“Stop, Judy. It’s okay — STOP!” Mom said.
One final blast of the squirt gun hit Aunt Opal, right between the eyes.
“Oops.”
Aunt Opal shook her long red hair and laughed. “Judy!” Judy was instantly squished into a big bear hug.
“You’ve been here five minutes, Opal, and already the house is on fire!” said Dad, opening a window. Mom flapped a dishcloth over the black casserole.
“Let me look at you,” Aunt Opal said to Judy. “How old are you now? Twelve?”
“Nine. And some quarters.”
Judy eyed her aunt up and down, from her hippie shirt to her bright blue boots to her arms jangling with bangles and bracelets. “Wow. You’ve got more bracelets than Chloe, my math tutor, and she’s in COLLEGE!”
Opal twisted a braided bracelet off her wrist and handed it to Judy. “Here you go. This one’s made from yak hair.”
“RARE!” said Judy.
“I bought it from a monkey in Nepal for five hundred rupees. I think I got ripped off!” Opal rummaged through a large bag. “Here’s your REAL present.” She handed a small box to Judy and a book to Stink.
“For me? Awesome!” said Stink.
Judy flipped open the box. Inside was the mother of all mood rings — a silver snake that curled around a glowing mood crystal.
“A mood ring! How did you know?”
Opal winked. Judy slipped the ring on her finger. It turned bright blue. “Blue is for Happy, Glad,” said Judy.
Stink opened his book. “So You Want to Catch Bigfoot? Man, oh man, oh man, oh MANNN!”
“I think you’re a hit, Ope,” said Dad, putting an arm around her shoulder.
“I hate to interrupt, but what are we going to do for dinner?” Mom asked.
Judy and Stink didn’t miss a beat. “Pizza! Pizza!”
Before you could say pepperoni, Judy and Stink were racing past China (Speed Bump #1) and past Japan (Speed Bump #2) on their way to Gino’s Pizza.
“Let’s go to Fur and Fangs while we wait,” Stink said. “I gotta show Zeke, from my Bigfoot club, the new book. And prove to YOU that Bigfoot exists.”
“Righhht.” Judy rolled her eyes as Stink ran next door into Fur & Fangs. He rushed up to a tall, skinny teenager with hair in his eyes, waving his book.
“Hey, Zeke! Check this out!”
Zeke blew hair out of his eyes and let out a whistle. “Whoa. Sweet. It’s a first edition!” said Zeke, admiring the book.
Stink smiled proudly. “This is Judy. My sister. She doesn’t believe in Bigfoot. Can you believe that?”
“Seriously?”
“Mega-total super-seriously,” said Judy.
“Show her, Zeke. Show her the proof!”
“Do you think she can handle the Cave?” Zeke asked. Stink nodded.
“Follow me,” Zeke told Judy. He headed to the back of the store, past a red macaw on a perch. “Bigfoot lives! Bigfoot lives!” said the macaw.
Judy jumped, then quickly followed Zeke and Stink through a beaded curtain, past piles of cages, pet food, and pet supplies. Zeke’s head bumped a BIGFOOT BELIEVERS sign as he ducked into a large “cave” made of old boxes and covered with spray-painted dog-food bags.
“What is this, a clubhouse for bats?” Judy asked.
“Welcome to the headquarters of the Bigfoot Believers Association!”
“Is this cool, or WHAT?” Stink said proudly.
Zeke pointed to a map of Virginia studded with pushpins. “These are all sightings of Bigfoot around here. We’ve been tracking his every move, and he is DEFINITELY headed our way.”
Stink snatched up a clump of gray hair lying on the table. “Holy Pluto! Is this what I think it is? As in Bigfoot hair?”
“Nah. Chinchilla,” Zeke said, laughing. “I had to brush one out this morning. Never mind that. Let’s get to the real proof. I keep it in cold storage.” Zeke stepped over to a fridge in the corner.
“Wait. . . . Did you say cold storage?” Judy asked. “Do you by any chance know a Mr. Todd?”
“Nope. Never heard of him.” Zeke opened the fridge. Very carefully, he took a photo out of a plastic pouch. “Here you go. A rare photo of Bigfoot. Look, but don’t touch.” He held the blurry black-and-white photo out to Judy.
Judy snorted. “Are you kidding? That’s just some guy in a fuzzy sweater! He doesn’t even have big feet!”
“You’re cracked!” said Stink. “They gotta be size fifty-nine at least!”
Zeke slipped the photo back into the pouch. “If you need more proof, come to one of our meetings. Tuesdays at six.”
Judy shook her head. “I’m busy on Tuesdays. From now till forever. C’mon, Stink. Pizza time.” Judy put her arm around Stink, dragging him out.
“Catch ya later, little dude,” Zeke called after him.
Stink turned and gave Zeke a happy thumbs-up.
The Moodys ate pizza at the picnic table on their back deck, under twinkly white lights and paper lanterns that Opal had strung up everywhere.
“Nothing left but crusts,” said Stink.
“And some tuna fish for Mouse,” said Judy.
“Tuna-fish pizza is the best!” said Stink.
“I hope you saved room for dessert!” Opal called.
Mom and Dad eyed each other. “Stink, it’s rude to read at the table,” Mom said.
“But check this out. Page thirteen. Bigfoot’s bed!” Stink held up his book.
Aunt Opal came back outside, carrying a platter of hot-dog chunks in one hand and a bowl of bubbly, burping, orange-colored glop in the other.
“Ta-da!” said Aunt Opal.
“What is it?” Judy and Stink asked at the same time.
“Tangerine fondue!” said Opal.
“None for us, thanks!” said Dad. “We have to finish packing.”
“Hot dogs for dessert?” Judy asked, her mouth hanging open.
“It looks like Bigfoot barf,” said Stink. Judy cracked up.
Opal stabbed a chunk of hot dog with a fork, dipped it in the glop, and popped it in her mouth. “Mmmm. I used to make this for your dad when we were kids.”
Stink peered into the bowl. “Are those Froot Loops?”
“Uh-huh. Dig in, guys!”
“You first,” Judy told her brother.
“But it’s so . . . oogley-boogley!”
“This? This is nothing. When I was in Bali, I ate grilled cockroaches.”
“GROSSSSS!” Judy and Stink yelled at the same time.
“Tell you what: if you BOTH take a bite, we can all be in the same club — the ‘I Ate Something Gross’ Club.”
Stink and Judy look at each other, bug-eyed. “Just one bite? And we’re in the Gross Grub Club?” Stink asked. “For real?”
“For real.”
“Pass the hot dogs!” Judy said, grinning.
At bedtime, Aunt Opal sat next to Judy on the top bunk, painting Judy’s toenails in a rainbow of colors. “So then, after the Peace Corps, I trekked across the Sahara and after that I moved to Bali. Where I lived until about a month ago.” Aunt Opal waved a fancy fan to dry Judy’s toes.
“MEGA-cool! Is that where belly dancing’s from?”
“Bah-li, not belly.” She laughed. “It’s an island.” Judy wiggled her toes. “So what’s up for summer?”Aunt Opal asked. “Any exciting adventures I should know about?”
Judy twirled the new mood ring on her finger. “Well, I was gonna have the best summer ever, but my friends wrecked it.”
Opal climbed under the covers of the bottom bunk. “I hate when that happens.”
“Seriously! We were going to do all these way-exciting dares and get thrill points. But Rocky’s at circus camp and Amy went to Borneo.”
Opal turned off the light. Moonlight flooded the room. Judy snuggled down in bed with Mouse on her stomach.
“I LOVE dares,” Opal said between yawns. “In Kenya, someone once dared me to ride in an ostrich race.”
“Did you win?”
“
My ostrich won — without me! I fell off at the starting line,” Opal said sleepily.
“You know what, Aunt Opal? You just gave me an idea.”
Konkkk-shu. A light snore drifted up from the bottom bunk.
“I mean, what if we STILL did the dare chart, but made it into a race? Me, Rocky, Amy, and Frank?”
Konkkk-shu. More snores.
“We could each do our own dares and keep track of our points! First one to get to a hundred wi —”
KONKKKK-SHUUU!
Judy hung her head over the side of the bed. “Geez, Mouse, Aunt Opal snores louder than a blender.”
Just then, Judy leaned over too far and fell off the bed. “Aghhhhhh!” She knocked into her desk chair, which tipped over a floor lamp, which crashed into a tower of all fifty-six classic Nancy Drews.
Stink came running. “What’s going on?”
“Shhhhh! You’ll wake Aunt Opal!”
They tiptoed over to the bottom bunk. Opal was sleeping like a baby. Judy gently pulled up her blanket.
“She slept through that?” Stink whispered. “Weird.”
“Okay. Back to bed, Stink.”
“Hey, I was just reading. . . . Did you know that Bigfoot is scared of just two things?”
“Enough already with the Big Feet!” Judy whispered as she pushed him out the door.
“But don’t you want to know what they are? Guinea pigs and —
“— car horns!” he whispered as Judy shut the door on him.
She grabbed her computer and quietly tucked into the closet, plopping down on a heap of dirty laundry.
Dear Amy and Rocky (you too, Frank!),
UBER-RARE IDEA! Let’s do a dare race, starting right NOW! First one to get 100 points WINS! What do you say?
Judy
Judy waited. She peeled off a Band-Aid. She picked at a scab, hoping she could save it for her scab collection.
Ding! An e-mail. From Rocky!
A dare race? I am in. Check out what I did today!
Judy clicked on a photo of Rocky in a leotard, walking on a tightrope high up in the air, holding a long pole.
Ten thrill points, for sure, don’tcha think? Gotta get some ZZZ’s now — tomorrow is sword swallowing! Byeeeeee . . .
“Just you wait, Rocky Zang,” Judy whispered. “Just. You. Wait.”
It was time. Time to say good-bye to Mom and Dad. The cab waited at the curb while everybody hugged a million and one times.
“Can you bring us back some California bubblegum?” Judy asked.
Dad ruffled Judy’s hair. “Better yet — how about I chew some and stick it on the official Wall of Gum, in your honor?
“RARE! Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” Judy’s parents climbed into the cab.
“Can we have candy for breakfast?” Stink asked.
“No,” Mom said. “Bye! Be good!”
Judy and Stink ran after the cab. “Call us every day, okay?”
“Can we have candy for lunch?”
“Bye! Byebyebyebyebye!”
The cab was gone. Stink’s lip started to tremble. Aunt Opal put an arm around him.
Just then, Frank came running up the sidewalk. “Is it time?”
“It’s time,” said Judy. “Synchronize watches. As of 2:12 p.m., Thursday, July seventh, the thrill race is ON.”
Frank bounced with excitement. “So what’s the first dare?”
Judy waved the picture of Rocky on a tightrope in Frank’s face. “This.”
“We’re going to dress in leotards?”
Judy grabbed the paper back. “NO. Don’t you see? He’s walking on a rope. A TIGHTrope? Above the ground? It’s DEATH-DEFYING!”
“Ohhhhhhh . . . yeahhhhh!”
In no time, Judy and Frank stretched a thick rope from a large tree in the backyard over the creek to a tree in the woods. Judy tied it tight and gave it one more twang just to make sure. Perfecto!
Just then they heard a bang. Then a clatter, thunk, and thud. Stink. He emptied a wheelbarrow load of boards by the base of the tree.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Judy asked.
“I’m building a trap for Bigfoot!” said Stink. “I’m gonna lure him here with peanut butter. Bigfoot LOVES peanut butter — page fourteen of my book — then boom! A net will fall out of the tree and land on his head!”
“Not out of this tree. It’s mine. I called it.”
“You can’t ‘call’ a tree,” Stink said.
“Oh, yeah? Watch me. Mine.” Judy tapped the tree, smiling smugly.
Stink tapped the tree back. “Mine.”
“MINE!” Judy said, louder.
“MINE!” Stink wrapped his arms around the tree.
Judy wrapped her arms around Stink and tried to pry him off. “MINE!”
Frank tried to pry them both off. “Stop it, you guys!”
Tingalinga, ding! Ding! Ding! “Ice-cream truck!” yelled Stink.
Everyone tumbled to the ground. Stink raced out to the street. “I scream, you scream, we all scream for Old King Kold ice cream. . . .”
Judy bear-hugged the tree. “Yay! It’s mine!”
Frank took off after Stink. “Frank, where are you going?” Judy called.
“To get ice cream!”
“But now’s our chance. Before Stink gets back! C’mon! What’s more important? Ice cream or thrill points?”
“Oh, all right.”
Judy stuck out her bare foot, and Frank cupped his hands. She put her other foot on the rope, grabbed the tree trunk, and . . .
“TA-DA!” said Judy. “Now the high-flying, death-defying Judy-a-Rini will cross, um, Niagara Falls! One slip, and she’ll fall to her doom!”
Arms outstretched, Judy inched across the rope. “Check it out! I’m doing it. I’m crossing the Crashing Cataracts of Niagara!” She wibble-wobbled.
“Whoaaaa!” yelled Frank.
“Don’t worry! The great Judy-a-Rini will not fall — aggh!”
Frank had stepped onto the rope. “Get off, Frank! One. At. A. Time!”
Tingalinga, ding! Ding! Ding! “Hurry up! I wanna get ice cream!”
Judy picked up her pace. “Ten thrill points, if only I can finish —”
Just then, the rope jerked super hard. “Mosquitoes! Incoming!” yelled Frank.
Judy’s arms windmilled wildly as Frank flailed at the air around his head. “Stop WOBBLING me!”
“I can’t help it! There’s a mosquito on my — ahhhhhh!”
Splash! Crash! Judy and Frank sat up, spitting water. Judy was dripping in mud and plastered with wet leaves. Frank pulled a salamander out of his hair.
Stink waved a large ice cream in front of them. “Ha, ha, you missed it!”
Frank glared at Judy. “When we go to ride the Scream Monster, I am getting TEN ice creams!”
On Saturday, Judy was waiting for Frank. His older sister, Maddy, was going to take them to Scaredevil Island. Pieces of colorful old dishes, plates, bowls, and cups were spread all over the back deck. She watched Aunt Opal smash an old teapot.
“Hey, can I smash something? I usually get in trouble when I break stuff! What are you making, anyway?”
“I’m not sure yet!”
HONK! HONK! BEEEEP! Frank and Maddy pulled up in a blue MINI Cooper with a racing stripe. “Hey, Judy!” Frank’s sister called. “Ready to rock and roller coaster?”
“Scream MONSTERRRRRRR!” yelled Judy. “I hate to smash and run, but . . . bye, Aunt Opal.”
“Scream a little scream for me!” Opal waved as Judy ran to the car.
Hopping inside, Judy got a mouthful of something poofy and pink. Pff! “What’s with the clouds of pink stuff?” she asked, blowing it away from her face.
“It’s my prom dress,” said Maddy. “I have to take it to the cleaner’s.” Judy wrestled the dress, pushing it to one side.
“No way would I be caught dead looking like a gigunda poof of pink cotton candy,” said Judy.
“Speaking of cotton
candy,” said Frank, “what are we gonna eat first?”
“FIRST we go on the Tilt-a-Whirl,” said Judy.
“AFTER we get ice cream, right?” said Frank.
“Right. And snow cones.”
“And corn dogs. And gobs of gum.”
“RARE! We’ll be ready for the Scream Monster, for sure.”
The car drove past the Frog Neck Lake Swim Club. Judy and Frank snapped their heads around. “STOP!” they both shouted.
Maddy slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Frank asked.
“MR. TODD!” they said at the exact same time. “Cold water!”
Judy and Frank zoomed inside. They searched in the pool, around the pool, under the lifeguard, at the food window, even inside the Little Loo Loo. P.U.!
Frank’s head popped up from inside a giant bin of pool noodles.
“Frog! I was SURE he’d be in here.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him. We have ALLLLL summer.”
Judy and Frank craned their necks, staring up, up, up at the twisting, turning roller coaster. Screeches and screams filled the air.
“Super-cali-fragi-listic-expi-thrill-a-delic!” said Judy.
Frank’s blue tongue hung out. He was holding two double-scoop blue-raspberry ice-cream cones in one hand and a purple snow cone in the other. Sticking out of his back pockets were cotton candy and a corn-dog-on-a-stick. “Geez LOUISE! How many thrill points is that?” said Frank.
“Ten. Plus bonus points for NO HANDS!”
The ride glided to a stop. People staggered out of their seats, eyes glazed, hair gone haywire. Judy handed twelve tickets to a guy with a Mohawk haircut and a T-shirt that said SURRENDER TO THE SCREAM.
“No food on the ride, kid,” said Mohawk Man, pointing to a trash basket.
“What? No way am I throwing this stuff out!”
“Then step outta line, mister.”
Frank stepped out of the line. “Frank! We’ve been waiting for an hour!” said Judy, dragging him back. “Surrender the snow cone!”
“Are you cracked?” Frank took a giant bite and crunched on the ice.
“Seriously! We gotta earn thrill points! So far we have a big fat ZERO.”
Judy Moody and the NOT Bummer Summer Page 2