Amelia Bedelia Chapter Book #3

by Herman Parish

  “Ha-ha!” came a laugh from under the floppy hat.

  Amelia Bedelia looked at the map again. The road they were on went through a green patch. She looked up and saw trees on both sides of the car.

  She noticed a square in the corner of the map, filled with tiny pictures. A school had a little flag on top, just like her school did. A hospital was a red cross. A little envelope was a post office. A plane was an airport. Then she found each picture on the map itself.

  “Maps are fun to figure out,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “I’m glad you think so,” said her father. “Do you see where we are?”

  Amelia Bedelia put her finger on the map. “Yup,” she said. “I’ve got us.”

  “Great. Can you figure out how to get us to Route Twenty-three?” he asked.

  Amelia Bedelia looked at the map. She turned it sideways, then upside down, then right side up again. To prove that she was thinking, she let out a giant “Hmmmmmmm.”

  At last she shouted, “I’ve got it! Keep going straight, then turn left onto this blue squiggly road, and it’ll take you there.”

  “Hmmmmmmm,” said her father. He looked at Amelia Bedelia in the rearview mirror. “A blue squiggly line is usually a river.”

  Sure enough, next to the blue squiggle picture was the word “river.” She was about to apologize when she noticed something about the road they were on.

  “Dad,” said Amelia Bedelia, “what does it mean when the solid black line for the road changes into a brown line with dashes?” She looked up as they passed a sign that read PAVEMENT ENDS.

  “Dirt road!” bellowed her dad as they skidded a bit on gravel, raising an enormous cloud of dust.

  “Snorp—yewwww!”

  Amelia Bedelia giggled at the sound of her mother snoring.

  Her dad smiled and said, “I can’t believe she can sleep through this.”

  They bounced along until they came to a stop sign. The road they were on ended, and another sign gave them a choice. They could turn left or right.

  “This isn’t on the map,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Which way should we go?”

  “I have no idea,”said her father.

  “I vote for left,”said Amelia Bedelia.

  “I’m thinking right,” said her father.

  “Call it,” said a voice under the hat.

  “Heads!” shouted Amelia Bedelia.

  “Tails!” shouted her father.

  Amelia Bedelia’s mother was wide awake now. She could always be counted on to make a decision. She pushed back her hat and flipped a coin in the air. She looked at both of them and then lifted her hand to reveal the winner.

  “Tails it is,” she said.

  They turned right, and away they went, to whatever might come next.

  As it turned out, right was wrong. They drove along for what seemed like hours. There were no more signs. There were no other roads to turn down. There were no houses. There was not one person to ask where they were. Just trees and grass and more grass and more trees.

  “Now this,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father, “is what I call roaming.”

  “And you,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother, “are a regular Daniel Boone.”

  “Daniel who?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  “Daniel Boone was a famous explorer,” said her dad. “He wore a coonskin hat while blazing trails across America.”

  “He sounds cool,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Did all that blazing start forest fires?”

  “Just campfires,” said her mom. “Look him up when we get home—now that’s official homework, my dear!”

  Amelia Bedelia got out her journal. She drew a picture of Daniel Boone. She drew a picture of a bumpy road. She drew ants on a blanket. She drew her lunch. She drew her own map key for important stuff she would like to find.

  Amelia Bedelia’s father shook his head. “Man,” he said, “I have no idea where we are.”

  “I know,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Well,” said her dad, “if this isn’t the middle of nowhere, I’m sure we could see nowhere from here.”

  As their car climbed the crest of a hill, Amelia Bedelia spied a farmer in his field and shouted, “A human being!”

  “Honey, let’s ask him where we are,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. Amelia Bedelia’s father stopped the car, and her mother lowered her window.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “We’re lost.”

  “I know,” said the farmer. “The only reason anyone drives by here is ’cause they aren’t where they’re supposed to be.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s mom handed the map to the farmer and pointed to a town. “Can you tell us how to get there?”

  The farmer squinted and shrugged. “Sorry, lady, you can’t get there from here.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s father laughed, but not like when something is funny.

  Her mother didn’t know what to say, but Amelia Bedelia did. She leaned forward between the seats and asked, “Mister farmer, sir, if we were already there, how would we get back here?”

  This time, the farmer laughed—a real laugh. “Well, little lady, that is a mighty interesting question.” Without looking at the map, he began reeling off directions.

  Her parents nodded politely as he described signs and landmarks and twists and turns.

  “So, that brings you to right here, folks,” the farmer finally said. “’Scuse me now, I’ve got to get my cows up to the barn for milking.” As he waved good-bye over his shoulder, he called out, “Come on, ladies!” A herd of cows trailed after him, the bells on their necks clanging.

  Amelia Bedelia’s parents looked at the cows and then at each other. “Did you catch any of that?” asked her dad.

  “Not one word,” said her mom.

  “I did,” said Amelia Bedelia, handing them her journal. “I wrote it all down. If we go backward, starting at the top and changing lefts to rights, we’ll get to the town.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s parents were silent. The truth was, they were dumbstruck.

  “It’s okay,” Amelia Bedelia said. “I’ll read the directions to you. First go straight for two miles, passing by a swamp. Turn left at the rock that looks like a teapot, drive three miles, cross a railroad track, turn right, drive for eight more miles . . .” Amelia Bedelia was looking at her journal, so she missed her parents gazing at her with pride.

  “Amelia Bedelia,” said her mom. “I think you’ll find your way in the world, no problem.”

  “Yup,” said her dad. “No doubt about that. You’re a regular Danielle Boone!”

  He began driving, following Amelia Bedelia’s directions word for word.

  By the time they got to the little town on the map, it was almost dark. They checked into a motel, then went out for Chinese food. The best part of their meal was the fortune cookies. Amelia Bedelia read her fortune out loud.

  “‘Learn to fish and you will never go hungry,’” she said.

  Then Amelia Bedelia’s mother read hers. “‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’” She took a bite of her cookie, then said, “I’m glad we aren’t walking. I feel like we drove nine hundred ninety-nine miles just today. What does yours say, honey?”

  Her father leaned back, cleared his throat, and read, “‘So far, so bad.’”

  Amelia Bedelia was amazed. Then he looked up and smiled.

  “You made that up!” she said.

  “I sure did,” he said. “Just like I’m making up this vacation. Sorry today wasn’t any fun. I’ll plan things better for tomorrow.”

  “Awww, Dad,” said Amelia Bedelia. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “And we’re together,” said her mom. “That’s worth a fortune.”

  “FAMILY HUG!” yelled Amelia Bedelia.

  And the three of them hugged right there in the restaurant. As they left, Amelia Bedelia swept their paper fortunes into her pocket. That night she wrote an entry in her journal. Sh
e signed her name with the date, to make it official, and she taped her mom’s thousand-mile fortune on the first page. Then she read her dad’s fortune. What it really said was FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS. That made her feel terrible about what she had just written. Her father’s dream had been to go roaming, but things hadn’t gone very smoothly. She promised to be nicer to him tomorrow. Everyone needs a dream, she decided, especially the people you love. She tucked her fortune and her dad’s fortune into her journal for later.

  The next morning, Amelia Bedelia’s father was humming at breakfast. “Good news,” he said. “The motel manager told me about a tiny town not far from here. It’s historic, with lots of shops, good restaurants, and interesting things to see and do. Best of all, the town is celebrating its three-hundredth birthday, so let’s head straight there.”

  They arrived in no time and promptly got lost. Various streets were closed off with detours. Amelia Bedelia was certain that her dad was driving in a circle.

  “This sure is a one-horse town,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.

  People in fancy costumes wearing powdered wigs mingled on the sidewalks with people dressed as soldiers from a long time ago. There were real soldiers from today and regular people too. Amelia Bedelia spotted a marching band heading down one street, but she didn’t see that one horse in town.

  “I’ll bet there’s a parade or something,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “Honey, let’s ask for directions.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s father shook his head. “Some of these people are from hundreds of years ago. They wouldn’t know where things are today.”

  “Oh, Daddy!” Amelia Bedelia laughed.

  “Then I will ask,” said her mother.

  Before she could, her father headed down an alley. “At last!” he said. “An open street.” He turned onto it and wound up between a drum-and-bugle corps and about thirty girls waving flags and tossing batons into the air.

  Spectators on the sidewalks were waving at them. Amelia Bedelia waved back. “What friendly people!” she said.

  Amelia Bedelia’s mother turned to her father. “Congratulations, honey,” she said. “You crashed a parade.”

  “Crashed?” said Amelia Bedelia. “Did we hit anyone?”

  “Not yet,” said her mother. “But the day is young.”

  Amelia Bedelia looked out their back window. Sure enough, they were driving in the middle of a parade. They drove by cheering crowds, under bunting, and past popcorn carts while the drum-and-bugle corps played “Yankee Doodle Dandy.”

  Finally the parade halted at a grandstand. Three boys wearing old-timey clothes opened their car doors and escorted Amelia Bedelia and her parents to a stage.

  A man who Amelia Bedelia thought must be the mayor shook their hands. “On behalf of our fair hamlet, we welcome you as our one-millionth visitor. Here is the key to the town.” The man bowed and handed Amelia Bedelia a giant key.

  “You better keep your key, sir,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We can’t come back tonight to lock up your town.” Then she turned to her father and said, “You were right, Daddy. This is a one-horse town.”

  The smile on the mayor’s face faded, while her father’s face got very red.

  Amelia Bedelia pointed across the square at a statue of a soldier on horseback. “Is that the horse you meant?” she asked.

  “That’s Major Andrew McClary, our town’s founder,” said the mayor, beaming again. “I’m glad you gave your daughter a lesson in our history. Are you from around here?”

  “We are right here,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “Actually,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father, “we’re on vacation, traveling off the beaten path.”

  “So far, the path has beaten us,” added Amelia Bedelia’s mother.

  “Well,” said the mayor, “if you won’t accept this key, at least accept the key to my cabin up on Lake Largemouth.”

  “Oh, thank you, but we couldn’t do that,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother.

  “Why not?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  Amelia Bedelia’s father smiled and nodded, raising his eyebrows.

  “I’ll convince you at our Founder’s Day picnic,” said the mayor. “Come on—let’s eat!”

  They had a terrific time at the picnic. Amelia Bedelia ate cornbread, sausage, apple pie, and biscuits with honey. Everyone raved about Lake Largemouth. Before the picnic was over, Amelia Bedelia’s father had the key to the cabin in his pocket.

  “Enjoy yourselves,” said the mayor. “Now listen, if you run into any problems, there’s a doc next door.”

  “Is that where you tie up your boat?” asked Amelia Bedelia.

  “No, I’ve got my own dock,” said the mayor. “Dr. Piltin is my neighbor up at the lake. But, really, the only thing you can get sick of up there is relaxing. All the faucets leak, so if you don’t mind a drip-drip-drip at night, you’ll sleep better than you ever have.”

  “Sold!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother.

  Lake Largemouth was not close, but it sounded like so much fun that the miles seemed to melt away. Amelia Bedelia found the lake on the map. It had tiny symbols of a fish and a boat on it.

  “Hey,” she said, “These pictures mean that we can go boating and fishing. That fish is as big as the boat. Maybe my fortune could come true!”

  “When I was your age,” said her father, “I caught a really big fish.” He took one hand off the steering wheel and held it out to show her the size.

  Amelia Bedelia’s mother shook her head. “When I met your father, that fish was half that size. It’s grown bigger every time he talks about it.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s mother had tried to go fishing once too, but she couldn’t bear to kill a poor worm just to catch a fish. That made sense to Amelia Bedelia.

  Amelia Bedelia’s mom and dad started telling funny stories about their summer vacations when they were growing up. Before Amelia Bedelia knew it, they had arrived.

  “Hey, Dad!” yelled Amelia Bedelia. “Was the fish you caught that big?”

  Her parents’ mouths dropped open in awe. Dead ahead was a largemouth bass as big as a semitrailer. It was made of concrete and painted to look like a real fish with scales and everything. It could have swallowed their car.

  “Wow,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mom. “That’s how big your dad’s fish will be if he keeps telling that story.”

  “Ha, ha,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. He wasn’t really laughing, but he sure was smiling. He parked next to a grocery store.

  “Let’s go buy some staples,” he said.

  Staples? wondered Amelia Bedelia. Why did they need staples on vacation? Had he packed a stapler for paperwork?

  This was a general store, cozy and chock-full of interesting stuff. Amelia Bedelia walked across the creaky wooden floor to pick out postcards, while her parents shopped.

  When it was time to pay, she asked, “Where are the staples?”

  “Right here,” said her father, waving his hand over eggs, bread, milk, butter, coffee, tea, and sugar.

  Amelia Bedelia hoped that her father could relax so he wouldn’t mistake food for office supplies.

  While her parents enjoyed a cup of coffee, Amelia Bedelia sat in a big rocker on the store’s porch and wrote to her friends.

  It was love at first sight. Amelia Bedelia thought the cabin was possibly the cutest cabin in the world. It was by the water, so they got a view of the lake from the breakfast room and both bedrooms upstairs. As they were putting the staples away, there was a knock at the door.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” came a deep, friendly voice. “I’ve been expecting you. Stan Piltin’s my name, but everyone calls me Doc.”

  Amelia Bedelia’s parents introduced themselves and Amelia Bedelia.

  “I am glad to meet you, young lady,” said Doc. “My granddaughter Audrey is visiting us. She may be a bit older than you are, but I’m sure you two will get along. She’s a good sport.”

  “Which one?” asked Amelia Bedelia. “Soccer? Basketball?”


  Doc laughed. “Actually, it’s fishing,” he said.

  “I need to learn how to fish,” said Amelia Bedelia.

  “I bet Audrey would be happy to teach you,” said Doc. “You just missed her, though. She’s out in the boat. In fact, she’s fishing right around that bend.” He pointed to where the shore of the lake curved around.

  “How about we take the mayor’s boat for a spin?” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “We can go say hello.”

  “Great idea,” said Doc. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the ropes.”

  “Thanks. I grew up around boats,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father, “but I’d appreciate the help.”

  They all went down to their dock and climbed aboard the speedboat tied up there. Everyone put on life jackets. Amelia Bedelia’s father got behind the wheel and started the engine. Doc warned them about a big stump that was submerged about fifty yards off the dock.

  “You can’t always see it,” he said. “Be careful. It snapped the propeller off a boat last summer.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.

  As Doc cast them off, he hollered over the roar of the engine. “Amelia Bedelia—find Audrey! You can try something new and get your feet wet!”

  “Excuse me?” yelled Amelia Bedelia. Why would Doc want her to get wet feet?

  Doc’s reply was lost in the roar of the motor. And Amelia Bedelia forgot all about wet feet as her dad steered carefully around the big stump. As she looked down into the clear water, she could see the stump. Wait, she thought. Had something big moved down there? Or were her eyes playing tricks on her, just like her ears?