Soon her dad was speeding across Lake Largemouth. Amelia Bedelia liked the cushions on the seats and the shiny brass instruments on the dashboard.
“Do boats work like cars?” she asked.
“Of course not,” said her father. “We’re on the water.”
“That’s good,” said Amelia Bedelia. “Because this boat has one of those little windows with an arrow pointing at the letter E, just like our car.”
Amelia Bedelia’s parents looked at the gas gauge, then at each other. Their eyes practically popped out of their heads. “Not again!” they yelled together.
“Steer closer to land,” advised Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “If we run out of gas, we can swim for it.”
“Aye-aye, captain,” said her father. He turned hard, swooping as close to shore as he could without running aground. The engine made a sputtering, coughing, wheezing sound, and then . . . silence.
“What boat did you grow up around—the Titanic?” asked Amelia Bedelia’s mom. “Too bad you didn’t grow up around a gas pump too. Now what are we going to do?”
“Fear not,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father, picking up a boat hook with a long wooden shaft. “It’s shallow enough to use this pole to push us around that spit of land. Maybe we’ll find someone with gas to spare.”
Amelia Bedelia and her mother moved to the stern to stay out of his way as he began pushing them along.
“I know,” he said. “Imagine you’re in Venice, Italy. I’m your handsome gondolier.”
Amelia Bedelia’s mother looked at her, then rolled her eyes.
Amelia Bedelia’s father tied a handkerchief around his neck.
“Romantico, no?” he asked.
“No!” said her mother.
“Um . . . maybe embarrassing?” said Amelia Bedelia.
“This will help,” he said, clearing his throat and singing, “Mi-mi-mi-mi!” Then, with the fakest Italian accent ever, he launched into “O Sole Mio” (which just happened to be one of Amelia Bedelia’s favorite songs), but with new lyrics he made up on the spot.
“O sole mio, please serve me pasta,
With extra sauce and a ton of cheese.
Then bring me a plate of pastries,
With an espresso as strong as me!”
“Bravo, honey,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother, laughing.
Amelia Bedelia and her mother clapped loudly, hoping he would stop, but it only encouraged him. Amelia Bedelia’s father began singing every Italian word he knew, making up a song that made no sense.
“Buon giorno, gelato . . .
Arrivederci, lasagna . . .”
With a giant shove, he pushed their boat around the bend and sang,
“Ciao, minestrone . . .”
“Hey! Be quiet!” a voice hollered. “You’re scaring the fish!”
The voice belonged to a girl sitting in a boat and fishing.
“Hi, Audrey!” Amelia Bedelia hollered back.
“How did you know my name?” asked Audrey.
As they drew nearer, they explained who they were. Audrey blushed. “Sorry I criticized your singing,” she said. “All I can think about is catching a big fish. I want to win the Lake Largemouth fishing contest.”
“I’ve never even been fishing,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“I can show you how,” said Audrey.
“Can I hang out with Audrey?” asked Amelia Bedelia. “She could teach me how to fish.”
“Well, maybe for a bit,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother.
“If you can spare some gas, we’ll head back,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.
“Sure,” said Audrey. “Come on over, Amelia Bedelia.”
Amelia Bedelia’s father used the boat hook to pull their boat right next to Audrey’s. Amelia Bedelia stood up and started to step across. Just then, a gust of wind blew the boats apart. Amelia Bedelia had one foot on each boat! She was doing a giant split as the boats drifted farther and farther away from each other.
“Whoaaaaaa!” cried Amelia Bedelia, waving her arms around to keep her balance. But it was no use—
SPLUL—LASSSSHHHHH!
Amelia Bedelia bobbed to the surface. She grabbed the side of Audrey’s boat, and Audrey hauled her in like a big fish.
“Amelia Bedelia!” yelled her father.
“Sweetie!” yelled her mother.
Her parents were frantic until they heard her laughing and sputtering.
Then Amelia Bedelia did what her dog Finally did when she got wet. She shook herself all over, spraying Audrey with water. Now both girls were laughing, and so were Amelia Bedelia’s parents.
“Don’t worry,” said Amelia Bedelia. “The sun is drying me off.”
“We’ll be fine,” said Audrey. “Tell Grandpa Doc to light the grill. We’ll be back in an hour with a mess of fish for dinner.”
Audrey showed Amelia Bedelia her fishing rod and explained all the parts.
“I didn’t know fishing was so complicated,” said Amelia Bedelia.
“My rod is pretty fancy,” said Audrey, “but I always bring along this pole with just a line, a hook, and a bobber. It’s really fun to use.” As she was talking, Audrey reached into an old can filled with dirt. She pulled out a fat, wriggly worm. “Here’s how to bait your hook,” she said.
“Eeee-yewwww!” said Amelia Bedelia, looking away. When she looked back, the worm was on the hook. Amelia Bedelia stared at it and said, “Sorry!”
Audrey swung the line with the hook and bobber into the water with a plop, then handed the pole to Amelia Bedelia. Amelia Bedelia perched on a cushion, where she could fish and dry off too.
“What kind of fish do you think I’ll catch?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“Any kind,” said Audrey. “Maybe catfish, walleye, sunfish, rainbow trout . . .”
Amelia Bedelia was wondering if she would ever figure out fishing when she felt a tug and her bobber vanished under the water.
“You got one!” shouted Audrey.
“What do I do?” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Pull him in!” yelled Audrey.
Amelia Bedelia lifted her pole, and a fish was at the end of her line! It swung back and forth, above them, around them, and between them, until it hit Amelia Bedelia in the chest. She grabbed it with her free hand. “Gotcha,” she said.
“Nice fish,” said Audrey. “You’ve got a good perch there.”
“It’s very comfortable,” said Amelia Bedelia as she sat back down on the cushion while Audrey unhooked her fish.
An hour flew by as Amelia Bedelia caught fish after fish. Audrey was so busy taking fish off her hook and putting on fresh worms that she barely had a chance to fish herself. But she did tell Amelia Bedelia all kinds of interesting things about fish and how they like to hide in shady spots and near roots and rocks and how she once saw five big trout jump way out of the water at the exact same time.
When they got back to the dock, Doc was waiting for them. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Your parents told me you all ran out of gas. I should have checked. I could kick myself.”
“That might hurt,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I can’t kick myself, and I wouldn’t even if I could. And neither should you.”
Doc’s laughter turned into a whistle when Audrey held up the string of fish Amelia Bedelia had caught. “Wow,” he said. “Now that’s what I call getting your feet wet.”
“All of me got wet,” said Amelia Bedelia. “I fell in and got soaked.”
“That’s a good nickname for you,” said Audrey. “I’m going to call you Soaky.”
“Maybe that’s the secret to your beginner’s luck,” said Doc. “Fishermen are very superstitious—right, Audrey?”
Audrey nodded. “That’s why I wear Grandpa’s lucky fishing shirt.”
“Never wash it,” said Doc. “All that luck will go right down the drain.”
Amelia Bedelia had been puzzled by Audrey’s shirt. It was super old and pretty stinky. Amelia Bedelia pinched her nose and said, “Pee-yew! If I
’m Soaky, then you’re Stinky!”
Audrey laughed. “Deal,” she said. She held out her hand, and they shook on it.
Things got a whole lot stinkier when Doc showed Amelia Bedelia how to clean her fish. She was expecting soap and hot water. Instead, he used a knife to scrape off the scales, cut off the heads and tails, and scoop out the insides.
Amelia Bedelia looked queasy.
Audrey grinned. “Do you have the guts to try it yourself?” she asked.
Amelia Bedelia surveyed the growing mound of fish guts and declared, “There are plenty of guts around here!”
Then she cleaned the rest of the fish herself, with advice from Doc. When she had finished, Amelia Bedelia said, “Audrey, now I know why you called this a mess of fish. This is disgusting!”
Doc’s wife came outside and introduced herself to Amelia Bedelia. “My name is Darlene,” she said. “But everyone calls me Mrs. Doc.”
“Hi, Mrs. Doc,” said Amelia Bedelia. She liked that name. It suited her.
“I invited your parents over for a fish fry,” said Mrs. Doc. “So I’m glad you did your part and supplied the fish.”
Mrs. Doc put a huge cast-iron frying pan on the grill. Then she set up a fish-frying assembly line with the girls. Amelia Bedelia took a piece of fish and rolled it in flour with a bit of salt and pepper, then handed it to Audrey, who dipped it in a bowl of egg and covered it with bread crumbs. Then Mrs. Doc slid it into the pan, where it sizzled until it was golden brown.
As the last pieces of fish went in the pan, Amelia Bedelia’s parents arrived.
“What a lovely surprise,” said Mrs. Doc. “I’m tickled pink that you are here at the lake.”
“Don’t say ‘tickle’ near my dad,” warned Amelia Bedelia. “He might do it.”
Fortunately, her father had his hands full. He was carrying a salad, while her mother had brought her easy-breezy-appetizer-that-everyone-raves-about-but-takes-no-work-at-all. Mrs. Doc took one bite and said, “This is awful good!”
Awful good? thought Amelia Bedelia. Does she think it’s awful or good? It can’t be both, can it?
“You’ve got to give me this recipe before you leave,” said Mrs. Doc. “It’s really so yummy!”
“We’ll probably take off on Saturday,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “So we can have a day to get back to normal.”
“Impossible!” said Doc. “You can’t leave Saturday. That’s the day of the fishing contest and the crowning of Miss Bigmouth.”
Amelia Bedelia could not believe her ears. You could get a crown for having a big mouth?
“I know a bunch of girls in my class who could be Miss Bigmouth,” she blurted out. “They can’t keep a secret for five seconds before they blab it to everyone. How do they decide which girl has the biggest mouth?”
“Young lady!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “Don’t be rude!”
But Doc and Mrs. Doc couldn’t stop laughing. “Amelia Bedelia,” said Doc, “we’re so glad to have you next door, even for just a few more days!”
“The big mouth isn’t on a girl,” Audrey explained. “It’s on a fish, a bass. Some people call it a largemouth or a widemouth. These days, they usually just call it a bigmouth.”
“Sounds like an excuse for a beauty contest,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. She didn’t look one bit pleased. “We don’t need to stay for that.”
“Oh, it’s a big honor in these parts,” said Doc.
“And skill is involved in the fishing. If it was easy, they would call it ‘catching’ instead of ‘fishing.’ Whoever lands the biggest bigmouth wins five hundred dollars.”
Amelia Bedelia’s mother tilted her head. “The winner of the fishing contest could be a man or a woman, right?” she asked. “Has Miss Bigmouth ever caught the biggest fish?”
“Not yet, but maybe she will this year,” said Doc.
“I’m going to win,” said Audrey. “That’s why I’ve been practicing every day. And I’m counting on having Amelia Bedelia in my boat to bring me luck.”
“Speaking of fish,” said Mrs. Doc, “supper is on!”
That night Amelia Bedelia worked on her journal before going to sleep. She had lots to write about. She taped her fortune on a blank page.
LEARN TO FISH AND YOU WILL NEVER GO HUNGRY.
She decided that if she had an older sister (which she knew was pretty much impossible), she’d like her to be like Audrey. Would Audrey like a younger sister just like her? And what was Audrey going to do with her five hundred dollars?
Amelia Bedelia and her parents adored the cabin. Every day her dad talked about hopping in the car and roaming around, but there were so many fun things to do right where they were!
Amelia Bedelia spent most of every day in the boat with Audrey. The good thing about fishing is that it leaves plenty of time for talking. They talked about school and friends and parents. They talked about movies and TV shows and books and animals. The biggest difference between them was that Audrey had a cat and Amelia Bedelia had a dog. And Audrey was older. But that didn’t seem to matter at all. Talking about Finally made Amelia Bedelia miss her, so she wrote a postcard to Diana.
By Friday, the day before the Bigmouth Festival, the town was filling up with fishing fanatics. Amelia Bedelia and her parents took a walk to the public dock to check out where the fish would be weighed and measured.
Amelia Bedelia and Audrey went fishing later that morning. Audrey practiced casting with her rod and reel while Amelia Bedelia practiced with the cane pole.
Amelia Bedelia knew her dad would admire how organized Audrey was. She was a planner, with a checklist for everything she needed or might need. Her tackle box was filled with lures and spare reels. Audrey even had a strategy.
“You know what, Soaky?” she told Amelia Bedelia. “I’m not going to fish until late in the day. I know where the big fish like to hide. I don’t want people to see my fish and try my spot, because then I might not win. I’m going to come in with a huge fish right at the end of the contest, at five o’clock. It’s my best shot.”
That night, Amelia Bedelia and her parents and Doc, Mrs. Doc, and Audrey went into town for pizza. It was Amelia Bedelia’s dad’s idea.
“He’s jealous,” Amelia Bedelia’s mom announced as they studied their menus. “He remembered that tonight our dog is getting pizza at the kennel, so he got a craving for it.”
“Puppy pizza day!” said Audrey. “Sweet!”
Amelia Bedelia wondered what Finally would order, as her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Doc tried to outdo one another with how many weird toppings they could put on a pizza. They added olives, peppers, mushrooms, sausage, meatballs, zucchini, beans, onions, anchovies, pineapple, and broccoli. Amelia Bedelia’s father ordered his pizza “Roman style,” which meant a thin crust. But Amelia Bedelia’s mother pointed out that the crust would break under the weight of his toppings. Amelia Bedelia and Audrey stuck with just extra cheese.
A pitcher of lemonade arrived, and Doc proposed a toast.
“Here’s to fishing and catching,” he said. “May you do both!”
“To our fisher girls, Amelia Bedelia and Audrey!” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother.
There was enough pizza left over to fill a whole box, which they took home for tomorrow’s lunch.
On the day of the contest, Lake Largemouth was swarming with boats. Doc and Amelia Bedelia’s dad took off in the mayor’s speedboat to try their luck. Later, Amelia Bedelia’s mother and Mrs. Doc headed into town to shop. Before they left, Amelia Bedelia’s mother gave her daughter a hug.
“Have fun,” she said. “We’ll be rooting for you. Take this leftover pizza with you for lunch.”
Audrey was unusually grumpy when she picked up Amelia Bedelia in the boat. She banged into the dock and dropped her spare reel overboard.
“Is something wrong, Stinky?” asked Amelia Bedelia.
“I’m doomed,” said Audrey. “Grandma Doc accidentally washed my lucky fishing shirt. Now it isn’t lucky any
more.”
Amelia Bedelia inhaled deeply. Yes, that amazing aroma that had hung over Audrey in the boat was gone. “But you’re really good at fishing,” she said. “You don’t need luck.” She stepped into the boat and sat on her favorite perch.
“Fishing is mostly luck,” said Audrey.
They headed out full speed ahead, but they didn’t get very far.
BANG!
The engine conked out.
“Oh, no!” said Audrey. “Was that what I think it was?”
That’s when Amelia Bedelia remembered the stump that Doc had warned them about.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Audrey. She tried to start the engine, but it was dead. She was close to tears. “I planned for everything. Oh, why did Grandma Doc have to wash my shirt?”
“We have oars,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We can row.”
“But it’ll take so long,” said Audrey. “The contest will be over before we get to my spot.”
Amelia Bedelia felt terrible. She should have remembered about that stump. If she could have kicked herself, she would have kicked herself.
Amelia Bedelia thought for a minute. “I know,” she said. “Let’s fish right here.”
“There’s nothing here,” said Audrey.
“Unless you want to catch that stupid stump!”
“But Stinky,” Amelia Bedelia said, “didn’t you tell me that bass like to hang out by tree roots? A stump that big must have hundreds of roots. There could be a big bass waiting down there.”
Amelia Bedelia Chapter Book #3 Page 3