Dory and the Real True Friend

by Abby Hanlon

  “Um . . . um . . . I don’t know . . . ,” I say. “I never thought about it. She has a cave.”

  “You never thought about it??” Rosabelle gasps. “This is about injustice! We’ll have to free them! I bet her cave is full of prisoners! It’s up to US to save them! We need a plan. A real plan. We can’t take any risks. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life spinning gold in a cave, or whatever!”

  Then she starts talking even faster. “It’s too bad my dragon is so injured right now, but I can gather some knights when I get home from school . . .

  “and we need to make a map of the woods to locate her cave,

  and I’ll get my horse . . .

  and see if I can find my sword . . . and . . .

  . . . and . . . lemon juice!” she suddenly shouts. “We’ll need your lemon juice!”

  And then recess is over.

  That afternoon during math time, I whisper to Rosabelle, “There’s one more thing I have to tell you. I have a fairy godmother named Mr. Nuggy, and he accidentally turned into a chicken.”

  “Oh! That same thing happened to my fairy godmother once!” whispers Rosabelle.

  “Hey! What are you guys talking about?” asks George. “Chicken? Raise your hand if you love chicken!”

  That night at dinner, my dad asks me, “Dory, what happened at school today?”

  “Rosabelle and I planned a war!” I shout.

  “Thank God it’s Friday,” says my mom.

  CHAPTER 6

  In the Woods

  It’s Saturday morning and I just want to stay home in my nightgown, but my dad drags us to the park.

  As soon as we get there, I hang on my dad and whine, “Can we go home now?”

  “No,” he says. “Go play.”

  Instead, I ask him questions. Any question I can think of.

  “Can’t you just go on the swings?” asks my dad.

  I wait for the swings. And wait. And wait. And wait. Every time I’m about to get a swing, a big kid races up and gets it before me.

  Ugh! Big kids.

  I guess I’ll go dig in the sandbox. But right away I dig to the bottom. I hit wood. “I guess there’s nowhere left to go,” I grumble.

  Next, I try to go down the slide, but this giant toddler with a gross runny nose keeps running up the slide.

  “Can you move, please?” I ask him a million times. “MOVE! Or you are going to get hit when I go down!”

  After a couple of times crashing into him face-to-face, I worry that I could catch his runny nose. Yuck. Forget this slide.

  Luke is running around chasing pigeons with a stick. And Violet is with her friends. Violet always has friends at the park.

  “Now can we go home?” I ask my dad. But he’s reading a book and not listening to me.

  That’s when I see a chicken over there by that tree. I crawl to the other side of the bench to get a better look.

  “Hey, Dad, I’m going to play right near those trees over there,” I say.

  “Okay,” he says. “Don’t go too far.”

  I’m really good at pretending I’m far away, when I’m not.

  “Mr. Nuggy! Are you okay?” I say, picking up the chicken and kissing him. He’s soooooo cute as a chicken!

  “Bok!” he says.

  “How did you get free?” I ask. But it’s true, all he can do is bok.

  “How do I turn you back into my fairy godmother?”

  “Bok! Bok!”

  “Right! You need your magic wand! Where is it?”

  He points deep into the woods.

  “Okay,” I say, “let’s go find it.”

  We walk through the woods for hours.

  Along the way, many animals stop to greet us.

  Then I see a mysterious girl coming toward me through the woods. She is wearing a long fancy dress with a tall pointy hat with ribbons hanging down. As she gets closer, I see that she is carrying a wooden sword and eating an apple.

  It’s Rosabelle.

  When she sees me, she smiles for a second and then she starts screaming, “Help! Help! This apple is poisonous. I’m slowly dying!” And then she falls to the ground.

  “I’m dying, I’m dying,” she says, and makes lots of creepy dying sounds. “Uuugg-hhhh, Eeee-uuu . . . ”

  “Who gave you the apple?” I ask.

  “Kkk-hhhhhggg . . . a very old woman,” she says in a weak voice I can barely hear. Her eyes are closed.

  “What did she look like?” I ask.

  “She had a black bun, a big collar, and evil eyebrows. She had teeth as sharp as scissors . . . a nose as long as a broomstick . . . a cape as dark as midnight.”

  I try to imagine who this could be.

  And then I realize, “Stupid me! You mean Mrs. Gobble Gracker!”

  “Yes, her,” Rosabelle says. “I was on my way to my cottage in the woods, and my dragon was so tired he fell asleep under a tree, and I was all alone, and suddenly I was caught in this big horrible net! Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s trap!”

  “Of course!” I say, remembering that Mrs. Gobble Gracker wanted a princess. “She captured you! That explains why she freed Mr. Nuggy!”

  “Anyway,” says Rosabelle, “she seemed a little nice at first, because she offered me this apple. It looked so red and juicy, but as soon as I took a tiny bite, I started to feel my ears getting hot, my toes very itchy, and my heart was sweating! And I knew right away that I WAS DYING.”

  “Wow! Mrs. Gobble Gracker is deadlier than I thought!” I say. “How did she make a poison apple spell?”

  That’s when Mr. Nuggy starts bokking his head off, flapping his wings, and getting all big and puffy. He is trying to tell me something.

  He boks so hard he actually throws up.

  Poor guy.

  And then I suddenly figure out what he is trying to tell me.

  “Because she stole your magic wand! That’s how!!” I yell.

  “BOK!” he says, jumping back onto his feet.

  “How did she get your wand?” I ask.

  “Bok! Bok!”

  “Because you’re a chicken and you have no hands or cool belt holder anymore?”

  “BOK!”

  “Awwww, it’s okay. I’ll get it back,” I say petting him.

  “Come on, we’ve got to go,” I tell Rosabelle. “I can reverse the spell, but I’ll need the magic wand. And the only way to get it is to battle Mrs. Gobble Gracker for it. We’ve got to find her cave!”

  In her weak voice, Rosabelle says, “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I know you’re dying, but can you get up?”

  “Can you come with me? Can you walk a little?”

  “Just a little,” she says, barely able to breathe.

  And that’s when we discover Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s footprints.

  CHAPTER 7

  Launched into Battle

  We follow Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s pointy footprints into a creepy bat cave, through a giant spiderweb, and into a thick dark forest. . . .

  I clear a path through the forest by chopping down little trees and branches with Rosabelle’s sword.

  On the other side of the forest, we find Mrs. Gobble Gracker sitting by a fire. From behind the bushes, Rosabelle waves quietly to the prisoners who are peeking out of the cave.

  “What should we do now?” I whisper to Rosabelle.

  “Well, I’m dying,” she whispers. “So, YOU jump out with the sword.”

  “I need to look scary,” I say.

  “That’s easy,” she says.

  Behind the bushes, Rosabelle rubs some mud on my face and arms.

  “How about this?” I whisper, putting my shirt over my head, which makes my hair stick straight up.

  �
��How about this?” she says, and then mushes up my hair even more and throws a bunch of pine needles in it.

  “Now you look like a super freak!” she laughs. “Come here, I’ll launch you.”

  I’ve never been launched before!

  “Wait. Just in case we need it, I’ve got lemon juice,” Rosabelle says.

  Then she ducks down low and pushes me in the butt, hard.

  I’M LAUNCHED!

  I land on my feet.

  “Dory?” says Mrs. Gobble Gracker. “Is that you?”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “Not me.”

  I forgot how easy it is to trick her.

  “Well, whoever you are, did you come for Violet’s doll?”

  “Nobody cares about that doll anymore. Not even Violet. I came for the wand,” I say.

  “Ha-ha! Good luck with that!” she says.

  Mrs. Gobble Gracker pulls out her own sword. Bigger, shinier, and sharper.

  But with one ninja slash from me, and a squirt of lemon juice in the eye from Rosabelle, Mrs. Gobble Gracker is blinded and her cape catches on fire.

  “Remember when I asked you if she has helpers?” says Rosabelle, clenching her teeth.

  Rosabelle’s dragon leads the knights to our rescue and together we fight a wild and crazy battle.

  And lose.

  But nobody thought to tie up a chicken.

  Mr. Nuggy runs into the cave . . .

  grabs the wand and . . . chicken no more.

  Mr. Nuggy quickly unties us and then frees the prisoners.

  After our escape, everyone runs home, except us. Now that Mr. Nuggy is finally back to himself, we laugh really hard that he was a chicken. Hilarious!

  Then Mr. Nuggy reverses Rosabelle’s poison spell.

  “Now hop around on one foot, and sneeze two times, and bend your elbows back like this,” he tells her.

  “How can I hop around on one foot when I’m dying? Okay, fine!” says Rosabelle. “And by the way, nice hat.”

  “You too,” he says.

  As soon as the spell is reversed, Rosabelle says, “Uh-oh. Did you hear a noise? Listen!”

  I hear Violet calling me from the playground. “Rascal! Come on! We’re leaving! It’s starting to rain.”

  “Oh no!” I say. “I wish we were still tied up.”

  “I know,” says Rosabelle, wiping dirt off my face. “But we better go.”

  We say good-bye to Mr. Nuggy, since he lives in the woods anyway. Before he leaves, he whispers to me, “The pancake recipe was too complicated. I can’t . . .”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “School’s not THAT bad.”

  “It was nice to meet you,” Rosabelle says to Mr. Nuggy.

  Rosabelle and I walk back into the playground.

  “This is my best friend, Rosabelle,” I say, introducing her to Luke and Violet.

  Their mouths drop open in disbelief.

  “Huh???” says Luke.

  “Rosabelle??” says Violet.

  “Rosabelle, come on! We’re leaving, too.”

  “I’m coming, Daddy!” calls Rosabelle.

  Her dad definitely does not look like a king.

  “Bye, Rascal!” waves Rosabelle. “See you on Monday!!”

  Luke and Violet stare at Rosabelle as she walks off holding her daddy’s hand.

  Then they look at me.

  “Told you,” I say.

  “And then what happened?” asks Mary.

  “After the princess was saved from Mrs. Gobble Gracker’s spell, all the creatures in the woods cheered with joy,” I say. “The prisoners went home to their mushroom houses. The woods was a peaceful place again. And I was a hero.”

  “Wow! Tell it again,” says Mary.

  abby hanlon taught first grade in the New York City public school system. Inspired by her students’ storytelling and drawings, Abby began to write her own stories for children. Her first book was Ralph Tells a Story. Her second book, Dory Fantasmagory, has been called “amazing,” “inventive,” “entertaining,” “charming,” “one-of-a-kind,” and “rib-tickling” —all by different reviewers.

  Abby lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and their two children.

  www.abbyhanlon.com

  Looking for more?

  Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.

  Discover your next great read!