by Michael Rex
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Michael Rex
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.
Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House LLC,
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rex, Michael, author, illustrator.
The hole to China / written and illustrated by Michael Rex.
p. cm. — (Icky Ricky ; #4)
“A Stepping Stone Book.”
Summary: “He’s digging a hole to China, in his backyard. He found a free toilet in someone’s garbage. He fell into a pigpen with a muddy mega-pig. Icky Ricky is up to his eyeballs in trouble—and ick.” —Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-385-37556-6 (pbk.) — ISBN 978-0-385-37557-3 (lib. bdg.) —
ISBN 978-0-385-37558-0 (ebook)
[1. Behavior—Fiction. 2. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.R32875Ho 2014 [E]—dc23 2013048840
This book has been officially leveled by the F&P Text Level Gradient™ Leveling System.
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
To Rick W., the Real Icky Ricky
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1. The Hole to China
2. The Lost Dog and the Ghost (Part 1)
3. Operation Gus!
4. The Great Farm Getaway
5. The Lost Dog and the Ghost (Part 2)
“Ricky! Gus! Stew!” shouted Gus’s dad over the loud rain. “What the heck are you doing in that hole?”
“Having a sleepover,” said Gus. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought your toothbrush. You forgot it!” said Gus’s dad. “But why are you having a sleepover in a muddy hole in Ricky’s yard?”
“Because we didn’t want to go to the Island of Zombie Babies!” said Ricky.
“What?” said Gus’s dad. “Just tell me what’s going on!”
“All right,” said Ricky.…
It all started this morning. I had decided to dig a hole to China in my backyard. It was something I’d always wanted to do, and I thought today would be a good day to do it.
Gus and Stew came over to remind me that tonight was Heavy-Trash Night. That’s when everyone in town puts out big things the garbage truck won’t normally take.
Gus was like, “What are you doing?”
I told them I was digging a hole to China.
Stew said, “You know that’s impossible. There’s a giant wad of burning magma at the center of the earth.”
Then I said, “Yeah, duh. That’s why my tunnel isn’t going to go straight. It’s going to be curved and stuff.”
Gus said, “Hey. Maybe it could stop at other places. Like England, or Japan, or Cleveland.”
Then Stew said, “Or maybe Guam.”
Gus and I started laughing. I asked, “Guam? What’s Guam?”
Stew told us that Guam was a tiny island way out in the Pacific Ocean.
“It might be really hard to make a tunnel to a little island,” I said. “If you don’t come up at the right place, you could come up under the ocean.”
“Or end up at the wrong island,” said Stew.
Gus was like, “Yeah, a creepy deserted island.”
Then I said, “With zombie babies.”
All at once we said, “The Island of Zombie Babies! Jinx!” We started laughing.
I shouted, “Island of Zombie Babies, here we come!”
Gus and Stew jumped into the hole and started digging with me.
Then I asked, “What are we going to do when we get to the Island of Zombie Babies?”
Stew said, “I guess we’ll have to fight them.”
“Yeah, and there would probably be hundreds. Maybe thousands,” said Gus.
I scratched my head and asked, “What’s the point of going there?”
“It sounds like a lot of work,” said Gus.
“Maybe it’s not a great idea,” said Stew. “Let’s go to Guam!”
We dug all day. My mom even brought us lunch outside. We dug and dug until we made a pretty great hole. It was so deep that if we stood in it, we could hardly see out.
“You know,” I said, “I don’t think we’re ever gonna get to Guam. But, man, this is a really cool hole.”
“I think it’s the best hole ever,” said Stew. He sat down. “Ugh. I can’t dig anymore.”
I got down with him. “Yeah. I’m beat,” I said. “That was some serious digging.”
Gus sat, too. It was crowded. The dirt was cool, and we just sort of hung out there awhile.
“This is a pretty good place to chill,” said Gus.
“I wish we could sleep here,” said Stew. “Like a hotel.”
“Yes!” I said. Then I had my best idea of the day. “Let’s make it a Hole-tel!”
“We need to decorate it!” Stew said.
All at once we shouted, “Heavy-Trash Night!” We all jumped up and climbed out of the hole.
We grabbed my dad’s hand truck from the garage and ran down the street. At first we didn’t see anything good. There were just a couple of old flowerpots, a busted door, two soggy rugs, and a box full of boxes. Really. It was just a big box filled with little boxes. It was weird.
We went around the next corner, and then we saw the greatest thing ever! A toilet!
Next to the toilet we found the other best thing ever, a little kid’s mattress! There was a painting, too. It was of a duck. We grabbed all three things. The toilet was heavy, but we got it on the hand truck. Gus carried the little mattress, and Stew carried the painting.
“These are going to look great in the Hole-tel,” I said.
We got back to my house. We were going to try to carry the toilet down into the hole, but it was too heavy.
“Should we just drop it?” asked Stew.
“It might break,” said Gus.
Then I had the best idea ever.
I took the little mattress and wrapped it around the toilet.
“See?” I said. “It’s padded now. Like in a moving truck.”
We pushed it to the edge of the hole, and I said, “On the count of three …”
We never wait for three. We dropped the toilet down into the hole. And you know what? Only that lid piece in the back broke.
We flattened out the mattress and hung the duck picture on the side of the hole. It looked awesome. It was getting dark, so we all went home for dinner.
Later, Gus and Stew came back for a sleepover in the Hole-tel. I had made a sign that they thought was really awesome.
We all had sleeping bags. We took them down into the hole and tried to get comfortable. We were really tired because we had been digging all day. But there wasn’t any room to sleep. We tried to sleep standing up. That didn’t work. We tried to sleep on top of each other. That didn’t work. I tried sleeping on the toilet. That totally didn’t work.
“I have to use the toilet,” said Gus.
“No way,” said Stew. “It’s not a real toilet.”
“Then what’s the point of it?” asked Gus.
“Because no o
ne’s going to stay in a hotel without a toilet,” I said.
Stew and I both said, “Duh.”
We all started laughing at how stupid that conversation was. Then boom! There was some thunder and lightning, and it started to rain.
First we just threw our sleeping bags over our heads, but the hole was filling up fast with water. We tried to climb out, but since it was all muddy we couldn’t. We tried standing on the toilet, but we still had nothing to grab. That’s when you found us.
“Well,” said Gus’s dad, “I guess that makes perfect sense if you’re a ten-year-old boy. But I think it’s nuts! C’mon, it’s pouring. Let’s get you out of there.” He reached into the hole and pulled Gus up, then Ricky, and then Stew.
Then he slipped and fell into the hole. He lay for a moment in the giant puddle at the bottom.
“You know, you’re going to have to start charging more money for this Hole-tel,” he said.
“Why?” said Ricky.
“Because,” said Gus’s dad, “it has a pool now!”
#1: My Bedroom Closet
I like to dig, so I really like archaeology. What’s cool about archaeology is that it shows us how people lived in the past. Digging through the layers in my bedroom closet allows me to relive my own history.
#1: My woodworking period
(Saws, glue, sawdust, sandpaper)
#2: My pastry chef period
(Flour, bowls, sugar, blueberries)
#3: My collecting period
(Rocks, soda cans, pizza crusts, long ropes)
#4: My sandwich period
(Bread, peanut butter, mayonnaise, special sauce)
#5: My beach-in-a-closet period
(Sand, shells, a plastic bag filled with salt water, crabs)
#6: My every-single-sock-I-have-ever-worn period
(Sport, dress, casual, solid, striped)
#7: Floor/backpack from third grade
“Look out!” Ricky called as he ran from the front door of Stew’s house. He plowed right into Stew, who was walking in.
“Oomph!” said Stew. The boys toppled over each other and down the front steps.
“Why are you in our house?” asked Stew’s mom, who was right behind Stew. “And why are you wearing a dress?”
“Because the Goofenhausers lost their dog!”
Stew laughed. “The Goofen-whos?”
“The Goofenhausers! They’re really nice!” said Ricky.
“Ricky,” said Stew’s mom, “you’re not making any sense!”
“Okay! Okay!” said Ricky as he was getting up.…
It all started when I was walking down the street today. I saw this flyer for a lost dog. There were lots of flyers, so I took one down and brought it over to show Stew. When I got here, Stella was sitting on the front steps.
“Hey,” I said. “Is Stew here? There’s a lost dog that we should go look for.”
“No,” said Stella. “He went to the dentist with my mom.”
“Oh,” I said. “Do you want to go look for the dog?”
She said no.
“Listen to this,” I said, and I read the flyer. “ ‘Lost dog. Answers to Roxy. Last seen on the corner of Driggs and Bayard. She’s a really sweet dog, and we miss her so much. It would mean the world to us to have her home again. Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Goofenhauser.’ ”
Stella didn’t seem that interested.
“And look, there’s a picture of the dog and her owners. See?” I showed her the picture. “We should try to help them.”
“No,” said Stella. I thought she was acting kind of weird, because usually she would have helped look for a lost dog.
“These people really want their dog back,” I said.
“So what? I’ve got my own problems,” said Stella.
All of a sudden, this strange moaning came from the house! Stella screamed and put her hands over her ears.
“What the heck is that?” I asked.
“It’s a ghost or a demon or something!” said Stella. “The house is possessed. That’s why I’m out here and not inside.”
I was like, “Awesome! Let’s go find it! I’ve always wanted to hunt a ghost.” I tried to go into the house.
“No!” she said. “I’m not allowed to have boys over when Mom’s not home.”
“Well, then I’ll pretend I’m a girl. Let me wear some of your clothes,” I said.
“That’s stupid,” she said. “You’ll still look like a boy.”
“C’mon,” I said. I stepped past her, into the doorway. The moaning started again. We both screamed. We ran into the house, ran up to her room, jumped on her bed, and hid under a blanket.
“No boys under the blanket!” she said, and kicked me hard. I fell off the bed and banged my head on a bookshelf.
“Quiet!” she said. I stayed on the ground for a moment till everything got calm again.
“Put this on,” said Stella. She handed me a princess-type dress.
“Hey,” I said, “this is an old Halloween costume or something.”
“I don’t want you to ruin my real clothes,” said Stella. “You get everything filthy.”
I put on the dress. She told me to sit down and started putting makeup on my face. There were brushes and pencils and lip stuff, and it was all kind of yucky. Now, I don’t mind getting messy, but this was different. She put a wig on me, too. She held up a mirror.
“Yeah,” said Stella. “It looks like you fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down!”
The moaning started again. Stella covered her ears. The moans weren’t as loud upstairs.
“Let’s go find it,” I said. We stepped into the hall. I wanted to look in Stew’s room, but there was a sign on the door:
A sign under that said:
They were awesome signs.
I’d been in Stew’s house a lot, so I knew where things were.
“Let’s look in the attic first,” I said.
“No way,” said Stella. “I don’t even like going up there on a normal day.”
I turned the knob to the attic door. It wouldn’t open.
“Mom keeps it locked now,” said Stella, “ever since you and Stew tried to turn it into a dance club and flooded it with soap bubbles. Anyway, I don’t want to find the ghost or whatever it is. I just want it to go away.”
“If we want it to go away, we have to have a séance,” I said.
“What’s that?” asked Stella.
“It’s when you talk to a ghost. You can ask it to leave or do something,” I said.
“Let’s ask it to leave,” said Stella.
“Sure,” I said. We went downstairs and sat on the living room floor.
“Sit across from me,” I said.
Stella sat down. I crossed my legs. Stella crossed her legs, too. I reached out my hands.
“Hold my hands,” I said.
“No way! You’re disgusting,” she said.
“Well, then it won’t work,” I said.
The moaning started again, and Stella screamed. She got up, ran to the kitchen, and came back wearing big dishwashing gloves. She grabbed my hands.
“Tell the ghost to leave,” she said.
“Okay, okay!” I said. I closed my eyes and said, “Spirit of this house … can you hear me?”
There was no response. Nothing. Everything was quiet. I tried again.
“Spirit of this house,” I said in my most serious voice, “my name is Ricky.”
“You’re a girl, remember?” said Stella.
“Oh. Right!” I said. I did my best girl voice.
“That’s not a real name,” said Stella.
“What name would you use?” I asked.
“Well, since you’re the world’s ugliest girl, your name should be Uglina Grossella,” said Stella. She’s as good at making up names as Stew is.
“Is Grossella a last name or a middle name?” I asked.
“Middle,” she said.
“Then my full name is Uglina Grossella Hotw
ings,” I said. I cracked up.
Stella finally started laughing, but just a little bit. “Boys think the stupidest things are funny,” she said.
I grabbed her hands and talked to the ghost again.
“O spirit of the house, my name is Uglina,” I said. “Can you hear me?” Everything was quiet. “If you hear me, give us a sign.”
Nothing. It was silent. Then I farted. I really let one rip.
“Ugggh!” said Stella. “Why are boys so gross?” She held her nose.
“How dare you call Uglina Grossella Hotwings a boy?” I said in my girlie voice.
Stella shoved me, and I fell back and bonked my head on the wall.
A picture of an old lady fell off the wall into my lap.
“Grandma!” said Stella. She grabbed the picture.
“Your grandma’s trying to contact you!” I said.
“Ricky!” called Ricky’s dad as he carefully walked down the dark street. “Why are you out here in the dark, all dressed in black? Are you guys supposed to be ninjas or something?”
Ricky and Stew were standing in front of Gus’s house.
“No. Special Ops,” said Ricky.
“That makes total sense,” said Ricky’s dad as he rolled his eyes. “Why the heck are you dressed as Special Ops?”
“Because Gus’s mom won’t let him eat junk food,” said Ricky.
“Soldier!” said Ricky’s dad. “Explain yourself, right now!”
Ricky stood at attention.
It all started when we went over to Gus’s house to see if he wanted to go bike riding or something. His mom told us that he was really sick and had to stay home. I asked if we could see him. She said it wasn’t a good idea, because she didn’t want us to get sick, too.