Judy Moody

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Judy Moody Page 2

by Megan McDonald


  It was Labor Day, a no-school day. Judy looked up from her Me collage on the dining-room table.

  “We need a new pet,” Judy announced to her family.

  “A new pet? What’s wrong with Mouse?” asked Mom. Mouse opened one eye.

  “I have to pick MY FAVORITE PET. How can I pick my favorite when I only have one?”

  “Pick Mouse,” said Mom.

  “Mouse is so old, and she’s afraid of everything. Mouse is a lump that purrs.”

  “You’re NOT thinking of a dog, I hope,” said Dad. Mouse jumped off the chair and stretched.

  “Mouse would definitely not like that,” said Judy.

  “How about a goldfish?” asked Stink. Mouse rubbed up against Judy’s leg.

  “Mouse would like that too much,” Judy said. “I was thinking of a two-toed sloth.”

  “Right,” said Stink.

  “They’re neat,” said Judy. She showed Stink its picture in her rain forest magazine. “See? They hang upside down all day. They even sleep upside down.”

  “You’re upside down,” said Stink.

  “What do they eat?” asked Dad.

  “It says here they eat leaf-cutter ants and fire-bellied toads,” Judy read.

  “That should be easy,” said Stink.

  “Tell you what, Judy,” said Dad. “Let’s take a ride over to the pet store. I’m not saying we’ll get a sloth, but it’s always fun to look around. Maybe it’ll even help me think of a five-letter word for fish that starts with M for my crossword puzzle.”

  “Let’s all go,” said Mom.

  When they arrived at Fur & Fangs, Judy saw snakes and parrots, hermit crabs and guppies. She even saw a five-letter fish word beginning with M — a black molly.

  “Do you have any two-toed sloths?” she asked the pet store lady.

  “Sorry. Fresh out,” said the lady.

  “How about a newt or a turtle?” asked Dad.

  “Did you see the hamsters?” asked Mom.

  “Never mind,” said Judy. “There’s nothing from the rain forest here.”

  “Maybe they have a stinkbug,” Stink said.

  “One’s enough,” said Judy, narrowing her eyes at Stink.

  They picked out a squeaky toy mouse for Mouse. When they went to pay for it, Judy noticed a green plant with teeth sitting on the counter. “What’s that?” she asked the pet store lady.

  “A Venus flytrap,” the lady said. “It’s not an animal, but it doesn’t cost much, and it’s easy to take care of. See these things that look like mouths with teeth? Each one closes like a trap door. It eats bugs around the house. Like flies and ants, that sort of thing. You can feed it a little raw hamburger too.”

  “Rare,” said Judy Moody.

  “Cool,” said Stink.

  “Good idea,” said Mom.

  “Sold,” said Dad.

  Judy set her new pet on her desk, where the angle of sunlight hit it just right. Mouse watched from the bottom bunk, with one eye open.

  “I can’t wait to take my new pet to school tomorrow for Share and Tell,” Judy told Stink. “It’s just like a rare plant from the rain forest.”

  “It is?” Stink asked.

  “Sure,” said Judy. “Just think. There could be a medicine hiding right here in these funny green teeth. When I’m a doctor, I’m going to study plants like this and discover cures for ucky diseases.”

  “What are you going to name it?” asked Stink.

  “I don’t know yet,” said Judy.

  “You could call it Bughead, since it likes bugs.”

  “Nah,” said Judy.

  Judy watered her new pet. She sprinkled Gro-Fast on the soil. When Stink left, she sang songs to it. “I know an old lady who swallowed a fly. . . .” She sang till the old lady swallowed a horse.

  She still couldn’t think of a good name. Rumpelstiltskin? Too long. Thing? Maybe.

  “Stink!” she called. “Go get me a fly.”

  “How am I going to catch a fly?” asked Stink.

  “One fly. I’ll give you a dime.” Stink ran down to the window behind the couch and brought back a fly.

  “Gross! That fly is dead.”

  “It was going to be dead in a minute anyway.”

  Judy scooped up the dead fly with the tip of her ruler and dropped it into one of the mouths. In a flash, the trap closed around the fly. Just like the pet store lady said.

  “Rare!” said Judy.

  “Snap! Trap!” Stink said, adding sound effects.

  “Go get me an ant. A live one this time.”

  Stink wanted to see the Venus flytrap eat again, so he got his sister an ant. “Snap! Trap!” said Judy and Stink when another trap closed.

  “Double rare,” Judy said.

  “Stink, go catch me a spider or something.”

  “I’m tired of catching bugs,” said Stink.

  “Then go ask Mom or Dad if we have any raw hamburger.”

  Stink frowned.

  “Please, pretty please with bubble-gum ice cream on top?” Judy begged. Stink didn’t budge. “I’ll let you feed it this time.”

  Stink ran to the kitchen and came back with a hunk of raw hamburger. He plopped a big glob of hamburger into an open trap.

  “That’s way too much!” Judy yelled, but it was too late. The mouth snap-trapped around it, hamburger oozing out of its teeth. In a blink, the whole arm drooped, collapsing in the dirt.

  “You killed it! You’re in trouble, Stink. MOM! DAD!” Judy called.

  Judy showed her parents what happened. “Stink killed my Venus flytrap!”

  “I didn’t mean to,” said Stink. “The trap closed really fast!”

  “It’s not dead. It’s digesting,” said Dad. “The jaws will probably open by tomorrow morning,” said Mom.

  “Maybe it’s just sleeping or something,” said Stink.

  “Or something,” said Judy.

  Tomorrow morning came. The jaws were still closed. Judy tried teasing it with a brand new ant. “Here you go,” she said in her best squeaky baby voice. “You like ants, don’t you?” The jaws did not open one tiny centimeter. The plant did not move one trigger hair.

  Judy gave up. She carefully lodged the plant in the bottom of her backpack. She’d take it to school, stinky, smelly glob of hamburger and all.

  On the bus, Judy showed Rocky her new pet. “I couldn’t wait to show everybody how it eats. Now it won’t even move. And it smells.”

  “Open Sesame!” said Rocky, trying some magic words. Nothing happened.

  “Maybe,” said Rocky, “the bus will bounce it open.”

  “Maybe,” said Judy. But even the bouncing of the bus did not make her new pet open up.

  “If this thing dies, I’m stuck with Mouse for MY FAVORITE PET,” Judy said.

  Mr. Todd said first thing, “Okay, class, take out your Me collage folders. I’ll pass around old magazines, and you can spend the next half-hour cutting out pictures for your collages. You still have over three weeks, but I’d like to see how everybody’s doing.”

  Her Me collage folder! Judy had been so busy with her new pet, she had forgotten to bring her folder to school.

  Judy Moody sneaked a peek at Frank Pearl’s folder. He had cut out pictures of macaroni (favorite food?), ants (favorite pet?), and shoes. Shoes? Frank Pearl’s best friend was a pair of shoes?

  Judy looked down at the open backpack under her desk. The jaws were still closed. Now her whole backpack was smelly. Judy took the straw from her juice box and poked at the Venus flytrap. No luck. It would never open in time for Share and Tell!

  “Well?” Frank asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you going to come?”

  “Where?”

  “My birthday party. A week from Saturday. All the boys from our class are coming. And Adrian and Sandy from next door.”

  Judy Moody did not care if the president himself was coming. She sniffed her backpack. It stunk like a skunk!

  “What’s in your b
ackpack?” Frank asked.

  “None of your beeswax,” Judy said.

  “It smells like dead tuna fish!” Frank Pearl said. Judy hoped her Venus flytrap would come back to life and bite Frank Pearl before he ever had another birthday.

  Mr. Todd came over. “Judy, you haven’t cut out any pictures. Do you have your folder?”

  “Idid — Imean — itwas — then — well — no,” said Judy. “I got a new pet last night.”

  “Don’t tell me,” said Mr. Todd. “Your new pet ate your Me collage folder.”

  “Not exactly. But it did eat one dead fly and one live ant. And then a big glob of . . .”

  “Next time try to remember to bring your folder to school, Judy. And please, everyone, keep homework away from animals!”

  “My new pet’s not an animal, Mr. Todd,” Judy said. “And it doesn’t eat homework. Just bugs and raw hamburger.” She pulled the Venus flytrap from her backpack. Judy could not believe her eyes! Its arm was no longer droopy. The stuck trap was now wide open, and her plant was looking hungry.

  “It’s MY FAVORITE PET,” said Judy. “Meet Jaws!”

  Finally! Judy thought the only thing finer in the world than getting Jaws had to be getting a big brown box in the mail with the name DOCTOR Judy Moody on it. She was in an operating mood.

  “Can I open it?” asked Stink, coming out of his closet fort.

  “What does it say right there?” asked Judy, pointing to the label.

  “Doctor Judy Moody,” read Stink.

  “Exactly,” said Judy Moody. “I collected all the box tops.”

  “I got you some from the school nurse!” said Stink.

  “Okay. You can go get the scissors.”

  Stink handed over the scissors. Judy poked through the tape and broke open the brown flaps. Mouse pawed at the sticky tape. Stink’s head kept getting in the way.

  “Stink! I’m in the middle of an operation!” Judy pulled aside the tissue paper and lifted out the doctor doll.

  At last! Judy held the doll in her lap and stroked her silky smooth hair. She made neat little bows in the ties of the doll’s blue and white hospital gown. The doll was wearing a hospital bracelet.

  “Her name is Hedda-Get-Betta,” Judy read.

  “Does she do anything?” asked Stink.

  “It says here if you turn the knob on top of her head, she gets sick. Then you turn the knob again, and she gets betta. Get it?”

  Judy turned the knob on the doll’s head until a new face appeared. “She has measles!” said Stink.

  “She talks when you hug her too.” Judy hugged the doll.

  “I have measles,” said Hedda-Get-Betta.

  Judy turned the knob until another face appeared. Then she hugged the doll again.

  “I have chicken pox,” said Hedda-Get-Betta.

  “Cool,” said Stink. “A sick doll. With three heads.”

  Judy turned the knob once more and hugged the doll. “All better,” said Hedda.

  “Can I make her get sick, then better?” asked Stink.

  “No,” said Judy. “I’m the doctor.”

  Judy opened her doctor kit. “At last I have someone to practice on,” she said.

  “You practice on me all the time,” said Stink.

  “Someone who doesn’t complain.”

  “You’d complain too if you had to hold up a lamp and get bandages all over you. Why can’t I ever be Elizabeth Blackwell, First Woman Doctor?”

  “For one thing, you’re a boy.”

  “Can I put her arm in a sling?” asked Stink.

  “No,” said Judy. She held the ear scope up to Hedda’s ear and turned on the light.

  “Can I mix up some of this blood from your doctor kit?”

  “Shh, I’m listening.” She held the stethoscope on Hedda. Then she held it on Stink’s chest. “Hmm.”

  “What?” said Stink. “What do you hear?”

  “A heartbeat. This can mean only one thing.”

  “What?”

  “You’re alive!”

  “Can I listen for a heartbeat?”

  “Okay, okay. But first get me a glass of water to mix the blood in.”

  “You get it,” said Stink.

  “Don’t touch anything until I get back,” said Judy. “Don’t even breathe.”

  As soon as Judy rounded the corner, Stink turned the knob on the doll’s head. Measles. He turned the knob again. Chicken pox. Measles. Chicken pox. Measles. Chicken pox. Stink turned Hedda-Get-Betta’s head back and forth, over and over, faster and faster.

  “Uh-oh,” said Stink.

  “What?” Judy asked, returning with a sloshing glass of water.

  “Her head is stuck,” he said. Judy grabbed Hedda-Get-Betta away from Stink.

  “I have chicken pox,” Hedda said. Judy tried to turn the knob. The knob was stuck all right. It would not turn, no matter how hard Judy twisted and yanked and pulled. “I have chicken pox. I have chicken pox,” Hedda said again and again.

  “Her head is stuck on chicken pox!” Judy moaned.

  “It’s not my fault,” said Stink.

  “Is too! Now she’ll never get better!” Judy took Hedda’s pulse. She listened to Hedda’s heart. She checked Hedda’s forehead for a fever. “My first patient, and she’s going to have chicken pox for the rest of her life!”

  Judy took the doll to her mother. But Mom could not turn the knob, even with her best opening-pickle-jars twist. Judy took the doll to her father. But Dad could not get the doll’s head to turn, even with his best opening-spaghetti-sauce turn.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Dad.

  “There’s only one thing I can think of.”

  “Give her a shot?” asked Mom.

  “No,” said Judy. “Band-Aids!”

  “Cool!” said Stink.

  Stink and Judy put fancy Band-Aids on Hedda-Get-Betta’s face, one for every chicken pock. Then they put Band-Aids all over her body. There were Endangered Species Band-Aids, Dinosaurs, Tattoos, Mermaids, and Race Cars. Even Glow-in-the-Dark Bloodshot-Eyeball Band-Aids.

  “So she won’t scratch,” said Doctor Judy.

  “I’m glad that emergency’s over,” Dad said.

  Judy tried to turn the doll’s head one last time. She did not yank or twist or pull. She very slowly, very carefully turned the knob. Hedda’s head turned, and her smiling, no-chicken-pox face reappeared.

  “I cured her!” Judy yelled. She hugged her doll. “All better,” said Hedda-Get-Betta.

  “Good as new,” said Mom and Dad.

  “I’m just glad she didn’t have spotted fever,” said Judy. “I never in a million years would have had enough Band-Aids for that!”

  “I think it’s going to rain for forty days and forty nights,” said Stink.

  Judy was hanging blankets from her top bunk to make a rain forest canopy over her bottom bunk. When that was done, she set Jaws on the top bunk for a jungly effect. Who needed a two-toed sloth? She climbed in and spread out her Me collage. Mouse climbed in after her. “Don’t get hair on my collage,” Judy warned her.

  Stink stuck his head through the blankets.

  “Who’s that with hair sticking all out?” he asked, pointing to her collage.

  “That’s me in a bad mood on the first day of school.”

  “Where’s me? Don’t they need to know about brothers?”

  “You mean bothers?” asked Judy.

  She pointed to some dirt glued in the lower left-hand corner.

  “I’m dirt?” asked Stink.

  Judy cracked up. “That’s for selling moon dust,” said Judy.

  “What’s that blob? Blood?”

  “Red. MY FAVORITE COLOR.”

  “Are those Spider Web Band-Aids?” Stink asked. “Where’d you get glitter glue? Can I come in there and glitter glue my bat wings?”

  Her little brother, the bat freak, was becoming a regular Frank Pearl.

  “There’s no room, Stink. This is serious. I only have about two more w
eeks to finish.”

  Judy cut out a picture of Hedda from the ad in her Luna Girls magazine and pasted it in the doctor corner, right next to her drawing of Elizabeth Blackwell copied from an encyclopedia.

  She checked Mr. Todd’s list of collage ideas.

  CLUBS. I don’t belong to any clubs, thought Judy. She’d have to skip that one.

  HOBBIES. Collecting things was her favorite hobby. But she couldn’t paste a scab or a Barbie head to the collage. She taped on the pizza table from her newest collection — the one Mr. Todd had given her.

  THE WORST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED. She couldn’t think of anything. Maybe the worst thing that ever happened to her hadn’t happened yet.

  THE FUNNIEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED. When I knocked real spooky on the wall of Stink’s room one night and scared him, she thought. But how could she put that on a collage?

  Judy puzzled over her Me collage until the rain finally stopped. She called Rocky. “Meet me at the manhole in five,” she told him.

  Rocky wore his boa constrictor shirt. Judy wore her boa constrictor shirt. “Same-same!” said Judy and Rocky, slapping hands together twice in a high-five, the way they always had when they did something exactly alike.

  Judy and Rocky stood on the manhole. “What do you think is under the street?” asked Rocky.

  “Oodles and oodles of worms,” said Judy.

  “Let’s collect some in the street and throw them down there,” said Rocky.

  “Too oogley,” said Judy.

  “We could look for rainbows in puddles,” Rocky suggested.

  “Too hard!” said Judy.

  “Listen,” said Rocky. “I hear toads. We could catch toads!”

  Rocky ran back home to get a bucket. When he came back, they cornered a toad and popped the bucket on top of it.

  “Gotcha!” Judy held it in her hand. “It feels soft and bumpy. It’s kind of cool, but not slimy.”

  All of a sudden, Judy felt something warm and wet in her hand. “Yuck!” she cried. “That toad peed on me.” She tossed the toad back into the bucket.

  “It’s probably just wet from the rain,” Rocky said.

 

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