Judy Moody Around the World in 8 1/2 Days (6 page)

On Monday, when Judy got to school, she went to talk to Mr. Todd first thing.

“Mr. Todd,” said Judy, “you know how we’re going around the world in eight days?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Todd.

“And you know how my group is supposed to do Italy?”

“Is there a problem?” asked Mr. Todd.

“Kind of. I mean, yes. We can’t do Italy. Or any country.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mr. Todd. “Because not just our class, but Class 3V, too, is counting on going around the world in eight days. And we can’t go around the world without Italy.”

“It’s sort of my fault,” said Judy. “I missed a practice for the tarantella and Rocky and Frank and Jessica got mad and —”

“I’d like you to try to work this out yourselves,” said Mr. Todd. “Just do your best, okay?”

“I’ll try,” said Judy. “Jessica came up with something she’ll do herself, but I know Rocky and Frank, and they can stay mad way longer than eight days.”

“Well,” said Mr. Todd, “tell you what. How about if we visit Italy last? We can wait till Day Eight and do it at the very end.”

“Thank you,” said Judy. “Thank you, Mr. Todd. I’ll figure it out. Or something.”

All week, Class 3T, along with Class 3V, had a blast going around the world. Judy tried to forget all about Rocky and Frank being mad at her. In London, Judy and Amy got to say “Brilliant!” And they got to eat chips (aka French fries) with vinegar.

In France, Amy Namey led the two classes in singing “Frere Jacques” in a round.

In Yeah Man (aka Yemen), they got to eat spicy beans and rice with their fingers! Then they got to try brushing their teeth with a stick, like Nellie Bly!

In Egypt, they built a giant sugar-cube pyramid. And in Japan, Judy got to try on a kimono and learn kirigami, the Japanese art of paper cutting. In China, they made brush paintings and ate fortune cookies (that were really from the Happy Garden Chinese Restaurant, not China!).

“What does your fortune say?” Judy asked Amy Namey.

“Nice!” said Judy.

“How about yours?” asked Amy. “What’s it say?”

“Nothing,” said Judy.

“It’s blank? It has to say something. Let me see.” Amy plucked the fortune right out of Judy’s hand.

“Don’t worry!” said Amy. “It’s not a real fortune! It’s written on a sticky note. In kid handwriting.”

“Something tells me it just might come true anyway,” said Judy.

By the next Tuesday, Classes 3T and 3V had traveled the world for seven days. The next day was the last day. The next day was Day Eight. There was only one problem. Rocky and Frank were still M-A-D mad. Madder than a spider bite. Madder than a tarantula dancing the tarantella.

She, Judy Moody, was in a mood. She had a bad case of the DIY Blues. The Do-It-Yourself Blues. Judy always heard Mom and Dad saying, “If you want to get something done, do it yourself.” Maybe she could do the dance without Rocky and Frank. Jessica Finch, too. When Rocky and Frank saw how hard she worked on their Around-the-World project, she would save them from flunking and they wouldn’t be mad anymore.

So she, Judy Moody, official card-carrying member of the My-Name-Is-a-Poem Club, would make sure Classes 3T and 3V went around the world in eight days. She, Judy Moody, would DIH. Do. It. Herself.

Judy stayed up past bedtime reading about Italy and gluing pizza tables together and making up a game for everyone to play. She even made Stink practice the tarantella with her, but he just kept stomping on her feet.

When she woke up the next morning, she dressed in a red skirt and a green-and-white striped shirt. She even drew Italian flags on her white tights and wore her red shoes from the time she was Dorothy for Halloween.

“Who are you?” asked Stink. “One of Santa’s elves?”

“Elf schmelf,” said Judy. “Don’t you know what’s red, white, and green all over?”

“Markers that got on Mom’s new white carpet?” asked Stink.

“I hope you’re kidding,” said Mom. “Hmm, let’s see. Red, white, and green. How about that strange spaghetti Dad makes?”

“I thought you liked my tri-color pasta,” said Dad. “You said it was creative!”

“It’s creative all right,” said Mom, making a funny face.

“Well, I hope we’re not having that tonight,” said Judy. “Because I borrowed lots of pasta for my Pasta Shapes Game.”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” said Dad. “What’s red, white, and green all over? A Christmas zebra?”

“No-o!” said Judy. “It has nothing to do with Christmas.”

“I know!” said Stink. “How about the flag of Bulgaria, Hungary, Mexico, or Madagascar?”

“Mad-at-what-car? Hello! How about It-a-ly, Stink? The flag of Italy is red, white, and green.”

“I can’t help it. I didn’t read the I volume of the encyclopedia yet,” said Stink. “Besides, you don’t look like a flag. And I should know. I was a human flag once. . . .”

“Wow, this must be quite a project,” said Dad.

“It is,” said Judy. “It took Nellie Bly seventy-two days to go around the world, and she beat the record. Try going around the whole world in just eight days!”

“So, are you and your friends all patched up now?” asked Mom.

“It’s still a little rocky,” said Judy. “But after today —”

“A little Rocky? Get it?” asked Stink.

“Ha, ha,” said Judy. “Stink, can I borrow your tarantula skeleton to take to school? And your tambourine?”

“I don’t know,” said Stink. “I’ll think about it.”

“Stink, don’t be a bratellino. Not today. Please.”

“Do they have a lot of tarantulas and tambourines in Italy or something?” asked Stink.

“Or something,” said Judy.

“No, I mean it,” said Stink.

“Stink, for a kid who reads the encyclopedia, you sure don’t know a lot of stuff.”

“I haven’t read the T volume yet either!” said Stink.

“Well, you better get cracking!” said Judy. “Didn’t you know? In the country of Italy, tarantulas play the tambourine while eating tortellini!”

When Judy got to school that morning, she bumped into Amy Namey in the hall.

“I can’t wait to hear about Italy!” said Amy. “We get to come over to your class again. I can’t wait to see your group dance that spider dance!”

“I’m my group,” said Judy. She stepped inside Class 3T and set the Leaning Tower of Pizza Tables on the shelf by the window. She covered it with an upside-down box so nobody would see it yet.

“Rocky, did you bring the record? And the record player?” asked Judy.

“Frank,” said Rocky, “tell Judy I brought the record player.”

“Yipes stripes! You’re still not talking to me?” asked Judy.

Rocky zipped his lips.

“Lipper Zipper,” said Judy, cracking herself up.

“Huh?” asked Frank.

“Never mind,” said Judy. “You had to be there. And I was. With Amy Namey. Not you guys!”

As soon as the bell rang, it was time for Judy’s group to tell about Italy. Judy and Jessica stood up in front of Class 3T and Class 3V.

“Judy,” asked Mr. Todd, “what about the rest of your group?”

“C’mon, you guys,” Judy whispered.

Rocky and Frank came and stood up front. “Um, Rocky’s having trouble with his voice or something,” said Judy. “So I’ll be talking for my group. Frank will hold up the flag of Italy.” Judy handed the flag to Frank.

“Ciao, everybody,” said Judy. “First, Jessica Finch will pass out a Pizza Spelling Test.”

“Test!?” everybody complained.

“It’s just for fun,” said Jessica. “And you can do it whenever you want. It’s not like it’s H-O-M-E-W-O-R-K or anything.”

“Now,” said Judy Moody, “first I’ll tell you a little about Italy. Then we’ll play a game, and I’ll show you a dance. So, Italy sure has some funny-sounding cities. Like Baloney, Italy. And Pizza, Italy.”

“It’s Ba-LONE-ya,” said Mr. Todd. “And PEE-za, Italy.”

“Bravo!” said Judy. “In the town of Pizza, there’s this tower, but it’s crooked. So it’s called the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

“And guess what?” said Jessica Finch. “If you mess up the letters in THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA, you get WHAT A FOREIGN STONE PILE. It’s called an anagram.”

“Anyway,” said Judy, “I made a leaning tower to show you what it looks like.”

“That was our idea!” said Rocky.

“Rocky, I see you found your voice,” said Mr. Todd.

“This was Rocky and Frank’s idea,” said Judy. “Voila!”

“Voila is French,” said Jessica Finch. “We learned that last week.”

“May I present,” said Judy, “the Leaning Tower of Pizza Tables.” She yanked off the box.

Something was not right! The Leaning Tower of Pizza Tables wasn’t leaning at all. It was melted. What used to be a leaning stack of glued-together pizza tables was now just a great big globby blob of melty plastic.

“Ahhh!” Everybody pointed and cracked up.

“I’m melting!” said Rocky in a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West voice.

“Oh, no!” said Judy. “My Leaning Tower of Pizza Tables. I set it on the shelf . . . over the radiator!”

“The heat melted them,” said Rocky.

“We’ll just have to call it the Melted Tower of Pizza,” said Frank.

“Don’t feel bad,” said Amy Namey. “That’s like what happened to my papier-mache globe. Globe explode! Remember?”

“Okay, folks, the show must go on!” said Mr. Todd.

Judy took out the supplies for the Pasta Shapes Game.

“Everybody gets their own game board and a little bag with pasta in it,” said Judy, holding up a bag and rattling it. “You match the different kinds of pasta in the bag with the shapes on your board.”

“Great idea,” said Mr. Todd.

“That sounds like lots of fun,” said Ms. Valentine.

“Then write the name of the noodle under it. If you don’t know the name, you can look up at my chart.” Judy held up a piece of cardboard that had pasta shapes glued onto it. Above each kind of pasta was its name.

Everybody cracked up. “Ha, ha!” Bradley pointed.

“You’re missing some,” said a kid from the other class.

“Where’s the elbow macaroni?” somebody asked.

“And the vermicelli? And the cappellini?” asked Jessica.

Judy stared at her cardboard. How could she have missed any? She had even stayed up late making sure she had every single last one glued into place.

She marched over to Rocky and Frank. “Which one of you stole them? Give it.” She held out her hand.

“I didn’t do anything! Honest!” said Rocky.

Frank was chewing away on something. And the something was not gum. The something was pasta shapes from her game.

“You ate them!?” cried Judy.

“I got hungry just standing here being a flag,” mumbled Frank.

“Eeuw! Use your noodle, Frank,” she said, pointing to her head. “Those noodles were not even cooked!”

“So?” said Frank. “They still taste good.”

“Yuck!” said Judy. “They had GLUE on them. I’m going to tell the whole world that you, Frank Pearl, ate glue.”

“So? Everybody thinks I eat paste anyway.”

“ROAR-a-lini!” said Judy.

The Leaning Tower of Pizza Tables had melted. The Pasta Shapes Game had gotten eaten. Getting around the world in eight days was definitely not easy.

But nothing could wreck the tarantella. Nothing. It had to be perfect. If only she hadn’t forgotten about the practice that day. Now she, Judy Moody, would dance the tarantella alone. Just like her fortune had said.

Rocky would play the record. Frank would shake the tambourine. And Jessica Finch would clap along.

She could not mess this up, or half the third grade would be mad that they did not make it around the world in eight days.

While everyone finished the Pasta Shapes Game, Mr. Todd pushed desks and stuff over to the corner so Judy would have plenty of room.

“Okey-dokey,” said Judy. “This morning I am going to dance the tarantella.”

“The tarantula?” somebody asked.

“No, not the tarantula,” said Frank.

“Well, actually, you’re never going to believe it, but I looked it up. Who knew? Tarantella means ‘tarantula.’ For real and absolute positive. My dad told me the dance started a long time ago, before he was even born, around the Middle Ages.” Mr. Todd and Ms. Valentine cracked up.

Judy held up the tarantula skin in a bag. Everybody squirmed. “EEUW!”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a real spider. Just the skin or the skeleton of a tarantula. Anyway, this dance is called the Spider Dance. Some people say it started because if you got bitten by a tarantula, then you’d act as crazy as a loon and dance to get all the spider-bite stuff out of your system. A doctor even wrote about it and said this dance was a cure for spider bites.”

“Interesting,” Mr. Todd said, raising his eyebrows.

“A spider has eight legs, so usually you need four people,” said Judy, glancing over at Rocky, Frank, and Jessica.

“Judy,” said Mr. Todd, “why don’t you show us? Then we’ll call on some others to come up and try it with you.”

“Fantastico!” said Judy. Rocky started the record. Judy faced the third graders. She stretched her hands in the air. Frank started to shake the tambourine. Jessica Finch clapped. Judy took a deep breath. “Nice and easy,” she told herself.

Da da da, duh da da da,

Da da da-da-da-da-duh

Step-hop, slide. Step-hop, slide. Change step. Hop. Skip. Slap knee. Repeat. Buzz turn. Spin in place.

“One, two, three, and four,” Judy counted to herself. She tried to remember all the steps she practiced. She tried to remember to reverse direction when the music changed. She tried to keep up with the music as it got faster.

Stephopslide. Stephopslide. Change! Step! Hop! Skip! Slapknee! Repeat!

Da da da, duh da da da,

Da da da-da-da-da-duh

Something was not right! The music was too fast!

Judy made her feet go faster and faster until her head was dizzy and her hair was in her mouth.

“Too — puff puff — fast!” she panted. “Slow — puff puff — down!” Huff puff puff.

But nobody seemed to hear. The music kept going faster and faster. Frank shook the tambourine faster than an earthquake. Judy whirled and twirled, a dizzy dancing dervish. Her feet were moving so fast, she felt like a spider with eight legs.

The class was clapping and shouting and laughing and pointing. Mr. Todd blinked the lights. Judy spun like a top out of control — a dizzy, dancing, red-white-and-green machine!