Three Burps and You're Out

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Three Burps and You're Out Page 3

by Nancy Krulik


  “Georgie, wait up!” Sage called out to George after school that day. “We’re going to the same place. We can walk to the field together.”

  George did not wait up. Instead he walked faster toward the baseball field. He was in a rotten mood. It was bad enough that he’d had to spend all of recess with Sage making googly eyes at him on the baseball field, but now he had to spend his after-school time with her, too. And it was all Chris’s fault.

  “Hey, dude,” Alex said as George met up with him on the baseball field. “Check it out! I’ve found three more pieces of gum under the bench in the visitors’ dugout.”

  “Awesome,” George said. “I still wish I could chew gum for your gum ball.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Alex said. He put his gum ball into his backpack for safekeeping. “There’s plenty of ABC gum in the world. Besides, it’s for your own good. You haven’t had any more burp attacks, have you?”

  George shook his head. “Not one. That’s pretty much the only thing that’s gone right lately. I mean, first I find out I’m on the Brine Shrimp baseball team. Then Chris quits. And now . . .”

  “Georgie, didn’t you hear me calling you?” Sage asked as she arrived at the field.

  “And now that,” George said, rolling his eyes at Sage.

  “Okay, team!” Coach Trainer said. “It’s practice time. Sage, you should probably hit first, since you haven’t had as much practice as the other kids have had. The rest of you, take your positions on the field.”

  George pulled down his catcher’s mask and crouched behind Sage at home plate. He put down four fingers. That was the signal for a curveball.

  Julianna nodded and threw the ball. It soared right past home plate. It was a perfect pitch. But Sage didn’t even swing.

  “How come you didn’t swing?” Julianna asked her. “You could have hit that.”

  “I was afraid I might hit the catcher with the bat,” Sage said. “I don’t want to hurt Georgie.”

  All the kids laughed. Louie laughed the loudest. “I love when she calls him Georgie,” he said.

  “You should talk, Loo Loo Poo!” George barked back at him.

  “Come on, kids. Cool it,” Coach Trainer reminded George and Louie. He turned to Sage. “You can swing as hard as you want,” he told her. “Georgie . . . I mean George . . . will be fine.”

  “He called him Georgie!” Louie started laughing all over again.

  Grrrr . . . George could feel his face turning beet red and hot—so hot that he was sure big blasts of steam were erupting from his ears.

  If Chris had been up to bat, none of this would be happening. But now that Chris had quit and Sage had taken his place, baseball practice was just one big embarrassment.

  He was never going to forgive Chris for this. NEVER!

  Sage struck out really quickly. Unfortunately, Louie went up to bat next. He wasn’t worried about hurting George. In fact, he probably wanted to.

  “You better not mess up the game,” Louie hissed in his direction. “When my big brother, Sam, went to this school, they won the championship. He has a trophy for it and everything. I want a trophy, too.”

  George frowned. Did Louie think he was the only one who wanted a trophy? He reached his hand down and gave Julianna the signal for a fastball. It was her best pitch.

  Zoom! Julianna pitched the ball. It flew across the field so fast, Louie barely saw it.

  “Hey! No fair!” Louie said. “That one was too fast.”

  “That’s why it’s called a fastball,” Julianna answered.

  George laughed and crouched back down. He gave Julianna the signal for a curveball. She nodded and let the pitch fly.

  Crack! This time Louie managed to hit the ball. Only it didn’t fly into the field. Instead the ball popped up backward. George reached up his glove and caught it in midair.

  “Yer out!” he shouted.

  Louie glared at him. “You did that on purpose!” he shouted at George.

  Duh. “That’s my job,” George said. “I catch the ball. I’m the catcher, remember?”

  “But how am I supposed to practice my running if you catch my pop foul?” Louie demanded.

  It was a ridiculous argument. And George would have told Louie so—if he wasn’t suddenly afraid to open his mouth. Not because of what Louie might say or do, but because of what the super burp might do. Suddenly that burp was bing-bonging and ping-ponging in George’s belly. If it slipped out, who knew what would happen?

  The burp was moving fast! It had already cling-clanged over George’s colon and was now bouncing on his bladder. George had to get out of there before the burp burst and made him do something totally goofy!

  He quickly gave Alex the signal. He patted his head and rubbed his belly.

  Whoosh! Julianna sent a fast, curving pitch soaring toward the plate.

  “Julianna!” Coach Trainer shouted. “Who are you pitching to? There’s no batter at the plate.”

  “But George just gave me the knuckleball-forkball-changeup signal,” Julianna said.

  George hadn’t been asking for a pitch. He’d been asking for help. But Alex must have thought George was giving Julianna baseball signals, too.

  Now the burp was hip-hopping on George’s heart. He had to get Alex’s attention. He rubbed his belly and patted his head again.

  “See, now George’s giving me the signal for . . . for . . .” Julianna paused. “I have no idea,” she said.

  But Alex recognized the signal—finally. “Dude, not again!” he shouted as he ran toward George.

  Oh yeah. Again. Bing-bong. Ping-pong.

  The super burp was really strong. But George was stronger. If he could just get those bubbles to slide back down to his feet . . .

  SLIDE! That was it! George took a running leap and did a belly flop. Then he slid face-first toward third base.

  Pop! Suddenly George felt something burst inside. The air rushed right out of him. The super burp was gone.

  Coach Trainer came running over. “Good try, George,” he said. “But you’re supposed to hit the ball before you slide.”

  George opened his mouth to spit out a glob of dirt and grass, and that’s exactly what happened. “Blech,” George said as the mound of brownish-green grime shot out of him.

  “George ate dirt!” Louie laughed. “He’s such a weirdo freak!”

  “The weirdo-est,” Max agreed.

  “The freakiest,” Mike added.

  The three of them laughed. But George didn’t care. He had squelched the belch! And nothing else mattered.

  “The not-chewing-gum burp cure isn’t working,” George said later that afternoon as he and Alex walked home together from practice. “You saw what happened out there. If I hadn’t taken that slide, the burp would’ve blasted right out of me.”

  “But it didn’t,” Alex pointed out. “There have been plenty of times when you couldn’t stop the burps. There was something different about this one.” Alex sounded very serious, like a real scientist. “This burp was weak enough for you to stop. Maybe it was less powerful because you haven’t been chewing gum. Without the gum, you’ve stopped feeding your burps any extra gas.”

  George didn’t argue. It was tough to argue with someone as smart and logical as Alex. Besides, maybe he was right.

  It sure seemed like Alex had found a cure for the not-so-common burp. By the time Thursday morning rolled around, George realized that he had not burped at all. George didn’t miss the burp one bit. What he did miss was Chris. Not that he was forgiving him or anything.

  Still, George was going crazy wondering what kind of art project could be so important that it would make Chris quit the baseball team and turn into a traitor. He just had to know. So George did something he had never, ever done before.

  He got to school early! And he went inside before the bell even rang. He had to. It was the only way he could sneak into the auditorium with no one else around. That was where the art show was set up.

  Each piece of
artwork in the auditorium was covered with a cloth to keep it from getting dirty. And in front of each piece was a card with the name of the artist. George found Chris’s piece in the back of the room. He whipped off the cloth and . . . WOW! George couldn’t believe his eyes. He was standing face-to-face with a humongous, clay sea monkey!

  The sea monkey was amazing. It had big, bulging muscles in its tail and chest. Its eyes were black and piercing. Instead of being a wimpy shrimpy, this sea monkey was strong and powerful. A sign at the bottom of the sculpture read SUGARMAN SEA MONKEYS MASCOT.

  Wow. Now George knew for sure that Chris hadn’t spoken to the Kangaroos. There was no way the kid who built this could ever have been a traitor to the Sea Monkeys. Alex had been right: The Kangaroos must have learned the truth about sea monkeys on their own. And they had probably made up the rhyme themselves, too. After all, how hard was it to come up with one?

  Suddenly George felt bad about how he had treated Chris. It wasn’t fair of him to try to force Chris to play baseball when he loved art so much. And he was really wrong to call him a traitor.

  The worst part was, George couldn’t even apologize—without letting Chris know he’d sneaked a peek at his secret sculpture. And that would just make everything worse.

  “I think we have everything ready . . .”

  Uh-oh! George heard Mrs. Jasper’s voice. It sounded like she was coming down the hallway and heading toward the auditorium. He had to get out of there. Quickly George threw the cloth back over Chris’s sea-monkey sculpture. He turned toward the door and . . . craacckkk!

  Uh-oh . . . again. As George turned around a piece of the sea monkey’s clay tail fell to the floor. George had broken Chris’s sculpture! The sculpture his friend had spent a whole week creating. The sculpture that could have won him a blue ribbon.

  Worse yet, when Chris found out that it was George who had broken the sculpture, their friendship would be broken forever. Chris would never believe that it had been an accident. Not with the way George had been acting.

  Oh man. This was ba-a-ad! George had to fix the sculpture before the art show. Somehow he had to stick that piece of tail back on the sea monkey. But what could he find that would be sticky enough to glue it back on? He doubted the paste he had in his desk was strong enough to glue clay. George was going to need something really sticky to get him out of this sticky situation. Sticky . . . like gum.

  Only George wasn’t chewing gum anymore. But he knew someone who had lots of gum. And it was already chewed, all soft and sticky. All George had to do was swipe a few pieces of fresh ABC gum off the gum ball sitting in Alex’s backpack and use them to fix the sculpture. It was the perfect plan.

  Except if George took gum off Alex’s gum ball, then Alex would be further from his goal of breaking the world record.

  But George didn’t have time to think about that now. Mrs. Jasper’s footsteps were getting closer. Quickly he shoved the piece of sea monkey tail in his pocket and raced out of the auditorium.

  George waited all morning for the chance to sneak some gum from Alex’s ABC gum ball. Finally, when it was lunchtime, he got his chance. While the other kids went to the cafeteria, George snuck back into the classroom. He dug into Alex’s backpack and found the ABC gum ball. It was wrapped in a huge plastic bag to keep it from sticking to Alex’s papers.

  George yanked a big hunk of gray gum from the top layer of the ball. The pieces of gum were still soft and gooey—they’d probably just been chewed when Alex had gotten his hands on them. Yes! That made them perfect for sticking.

  Quickly George put the gum ball back in Alex’s bag and then raced out of the classroom as fast as he could. He had to get that piece stuck back onto the sea monkey before anyone noticed that it was missing.

  Unfortunately, Principal McKeon was just around the corner.

  “George, where are you supposed to be?” Mrs. McKeon asked, stopping George in his tracks.

  “I . . . um . . . I was going to the bathroom before lunch,” George fibbed. “But I’m all done now.”

  “Oh, okay,” Mrs. McKeon said. “Well, hurry up and meet your class.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” George said. He raced off. Phew. That had been a close one.

  A few minutes later, George was back in the auditorium. He knew he didn’t have much time. Any minute now, Mrs. Jasper or one of the other teachers might stop by.

  George placed a few pieces of gum on the butt of the mascot, right where the tail needed to be. He shoved the clay tail back on and held it for a minute to make sure it stuck. Then he stepped back to admire his work.

  Not bad. You couldn’t even see the crack unless you went up really, really close. And who was going to get that close to a sea monkey’s butt?

  George was feeling pretty good about himself as he left the auditorium. He was a good friend after all. He’d just saved Chris’s butt. Well, actually he’d saved Chris’s sea monkey’s butt. But it was pretty much the same thing.

  Now all he had to do was find a few pieces of ABC gum to replace the ones he’d taken from Alex. That shouldn’t be hard. Kids were always sticking gum where it didn’t belong. All George had to do was look behind one of the toilets in the boys’ bathroom or under the bleachers in the gym.

  Rumble. Grumble.

  Just then, George felt something weird deep in his belly.

  Grrrrr. Rrrrr.

  Those noises could only mean one thing: George was hungry.

  Rumble. Grumble. Grrrrr. Rrrrr.

  Really, really hungry.

  But George’s stomach was going to have to wait. He still had one more stop to make before he ate lunch—the bathroom, to wash his hands. Because there was no way George was touching his food while he had sea monkey–butt clay and ABC gum spit on his hands. That would just be way too gross.

  “We’re finally going to get to see what Chris has been working on,” Alex said that night, as he and George walked into the auditorium for the art show.

  George already knew all about Chris’s sculpture. But of course he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything. He was too worried. Worried that the gum wasn’t sticky enough and the tail on the sculpture had broken off again. Worried that Alex would figure out that someone had swiped a big glob of ABC gum from his gum ball. Worried that Chris was still mad about quitting the baseball team. Worried . . .

  “Georgie! There you are!” Sage cried out.

  . . . Worried that Sage would be following him all around the art show.

  “I knew you’d be one of the first people here,” Sage said as she raced to George’s side. “That’s why I made my parents hurry to the school. I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

  George glanced toward the table of refreshments. Sage’s parents were standing there talking to Alex’s and George’s parents. They were all sipping cups of coffee and snacking on cookies and doughnuts. With all the grown-ups around, George couldn’t totally ignore Sage. He had to be at least a little nice to her.

  “Yeah, well, we wanted to see Chris’s artwork,” George said.

  “We’re really curious,” Alex added.

  Just then, Julianna came running over. “Hi, guys!” she said. “You didn’t go over to see Chris’s piece without me, did you?”

  George shook his head. “We just got here.”

  “Great,” Julianna said. She looked around the room. “There he is,” she said, pointing to where Chris was standing.

  The kids all headed over toward Chris. But before they got very far, they came face-to-face with a huge painting of a . . . well . . . um . . . a . . . George wasn’t sure what it was!

  “What is that?” Julianna asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Alex said. “Is that a big toe in the top corner?”

  “I thought it was a thumb,” Sage said.

  “Why is there a pineapple in the middle of that cat face?” George wondered.

  “That’s not a pineapple,” Alex said. “I’m pretty sure it’s a basketball.”

  �
�And that’s not a cat,” Sage added. “It’s a lollipop with hair on it.”

  “You think Mrs. Jasper hung it upside down by mistake?” George suggested.

  Julianna bent over and tipped her head, so she could look at it upside down. “No,” she said. “It still doesn’t make any sense.”

  Just then Louie, Max, and Mike walked over.

  “So you like my painting, huh?” Louie said. “I’m not surprised. Pablo Zoocaso said I have real talent.”

  George wondered how much Mr. Farley had to pay Pablo Zoocaso to tell Louie that.

  “Um . . . what do you call this?” George asked Louie.

  “Self-Portrait,” Louie said. “Can’t you tell?”

  “This is a picture of you?” Alex asked.

  “It really looks like you, Louie,” Mike said. “Especially that eye on the bottom left.”

  “That’s not an eye,” Louie barked at him. “That’s a banana with a brown spot in the middle. Bananas are my favorite food.”

  “I thought that was your nose,” Max said. “With a pimple on it.”

  Louie frowned. “I should have known that you guys weren’t smart enough to appreciate great modern art.”

  “It’s great,” Mike assured him.

  “And modern,” Max added. “The modernest.”

  “I’m going to go over and see what Chris made,” Julianna said. She turned to George, Alex, and Sage. “You guys coming?”

  George still hadn’t made up with Chris. But he didn’t really want to be enemies with him forever. And he definitely didn’t want to stand there looking at Louie’s weird painting anymore.

  “I’m coming,” George said.

  “Me too,” Alex added.

  “Me too, Georgie,” Sage agreed.

  George rolled his eyes.

  “Well, tell him I’m sorry he won’t get that blue ribbon,” Louie said. “My painting is going to win for the best artwork in the show. Mrs. Jasper is definitely going to recognize my talent.”

  Only if she can figure out that a pineapple might be a basketball and what looks like an eye could be a banana with a pimple, George thought.

 

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