“Hold on. Wait. I almost have him. Ha, ha!” said Judy. “Gotcha, you little newt-brain!”
“He is not a newt-brain,” said Stink. “And . . . you’re scaring him.”
“He sure is slippery,” said Judy. “You should call him Squirmy.”
Just then, Squirmy squirmed right out of Judy’s hand, slipped into the sink, and went SLOOP! right down the drain.
“Newton!” cried Stink. “You LOST him!” he yelled at Judy.
“Don’t worry, Stink,” said Judy. “He’s probably just swimming around down there under the sink.” Judy peered down the drain.
“Is he there?” asked Stink. “Do you see him?”
“I can’t see,” said Judy. “It’s dark. . . . I need a flashlight or something. No. Wait. Let me turn the light on.”
Judy flicked the switch over the sink. GRRRRRRR! A loud, grinding-up sound made them both jump back.
“STOP!” yelled Stink.
Judy turned off the switch. “Oops. Wrong switch.”
“You killed Newton!” cried Stink. “The state amphibian of New Hampshire. My class pet. My homework!”
Stink ran to his room. He threw himself facedown on the bed.
Newton was gone. Gone, goner, gonest. All that was left of Stink’s class pet was his not-boring newt skin.
Stink gave the newt skin a place of honor on his desk. Right next to his gold Sacagawea dollar, his state quarters, and his French cootie catcher.
The newt skin just sat there. Lonely. Empty. Dead.
Deader than a doorknob.
Stink decided to do his homework. Homework always made him feel better.
Stink drew a still life of the newt skin for art class. He read a poem called “Who Has Seen the Wind?” He wrote one called “Who Has Seen the Newt?” and he used all his homework phrases in sentences.
Taking care of a newt is easier said than done.
I hope Newton does not get cold feet out on the river.
If your class pet goes down the drain, go back to the drawing board.
Judy came up to his room. “I’m sorry, Stink,” she said. “I’m super-duper sorry. But I bet Newton slipped right down the pipes and on down to the river before I even flipped the switch.”
Stink put down his pencil. “You think?”
“Newton is having the time of his life. Think of it like Stuart Little. He’s probably sailing down the river right now on a raft, having a big, fat, newt adventure.”
“What am I going to tell Mrs. Dempster? And my class?”
“They’ll understand. It’s all part of the life cycle, Stink.”
“The garbage disposal is NOT part of the life cycle!” said Stink.
Stink finished his homework. He wrote the last entry in his journal.
Sunday 5:21 NEWTON GOES DOWN THE DRAIN
On Monday morning, when Stink told Mrs. D. about the G.D.I. (Garbage Disposal Incident), she said, “Let’s just tell the class Newton ran away. It’ll be our little secret.” She wasn’t even mad. She told Stink she was going back to New Hampshire for Presidents’ Day weekend, and she could get another newt.
Class 2D wrote stories about the adventures they thought Newton was having in the big, wide world. Webster wrote about Newton joining a baseball team called the Newt York Yankees. Sophie of the Elves wrote about a magic kingdom where Princess Salamandra was under an evil spell and a newt in shining armor came to rescue her. And Stink wrote about Newton sailing down the river on a raft to Legoland and riding the roller coaster.
The stories made everybody feel much better. Especially Stink. Mrs. D. even told Stink he could keep Newton’s skin. As in, for real. For good. Forever.
Mrs. Dempster talked about Presidents’ Day for the rest of the week. Stink’s class made cotton-ball portraits of George Washington. They made milk-carton-and-pretzel-stick log cabins in honor of Abraham Lincoln. Everybody said how tall Abe was. How tall his hat was. Tall, tall, tall. They acted like Abraham Lincoln was a giant.
“What’s so great about living in a log cabin?” Stink asked Webster.
“Lincoln carved his math problems on the walls, right in the logs.”
“He should have gotten in trouble for writing on the walls!” Stink said.
All week, nobody said a word about Stink’s favorite president, James Madison. Not one peep. James Madison had a birthday, too. March 16.
Mrs. Dempster told the class, “Okay, 2D. Homework is on the board.”
“I know! I know!” said Calvin. “Presidents’ Day means you see flags.”
“It means we don’t have school on Monday,” said Webster.
“It means you can buy stuff on sale, because presidents are on money,” said Heather S.
“Let’s not give away all our ideas,” said Mrs. D. “I want everybody to write one page about what Presidents’ Day means to you.”
“Can we draw something, too?” asked Lucy.
“Can we write a poem?” asked Sophie of the Elves.
“Can we dress up?” asked Stink.
“Yes, yes, and yes,” his teacher said. “But I still want my one page.”
Stink took out his Big Head book of presidents. He flipped to the best president ever. President number four, James Madison.
Stink and James Madison were a lot alike. James Madison was from Virginia. Stink was from Virginia. James Madison had the name James. Stink had the name James! James Madison wore pants. Stink wore pants! Same-same!
More people should know about James Madison. They should have a statue of James Madison in the park. Or carve his head on the side of Mt. Trashmore. They should sing about him in the state song.
That gave Stink an idea. A great big Presidents’ Day idea.
All the way home from school, Stink made up words for the state song. He sang it to the tune of Frère Jacques. He sang it for Mom. He sang it for Dad.
“Ja-ames Mad-i-son
Ja-ames Mad-i-son
Num-ber four, num-ber four
Changed his hair to white
Wrote the Bill of Rights
Ding, dang, dong
We love you.”
“That’s great!” said Mom. “I don’t think we have a Virginia state song.”
“There’s a state bird. And a state flower,” said Dad.
“And a Virginia state quarter,” said Judy.
State quarter! Of course! Lincoln was on a penny. Washington was on a dollar. James Madison should be on the Virginia state quarter!
“Can I use your smelly markers?” Stink asked Judy.
“No,” said Judy. “You never put the caps back on.”
“Newton,” said Stink. “N-E-W-T-O-N. Poor little newt. GRRRRRRR.” Stink made a garbage disposal noise.
“Oh, go ahead,” said Judy. “But that’s IT. I’m not going to let you keep pulling a NEWTON on me!”
Stink sniffed a grape marker. He sniffed a blueberry marker. He sniffed a black licorice marker. Yum, yum!
He drew an outline of James Madison’s head. On either side of it, he drew a quill pen and a number 4. Below it he wrote E Pluribus Constitution.
Then he wrote a letter to the governor.
“Mom! Stink’s doing homework again!” Judy said.
“You can’t tell on me for doing homework,” said Stink.
“Homework, schmome-work. Let’s do something good.”
“My homework’s good.”
“What’s your homework?” asked Mom.
“Presidents’ Day.”
“You’re not dressing up as a human flag again, are you?” asked Judy.
“No. I have to tell what Presidents’ Day means to me.”
“Stink, everybody knows what Presidents’ Day means. Presidents’ Day means your teacher reads you a book about George Washington’s teeth and Abraham Lincoln’s beard. Presidents’ Day means you make stuff out of Popsicle sticks, like a log cabin or a flag.”
“Nuh-uh,” said Stink.
“Presidents’ Day means you draw three circles
. One for Lincoln, one for Washington, and one in the middle for the stuff that’s the same about both.”
“It’s called a Venn diagram,” Mom said.
“My homework is what it means to me. Not what it means to Mr. Venn.”
“Good for you,” Mom said. “What does Presidents’ Day mean to you?”
“Two words,” said Stink.
“Washington and Lincoln,” said Judy.
“James Madison,” said Stink.
Stink got out a bag of cotton balls. Stink made an old-timey James Madison wig. Judy helped him glue cotton balls to her old Brownie cap.
“Pass the glue,” said Stink. “Quit hogging.”
“Not so much!” said Judy. Stink didn’t listen. He just kept gluing more cotton balls. “Let’s see how it looks,” said Stink.
“It has to dry first, or all the cotton balls will fall off,” Judy told him.
“Let’s dry it in the dryer, then,” Stink said.
“Genius!” said Judy.
Stink put the wig in the dryer. “Press START,” said Stink. “I can’t reach.”
Judy pressed the fluff-and-tumble button. They waited. Ga-lump, ga-lump. They waited some more. The buzzer went off. “Voilà!” said Judy, pulling out the wig.
“YIPES!” yelled Stink. “I said press START. Not SHRINK. Now it looks like . . . an elf wig. An ant wig.”
“YOU put it in the dryer,” said Judy.
“YOU pressed the button,” said Stink.
“Never mind. We can put powder in your hair. Like James Madison.”
“You mean I can put powder in my hair,” said Stink. “Just to make sure it doesn’t turn orange or anything.”
“BOR-ing,” said Judy.
On Friday, Webster read his report aloud first. It was about making red, white, and blue potholders at his grandpa’s nursing home on Presidents’ Day.
“Presidents’ Day means to me that we should have a girl president,” said Sophie of the Elves. “Since we don’t, I wrote a poem about a First Lady. Stink told me about her, and I found out more. Her name is Dolley Madison.”
Dolley Madison, first to be called First Lady.
On a fifteen-cent stamp.
Liked to dance and fish and cook and ride horses.
Looked like a queen.
Easter egg hunt, started it.
Yum! Cupcakes are named for her.
Married James Madison.
Always won foot races.
Died in 1849.
Ice cream always dessert at the White House.
Saved a painting of George Washington from a fire.
Ostrich feathers in her hats.
Nice lady!
Last of all was Stink. He wore black. He pinned a number 4 to his shirt. He put white powder all over his hair.
“Hey! Your real name is James, too,” said Webster.
“Exactly.” Stink grinned. He finished reading his report.
It was Not-James-Madison-Day Monday. No school. Judy poked her head into Stink’s room. “Stink, I’m supposed to be nice to you.”
“Did Mom say?”
“Yep.”
“Because of the newt?”
“Yep. And I’m supposed to make you feel taller or something. So, Stinkerbell, how about a birthday party?”
“A birthday party? For who?”
“Come downstairs and see.”
Stink raced down the steps, two at a time.
Mom brought out twenty cupcakes on a big plate. They each had a letter on them, and all together, they spelled HAPPY JAMES MADISON DAY.
Dad lit the candles.
Everybody sang the James Madison State Song. Stink blew out all twenty candles. He ate an M, an A, and half of a D. Two and a half cupcakes!
“Presents!” said Judy.
“Presents? It’s not even anybody’s real birthday,” said Stink.
“It’s James Madison’s un-birthday,” said Judy.
“Dad and I made you a card,” said Mom. “A Presidents’ Day card.”
“It was kind of short notice,” said Dad. “So we printed some stuff off the Internet.” Stink opened the card. It had pictures of short people.
At the bottom of the card, Mom and Dad had printed in big letters:
YOU’RE ONLY AS SHORT AS YOU FEEL!
“I found the famous Wrestler Guy,” said Judy.
“Thanks!” said Stink.
“Now mine,” Judy said. Stink ripped it open. “It’s a fun mirror!” Judy told him. “From Rocky’s old magic kit. I made it into a presidents mirror. One side is the James Madison side and the other is the Abe Lincoln side.”
Stink looked at himself in the James Madison side of the mirror. He looked super-shrimpy, and wide as a warthog. Everybody cracked up.
“Try the other side!” said Judy. Now Stink looked skinny as a pencil and tall as Abe Lincoln.
“UN-Presidents’ Day is better than Presidents’ Day anytime,” said Stink. “WOW backward!”
“W-O-W backward is wow, too,” said Judy.
“Exactly,” said Stink.
“Thanks, you guys,” said Stink. “For all the cupcakes and presents and stuff.”
“The James Madison party was Judy’s idea,” said Dad.
“Yeah. Are you feeling any taller yet?” Judy asked.
“Maybe a little. Especially when I look in the Abe Lincoln mirror!”
“You know, you weren’t always short,” said Dad.
“Really?” asked Stink.
“Really?” asked Judy.
“You weren’t short when you were a baby,” said Mom. “You were long. Twenty-two inches long.”
“What about me?” asked Judy.
“You were only about nineteen inches,” said Dad.
“HA!” said Stink. “You mean I was taller than Judy when I was born?”
“I guess you could say that,” said Mom.
“HA, HA!” Stink elbowed Judy. “Shorty Pants!”
“ROAR!” said Judy.
“More cupcakes, anyone?” Mom asked. “Oops. Almost forgot. An envelope came for you, Stink. Special delivery. Looks like it’s from the governor.” Mom handed Stink the envelope.
“Open it! Read it out loud!” said Judy.
Stink read the letter.
“A five-thousand-dollar bill!” said Stink. “Double, triple, quadruple cool!”
The medal was a copper-colored coin in a plastic case. On one side it said James Madison, President of the United States, 1809. On the other, it had a picture of two hands shaking in friendship.
Stink passed around his brand-spanking-new James Madison friendship coin for everybody to see. While his family “oohed” and “aahed,” Stink picked up the presidents mirror. He turned it to the tall side and looked at his reflection.
Everybody says growing takes time, thought Stink. It’s all part of the life cycle. One day, it’s going to happen to me. Me! Mr. James Moody!
A Parents’ Choice Recommended Title
“With child-savvy humor and energy, McDonald explores Stink’s frustrations.” — Child
“A welcome arrival for this age group.” — Chicago Tribune
“Judy Moody lovers (and their little brothers) will adore her younger brother, Stink.” — Seattle Times
“The narrative is fun and laced with puns . . . and it’s peppered with black-and-white illustrations, including comics reflecting Stink’s triumphant fantasies.” — Booklist
“McDonald’s breezy narrative and likable characters will keep Judy’s followers amply amused and recruit new fans.” — Publishers Weekly
“Delightful full-page and spot-art cartoons and playful language in large type bring the child’s adventures to life. ‘Things are definitely looking up, up, UP’ with this bright addition to beginning chapter-book collections.”
— School Library Journal
“Stink definitely measures up to his memorable sister.” — Kirkus Reviews
“McDonald cleverly pits Stink’s earnest and sligh
tly geeky personality against his sister’s more adamant one, and she introduces some characters we hope to see more of.”
— Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
Stink took one lick. Then another. Then another. The giant jawbreaker was way too big to fit into his mouth.
Slurp. He licked that jawbreaker all the way home.
Sloop. He licked it all the way up to his room.
Slop. He licked it while he fed Toady one-handed. He licked it while he played with his president baseball cards (including James Madison, thanks to Judy). He licked it while he did his homework one-handed.
He even licked it while he set the table for dinner. One-handed, of course.
Pretty soon his lips were green and his tongue was blue and his hands were as sticky as gum on a sneaker bottom.
“Hey,” Judy asked at dinner. “Why is there a big fat sticky blue fingerprint on my plate?”
“Oops,” said Stink, licking off his fingers. “Finger-lickin’ good!”
“Stink’s eating a jawbreaker for dinner!” said Judy, pointing.
“Stink, put that jawbreaker down and eat some real food,” said Dad. “Here. Have some macaroni.”
“This is real food,” said Stink. “It contains vitamins A and C and calcium. No lie.”
“And dextrose, sucrose, fructose, and other stuff that makes you comatose,” said Judy.
“It’s NOT going to make me comb my toes,” said Stink.
“And don’t forget wax,” said Judy.
“Macaroni,” said Mom. “You heard Dad. And green beans.”
“But it didn’t break my jaw yet,” said Stink. “It didn’t even stretch my mouth one bit.”
“You already have a big mouth,” said Judy.
“Hardee-har-har,” said Stink. “Well, it didn’t set my tongue on fire yet or make my cheeks feel like a chipmunk, either.”
“It may not break your jaw,” said Judy, “but all your teeth are going to fall out. For sure and absolute positive. Did you know Queen Elizabeth ate so many candies from her pockets that her teeth turned black? No lie!”
Stink: The Incredible Shrinking Kid Page 2