Three Burps and You're Out
Page 1
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2013 by Nancy Krulik. Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Aaron Blecha. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012025517
ISBN: 978-0-698-15942-6
For Ian, my homerun kid!—NK
For Ed and Al – Grandpas that are missed—AB
by Nancy Krulik
illustrated by Aaron Blecha
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About the Author
About the Illustrator
“Swing and a miss! Strike one!” Coach Trainer called out.
George Brown frowned as the baseball soared over the plate and right past his bat. How’d he miss that one? He’d kept his eyes on the ball and swung level—everything Coach Trainer had told him to do.
“Ha-ha!” Louie Farley laughed from the bench. “The only way you’re gonna hit that ball is with your big head!”
“Cut it out, Louie,” George’s friend Julianna said. “It’s only batting practice. We’re all on the same team. Remember?”
Louie rolled his eyes. “I’ve been trying to forget that all afternoon.”
“Good joke, Louie,” his friend Mike told him.
“You’re the king of comedy!” Louie’s other friend, Max, added.
George shook his head. Max and Mike were so wrong. That hadn’t been a good joke. It hadn’t even been a joke.
Coach Trainer picked up another ball and got ready to pitch it to George. “Let’s try this again,” he said.
“Okay,” George replied. “I’m ready.”
The coach let the baseball fly from the pitcher’s mound. George kept his eyes focused on the little white ball as it came closer. He got ready to swing. And then . . .
CRACK!
George hit the ball and sent it flying over Coach Trainer’s head.
“Yes!” George exclaimed.
“Awesome, dude!” George’s best friend, Alex, cheered.
“Good job,” Coach Trainer told him. “Hitting like that’ll bring the Edith B. Sugarman Elementary Sea Monkeys the championship trophy.”
George grinned. There was nothing his school team wanted more than to win the championship game against their archrivals, the Klockermeister Elementary Kangaroos. The Sea Monkeys had only lost one game all season. That gave them a record of 9–1. Which would have been great—if their only loss hadn’t been to the Klockermeister Kangaroos.
This time, though, George’s team was determined to beat those Kangaroos and win the championship. That was why they were practicing so hard on a Friday afternoon. The game was just one week away.
Coach Trainer walked to the dugout where the team was sitting during batting practice. “But before we can win anything, we have to work on some fielding skills,” he told them. “So everyone, take your spots. I’ll hit to you.”
The kids jumped off the bench and started running to their positions. Alex ran to right field. George’s other pal, Chris, headed over to the left. Julianna got on the pitcher’s mound. Mike went to first base, and Max headed to shortstop. Louie started to put on his catcher’s equipment. George was on his way to third base when suddenly Louie’s mom raced onto the field.
“Wait a minute!” Mrs. Farley shouted.
Everyone stopped moving. George hadn’t even noticed that Mrs. Farley had been there watching. Parents weren’t supposed to come to practices. That was the rule. But Louie’s mom didn’t think rules applied to the Farley family.
“I thought I told you Louie wasn’t going to be the catcher anymore,” Mrs. Farley said to Coach Trainer.
Coach Trainer shook his head. “You suggested that, but I thought . . .”
“I don’t like the way the mask covers my Loo Loo Poo’s face,” Mrs. Farley continued.
George cracked up. Loo Loo Poo. Man, that was classic.
“I think Louie would do better at third base,” Mrs. Farley told the coach. “That was one of the positions his brother, Sam, played two years ago. Which, I’ll point out, was the last time the Sugarman Sea Monkeys won a championship.”
Coach Trainer sighed. George could tell he was getting tired of fighting Louie’s mom. Not that George blamed him. Mrs. Farley always got what she wanted. So what was the point in fighting her?
“Okay. I’ll try Louie at third,” Coach Trainer told Mrs. Farley. He looked out in the field and waved to George. “Take over as catcher, George.”
“Yes, that will work fine,” Mrs. Farley said. She turned and walked back toward the bleachers.
Louie smiled smugly as he handed George the catcher’s mask and chest protector. “Coach Trainer is doing the right thing,” he said. “I’m a better player than you. And third base is a really important position.”
“They’re all important positions,” George said.
“But third base is the MOST important,” Louie told him. “I’m the last stop before home plate.”
“I’m going to be the one at home plate,” George reminded him. “And I have to be ready to catch every ball Julianna pitches. That means I’m going to be part of every play. You’re going to have to wait until a ball gets hit or is thrown to you.”
Louie stopped smiling. He obviously hadn’t thought of that.
“Okay, let’s get going,” Coach Trainer said. “George, are you ready?”
“Oh yeah!” George said as he crouched down behind the plate. Coach Trainer took a bat and stepped up to the plate. “Okay, Julianna! Pitch me a good one.”
Julianna eyed the batter’s box. George pointed four fingers at the ground. That was the signal for a curveball. Julianna nodded and let the ball fly.
Crack! Coach Trainer hit the ball solidly. It flew to the left.
“I got it! I got it!” Louie shouted. He reached his glove in the air. “I got it.”
> Plop. Louie didn’t have it. In fact, it flew right over his head and landed in the dirt.
“That’s okay, Louie,” Coach Trainer said. “Pick it up, and throw it home.”
Louie nodded. He grabbed the ball and threw it with all his might—right at George.
Bam! The ball smacked George right in the chest.
George gasped. It was a good thing he was wearing the thick chest protector. A throw like that could knock the burp right out of a guy. And that would have been awful. Because George knew better than anyone the kind of trouble a burp could cause—especially if it was a magical super burp!
It had all started on George’s first day at Edith B. Sugarman Elementary School. George’s family had moved—again. That meant George was the new kid—again. George’s dad was in the army, so his family moved around a lot. It seemed like George was always the new kid.
This time, though, George had promised himself that things were going to be different. He was turning over a new leaf. No more pranks. No more class clown. He wasn’t going to get into any trouble anymore, like he had at all his old schools.
At first, it really worked. George didn’t make jokes or funny faces in the middle of class. He raised his hand before answering questions. And he didn’t laugh behind his teacher’s back. That last part was really hard when you had a teacher like Mrs. Kelly, who did stuff like hula dance in the middle of the classroom.
But new George was also boring George. At the end of that first day, the other kids didn’t even seem to know he existed. It was as though he was invisible George.
That night, George’s parents took him out for dessert to cheer him up. While they were sitting outside at the ice cream parlor and George was finishing his root beer float, a shooting star flashed across the sky. George made a wish.
I want to make kids laugh—but not get into trouble.
Unfortunately, the star was gone before George could finish the wish. So only part of it came true—the first part.
A minute later, George had a funny feeling in his belly. First he thought it was because of the root beer float. It was like hundreds of tiny bubbles were bouncing around in there. The bubbles bounced up and down and all around. They ping-ponged their way into his chest and bing-bonged their way up into his throat. And then . . .
George let out a big burp. A huge burp. A SUPER burp!
The super burp was loud, and it was magic.
Suddenly George lost control of his arms and legs. It was like they had minds of their own. His hands grabbed straws and stuck them up his nose like a walrus. His feet jumped up on the table and started dancing the hokey pokey. Everyone at the ice cream parlor started laughing—except George’s parents, who were covered in ice cream from the sundaes he had knocked over.
That wasn’t the only time the super burp had burst its way out of George’s belly. There had been plenty of magic gas attacks since then. And every time the burp came, trouble followed. George never knew when a burp would strike or what it would make him do. Like dive-bomb headfirst into the principal’s lap during the school talent show. Or drop raw pizza dough on his head like a giant, gooey mask. Or dance around with an angry skunk—who wound up spraying George with stinky skunk junk.
George didn’t want to tell anyone about the super burp. It was hard enough being the new kid in town. But being the new kid who burped like that would just be too weird. So George kept his burping secret to himself.
At least, he did until Alex figured it out. Alex was smart enough to notice that George only acted weird after a mega burp burst out of him. Lucky for George, Alex had promised to keep George’s secret.
Still, George was worried someone else might figure it out one day. And that was why he was really glad that Louie’s hard throw hadn’t knocked any burps out of him. The longer the magical super burp stayed away, the better.
Quickly, George scooped up the ball. He reached over and tagged an imaginary batter at home plate.
“Good play, George,” Coach Trainer told him. Then he looked out into the field. “Next time, try not to throw so wildly, Louie. Control is important.”
Louie nodded at the coach. Then he glared at George.
George knew that look well. Louie had been glaring at him ever since he’d arrived in Beaver Brook. George wasn’t sure why Louie hated him so much. But he did.
George wasn’t too crazy about Louie, either. In fact, having Louie in his school was the worst thing about Beaver Brook. Well, almost. The super burp was worse than anything—even Louie.
“Hey, soldier, come on in and have some chow,” George’s dad greeted him as he walked into the house on Saturday afternoon.
Chow sounded really good to George. He’d been so busy with his Saturday morning job at Mr. Furstman’s pet shop that he’d completely forgotten to eat any of the snacks his mom had put into his backpack that morning.
“What are we having?” George asked his dad.
“Peanut butter–and–banana sandwiches,” his dad answered.
George grinned. He loved peanut butter–and–banana sandwiches. So did his dad. It was what they always ate when George’s mom was working at her craft store and the guys were left on their own.
“Come on into the mess hall,” George’s dad continued.
Mess hall was army talk for the place where people eat. George hurried in and took his spot at the table. “Mmmm . . . ,” he said as he took a huge bite of gooey peanut butter and banana on wheat bread.
Brrrriiinnnnggg! Just then the phone rang. George jumped up to answer it.
“Hurro?” he said into the receiver. Pieces of chewed-up bread and banana shot out of his lips. The peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“George?” Julianna asked. “Is that you?”
George swallowed hard. “Yeah. Sorry. My mouth was full. What’s up?”
“Do you feel like going to see the Beaver Brook Beavers play tonight? I have an extra ticket.”
George couldn’t believe his ears. Beaver Brook’s minor-league team was amazing. They’d only lost one of their last ten games!
“Would I?” George gasped. “You bet!”
“Awesome,” Julianna continued. “My uncle gave me four tickets. Alex and Chris are coming, too. We can pick up some great pointers watching the Beavers.”
“Definitely,” George said. His stomach grumbled. “We can pick up some hot dogs and popcorn, too!”
“Yep!” Julianna said with a laugh. “See you tonight!”
“The seats are all the way at the top,” Julianna said as she, Alex, Chris, and George entered the stadium. Julianna’s mom had dropped them off and was going to pick them up after the game. “But they’re right behind home plate. So we can see the whole field.”
“And anything we can’t see, we can catch on the JumboTron.” George pointed to the giant screen high above the field.
“Weirdo warning! There’s a weirdo in the ballpark!”
Suddenly George heard Louie shouting behind him. He turned around. Louie and his older brother, Sam, were sitting in box seats just two rows from the field.
“Where are you guys going?” Louie asked George and his friends.
“To our seats.” Alex pointed up toward the top of the stadium.
“Oh, you’re in the nosebleed section,” Louie said with a laugh.
Nosebleed section. George pictured a bunch of people with bloody noses all sitting together and watching the game as rivers of slimy red blood flowed down onto Louie and his brother. Cool!
“See ya later, Louie,” Julianna said as she climbed the stairs. George, Alex, and Chris followed her. Well, George and Alex did, anyway. Chris was so busy drawing something on his sketch pad that he turned the wrong way.
Bam! Chris slammed right into a pole. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, without even bothering to look up from his drawing.
“What’s with Chris?” George asked Alex.
“He’s sketching some ideas for his art-show project,” Alex explained.
George watched as Chris tripped going up the stairs.
“He gets this way every year before the art show,” Julianna said. “The show is this Thursday. He’s only going to get worse.”
Chris bumped into the knee of a huge guy sitting in an aisle seat. The guy’s soda spilled onto his Beaver Brook Beavers T-shirt.
“Hey, watch where you’re going, kid,” the guy said, looking down at the yucky brown soda stain that was spreading across the front of his shirt.
“Sorry,” Chris mumbled as he kept drawing and walking.
George shook his head. Chris was going to get worse? How was that even possible?
“Yes!” Alex exclaimed a few minutes later as the kids took their seats and waited for the game to begin. He reached under his chair and pulled up a big glob of gray-green gum. “This nosebleed section is a gold mine for already been chewed gum. This is the fourth piece I’ve found.”
“Awesome,” George said. “You’re four pieces closer to getting into the Schminess Book of World Records for the world’s biggest ABC gum ball.” He pulled a piece of gum from his mouth and handed it to Alex. “Take this one, too. The flavor’s all gone, anyway.”
“Wow! Thanks,” Alex said, sticking the gum onto the giant ABC gum ball he carried around in his backpack.
“Peanuts! Popcorn! Get your snacks here!”
George looked up as a guy in a red-and-white-striped jacket and Beavers baseball cap walked down the aisle with a tray of snacks. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted, waving his hand. “I’ll have a popcorn!” The popcorn vendor raced over. He took George’s money and handed him a red-and-white-striped box.
Julianna shot George a look. “Remember why we’re here,” she said. “We’re trying to pick up pointers that will make us better players. Don’t you want to win that championship?”
“Yeah, but no one says I can’t eat popcorn while I’m watching.” George tossed piece of a popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth.