Judy Moody and the Right Royal Tea Party

by Megan McDonald

  “Of course, silly horse. The Royal Poet speaks in rhyme. All the time.”

  “I want to be Royal Poet! I just didn’t know it.” Stink and Judy cracked up.

  At the end of the hall was a secret room. In the secret room was a painting. “Look,” said Judy. “You can peek through the eyes of the painting!”

  Stink stood on tiptoe. He put his eyes up to the holes in the painting. He could see through to the next room.

  “We’re royal spies!” said Judy. “What’s it like in there?”

  “It’s flowerful. Looks like a bunch of kids at some kind of tea party thing. Wait a second. Isn’t that . . . I think I see . . .”

  “No fair, Short Shanks. Quit hogging. My turn.” Judy peeked through the painting. She could not believe her royal spying eyes.

  Judy was peering into a flower-covered room with a long table, a froufrou tablecloth, and fancy teacups. High tea! And seated at the table, wearing a puffy pink dress, long white gloves, and a tiara was none other than . . .

  Jessica Fink Finch!

  Blimey! It was her all right. Judy would know that tiara-wearing Queen Bee of Spelling anywhere.

  “What’s she doing here?” asked Stink.

  “Drinking tea.” Royal tea. High tea. Tea probably made of royal rose petals. Tea that she, Judy Moody, was not drinking.

  Jessica Finch got to drink tea in a for-real castle! Jessica Finch got to eat coronation chicken and crown-shaped cookies. Jessica Finch got to play a royal game of charades.

  It was so not fair. Judy was the one related to a queen, not Jessica.

  Suddenly, she, Judy Moody, had an idea. A smashing idea! She would throw a right royal tea party of her own, and invite her friends. The invitations would be written in super-secret spy code, so Jessica A. Finch would never know.

  Maybe Dad would let her get a bouncy castle. Maybe Mom would let her use dishes, the kind that can break for real. Not paper plates and cups.

  It was going to be a big-deal do. A tea party fit for a queen. And the crowning moment would be when she, Judy Mudeye Moody, was crowned queen, with all her loyal friends around her. She could see it now . . .

  Sir Short Shanks stood on tiptoe. “What are they saying?”

  “Shh. I’m trying to hear,” Judy spy-whispered.

  Jessica made a curtsy. “My favorite part of the castle was the chair in the throne room,” she told the kids at the table. “The one with the knight’s head and the letter M.”

  The royal Moody chair!

  Judy almost choked. “HEY! That’s our chair. The one with the M-for-Moody crest. Not F-for-Finch.”

  Something was not right. Something was hinky. Something was wonky. Jessica Finch sure was annoying. Now she knew how the queen felt when somebody forgot to curtsy. B-u-g-g-e-d!

  “Time to go,” Mom and Dad called. Last stop: gift shop. Judy got her very own hankie. Stink got a deck of cards with facts about doomed kings and queens.

  Short Shanks spouted fun facts all the way home. “Did you know George the First died of eating too many strawberries? Anne Boleyn had an extra finger! Henry the Eighth played tennis while his wife’s head was getting chopped off.”

  All Judy could think about was Jessica Finch and the royal Moody chair. Roar! She felt like a queen all right — a scream queen. If Jessica had copied her family tree, heads were going to roll.

  Friday was going to be the best school day ever. It was the day that Class 3T would be sharing their family trees. By the end of today, the whole school and the whole entire world would find out that she, Judy Moody, was related to a queen.

  Before school started, Judy passed out invitations to her tea party. They were written in secret code. Code that only Mary, Queen of Scots, could crack.

  But that didn’t stop Jessica Fink Finch.

  Before Judy could tell her friends where the answer key was hidden, Jessica Finch pulled out a Wolff Castle gift-shop pocket code-cracker. She cracked the royal code. So much for top-secret.

  “A party!” said Frank.

  “Tea party,” said Judy.

  “Do we get to throw tea in your bathtub, like we did at the Boston Tub Party?”

  “I’ll do magic tricks,” said Rocky.

  “Let’s have a race,” said Amy Namey. “I can announce the winner in my newspaper.”

  “No, no, and no,” said Judy. Sometimes her friends were such plebes. “You guys don’t get it, because you are not related to a queen, like I am. This is a right royal tea party.”

  “So what do we get to do?” asked Frank.

  “Sip tea and practice manners and learn to curtsy,” said Jessica.

  “You get to eat stuff like crumb cakes,” said Judy.

  “You mean crumpets,” said Jessica.

  “All that matters is there will be a coronation, and I will be crowned queen.”

  Her friends looked at her like she was starkers. As in cuckoo-crazy!

  “How come you get to be queen?” asked Frank.

  “I’m the only one with royal blood. Duh.”

  Just then, the bell rang. Judy’s friends rushed to class. “Hey, wait up!”

  But nobody waited up.

  Judy hurried after them. “There will be a bouncy castle!” It wasn’t true. It was a big fat lie. But she had to make a tea party sound exciting somehow.

  So far, so bad. The best school day ever was a royal flop. But pretty soon the world would find out that Judy Moody was related to a hero, and maybe a pirate, and almost-for-sure a queen.

  Family tree time! Judy raised her hand to go first. Mr. Todd called on Madison and Addison. He called on Manuel and Isabel. He called on Rocky. He called on Frank Pear/Pearl.

  Judy was at sixes and sevens. Eights and nines, too. Then it happened. Her teacher called on none other than Jessica Fink Finch.

  Jessica Finch stood in front of the class. Jessica Finch wore her posh tea party dress. Jessica Finch pulled on long white gloves. She put on pearls that were not a candy necklace and placed her Queen Bee tiara on her head.

  Jessica Finch did not look like a fink. She looked like a princess. She looked like Cinderella herself. Judy pulled her candy necklace out from under her shirt. She snuck a secret bite. Chomp. At least Jessica Finch did not have a crown-jewel mood-changing peacock pin.

  Jessica traced her Finch family tree back to merry olde England. Hey! Judy Moody’s family tree went back to merry olde England, too. Same-same!

  Jessica Finch told the class that way back in time the name Finch used to be Fink. Ha! So Jessica Finch actually was a fink. For real and absolute positive! Well, I’ll be gobsmacked!

  Then Jessica Finch held up her family crest. It had a giant M on it. Judy’s family crest had a giant M on it, too. M was for Moody.

  Judy’s hand shot up. “Um, excuse me. But why does your family crest say M? It should say F for Fink. I mean Finch.”

  “Hold your crumpets,” said Jessica. “I’m getting to that part.”

  Chomp. Chomp-chomp. Judy was only half listening. Jessica Finch was related to a judge. Bor-ing. Jessica Finch was related to a baron. Snooze. Jessica Finch was related to the third Earl of Blah-Blah. Zzzzzz.

  Judy bet that Jessica Finch did not have a great-great-uncle on the Titanic. Jessica Finch did not have a cousin with a pirate name like Mudeye Moody. Jessica Finch did not have an ancestor who maybe guarded the crown jewels in the for-real Tower of London.

  Wait. What? Titanic? Suddenly, Judy could not believe her not-listening ears. Did Jessica just say that she was related to someone who was on the Titanic?

  Judy sucked in a breath. No way, no how. Impossible. There was only one explanation. Jessica Finch was a big fat family-tree stealer!

  Wait till Judy told Mr. Todd. F-was-for-Flunk. Judy raised her hand. Mr. Todd asked her to hold her question till the end.

  Queens did not wait their turns. Queens did not bite their tongues when family-tree-stealing rat finks told royal lies. Queens threw people like that in the tower.

&n
bsp; Now Jessica was telling a story about her ancestors in the olden days of kings and queens. Same-same again. Copycat. Copy-kitten. Copy-lioness!

  Chomp-chomp-chomp. Three more bites of candy necklace down the hatch.

  Judy raised her hand again. Mr. Todd frowned.

  “Once upon a time,” Jessica was saying, “back in ye olde England, the Finch family had a longer name. They were the Mudeye-Finches. That’s why my family crest has an M-for-Mudeye, not an F-for-Finch.”

  Mudeye! Did she say Mudeye? Mudeye was an old-timey name for Moody.

  Judy knew her family tree by heart. Her family name was once spelled Modig, then Mudeye, then Moody. How could Jessica Finch have the name Mudeye, too?

  “Mr. Todd!” Judy jumped up out of her seat.

  “Judy, please keep your seat,” said Mr. Todd. “I don’t want to tell you again.”

  To make matters worse, Jessica was telling a story about the Tower of London. Now Mr. Todd would think she was the copycat!

  “My ancestor was Lady Philberta Finch,” said Jessica. “She raised songbirds for Queen Victoria. Then one day, one of the royal finches pooped . . . right on the queen’s head!” Class 3T laughed like crazy.

  “Poor Philberta got locked up in the Tower of London.”

  Judy wanted this to be over. “The end!” Judy shouted.

  “Judy,” said Mr. Todd. “I’m going to have to ask you to move to Antarctica.”

  “But . . . !” Her teapot was about to boil. Keep calm and carry on . . . to Antarctica.

  Judy slunk to the desk in the back of the room with a map of Antarctica. She glared at the cardboard penguin holding the CHILL OUT sign.

  The rest of Class 3T was on the edge of their seats. “What happened to the lady who got locked in the tower?” asked Frank.

  “Did they chop off her head?” asked Rocky.

  “Nope. She got rescued by a brave lad who went by the name of Mudeye.”

  GULP!

  “Was he a prince?” asked Addison and Madison at the same time.

  “Yes!” said Judy before she knew what she was saying.

  “No,” said Jessica. “Mudeye wasn’t a prince at all. He wasn’t even royal. He was the royal rat catcher — the guy who caught the rats in the Tower of London.”

  Rat fink! Jessica had to be talking rubbish. Telling tall tales! Jessica should be sent to Antarctica for lying like a rug. Jessica should be banished to the Tower. The Tower of No Talking. The Tower of No Tea Parties.

  “Then what happened?” Class 3T asked.

  “This Mudeye guy helped her escape from the Tower and they fell in love and ran away together and that’s how they became the Mudeye-Finches.”

  Class 3T started clapping.

  “Decades later their kids and kids’ kids sailed for America. That’s how my family first came to this country. But it was too hard to say Mudeye-Finch all the time, so Mudeye got dropped and our name was just Finch. The end.”

  The end of Judy and the Royal House of Moody.

  Class 3T went wild, standing and clapping even more. Jessica Finch curtsied.

  Judy Moody did not stand up. Judy Moody did not clap. Judy Moody put her head down on the South Pole. She wanted to cry into her not-royal hankie.

  Jessica Finch always did her homework. Jessica Finch always got big fat A’s, except for when they were A-pluses. Her family tree did not lie.

  If Jessica Finch was telling the truth, then her great-grandpa-times-thirteen was NOT related to a queen after all.

  She, Judy Moody, was more rat than royal.

  She was not from a long line of blue bloods. She was not from a long line of queens. She was not even a teeny tiny bit Cinderella. She was from a long line of rat catchers. The lowliest of the low. Royal rat catchers were worse than royal bug squishers.

  Then it hit her like a ship crashing into an iceberg. This was titanic!

  If Jessica’s story was true, then she, Judy Mudeye Moody, was related to . . . Jessica Fink Finch!

  If you went way, way, way, way, way back in the family tree, Jessica Finch was Judy Moody’s long lost . . . stepsister?

  Blimey! Judy’s knickers were in a right piccadilly of a twist.

  Forget Cinderella. She and Jessica were the stugly upsisters. Ugly stepsisters!

  Judy wanted to float away on an Antarctic iceberg to a land Far Far Away.

  She looked down at her KEEP CALM T-shirt. It should say KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON LIKE A ROYAL RAT CATCHER.

  “Earth to Judy,” said Mr. Todd.

  It was finally her turn, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stand in front of her friends and her whole class and tell them that she was not related to a queen. She was descended from a not-royal, good-for-nothing rat catcher.

  “You can return to your seat, Judy. We’re out of time for today. We’ll pick up with your family tree on Monday.”

  Phew! Nobody knew her big fat secret yet. Nobody knew that she was an un-queen. And nobody-but-nobody knew that she was secret sort-of-sisters with Jessica Finch. Nobody could ever know.

  Judy picked up her Famous Women Rulers ruler. She could no longer read her name there, it was so smudged. She snuck a bite of candy necklace. They were no longer pearls.

  All of a sudden, a note folded like a crown landed on her Social Studies Student Edition Grade Three book.

  She looked around. She unfolded the note. Hi, Sis!!

  Hi, Sis!! Two short words of perfect penmanship. The swirly capital S. The smiley-face i. The slanty double exclamation points. These were the marks of the Princess of Penmanship. The Queen of Cursive. The Her-Majesty of Handwriting.

  Jessica A-Plus Finch.

  She knew!

  The secret was out. Soon it would be all over Class 3T that Judy Moody was not — I repeat not — related to a queen. It would be all over the whole school that Judy was related to Jessica Fink Finch.

  Arch-frenemy Jessica Finch had ruined everything. How could Judy have a right royal tea party and be crowned queen if she was not even royal?

  Judy glared at the ponytail in front of her. The same ponytail she stared at every day. But today it did not belong to her know-it-all rival. It did not belong to the show-off Queen Bee of Spelling. Today it belonged to her long lost . . . stepsister!

  Stugly upsister, Judy told herself. She tweaked that ponytail. Once, twice. Jessica turned around. She wasn’t even annoyed. She was smiling. Her eyes sparkled like crown jewels.

  “Meet me by the cubbies,” Judy whispered. She headed for the back of the room. Jessica followed.

  “You can’t tell anybody —” Judy started.

  “We’re secret stepsisters,” said Jessica, jumping up and down.

  “Shh!” said Judy.

  “But I always wanted a sister,” said Jessica.

  “Stop saying sister!” said Judy. “You especially can’t tell Rocky or Frank or Amy. They’ll never come to my party and crown me queen if they find out I’m not even royal. I’m related to a rat catcher.”

  “A very brave rat catcher!” said Jessica.

  “Mudeye does mean brave. But even a brave rat catcher is no queen,” said Judy. She reached into her pocket. “If you keep this secret, I’ll give you my hankie.”

  “Ew! No thanks,” said Jessica.

  “My candy necklace?” Judy stretched it out for Jessica to see.

  “It’s all slobbery. And half-eaten!” said Jessica.

  Judy held a pinkie in the air. Not a tea-drinking pinkie. A long-lost-stepsister, swear-on-a-secret pinkie. “Pinkie swear!”

  Judy and Jessica locked pinkies. “Lips lock, never talk,” they chanted.

  “You pinkie swore,” said Judy. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “I’ll keep your secret,” said Jessica. “On one condition.”

  “Name it,” said Judy.

  “You have to invite me to your royal tea party. After all, I’m the one with the royal name here.”

  GULP!

  Judy hopped off the bus and waved goo
dbye to Rocky and Frank. “Don’t forget my party tomorrow. Saturday. T. P. tent. Four o’clock sharp. Look for the bouncy castle!”

  Jessica Finch walked home with Judy. She had taken over as Judy’s party planner. After all, Jessica had been to a real high tea at an actual castle. Judy had only spied on one.

  “So here’s the thing,” said Judy. “I promised my friends a bouncy castle. But Mom and Dad won’t let me.”

  “Queens don’t bounce anyway,” Jessica pointed out. “They don’t even break a sweat. Especially not at a tea party.”

  “What do they do?” asked Judy.

  “Drink tea and eat finger sandwiches and pink foods like salmon mousse.”

  “Moose? Where am I going to get a moose? I can’t even get a bouncy castle.”

  “Mousse is a food. Like pudding. Only it’s made of fish.”

  Fish pudding! That sounded awful fishy to Judy.

  “I think my friends would rather jump in a castle than eat a moose.”

  “I have an idea,” said Jessica. “Leave it to me.”

  “This is it!” said Judy when they got to the Toad Pee tent out back. “Party Central.”

  Jessica looked around, thinking. “Make a list.” Judy picked up her Grouchy pencil. “We need a table for the tea. Teapot. Tablecloth. Doilies. Napkins.”

  “Nappies, check,” said Judy.

  “Not nappies!” said Jessica. “Napkins. Nappies are diapers!”

  Judy crossed nappies off the list. She added real dishes.

  Jessica was waffling on. “We’ll make name cards so everybody knows where to sit. And we’ll have three different kinds of tea. Peppermint, Earl Grey . . .”

  “Earl who?”

  “Are you writing this down?” asked Jessica. Jessica Finch sure was bossy when it came to tea parties. “We’ll have tea first, then the crowning.”

  “How about party favors?” Judy asked.

  “Everyone will get a tea bag and an egg cup to take home.”

  Tea bags? Egg cups? Judy wasn’t so sure her friends were going to like this. But then she pictured herself on a velvet pillow sipping high tea and wearing the Royal Moody Sapphire and getting crowned Queen of Queens.