Dory and the Real True Friend

by Abby Hanlon

  She does not.

  After school, we line up to wait for our parents. My mom comes first.

  She holds my hand and we walk toward the school yard gate. But a few steps away, I realize, I just have to tell Rosabelle. I just have to.

  “BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!!!” I shout, jumping up and down. She smiles.

  My mom says to me, “Really? You have a best friend already?”

  “Yes, I do! I do! A real true friend!”

  “What is her name?”

  “Um???”

  Oh gosh . . . what was her name? Something beautiful, but I JUST forgot it. Was it Annabelle? Rosebud? Roseblossom?

  “Oh, I don’t remember,” I say. “What’s my best friend’s name again?”

  CHAPTER 3

  Chicken Soup

  By the time I get home from school, Rosabelle’s name has popped right back into my head. This time it stays forever.

  “Did you hear about my best friend Rosabelle?” I ask Luke and Violet.

  “About ten times already,” says Violet.

  “Well, she’s extremely poufy. And she doesn’t have a lot of teeth. And she wears a crown!”

  “Not another monster!” says Luke.

  “Forget it,” I say angrily.

  I wait until he walks away and then I jump on top of him.

  “Rascal!” he yells, but then laughs . . . because it was such a good surprise attack.

  And then we wrestle, and then he drags me around on the floor . . . my favorite.

  When Luke gets bored playing with me, I go upstairs to my room. I open the door and I am shocked. The floor is covered in paper. It looks like Mary’s been making rows and rows of letters all day.

  “I’m practicing the alphabet! Look at these s’s! See how good I would be at school? Don’t you think you should bring me?” she says, holding up pages and pages of s’s.

  “I love my s’s so much, I’m going to save them to show my children one day.”

  “I’m not sure . . . ,” I tell her, “but I think those s’s are all backward.”

  She falls over in disappointment.

  “Come on, get up,” I say. “Stop moping around. What else happened today while I was gone?”

  “I played school with all the monsters. I was the teacher!”

  “No wonder it’s such a mess in here,” I say. “They listened to you?” I ask her.

  “Mostly,” she says.

  “Okay, what else happened?” I ask her.

  “Mr. Nuggy called lots of times,” she says.

  “Mr. Nuggy called me? That’s not how it’s supposed to go! I’m supposed to call him! He’s MY fairy godmother,” I say.

  “Well, he said he had an emergency.”

  “What kind of emergency could he have? I’m the one with emergencies!”

  “I don’t know, I couldn’t understand him. He was bokking.”

  “Bokking? What the heck does that mean?”

  “And it sounded like bokking from a cave or something. There was an echo.”

  “A cave??” Why would he be in a cave? “Quick, give me a banana.”

  “It’s ringing. . . . Shh. . . . Hello?”

  “DoryDoryDory . . . ,” says an evil voice. “I knew you would call.” I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Mrs. Gobble Gracker?! Why do you have Mr. Nuggy’s phone? Where is he?” I shout.

  “Well . . . I ran into him in the woods the other day. He was trying to do some magic helping YOU, I guess, but he accidentally turned himself into a chicken. Now he’s stuck. YOU KNOW how that happens. Well, I have some water boiling . . . it is getting to be dinnertime, and YOU KNOW how much I love soup . . . chicken soup.”

  “Mr. Nuggy is a chicken?” I scream into the phone.

  “OH NOOOOOO! HE’S NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO TURN MY SCHOOL INTO A PANCAKE NOW! DON’T EAT MY FAIRY GODMOTHER!”

  “What are you doing?” Violet suddenly appears in my doorway. “Please tell me you aren’t playing Mrs. Gobble Gracker,” she says.

  “I’m in the middle of an important call,” I tell Violet in my dead serious voice.

  “Okay, fine,” she says, turning away. “I guess you don’t want to talk about school . . . or Rosabelle.”

  “Wait, I do,” I say, and drop the banana.

  “So, did you play with Rosabelle at recess?” she asks.

  “Uh-huh,” I say, even though it’s not true. “It was really fun.”

  “What did you guys play?” she asks.

  “We played . . . um . . . Mermaid . . . Puppies,” I say the first two words that pop into my head.

  “Mermaid Puppies . . . ” she says. “Huh.”

  Maybe Violet has a feeling that I’m not telling the truth, because then she says, “You should plan your outfit for tomorrow. Wear something that Rosabelle will like.”

  “Okay, good idea,” I say.

  As soon as Violet leaves, I pick up the banana again. This time I whisper. “Hello, are you still there? Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “It was very rude,” says Mrs. Gobble Gracker.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  “What are Mermaid Puppies?” she asks.

  “What? You could hear that? I don’t know what Mermaid Puppies are! That’s not the point of this conversation! Listen, please don’t eat Mr. Nuggy. I beg you. I’ll give you anything. Just tell me, what do you want?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she says. “I’ll let you know.”

  “When?” I say. “I need to know when!”

  But she has already hung up.

  Without Mr. Nuggy, I’m on my own. And now Mary is so jealous of Rosabelle, she is having a fit.

  So I have nothing left to do but wait for Mrs. Gobble Gracker to call back. And plan my outfit . . .

  CHAPTER 4

  Get Out of the Sticky Frogs!

  The next morning, I wake up early because I need time to put on my outfit.

  When I come down for breakfast, Violet says, “Why do you look weird?”

  “No, I don’t,” I say, deciding it would be better not to tell her.

  “You look . . . all bunchy,” she says.

  “And your butt looks big,” says Luke.

  “And you’re sweating,” says Violet.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lie.

  When I get to school, I tell Rosabelle, “Just wait till recess, I have a new secret for you.”

  “Is it recess yet?” I ask my teacher.

  “No, honey,” she says. “We just got here. Come to the rug for circle time.”

  During circle time, I have to wait forever and forever for my turn to speak. Everyone in this class has something to say!

  I wait and wait for my turn to speak, and while I’m waiting I’m imagining that all the kids on the rug are newborn hamsters.

  I snap out of it when it’s Rosabelle’s turn.

  “Your stuffed animal?” says the teacher. “How cute.”

  “NO,” says Rosabelle, shaking her head with a frown and then staring at the teacher as if the teacher is totally crazy. After a long silence, she says, “He flew into a hedge of thorns trying to save me.”

  Dragon??? Hedge of thorns? What is she talking about??

  “Oh? Okay,” says the teacher. “Very cute. Moving on . . . Dory, what did you want to say?”

  “Um . . . um . . . ,” Of course, now I forgot.

  “That’s okay, just tell us when you remember,” says the teacher.

  But there is no way I am going to lose my turn to speak! So I say the first thing I can think of. “I have a great game we could play today!”

  “Can we pretend that all the kids are baby hamsters and you are tryin
g to catch us and put us in a suitcase?”

  My teacher says, “Uhhhh. . . . That sounds like a very fun game you could play at recess today, Dory.”

  “Well, if Rosabelle wants to . . . ,” I say, looking at her.

  But she doesn’t look like she wants to.

  The teacher smiles and says, “Does anybody else have something to share this morning?”

  George raises his hand and says, “I would like to be a baby hamster named Marvin.”

  At lunch I can barely talk to Rosabelle because George won’t stop talking about the hamster game. “Let’s be hamsters with really bad manners! And we eat garbage! And we are hiding from the police! The police want to capture all the hamsters and sell us to make hamster burgers! Raise your hand if you hate hamster burgers!” George says raising his hand.

  “Gross!” I say, but it does sound kind of fun.

  Finally it’s recess.

  “Ready for my secret?” I say to Rosabelle. I show her my nine pairs of underwear, three pairs of leggings, four shirts, and three pairs of socks.

  “Now we are like twins!” I say. “We both have secret clothes!”

  “Hmmm . . . ,” she says, studying me carefully. “So you’re padded. . . . Is it for protection? Is it like armor?”

  I don’t know how to answer that. “Well, it could be.”

  “Rosabelle! Come on!” The hopscotch girls are calling again.

  “They were in my class last year,” she says to me before they pull her away.

  I take off three sweaty shirts. Then I follow her to the hopscotch game.

  “Be careful!” I yell. “That square is full of dead sharks! Don’t jump on the dead sharks!”

  Rosabelle jumps to the next square. “Holy moly! Now you are stepping in sticky frogs! Get out of the sticky frogs!” Rosabelle loses her balance and lands in another square.

  “AHHH!! Bubbling hot lava!! Jump out! Jump out! Quick!” I yell.

  All the girls stop and look at me.

  They keep looking at me.

  “Do you want to play?” one of the girls asks me.

  “Not really,” I say. And I run away.

  I wander around the school yard and watch what everyone else is playing.

  There are girls galloping like horses.

  There are kids playing house, but their house burned down and now they are all fighting.

  George and some kids are playing hamsters.

  Mary is doing her exercises.

  Mary???!! What is she doing here?? I stomp over to her. “What are you doing here?” I ask angrily.

  “Don’t you want to exercise?” she says.

  “Okay, just this once,” I say. “But then go home!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Ring, Ring, Ring!

  That afternoon, we have drawing time. Instead of starting my picture, I watch what Rosabelle draws. A big huge scaly dragon.

  “Do you really have a dragon?” I ask her.

  “Of course, I do,” she says. “He’s such a baby, though, and he always gets hurt. He even bumps into walls in the castle.”

  “You live in a castle?” I ask her.

  “Where else would I live?” she asks. “Although I do have a little cottage in the woods when I need to hide.”

  “Do you have an underground base? I do!” says George. “Raise your hand if you have an underground hamster base!” he says, raising his hand.

  I ignore George and ask Rosabelle, “Hide from what?”

  “You know . . . creepy old witches, that kind of thing,” says Rosabelle.

  “Dory, aren’t you going to draw something?” asks the teacher, looking at my blank paper.

  “Dory,” she says, “can you hear me?

  “Dory . . . ? Are you there, Dory . . . ?”

  After school, I rush straight to my room to get all my layers off and put my nightgown on and find out if I got any phone calls while I was gone.

  “She didn’t call yet?” I say. “Ugh! And I already told you! You don’t have to raise your hand at home!”

  Mary wants to come to school with me so badly that she’s been raising her hand whenever she wants to speak.

  All afternoon, she won’t stop practicing for school.

  She is quiet in the hallways.

  She even waits in line for the bathroom.

  Since Mary is driving me crazy, I’m happy when Luke and Violet finally come home from their friend’s house.

  “Guess what? I have BIG HUMONGOUS NEWS!” I tell them. “Rosabelle has a dragon! And she lives in a castle! I’m dead serious.”

  “See,” Luke says to Violet. “I told you Rascal made Rosabelle up.”

  “What? I did not make her up! She is a real girl in my class! She sits next to me!”

  “Is she real in the same way Mary is real?” asks Violet.

  “Yes!” I say.

  Mary smiles proudly.

  “What does your teacher say when you talk to Rosabelle at school?” asks Luke.

  “She says, ‘Girls, please be quiet!’”

  Luke laughs at this.

  “Do you play with anyone else at recess besides Rosabelle?” asks Violet.

  “Well, I only play with Rosabelle sort of because she mostly likes to play hopscotch,” I admit.

  “Your imaginary friend doesn’t even want to play with you!” Luke bursts out laughing again.

  “I ALREADY TOLD YOU!!! ROSABELLE IS NOT IMAGINARY!!!!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  As I stomp out of the room in tears, Luke and Violet are still laughing. I hear Violet say, “Well, she told me they play Mermaid Puppies.” Then I hear a loud thud. Luke must have laughed so hard he rolled off the couch. Like Mermaid Puppies is the funniest thing they’ve ever heard in their life.

  I cry so hard that my whole room fills up with tears. Why are Luke and Violet such jerks? And what is so great about hopscotch? Will Rosabelle ever play with me? And where is Mr. Nuggy when I need him most?

  “Maybe Rosabelle isn’t my real true friend after all,” I cry to Mary. “Maybe I’ll never have a friend. Maybe Luke and Violet are right.”

  Mary pets my head while I cry.

  “You can come to school with me tomorrow,” I say, sobbing and sniffling.

  “No thanks,” she says.

  “WHAT?” I say.

  “I think I like playing school better than actually going.”

  “Ma-rrrrry! After all that begging? Errrr. But I need you now. I have no one to play with,” I cry.

  “I bet tomorrow Rosabelle will play with you,” she says.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “Just be yourself,” she says.

  So that’s what I do.

  The next day at lunch, I sit next to Rosabelle. It’s not easy to get a seat next to her, with the hopscotch girls around.

  I open my lunch box and I AM SHOCKED to discover that my mom packed my phone!! Why would she pack my phone? What was she thinking? Oh my goodness,

  WHAT IF IT RINGS?

  Please please please don’t let it ring.

  Uh-oh.

  I have to answer it. If I don’t answer it, Mr. Nuggy will be chicken soup.

  “Hello?”

  “Dory, how are you?” asks Mrs. Gobble Gracker.

  “Fine,” I say, looking around the noisy cafeteria. I have to cover the other ear so I can hear her.

  “I’ve decided what I want,” she says.

  “It’s about time!”

  “I will free Mr. Nuggy if you can get me what I want.”

  “Yes, anything,” I say.

  “I want a princess.”

  “A princess? Where am I going to get a . . .” And then I look over at Rosabelle, cu
tting her grapes in half and eating them with a fork.

  I do some quick math in my head.

  “No problem!” I say, smiling, because I’m certain that Rosabelle is going to love this game! I hang up. “Meet me on the playground,” I say to Rosabelle in my dead serious voice. “You’re in danger and it’s top secret.”

  “Really?” she says, her eyes suddenly lit up like fireworks. She quickly packs up her lunch and I can barely keep up with her out the door to the playground.

  Rosabelle screams SOOOOO LOUD when I tell her about Mrs. Gobble Gracker that the hopscotch girls cover their ears and run away.

  “Tell me everything,” says Rosabelle. “And I mean everything.”

  “Well, she has pointy teeth, a black cape, a long nose, sharp black nails, crooked shoes, a creepy bun . . .

  Rosabelle walks back and forth, thinking. She looks very serious. For a long time, she doesn’t say anything.

  Finally, she opens her mouth to speak.

  “We’ll have to go to war,” she says.

  “War???” I say.

  “Do you have a horse?”

  “Um . . . ”

  “You need a horse! We have to be prepared to fight. This war isn’t just about us. This is about protecting the whole kingdom. Who else is on Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s side?”

  “I don’t think anybody. . . . I’ve never seen anyone else but . . . ”

  “She is definitely not working alone! I’m sure she has helpers. How many prisoners has she already taken? And where are they all?” asks Rosabelle.