“Yes,” said Mr. Todd. “The Great Third-Grade Spelling Bee will be held at our sister school, Orchard Elementary, in Washington, D.C.”
“Did you know that’s where the White House is?” Judy asked.
“I am aware of that, yes,” said Mr. Todd, smiling.
“Well, did you know they also have the Museum of Doctor Stuff with a for-real Abraham Lincoln bone?”
“I did not know that,” said Mr. Todd. “Very interesting.”
“It is,” said Judy. “They have an actual hunk of his skull. No lie.”
“Ooh! Gross!” said the other kids in the class.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll get a chance to see it.” Mr. Todd stood up and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, Class 3T. Are you ready for our practice bee? All the words are from the study sheets you’ve been working on these last few weeks. When I call your name, please come up front and face the class. Spell your word and use it in a sentence, please.”
Judy Moody could not keep her mind on spelling. All she could think about was how much she wanted to go to Washington, D.C. D.C. was for Definitely Cool!
If only she didn’t have to spell to get there.
Then Judy remembered. She, Judy Moody, had her lucky penny.
Frank spelled measles with a Z. Rocky spelled quesadilla, but he forgot about the Ls and said Y instead. And Jessica “A-is-for-Aardwolf” Finch spelled bonanza. Perfectly. Z and all.
Judy would rather get measles than have to spell quesadilla in a spelling bonanza.
Finally, Mr. Todd called on Judy. She took one last look at her study sheet before getting up. Her feet felt like cement. Her stomach turned a somersault. If only she could write spelling words in graffiti on her hand.
That would get her nowhere but the principal’s office.
Judy stood in front of the class. Her hands started to sweat. She reached into her pocket and rubbed her lucky penny.
Please give me a lucky word, she thought to herself. An easy-peasy word from page one of the study pages, like berry or cherry or funny or bunny.
“Judy,” said Mr. Todd. “The word is punctuate.”
Punk-chew-ate! Punctuate was not a lucky word. Punctuate was not an easy-peasy page-one word. Punctuate was not berry or cherry or funny or bunny! Judy felt a lump in her throat. Her mouth went bone-dry as a desert. She felt cactus prickles up and down her arms.
Maybe she was coming down with a measles bonanza.
She looked around the room for help. Posters lined the bulletin board. Posters for grammar, spelling, and . . . punctuation!
Holy Macaroni! This was her lucky day after all. Punctuate was part of punctuation. All she had to do was remember to end with an e.
“Punctuate. P-U-N-C-T-U-A-T-um-E! Punctuate.” She let out a whoosh of air.
“Can you use it in a sentence?” asked Mr. Todd.
“I’d like to punctuate the person who thought up spelling bees,” said Judy.
Class 3T cracked up.
Mr. Todd rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I think we’ll have to punctuate this spelling bee until tomorrow.” He turned to erase the board. “Don’t forget to take your study packets home, class. Pair up with a study buddy and practice, practice, practice. Our class spelling bee is in one week.”
“Wowzer, Judy!” said Frank as soon as the final bell rang. “How did you know how to spell that hard word?”
“Pure luck,” said Rocky. “It was right there on the bulletin board, huh, Judy? I saw you see it.”
“For real? I didn’t even see you see me see it!” said Judy.
“You’re like the luckiest person on the planet or something,” said Frank.
Judy did not even say “Or something.” She was the luckiest person ever. There was no stopping her now.
“Bye, Mr. Todd,” Judy said on her way out the door. “See you in Washington, D.C.”
“Keep up that positive attitude, Judy. I’ve always said you can do anything you set your mind to. Even spelling.”
Judy smiled a secret smile to herself. Mr. Todd did not know that she, Judy Moody, was on a lucky streak. And she planned to ride that lucky streak all the way to Washington, D.C.
It was one week, two study buddies (Rocky plus Frank), and three practice bees later.
Judy Moody shook her Magic 8 Ball.
“Will I win the class spelling bee?”
Reply hazy.
“Will I finally get to go to Washington, D.C.?”
Ask again later.
Double drat!
“Judy?” said Dad. “Your class bee is tomorrow, isn’t it? Are you up to speed on all your spelling words?”
“Berry, furry, merry, hurry, cherry, bunny, funny,” said Judy.
“We mean past page one of your spelling packet,” said Mom.
Hello! Judy reached into her pocket and pulled out her lucky penny. She held it up for Mom and Dad to see.
Mom came over and put an arm around her shoulder. “Honey, I know how much you like that lucky penny. And it’s fine to carry it around — for fun.”
“But if you’re serious about winning a spelling bee,” said Dad, “you’re going to have to work at it.”
Mom nodded. “You’re not going to win the spelling bee based on one lucky penny.”
“In fact —” began Dad, but Judy did not want to hear it. She clomped upstairs to study before Mom and Dad could say any more bad stuff about good luck.
She took out her spelling list. She turned to the hard page. As in D-I-F-F-I-C-U-L-T.
Destiny. She closed her eyes. Des+tiny. D-E-S-T-I-N-Y. It was her own tiny destiny to go to Washington, D.C.
So far so good. Next word. Present. She closed her eyes again. P-R-E-S-I-D-E-N-T. The president lived in Washington, D.C. Just think. If she, Judy Moody, was lucky enough to go to D.C., she just-might-maybe see the president himself.
Judy opened her eyes and stared at the word present-not-president. She’d practiced the wrong word. It was no use.
She got out a fake-fur neon-pink rabbit’s-foot keychain, three acorns, two cat’s-eye marbles, and one lucky stone. Seven more lucky charms!
Her mother was probably right. One lucky penny was not enough to win a spelling bee. She would fill the pockets of her cargo pants with tons of good-luck charms. Good luck times seven!
Judy went to sleep sure that good luck was her destiny for the present.
Until . . . the next day.
Spelling Bee day!
On the bus, Judy reached into her right shorts pocket. Empty! Of all days to oversleep. How could she forget to wear her pants full of lucky charms? Seven extra-sure foolproof lucky charms were in the pockets of her cargo pants — at home on her bottom bunk. Bringing good luck to nobody, except maybe Mouse the cat.
She reached into her left pocket. Phew! Good thing she still had her lucky penny. All was not lost.
“Third-graders!” said Mr. Todd when Judy got to school. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!”
“What are you ready for?”
“Spelling Bee!”
“Put away your study folders and form a line at the back of the room,” said Mr. Todd. “May the best speller win!”
Judy put her spelling folder away. She never did make it past the first few words on the hard page.
All of a sudden, she did not feel so good. She was in a cherry-berry hurry-flurry to get out of the room.
“Mr. Todd, may I please go to the restroom?” Judy asked.
“Quickly,” said Mr. Todd.
Judy speed-walked down the hall to the girls’ bathroom. She did not really have to go, but she sat down on the toilet. She hummed “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” to calm herself down. She recited “Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo” from a story her dad used to tell her about a kid with a very long name.
Judy did not know how many minutes went by. But if she stayed away much longer, Mr. Todd would send somebody to find her.
On the way back to class,
she reached into her pocket to rub her lucky penny.
Holy Macaroni!
Her left pocket was empty! The lucky penny was G-O-N-E gone!
Judy rushed back to the girls’ room. She looked around the sink. She looked on the floor. She looked you-know-where.
There, in all its copper coolness, was her lucky penny. In the toilet!
The upside-down horseshoe smiled up at her.
She did not have a ruler. She did not have a grouchy pencil. She did not have anything to fish it out with. She, Judy Moody, stuck her real-not-fake hand in the toilet! C-O-L-D cold! G-R-O-S-S gross! Yuck and double-bluck.
She fished out the lucky penny.
Judy ran to the sink and washed off the lucky penny. With soap. Double phew! That was a close one.
Back in Room 3T, the spell-a-thon was in full swing. Judy slid into line.
Jessica Finch got the word bamboo. No fair! Easy-peasy. Rocky got caboose. Double easy-peasy. Frank got waffle. His favorite food!
At last it was Judy’s turn. Her heart beat faster. She double-crossed her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut. Easy word, easy word, she wished on her lucky penny.
“The word is Chihuahua,” said Mr. Todd.
Holy Burrito!
Judy opened her eyes. Chi-wa-wa! That was a way-hard word. A hard word that was not bunny or funny. A NOT page-one word.
She tried to picture the word. But all she could see were pugs. Not one Chihuahua. Maybe if she started spelling, she’d get lucky.
Judy cleared her throat. “C-H-I . . .” Yikes. What came next? “H-A-W-A-I-I. Chihuahua.”
“Sorry,” said Mr. Todd. “Incorrect. But you did spell Hawaii nicely.”
What? Judy was dumbstruck. Her feet were frozen to her spot on the floor. This could not be happening. Judy was O-U-T out on the first word?
“Thank you, Judy,” said Mr. Todd. “You may take your seat.”
Judy sat down. She slumped in her chair. What in the world made her spell Hawaii? Had her lucky penny gone for-sure-and-absolute C-U-C-K-O-O?
For the rest of the spell-a-thon, the room was a tornado of whirling, swirling words: Mermaid. Butterscotch. Tornado.
But Judy Moody did not seem to hear. Or see. Or notice.
Finally . . . Jessica Finch was the only one left standing. What an aardwolf.
“And the winner is Jessica Finch!” said Mr. Todd. “Congratulations, Jessica. You will be representing Class 3T in the Great Third-Grade Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C.”
Everybody whooped and clapped. Judy clapped, too. But she was not clapping on the inside.
Of all the luck! She, Judy Moody, would not be going to Washington, D.C. Her chances of visiting the District of Cool had just gone Down the Can. As in toilet.
Toilet! Of course! Her lucky penny. It must have gone kerflooey when she dropped it in the toilet. The toilet messed up its magic, jinxing her double-bad. Judy took the penny from her pocket. The smiling horseshoe had become an upside-down frown. ROAR!
Good-bye, good-luck penny. Hello, bad-luck charm.
As soon as Judy got home, she looked for a place to hide her P.U. un-lucky penny. She zoomed around the house. Where-o-where? Stink’s room! Stink liked smelly stuff, and he was not afraid of cooties.
She looked all around. Under Stink’s pillow. Perfecto! Good riddance to bad luck.
Cheese Louise. Now she had NO luck at all. If she was going to keep her good-luck streak going, she needed a brand-new, un-P.U. good-luck charm for sure.
Judy grabbed the magnifying glass from her detective kit. She ran outside. Crawling on all fours, she peered closely at the grass, searching for a four-leaf clover for what felt like an hour. Or longer.
All of a sudden, the back door banged. “Whatcha doing?” Stink asked.
“Something,” she said without looking up.
“Something what?” Stink asked, nose-to-nose with the grass now, too.
“I’m looking for good luck,” said Judy, still not looking up.
“I had some good luck. Just now,” said Stink. He blew a bubble-gum bubble and popped it. “I found three whole pieces of Yubba Dubba gum in my desk that I didn’t even know I had. Lucky, huh? The fortune in the comic says You will soon take a trip.”
Judy looked up. A trip! As in Washington, D.C.? If only she had gotten that fortune. No such luck. She went back to her search.
“Is that lucky grass or something?” Stink asked.
“Or something. If you must know, Stinker, I’m looking for a lucky four-leaf clover.” So far she had found one rock, three dandelions, and about ten-hundred un-lucky three-leaf clovers. Not one single clover with four leaves.
Not even a lucky ladybug.
“Did you know the odds of finding a four-leaf clover are like ten-thousand to one? That means you have to look through nine-thousand nine-hundred and ninety-nine three-leaf clovers to find one.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Judy.
“It’s possible,” said Stink. “A guy in Alaska found 111,060 four-leaf clovers.”
“Maybe I should move to Alaska,” said Judy.
Just then, something landed on Stink’s arm. “Hey, a ladybug!” said Stink. “Aren’t they good luck?”
Judy popped up. “Just my luck. A ladybug landed on you!”
“Cool! Three lucky things have happened to me since I got home from school,” said Stink. “I found that bubble gum I didn’t know I had. And now this ladybug landed on me.”
“That’s two things. What’s the third thing?”
“The third thing was really the first thing, which is why the second and third things must have happened.”
“Is this a riddle?” Judy asked.
“Look what I found under my pillow.” Stink held up the lucky penny. “And I didn’t even lose a tooth! It’s my lucky penny now. That’s the third lucky thing that was really the first lucky thing.”
Yikes. Maybe Judy had ditched the penny too soon. “Fine. But just so you know . . . it’s a bad-luck penny now.”
“Is not!” Stink held it right up to his face and planted a kiss on it. “Mine o mine o mine!” he sang.
“GROSS!” yelled Judy, making an ucky-blucky face.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” said Judy.
Stink eyed the penny suspiciously now. “Tell me.”
“It’s just that — the penny has cooties.”
“You’re just saying that,” said Stink.
“Stink, do you want to know why it’s a bad-luck penny with cooties now? Because something happened that changed the good luck to bad.”
“What?”
“It went plop. It did a high-dive belly flop. Whooo . . . PSSH!” Judy mimed a high dive with her hand.
“Huh?”
“The toilet, Stink. I dropped it in the toilet!”
“UCCCKKK! Bluck, bluck, bluck, bluck, BLUCK!” Stink let go of the penny. It flew through the air and plopped in the grass. Judy made note of where it landed.
“Good riddance to bad cooties,” said Stink. “You can be in that T. P. Club all by yourself. The Toilet Penny Club.”
“Ha, ha, very funny, Stink,” said Judy.
Stink ran inside the house. Judy crawled across the grass and plucked the penny from the crabgrass, smiling as if she’d just picked a four-leaf clover.
She did NOT kiss the penny. She put it back in her pocket.
Just then Mom called, “Judy, can you come inside for a sec?”
Judy ran into the kitchen. Dad stood at the sink, doing dishes. Stink was eating frozen corn from a freezer bag. “What’s up?”
“Mrs. Finch, you know, Jessica’s mother, just called.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know that Jessica is going to D.C. for the third-grade spelling bee?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you know that she just got a potbellied pig for her birthday?”
“Uh-huh. PeeGee WeeGee.”
“Well, Jessica would like to know if you can take care o
f PeeGee WeeGee while she’s at the spelling bee.”
Jessica Finch, Super Speller, was going to Washington, D.C., District of Cooties. She, Judy Moody, would be stuck in Frog Neck Un-lucky Lake, Virginia, being a great big pig sitter. Oink!
That little piggy went to D.C. This little piggy stayed home. . . . This little piggy went roar, roar, roar all the way home.
“I don’t know,” said Judy.
Dad wiped his hands on the towel. “Mom and I thought you’d jump at the chance to go to Washington, D.C.”
“Washington what? Who? Huh? Me?” Judy asked, looking from Mom to Dad.
Mom laughed. “Jessica doesn’t want to leave her pig behind, since she just got him and all, so they found a pet-friendly hotel. They’re taking PeeGee with them.”
“But they need a pig sitter when they’re at the spelling bee. So, Mom and I thought we might take you and Stink down a day early and do a little sightseeing first,” said Dad.
“For real?”
Holy Baloney! Judy Moody could not believe her this-little-piggy ears.
“So my bubble-gum fortune came true?” Stink bounced up and down on his toes. “I am going to take a trip soon!”
Bubble gum, schmubble gum. This could mean only one thing: Judy’s lucky penny still had some luck in it! Good thing she rescued it from Stink.
The Moodys were going to the District of (Not) Cooties.
“So . . . what do you think?” Mom asked. “What should I tell Mrs. Finch?”
“Tell her I said, ‘Judy Moody, Pig Sitter, at your service!’”
Road trip! The Moodys were on their way to Washington, D.C. Double Cool!
In the car, Judy could hardly sit still. In almost exactly one hour and twenty-seven minutes, she would be in the District of (not) Cooties!
Except it took more like four hours because of Stink.
1.) He had to stop to go to the bathroom.
2.) He had to stop to buy some Yubba Dubba bubble gum.
3.) He saw a giant statue of a giant’s head coming up out of the ground and — POP! — got bubble gum all over his face and hair.
4.) He had to stop to get de-gummed.
Judy Moody and the Bad Luck Charm Page 2