day information, and to the nine-year-old boy there who ran the two-hundred-yard dash in thirty-seven seconds!
And many thanks to Victor for his excellent help with the jump roping, the tug-of-war contest, and Harry's second original riddle.
Special appreciation for my hardworking editor, Margaret Rosenthal, whose encouragement and outstanding editorial work helped me greatly with this book.
And for Rufus for all his support and love.
Contents
Other Books by Suzy Kline
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
The Box
Pickle Jar Picks
The Backfire
Sneak and Peek!
A Big Fat Cheater?
Water Brigade Washout
Relay Revenge
Tug-of-War Tumble
The Perfect Prize!
The Box
Field Day is supposed to be fun. You get to play all kinds of games outdoors and cheer for your team.
But this year, in third grade?
Field Day turned into a war of trouble and revenge.
It all started yesterday morning with a box. A big brown box.
Our teacher, Mrs. Flaubert (who used to be Miss Mackle before she got married), dropped us off for gym class. “Please go to your spots,” she said, “and wait for Mr. Deltoid.”
Spots are colored places on our gym floor about the size of a Frisbee. We each have one. My friend Harry, who likes to do crazy horrible things, raced down the ramp as usual to his yellow spot. He jumped high in the air like he was dunking a basket. Ida leaped and twirled around Harry until she did a final pirouette on her space.
Mary placed her feet on her red spot perfectly so both sneakers fit inside. As soon as Song Lee and Sidney got to their spots, Mary glanced at the wall clock.
“Hey, Doug,” she said. “Looks like Mr. Deltoid is late again. I bet he’s getting coffee in the cafeteria.”
“And a cookie,” I added. “It’s that time of morning when Mrs. Funderburke is baking. Can you smell chocolate?”
“Yes!” Mary said, taking a deep whiff. “Chocolate chip cookies are on our lunch menu.”
When Mary giggled, I did too.
Mrs. Flaubert was waiting at the top of the ramp. She was not giggling.
“Harry!” she called out. “No headstands!”
Harry did a somersault instead.
“Harry Spooger!” our teacher snapped. “You need a mat for that!”
“You’ll break your back,” Mary added.
“Just warming up for Field Day tomorrow!” he said, racing in place.
Mrs. Flaubert folded her arms and waited for Mr. Deltoid.
Finally, he showed up, four minutes late. There was a chocolatey smudge near the corner of his lip, and a coffee stain on his gray sweatshirt.
Mary and I put two thumbs up.
Our teacher gave the gym teacher a quick nod, then took off.
“Hey, boys and girls!” Mr. Deltoid exclaimed as he jogged down the ramp. “I’ve got the biggest news for you!”
We all listened up.
“Tomorrow, as you know, is South School’s Field Day.”
Mr. Deltoid danced over to the gym supply closet and opened the door. “This year, each class will have two Field Day winners. These lucky winners get to open up this . . .”
And then he disappeared into his supply closet.
No one moved. Not even Harry.
“Ta-da!” he said popping out of that little room.
He was holding up a big brown box. There was nothing on it except for a long piece of masking tape that went over the top. We had no clue what was inside.
When Mr. Deltoid dropped the box, it landed with a thud on the gym floor.
“This is packed with Field Day prizes,” he said. Lots of us cheered, but Harry was the loudest.
Our gym teacher continued, “First place in any event wins three points, second place earns two, and third place one. Anyone who displays bad sportsmanship will lose a point, so remember that when you think of firing a bean bag at someone.”
After we laughed, Mr. Deltoid added, “The partner team with the highest score will get to choose Room 3B’s gift out of this box.” Then he tapped it like a drum.
“Can we pick partners now?” ZuZu asked.
I immediately looked over at Harry. I wanted to be his partner. He was pointing at me and flash
ing his white teeth.
“Yes,” the gym teacher answered, “but we’ll do it by drawing names out of a jar. It’s good to mix things up! There’s always a little luck in every sports event, and it’s good to work with different people!”
Harry immediately made prayer hands. It would take a miracle!
Our class had twenty kids, which meant the odds were against us!
I made prayer hands too.
Pickle Jar Picks
While we took four laps around the gym, Mr. Deltoid quickly cut up our class list. It had our names on it in large bold print. He scooped up the strips of paper and dropped them into his big plastic jar. It had a picture of a green dill pickle on the front.
Harry finished his laps first easily. Dexter and I tied for second. ZuZu, Song Lee, Sid, and Ida weren’t far behind us. Mary was last as usual.
As soon as she rounded that fourth lap, Mr. Deltoid called us over. “Okay, guys, let’s get started. If I call your name, come up and pick your partner out of the pickle jar. That’s fair and square!”
Not fair, I thought. Harry and I haven’t been partners all year. Last time, I got bossy Mary for a bug partner!
Our gym teacher picked the first name out of the jar. “Sidney!” he called. Sid hurried over.
“I like . . . being . . . first!” he said, a little out of breath. He swished his hand inside the big pickle jar and pulled out a name. “IDA!” he yelled.
Ida skipped over to Sid and slapped him five. Those two played jump rope a lot together at recess.
Mr. Deltoid pointed to a bin of white T-shirts. “The PTA has donated these for tomorrow’s Field Day, so take one and go over to the side tables. There are special Magic Markers there along with scratch paper, pens, and rulers. Come up with a good name for your team and get busy designing your T-shirts.”
Mr. Deltoid picked again. “ZuZu!”
ZuZu ran over and pulled a paper strip from the pickle jar. “Dexter!” he cheered.
Dexter pretended to strum a guitar like Elvis. “Dude!” he sang out. “I’m all shook up!”
They were going to be a tough combo to beat.
Harry moved his prayer hands up to his lips.
“Song Lee!” the teacher hollered.
Song Lee hurried over and reached into the jar. “Mary!” she said with a big smile.
Both girls joined hands and skipped away.
When it was Harry’s turn, he flew up to the pickle jar with outstretched arms, then yanked out a paper strip. He had the wrong side so he turned it over. After staring at it for a long moment, he screamed, “DOUGO!”
Everyone laughed. Harry is the only one who calls me that. I couldn’t believe it! It was a miracle! Harry and I leaped in the air!
“I’m so psyched!” I said. “This never happens!”
“I know,” Harry said as we walked over to the T-shirt bin. “I had to do something about it.”
I immediately stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean . . . Harry?”
He smiled ear to ear. “I got lucky!”
“How?” I said. Harry showed me his strip of paper.
Both sides were blank.
My eyes bulged.
When I heard my name being called again, I slowly turned around. There were just a few other kids left.
“Harry must have dropped Doug’s name back into the jar,” the teacher guessed. “Let’s pick a different name.”
Whoa . . . I was so relieved.
“Come on, Dougo,” Harry said, “we need a name for our team.” We grabbed our tees and found a place at one of the two long art tables.
For the next forty-five minutes, we all designed our T-shirts at the tables in the gym.
Harry came up with the name for our team: the Speedy Spiders!
Actually, spiders give me the willies, but Harry loves creepy creatures. He even had a pet spider once, Charles. Their webs are awesome, though, so I agreed and started making one with a ruler.
Twenty minutes later, I checked out the competition. Song Lee and Mary made T-shirts with flying birds. Their rainbow wings were really cool.
ZuZu and Dexter were the Rockin’ Dudes. They drew two guys with Elvis hairdos dashing to the finish line.
Sidney and Ida were the Star Jumpers. They had bright orange and yellow stars outlined in black all over their shirts.
If I stood up, I could see more at the far table. The best team name there was—the Dashing Doorknobs.
Harry leaned over and whispered, “We’re going to win tomorrow, Dougo.”
“I hope so!” I replied. “Just no more fast ones, Harry. We were lucky not to get in trouble.”
I had no idea then that Harry’s pickle jar trick was about to backfire.
The Backfire
As soon as the clock turned eleven, Mrs. Flaubert appeared on the ramp. She was smiling again.
“Line up, kids!” Mr. Deltoid roared. “Harry and Doug, stay put.” His hand was resting on Harry’s shoulder. “We need to talk,” he said softly.
Uh-oh, I thought.
Mr. Deltoid had a quick word with our teacher before she left. Then he joined our table. “So, do you boys want to tell me anything?” he asked.
I said nothing. I couldn’t tattle on my buddy.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow, Mr. Deltoid!” Harry said with a jack-o’-lantern grin.
Mr. Deltoid lowered his eyebrows. “Nothing about the partner drawing?”
Harry looked into Mr. Deltoid’s dark probing eyes. He was cornered. Very slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his blank strip of paper.
“It was like getting a Chance card in Monopoly,” Harry confessed. “There wasn’t a name on it, so I read it as Doug. We haven’t been partners all year. Not even once!”
“So you thought it was a Pick Your Own Partner Card?”
“Yes, Mr. Deltoid,” Harry said. “Sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I blurted out.
“Well, the partners came out even. And apparently, I did include one blank. But you should have acknowledged it instead of trying to sneak it by me.”
Harry nodded. “You’re right. I won’t do it again!”
Mr. Deltoid got up. “Okay,” he said, tapping the table. “We’ll leave it as it is. The T-shirts are already designed. But there is a consequence! You two are cleaning up this mess. Sponges and spray bottles are in the closet. I want every streak off these tables, and everything put away!”
“Absolutely!” Harry replied, standing up like a soldier and saluting him. “We’re on it! Right, Doug?”
“Right!” I agreed, then immediately picked up a green marker off the floor and dropped it into the tin can.
“When I return,” Mr. Deltoid added as he walked up the ramp, “I expect to find your work done, and done well.”
I knew where he was going.
To the cafeteria, which was on the same basement floor as the gym. He wanted another warm cookie.
It didn’t take us long to gather up all the Magic Markers and get them back in the tins. Harry rubbed and scrubbed the colorful streaks off one table, and I wiped down the other. “No more marks,” I said proudly.
“Great! I’ll put the markers away,” Harry said, and he carried the tins into the open supply closet.
When he didn’t come out right away, I started to wonder what he was doing in there. After a minute or so, I decided to check on him. “What’s taking you so . . .”
My eyes felt like they’d popped out of my sockets.
“HARRY! What are you doing?”
Sneak and Peek!
Harry’s fingers were peeling the masking tape off that big box of prizes! “Stop!” I said. “You’ll get in BIG trouble! Me too!”
Harry held up a hand. “Just peeking, Dougo. I’m not taking anything. I never steal. Just pee
king . . .”
Harry peeled off the rest of the tape and attached it to a shelf. “Look!” he said. “It’s a dangling rattlesnake. Cool, huh?”
None of this was cool to me. It was horrible!
Harry opened up the two flaps and looked inside at all the prizes. “Boring, boring, boring . . .” he groaned.
Then . . . he spied something at the bottom. “Oh man . . . you have to see this, Dougo! It’s the perfect prize for Room 3B! Everyone will love it!”
I covered my eyes. “I don’t want to know what it is!”
I ducked outside and glanced up at the ramp. “Mr. Deltoid will be coming soon!” I called out.
When I peeked in on Harry again, he was putting the flaps back down on the box and reaching for that snakelike tape.
“We have to win tomorrow, Dougo!” Harry said, smoothing the sticky strip across the top of the box. “We have to be the ones to pick Room 3B’s prize!”
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching the ramp. “Mr. Deltoid’s coming!” I warned.
Seconds later, Harry jumped out of the supply closet like Superman. “Done!” he said, grabbing our tees off the table and tossing me mine. “Let’s go meet him!”
As we hurried across the gym, I whispered, “Don’t tell me what you saw in that Field Day box.”
“Your call!” Harry said. “Just look forward to a cool surprise!”
“Hey, boys!” Mr. Deltoid boomed. “Let’s see how well you cleaned up.”
Oh man, I thought. Did Harry leave the box exactly where he found it? Was the tape on good enough?
We watched while Mr. Deltoid checked the tables then walked into his supply cabinet.
One goof, and Mr. Deltoid would know someone was messing with his stuff. “Nice job, guys,” he finally said.
“Thanks!” Harry replied.
I exhaled deeply. Phew! I thought.
Horrible Harry and the Field Day Revenge! Page 1