For the little girl who lost her Topo Gigio — C.A.
ISBN 978-1-77138-588-6 (EPUB)
Text © 2015 Caroline Adderson
Illustrations © 2015 Kids Can Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of Kids Can Press Ltd. or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a license from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright license, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance of characters to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as trademarks. Where those designations appear in this book and Kids Can Press Ltd. was aware of a trademark claim, the designations have been printed in initial capital letters (e.g., Dustbuster).
Kids Can Press acknowledges the financial support of the Government of Ontario, through the Ontario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative; the Ontario Arts Council; the Canada Council for the Arts; and the Government of Canada, through the CBF, for our publishing activity.
Published in Canada by
Kids Can Press Ltd.
25 Dockside Drive
Toronto, ON M5A 0B5
Published in the U.S. by
Kids Can Press Ltd.
2250 Military Road
Tonawanda, NY 14150
www.kidscanpress.com
Edited by Yasemin Uçar
Series designed by Rachel Di Salle
Designed by Julia Naimska
Illustrations by Mike Shiell, based on illustrations in Jasper John Dooley, Books 1–4 by Ben Clanton
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Adderson, Caroline, author
Jasper John Dooley, lost and found / written by Caroline Adderson ; illustrated by Mike Shiell.
(Jasper John Dooley ; 5)
ISBN 978-1-77138-014-0 (bound)
I. Shiell, Mike, illustrator II. Title. III. Series: Adderson, Caroline, 1963– .
Jasper John Dooley ; 5.
PS8551.D3267L67 2015 jC813’.54 C2014-907192-2
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter 1
At recess, Jasper John Dooley and Ori invented a new game. They were tired of knights and hide-and-seek. They really didn’t want to play babies with the girls. The girls made them lie in the grass and wa-wa-wa and pretend to eat pinecones.
Today they were treasure hunters.
Jasper and Ori knelt in the sand near the jungle gym and dug. The deeper they dug, the harder it was. Jasper grabbed a plastic snack container lying on the ground. He used it to dig and gave Ori the lid.
“I found something!” Ori called out.
Jasper peered into Ori’s hole. Something glinted at the bottom.
“Treasure!”
Both boys attacked the hole with their hands. Sand flew all around them until Ori pulled the treasure out.
“A bottle cap,” he said, and slumped. “I thought it was gold.”
They went back to digging. Jasper found a worm. It nearly got cut in half! Jasper carried the worm over to the bushes and hid it under some leaves, where it would be safe from birds and treasure hunters.
When he got back to his hole, Isabel and Zoë were standing over Ori with their hands on their hips.
“What are you doing, Ori?” Zoë asked.
“Digging for treasure.”
“What kind of treasure?”
“Gold,” Ori said. “Or silver.”
“Ha ha ha!” Isabel laughed.
Jasper asked her to move because her foot was almost in his hole.
“You’re never going to find treasure here,” Isabel told him.
Jasper pretended the girls weren’t there, but ignoring girls was the best way to interest them. They bent over, watching Jasper and Ori dig, ooh-ing when Jasper hit something hard, then giggling when he lifted a rock out of the hole.
“Jasper John,” Isabel said, “if you’re looking for treasure, I have some in my cubby.”
Jasper stopped digging and looked up at Isabel. She smiled, showing the empty front-tooth space in her mouth.
“What kind of treasure?” Jasper asked.
“I’ll show you,” Isabel said just as the bell rang.
Jasper and Ori followed Isabel and Zoë into the school. In the classroom, Isabel led them to her cubby, where her backpack was hanging on a hook. She unzipped the front pocket and reached inside it.
Ori gasped when he saw what Isabel took out.
Money. So so so much money!
“Treasure!” Ori exclaimed.
“Where did you get it?” Jasper asked Isabel.
“From the bowl in my front hall beside the phone,” Isabel said.
Isabel had an idea for a game. A good one! At lunch she and Zoë would go ahead and bury the treasure. Then Jasper and Ori would dig for it.
“Whatever you find, you can keep,” Isabel told them.
“Really?” Jasper said.
Isabel nodded. Jasper and Ori looked at each other.
“The thing is,” Ori said, “we’ll be rich.”
So at lunch Jasper and Ori ended up playing with Isabel and Zoë even though they hadn’t wanted to. At least it wasn’t babies!
First they stood on the school steps with their backs turned and counted to one hundred. That way the girls had enough time to bury the treasure. Then they tore down to the jungle gym. They dug and dug with the plastic container and the lid until the sand around the jungle gym was all holey.
Isabel and Zoë stood by, calling, “Not there!” and “Not even close!” and “Try again!”
When Jasper stopped to rest, he looked over at the girls. Their mouths got small like they were sucking on a peppermint. A peppermint or a joke. They glanced at each other and smiled.
By the time the after-lunch bell rang, Jasper and Ori weren’t any richer.
Chapter 2
Every Wednesday, Jasper visited his Nan in her apartment not far from his house. They had fun riding the elevator up and down, making horrible faces in the mirrors on the walls, and playing Go Fish for jujubes and Dress Up Nan.
Today making a horrible face in the elevator mirror was easy. Jasper only had to think about digging holes while Isabel and Zoë tried not to laugh.
“Is that a real horrible face?” Nan asked.
“This face is for Isabel and Zoë, who tricked us!” Jasper told her.
Jasper told Nan the story. When he said, “I bet they didn’t even bury that treasure!” Nan made a real horrible face, too.
The elevator stopped on Nan’s floor and they got out. Jasper raced ahead to her door and rapped the jaws of the lion’s head knocker even though Nan wasn’t inside to answer.
“Too bad about the treasure,” the lion said to Jasper in his liony voice.
“I know!” Jasper said back. “I wish I
had some treasure to bury.”
Nan unlocked the door for Jasper. “You’re in luck. I just found a whole box of treasure. It’s on the table.”
“Really?” Jasper said.
He pulled off his shoes without undoing the laces and ran ahead to the kitchen. There was a box on the table, just like Nan said, with a string tied around it. The sort of box Mom liked — long and flat. Dad always gave her a box like this for her birthday, with a fancy nightie in it, except for the time he gave her a bigger box with a Dustbuster in it, and she got mad. Now Dad always gave her presents in boxes that were too long and flat to hold cleaning things.
Jasper jiggled the box. It was heavy, and the things inside rattled and slid. A word was written on the side: TOYS.
Nan sat at the table with Jasper. “I was down in the storage room this morning. I found it tucked away there.”
“It’s toys, not treasure,” Jasper said.
“Small toys, if I remember right. They’ll be perfect for burying and digging up. Open it.”
“Toys!” Jasper crowed when they finally got the knot on the string undone and the lid lifted off. Lots and lots of little toys! Most of them were soldiers, but they were the funniest toy soldiers Jasper had ever seen.
“These soldiers are pink!” Jasper laughed.
“They were Tom’s, back when he was about your age,” Nan said.
Tom was Jasper’s uncle. Jasper didn’t see him very often because he lived far away in Australia.
“But your father? One day he took my nail polish and painted them.”
“I know,” Jasper said. “Dad told me. What did Uncle Tom do when he saw his soldiers were pink?”
“Oh, he was mad!”
Both of them started to laugh. They laughed so hard Jasper had to fetch Nan a tissue.
“What else is in there?” Nan asked Jasper when she had wiped her eyes.
“Marbles. Hockey cards,” Jasper said. “And old-fashioned cars!”
“I guess they are old-fashioned now.” Nan peered in the box. “And look! Oh, my goodness! This sure brings back memories!”
Out of the jumble of little toys, she plucked something orange and made of plastic. Something with big ears and big feet.
“Marcel Mouse,” Nan said. “There was a TV show about this mouse. Tom and David would race home after school to watch it. They’d burst through the door, singing the jingle.”
“What’s a jingle?”
“The theme song for the show.”
“Sing the song.”
“I don’t remember it, Jasper. But I remember those two little boys bursting into the house, singing. And I remember that Tom got Marcel Mouse as a prize in a box of popcorn. Your dad almost died of jealousy. He begged and pleaded for that mouse. In the end, I think he traded every toy he owned for it. Do you see this little loop between Marcel’s ears? Your dad hung Marcel on a string around his neck and never took him off, not even in the bath.”
“He loved Marcel Mouse,” Jasper said.
Nan nodded.
“Then Marcel Mouse really is a treasure. But I’m never going to bury him.”
Jasper took the string that had been tied around the box and threaded it through the loop between Marcel Mouse’s big ears. With the two ends of the string, he tied a knot and hung the little orange mouse around his neck.
Marcel Mouse’s string was long. It was so long that Marcel hung down by Jasper’s belly button. Nan suggested he cut the string shorter, but Jasper said, “No. Marcel likes it so so long like this. On a so so long string, Marcel swings more. He has more fun.”
Jasper shifted from foot to foot. This made Marcel swing out to each side. Marcel swung higher and higher until he was at shoulder level.
Nan watched him from the stove, where she was making macaroni. “I hope Marcel doesn’t have motion sickness.”
“What’s that?”
“Some people feel like throwing up on boats or cars or rides at the fair.”
“Marcel doesn’t feel like throwing up. He loves it! Wheee!”
After supper, when Mom came to pick up Jasper, he showed her how Marcel Mouse could swing. Then they hugged Nan good-bye and left with Marcel and the box of treasure.
At home, Jasper burst into the living room, where Dad was lying on the sofa watching golf on TV. Jasper wished he knew the Marcel Mouse song. If he’d known it, he would have burst in singing it like Dad had when he was a boy.
Jasper stood in front of Dad with Marcel Mouse hanging down by his belly button.
“Hi, Jasper,” Dad said.
Jasper smiled. “Hi.”
Dad leaned to the side to see past Jasper. Jasper stepped in the way again.
“What are you doing, Jasper?” Dad asked.
“Showing you something.”
Dad didn’t notice Marcel Mouse because he was looking at Jasper’s smiling face. “What?”
Jasper stuck out his tummy. Dad’s eyes traveled down the string, all the way to the little plastic mouse with the big ears and big feet. He sat up straight.
“Is that Marcel Mouse?”
Jasper was surprised by what Dad did next — he sprang to his feet and began to sing: “Marcel Mouse! Marcel Mouse! A mouse who’s lots of fun! Marcel Mouse! Marcel Mouse! He’s a tricky one!”
Dad waved his hands high. He waved them low. He turned in a circle, waving his hands and singing.
“Marcel Mouse!” Jasper joined in. “Marcel Mouse!”
He sang and danced and waved high and low with Dad.
“That was my favorite show, Jasper,” Dad said. “Every day Marcel got in trouble and every day he got out again. Once he got caught in a mousetrap. He held it open with his two skinny mouse arms, then with his tail performed the most amazing trick. He bent the wires of the trap and flipped it over. And you know what that trap became?”
“What?”
“A lawn chair!”
Dad threw himself on the sofa with his arms folded behind his head and one leg crossed over the other, his toe tapping the air. He looked just like he was sunning himself in a lawn chair. Jasper lay on the floor and sunned himself, too.
Dad looked down at Jasper. “Nan had Marcel?”
Jasper nodded.
“Let me wear him.”
“No,” Jasper said.
“Just for a little while.”
“No. Nan gave him to me. He’s mine.”
“Come on.” Dad reached for Marcel. Jasper clutched the little mouse to his chest, so Dad started tickling Jasper. Jasper laughed and squirmed, holding Marcel Mouse tight.
“You’re just like Tom!” Dad said. “He wouldn’t let me play with Marcel either.” As soon as Dad mentioned Uncle Tom, he remembered something and sat up on the sofa. “Gail! Gail!”
Mom came to the living room with a big cookbook in her hands.
“Tom called,” Dad told her. “He’s coming for Mom’s party.”
“Really? He’s coming for Nan’s birthday? That’s great!” Mom said.
“Uncle Tom’s coming here?” Jasper jumped up and shouted, “Hurray!”
That night Jasper took a bath with Marcel Mouse the way Dad had when he was a little boy. Marcel headed out in a boat. Good thing he didn’t have motion sickness, because right away the seas got stormy. Luckily, Marcel was attached to the so so long string. When the boat capsized in the middle of the ocean, Jasper pulled him back to land.
After his bath, Jasper climbed into bed with Marcel still hanging from the string around his neck. But Mom said he couldn’t sleep wearing Marcel Mouse.
“When Dad was a little boy the same age as me, Nan let him sleep with Marcel Mouse. Dad never took Marcel off,” Jasper told her.
Mom said, “Nan is lucky her little boy didn’t strangle on the string while he was asleep.”
She said
it was Very Dangerous to sleep with a plastic mouse on a string around his neck, and Jasper had to take Marcel off.
Jasper wrapped the wet string around and around Marcel’s orange body until he looked like a mummy with his head sticking out. “Goodnight, Marcel,” he said, looking into the orange mouse’s surprised eyes. “I’ll be right here.”
He tucked Marcel under the pillow, patted it, then fell asleep humming the Marcel Mouse song.
Chapter 3
In the morning, the first thing Jasper did was slide his hand under the pillow.
“DAD!!!!”
Dad came running.
“Marcel Mouse is gone! Did you take him?”
“No,” Dad said.
“You didn’t sneak in and take him?”
Dad said, “I didn’t. Honest.”
“You tried to take him from Uncle Tom.”
“I traded for him,” Dad said. “You’re the only one in this family who sneaks into bedrooms when people are sleeping and steals.”
Steals belly button lint, he meant. Sometimes Jasper snuck into Mom and Dad’s room early in the morning to do this.
“Marcel’s got to be here somewhere,” Dad said. “Let’s look.”
Jasper threw off the covers. He and Dad got down on their hands and knees and looked under the bed. “What are those big blobs?” Jasper asked.
“Dust bunnies. I’ll get the broom.”
Dad came back with the broom and swept all the dust bunnies out from under the bed. They looked like lint clouds. Other things were mingled with the bunnies.
“My yo-yo,” Jasper said. “And there’s the gold pencil crayon Mrs. Kinoshita gave me.”
“And there’s an apple core, a scrunchy tissue and some very dusty underpants,” Dad said. “And look, Jasper. Over in the corner. An empty wastebasket.”
Jasper didn’t laugh. “But where’s Marcel? Marcel is lost!”
“You get dressed, Jasper. I’ll keep looking.”
“Let’s sing the song,” Jasper said. “He might be hiding. He might be afraid to come out because he’s in a new place.”
Jasper John Dooley, Lost and Found Page 1
