Megabat Is a Fraidybat

by Anna Humphrey

  Text copyright © 2020 by Anna Humphrey

  Illustrations copyright © 2020 by Kass Reich

  Tundra Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada Young Readers, a Penguin Random House Company

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher—or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency—is an infringement of the copyright law.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Title: Fraidybat / Anna Humphrey ; Kass Reich, illustrator.

  Names: Humphrey, Anna, author. | Reich, Kass, illustrator.

  Series: Humphrey, Anna. Megabat (Series)

  Description: Series statement: Megabat

  Identifiers: Canadiana (print) 20190143754 | Canadiana (ebook) 20190143762 | ISBN 9780735266025 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780735266032 (EPUB)

  Classification: LCC PS8615.U457 F73 2020 | DDC jC813/.6—dc23

  Published simultaneously in the United States of America by Tundra Books of Northern New York, an imprint of Penguin Random House Canada Young Readers, a Penguin Random House Company

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019944755

  Edited by Samantha Swenson

  Book design by John Martz, adapted for ebook

  The artwork in this book was rendered in graphite.

  www.penguinrandomhouse.ca

  v5.4

  a

  For Grace and Elliot:

  two of the bravest kids I know

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1: A Wildwood Welcome

  2: The Big Yellow Bus

  3: Irwin Appleman

  4: Fruit Pops and Other Funs

  5: The Ghost Story

  6: The Wild Bats

  7: Fraidy-Bat

  8: The Pranks

  9: The Fearsome Forest

  10: The Final Prank

  A Little Bit about Bats

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  A WILDWOOD WELCOME

  It was the second week of summer vacation, and Daniel, who’d just flopped down on the grass in his backyard, groaned.

  “Justing one more!” Megabat urged. The little fruit bat perched on his friend’s forehead and leaned over to peer into his eyes. “Peeeeeze!”

  “Oh, okay.” Daniel gave in. “But this is the last one.”

  They were playing Would You Rather? It was a game the friends normally used for long, dull waits…like when Daniel’s parents stood in line at the bank. You had to say two choices, then each player decided which one was best…or least-bad.

  “It’s being Birdgirl’s turn.” Megabat gazed at his beloved—a pretty-pretty pigeon who shared the backyard shed with him.

  She scratched thoughtfully at the ground with one foot, like she was trying to come up with a good one, then bobbed her head when she had it. She pecked at something in the grass. “Coo-woo?” She pecked at something else. “Ooo coo-woo?”

  Megabat translated. “Hers is saying, ‘Would yours rather snack on this tiny rock or this dryish bit of grass?’ ”

  “Seriously?” Daniel rolled his eyes. “That’s the same question she asked last time!”

  “Nonetrue! Last time hers ask-ded if yours would rather snack on a bit of poppy-corn floating in a puddle or swallowings a lump of dirt.”

  Daniel sighed. “Well, all her questions are about eating stuff off the ground.”

  It was true. Ground-food was Birdgirl’s favorite.

  “This is getting kind of boring.” Daniel yawned.

  Even Megabat couldn’t really disagree. The friends had been looking forward to summer holidays for ages, but it had only taken a few days for them to finish everything on the “Big List of Such-Fun Stuff to Do” that they’d made during the last week of school.

  They’d started by re-watching all the Star Wars movies—twice—then moved on to drinking strawberry Jell-O through a straw; taking fashion photos of Priscilla, Daniel’s purebred cat; seeing how many letters of the alphabet they could burp before they ran out of breath; and finding out how refreshing it would be if they filled water balloons with lemonade. (“More stickier than roofreshing,” Megabat had concluded.)

  Talia, their friend who lived next door, was at horseback riding camp all day, and now they were even bored of playing the game they played when they were bored. Things were looking glum.

  Megabat sighed heavily, then began to make a pop-pop-pop sound with his lips. He’d taught himself this noise the week before. It made a satisfying smack and helped to pass the time.

  “Would you stop that?” Daniel said after a minute, clearly annoyed.

  “Oka-hay, fine!” Megabat rolled off Daniel’s forehead into the grass. “Perhapsing ours could read Diamond Foot,” the bat suggested. Diamond Foot was the world’s most valuable graphic novel superhero—and not just because his right foot was made of a flawless one-thousand-carat diamond. He wore a cool costume, stomped out bad guys wherever he found them and put his foot down firmly in the face of injustice.

  He even had his own catchphrase: “A brilliant hero has zero fear-o!” Oh, the action! The adventure! The twinkly-twinkly toes! Megabat loved reading that book with Daniel.

  “It’s a great story,” Daniel said, “but we’ve already read it. Sixteen hundred times. We should wait until the new one comes out at the end of the month.”

  “That’s being zeons away!” Megabat whined.

  Daniel didn’t pay any attention. He was busy staring at the clouds. “I wish something exciting would happen,” he said idly.

  And, just then, something did happen—but whether it was exciting or terrible was a matter of opinion.

  “There you are!” Daniel’s dad came out the back door. “I’ve got a special delivery for you.”

  Quick as a flash, Megabat ducked under Daniel’s baseball cap, which had been left lying on the grass. He always had to stay out of sight when grown-ups were around. Some of them screamed or chased him with a broom.

  Daniel’s dad crossed the grass, and Megabat peered out from under the cap to see the delivery: a big flat yellow envelope with writing on it.

  “A letter?” Daniel sat up. “For me? I never get mail. Who’s it from?”

  Daniel’s dad handed it over with a smile. “Open it and see.”

  Daniel ripped the envelope open and pulled out a glossy folder. Megabat had to crane his neck a little to see. It had pictures of pointy trees on the front.

  “Welcome to Camp Wildwood,” Daniel read. “Camp Wildwood?”

  “Mom and I wanted to surprise you. So…surprise!” his father said. “It’s your welcome package. You’re going to sleepaway camp! At Camp Wildwood on the shores of beautiful Lake Pinecrest.”

  Megabat could see that Daniel’s eyes had gone wide with panic.

  “You know about Wildwood!” Daniel’s dad went on. “The camp I went to when I was your age.”

  “The one with the outhouses? And the giant spiders?” Daniel’s lip trembled.

  “Well, sure. There was the odd spider in the outhouses…but they’ve got indoor plumbing now. I met some of my best friends there. It’s also where I did my first archery lesson. And where I learned to skip stones and do a loon call.�
�

  Daniel’s father cupped his hands around his mouth and flapped his fingers. It made an echoey whistle that rose and fell, rose and fell. The sound reminded Megabat of the bright-beaked birds in the jungles of Borneo where he’d been born.

  “And remember the funny story about the underpants and the flagpole?” Daniel’s father smiled fondly.

  Megabat thought that sounded like a great story.

  Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to go.”

  “How do you know? You haven’t tried it yet,” his father said reasonably.

  “I won’t know anyone. And there’ll be bugs!”

  Bugs! Megabat began to make a list in his head of his favorites. Ladybugs were a cheerful reddish color. Potato bugs curled into little balls when you poked them, and he loved the sproing of a good grasshopper. What other bugs might be at camp, he wondered.

  “That’s what bug spray’s for,” Daniel’s dad said. “And you’ll make friends before you know it. You’ll see,” he promised. “Sleepaway camp is the adventure of a lifetime.”

  “I HATE adventures!” Daniel yelled.

  “Just take a look, okay?” Daniel’s dad pointed to the folder. “We’ll talk about it more later.”

  As soon as Daniel’s dad went inside, Megabat climbed out from under the hat and came to perch on his friend’s shoulder. “Opening it!” he urged.

  The first sheet had pictures of boats, marshmallows on sticks, and kids painting birdhouses. It said “Activities and Crafts.” Underneath was a paper marked “Your Cabin.” It showed two kids sitting on top of a double-decker bed. The last sheet said “Food.” There was a grown-up lady in a tall white hat and children gathered at long tables. Megabat liked that one best of all. “Ooooooh!” He drooled over a photo of a girl eating a big slice of melon.

  Suddenly, Daniel threw the folder onto the grass and began to cry.

  Megabat peered at his friend curiously for a moment, then he used his long tongue to lick away the tears. “Why is yours mad and sad?” he asked gently.

  “I’m not mad and sad.” Daniel said, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I’m scared.”

  “For why?”

  “For camp. It’s going to be awful.”

  Megabat didn’t understand. “But camp is being the adventure of a livingtime!”

  Daniel wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, leaving dirty smudges. “That’s just what parents say to trick you into going. I’ve seen camp on TV and read about it in books. I’ll have to sleep in a leaky old cabin. They’ll feed me gray slop for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And, worst of all, I’ll be all alone.” Daniel dissolved into shuddery sobs.

  “No yours won’t.” Megabat spread his wings wide. “Because Megabat will alsowise be adventuring to Camp Wildwood on the shores of Lake PieCrust!”

  “You will?”

  “Undoubtedly!”

  Megabat went almost everywhere with Daniel. Plus, surely the camp Daniel knew from TV and books was a different one altogether. As far as Megabat could tell, it sounded nothing like the pictures in the folder or the place Daniel’s father had described.

  “Making craftses! Riding boatses! Catching bugses! Ours will be having such much fun,” the little bat promised. “Yours will see.” He licked one last tear, then put his wingtips on his hips and stuck out his chest in a super-pose, just like Diamond Foot. “Nonething is fearsome when Megabat’s nearsome!”

  THE BIG YELLOW BUS

  Even though Megabat kept reminding Daniel that camp would be fun, when leaving day came, Daniel was still scared.

  “Birdgirl and I made you guys a care package.” Talia from next door had come over to say goodbye.

  “Miew!” Priscilla the cat wound around Talia’s ankles and glared up at her indignantly.

  “And Priscilla helped by suggesting that we add the sparkly bow,” Talia added. She leaned down to scratch the cat’s ears before handing Daniel a box with a big, glittery ribbon on top. “It’s got puzzle books, candy, juice boxes, glow-in-the-dark eyeball stickers and stamps so you can write letters to us if you have time.”

  “Coo-woo,” cried Birdgirl. The pigeon was perched on a tree branch near the front door. “Coo-woooooo.”

  “Mine will missing yours alsowise, Birdgirl. But ours will be home in justing one week with new friends and adventuresome stories to tell.” Megabat repeated the things Daniel’s parents kept saying. “Rights, Daniel?”

  “Maybe.” Daniel sighed. “If we don’t drown in the leech-infested lake or get poisoned by the food first.”

  “Okay.” Daniel’s mother closed the trunk of the car. “Time to go, sweetie.”

  Megabat gave Birdgirl a peck on the cheek, Daniel pet the cat and waved miserably to Talia, and the friends got into the backseat. While they drove, Daniel’s parents talked about the greatness and fun-ness of camp. Megabat—hidden inside the cup holder—listened, getting more and more excited, but Daniel just stared out the window. Finally, they pulled into a big lot. It was empty except for a few cars and a bunch of families standing around with luggage.

  “This must be the spot!” Daniel’s mother popped the trunk and got out.

  Megabat frowned. It didn’t look like the pictures. Where were the little log cabins and sailboats? There was a large puddle where the pavement dipped. Could that be beautiful Lake PieCrust?

  “Don’t worry,” Daniel said, noticing Megabat’s confusion. “This isn’t camp.”

  Megabat followed Daniel’s gaze. Turning into the parking lot was a big yellow bus!

  Megabat couldn’t contain his excitement. “Ours is riddening a school bus to camp?!”

  “Yup,” Daniel said miserably. “It’s going to take us a million miles from civilization.”

  After many hugs, a few photos and some fresh tears, it was time to board. With Megabat tucked into his pocket, Daniel joined a lineup of laughing, jostling children.

  When it was their turn to climb the stairs, the bus driver gave Daniel a big smile. “First time at camp?” he asked.

  Daniel, whose eyes were still red from crying, nodded.

  “Tell you what,” the driver said. “A week from now, I’ll be bringing you home. If you can tell me ten things you did that were fun, I’ll give you this bobblehead.”

  Megabat peered out to see a figurine on the dashboard. It was an Ewok—a character from Star Wars that looks like a teddy bear. When the bus driver touched its head, it danced in a delightful wibbly-wobbly way. Megabat had never wanted anything so badly before!

  “Sure,” Daniel muttered. “But I can tell you right now, you’ll end up keeping it.”

  “We’ll see about that.” The driver winked, then turned to salute the next kid getting on the bus.

  Daniel walked down the aisle, past the rows of tall, dark-green benches. He picked one and sank down. As the other kids filed on, they took the seats around him, but nobody sat next to Daniel—which was just as well because Megabat was much too excited to stay quiet.

  “Mine has longly dreamed of riddening a school bus.” He hung over the edge of Daniel’s pocket to see out the window. “Is ours leaving yet?”

  “Shhhh. Not yet, Megabat. You’ll feel it when the bus starts, okay?”

  “All aboard!” the driver called merrily. “Next stop, Camp Wildwood!”

  Like a sleeping dragon, the bus roared to life.

  “Wahoooo!” Megabat cried in glee.

  The bus lurched forward, then backed up and lurched again. Daniel clutched his stomach. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

  Meanwhile, Megabat was having the time of his life. “Wheeeeeeeee!” he shouted as he flailed back and forth.

  “Huh?” A boy with dark, curly hair turned around in the seat in front of them. Daniel only just managed to push Megabat’s head down into the pocket in time. “Did you say something?”


  “Oh…um…,” Daniel answered nervously. “Not really.”

  The bus pulled out of the lot, turning sharply and sending the kids sliding on their green benches.

  “Oh,” the boy said. “I thought you were yelling wheeeeee!” He shrugged and turned back in his seat, but a moment later the bus took another sudden turn.

  “Wahooooo! Ours is out of controooool!”

  The curly-haired boy turned again. He pointed to Daniel’s shirt pocket. “Okay, maybe you didn’t say anything. But your talking bat sure loves school buses.”

  IRWIN APPLEMAN

  The boy’s name was Irwin.

  “Irwin Appleman.” He held out a hand.

  “Daniel,” Daniel answered, shaking it uncertainly.

  Irwin checked to make sure the driver wasn’t watching, then he grabbed his backpack, swung around and slid into the seat beside Daniel. “Don’t worry,” Irwin whispered. “I won’t tell anyone there’s a bat on the bus, or that it can talk. Some kids would freak out. Like Devan Baker. Last summer a butterfly landed on him and he nearly fainted.”

  Megabat liked Irwin Appleman—and not just because his name sounded like a fruit. He had a confident, no-nonsense way about him that made him seem trustworthy.

  “And what’s your name, little guy?” Irwin held out the tip of a pinky finger for Megabat to shake, which Megabat did, feeling very important indeed.

  “Mine’s Megabat,” the bat said, with a little bow. “Nicely to meet yours.”

  “It’s—um—nicely to meet yours too.” Irwin flashed a silvery smile.

  “Ooooooh!” Megabat was dazzled. He motioned with one wing for Irwin to sink lower in the seat, then climbed up Irwin’s shirt collar to get a better look. “What sparkly tooth decorations yours gots.”

  “You like my braces?” Irwin opened wider so Megabat could touch the small, metal squares.