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Judy Moody and the Bad Luck Charm

Page 5

by Megan McDonald


  Jessica’s pigtail bounced as she looked from her mom to her dad

  “Go ahead. Tell them your word, sweetheart,” said Mrs. Finch.

  Jessica dug her shoe into the carpet. She whispered something Judy couldn’t quite hear.

  Judy leaped up. “What? Did you say —”

  “Emancipate,” said Jessica, a little louder. “Okay? Are you happy? The word was EMANCIPATE!”

  “Emancipate!” Judy cried. She could not help cracking up.

  “Hey!” Stink ran over and grabbed Abe Lincoln. “That’s the word on my second-favorite-president statue. I just got it yesterday.”

  “Same-same!” said Judy. “Good thing Jessica didn’t spell eman-ci-potato.”

  “What a coincidence,” said Dad.

  “It’s an UNBELIEVABLE co-inky-dink. Rare!” said Judy.

  “You’re on a lucky strike, Jessica,” said Stink. “Like Judy.”

  “Streak,” said Judy. “Lucky streak.”

  “Did you see it on my statue and that’s how you knew?” said Stink. “So I helped you win?”

  “Actually,” Jessica admitted, “it was Judy.”

  “It was me who said you, Jessica Finch, can spell even fifth-grade words. In fact, I bet you could spell the whole entire dictionary!”

  “Thanks,” said Jessica. “Sorry I was such an aardvark.”

  “Aardwolf,” said Judy.

  “Whatever. I was just so nervous and worried about the spelling bee —”

  “It’s okay. Sorry I was such a meatball. I kabobbed your spelling list. Right over the important words, too.”

  “Meatball was one of the spelling-bee words!” said Jessica.

  “No way!” said Judy.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” said Dad. “Let’s emancipate ourselves from this hotel and go get some ice cream at Pitango to celebrate. What do you say?”

  “Then can we go to the Old Post Office?” asked Judy. “They have a bell tower and you can climb up it and see way far away.”

  “I read that the clock tower has some of the best views of the city,” said Mom.

  “Great idea!” said Mr. Finch. Mrs. Finch nodded.

  “P.G. likes ice cream,” said Jessica.

  “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream,” sang Stink, leading the way.

  The next morning, it was time to head home. Outside on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, the Moodys said good-bye to the Finches for what seemed like an hour. Bor-ing.

  At last, the Finches’ car pulled away. Judy ran down the sidewalk all the way to the curb, waving and blowing kisses to P.G.

  When the car was out of sight, Judy reached into her pocket to make a new wish on her lucky penny.

  What! No penny?

  She reached down deeper. Fooey Louie. She reached into every corner, but all she got was lint. She checked all her other pockets. Twice.

  She spun around, looking here, there, and everywhere. She checked the cracks in the sidewalk. She even searched her shoe.

  No luck. The lucky penny was nowhere.

  She checked her pocket one last time. That’s when she found it.

  A hole!

  Her lucky penny was GFG. Gone For Good. Emancipated. Set free. Was losing a lucky penny bad luck? What if she never had good luck again?

  All of a sudden, a flashing light at the intersection caught her eye. Two cop cars pulled up, stopping traffic.

  Judy squinted down the street, into the bright light. Just then, she thought she saw — Could it be? Were her eyes playing tricks on her? No!

  “Guys! Guys!” she yelled down the sidewalk, trying to get her family’s attention. Judy rushed back to the car, banging on the window to get Mom and Stink’s attention. Dad had his head in the trunk, wrestling with the luggage.

  She jumped up and down, pointing and stabbing the air. “It’s him! For real! Did you see? Did you?”

  “Who him?” asked Stink. He scrambled out of the car, climbed up on a bench, and peered down the street. “All I see are a bunch of black cars.”

  “Secret agent black cars,” said Judy. “It was him! The present. I mean president. He just jogged down that cross street. No lie!”

  “Looks like the president’s motorcade,” said Dad.

  “He must be out exercising,” said Mom.

  “I can’t believe I missed it!” Stink told Judy. “You saw a for-real president. No fair. You have all the luck.”

  “But I don’t —” Judy started to say, thinking about losing her lucky penny.

  Hey, wait just a lucky-ducky minute! She did have good luck without her lucky penny. Cool-o-roonie!

  As they pulled away, Judy gazed out the back window of the car until the Washington Monument was nothing but a teeny tiny dot. A speck on the horizon.

  She waved good-bye to the District of Cool.

  She, Judy Moody, was a VERY BERRY FURRY MERRY FUNNY BUNNY LUCKY DUCKY. She got to go on a runaway pig adventure, help win the Great Third-Grade Spelling Bee, and even become real friends with Jessica Finch.

  And she got a present. The present of seeing the president!

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2012 by Megan McDonald

  Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Peter H. Reynolds

  Judy Moody font copyright © 2003 by Peter H. Reynolds

  Judy Moody®. Judy Moody is a registered trademark of Candlewick Press, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

  First electronic edition 2012

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number pending

  ISBN 978-0-7636-3451-3 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-0-7636-6198-4 (electronic)

  Candlewick Press

  99 Dover Street

  Somerville, Massachusetts 02144

  visit us at www.candlewick.com

 

 

 


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