by Bill Harley
Published by
PEACHTREE PUBLISHERS
1700 Chattahoochee Avenue
Atlanta, Georgia 30318-2112
www.peachtree-online.com
Text © 2014 by Bill Harley
Illustrations © 2014 by Adam Gustavson
First trade paperback edition published in 2015.
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—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Design and composition by Nicola Simmonds Carmack
The illustrations were rendered in India ink and watercolor.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Harley, Bill, 1954-
Charlie Bumpers vs. the Really Nice Gnome / by Bill Harley; illustrated by Adam Gustavson.
pages cm
ISBN 978-1-56145-930-8 (ebook)
Summary: Charlie has looked forward to being in the fourth-grade play, but is not at all happy when Mrs. Burke assigns him the role of the Nice Gnome.
[1. Theater—Fiction. 2. Schools—Fiction. 3. Behavior—Fiction. 4. Family life—Fiction. 5. Humorous stories.] I. Gustavson, Adam, illustrator. II. Title. III. Title: Charlie Bumpers versus the really Nice Gnome.
PZ7.H22655Cgr 2014
[Fic]—dc23
2013026218
To Michele Eaton, who helps us keep it all together
Thanks to my insightful readers, Debbie Block, Michele Eaton, and Jane Murphy; to Linda and Irshad Hazue for their kind hospitality; and to Vicky Holifield, my very fine editor.
Contents
1—What’s a Thespian?
2—I Am Ruined!
3—The Call of Nature
4—The Dumb Fox
5—The Squid Is Persistent
6—The Magic Rabbit of Gorlandia
7—That’s Ridiculous
8—I Hope There’s Nothing Dead in It
9—Would You Like Some Fries with That?
10—Charlie Bumpers! Criminal!
11—A Keg of Root Beer
12—I Don’t Think So!
13—Gnome Pants
14—You Look Like You Are Lost
15—The Biggest Bozo on the Planet
16—That Kid with the Beard
17—A Million Chairs
18—No Idea What to Say
19—Mwa-ha-ha-ha!
1
What’s a Thespian?
“Are you ready, thespians?” Mrs. Burke asked. “Are your desks cleared?”
“Yes,” we all answered.
“But Mrs. Burke,” I asked, “what’s a—”
“Charlie,” Mrs. Burke said. “What’s that on the floor?”
I looked down. Somehow my math sheet had fallen on the floor. There was a sneaker mark on it. I picked up the paper and stuffed it in my desk.
Mrs. Burke frowned and shook her head. “Okay, all of you thespians,” she said, “please listen carefully.”
“What’s a thespian?” I blurted out.
“Charlie, have you forgotten Rule Number Four of Mrs. Burke’s Empire?” she asked.
“Raise your hand,” Samantha Grunsky hissed, poking my back with a pencil.
Having Samantha tell me what to do was annoying. But I still wanted to know the answer to my question, so I raised my hand. But Samantha’s was already up and Mrs. Burke called on her.
“Yes, Samantha,” Mrs. Burke said.
“I know what a thespian is,” she said.
That figures, I thought. She already knows everything.
“It’s an actor,” Samantha said.
I looked back at her and she gave me one of her I-know-everything looks.
“That’s correct,” Mrs. Burke said, “and today I want to talk about our play.”
I squirmed in my seat. Maybe she was going to give us our parts for the play. It was hard to sit still. I already knew the part I really wanted.
Every year, each fourth-grade class does a special project. Mrs. Ladislavski’s class (everyone calls her Mrs. L.) designs an obstacle course for the whole school to run through. Ms. Lewis’s class makes a special lunch with food from all around the world.
Mrs. Burke’s fourth-grade class presents a play. Everyone comes to see it, even the parents. There are lights and costumes and props and everything.
Last year the play was The Elephant’s Surprise, and it was pretty good even though the elephant’s cardboard trunk fell off halfway through the play and Mrs. Burke had to come out and hold it up every time the elephant talked.
At first, I thought I wasn’t going to like doing a play. My older brother Matt told me I would have to be a bunny or something, and I didn’t want to be a bunny. Especially if Matt or someone else was going to make fun of me.
But then last week Mrs. Burke read us the play. It was called The Sorcerer’s Castle, and it was great. Really great. There was a bunny in it, but it was stuffed, so I was safe there.
The part I wanted to play was the sorcerer. His name was Kragon. The Evil Sorcerer Kragon. Mwa-ha-ha-ha!
It was the best part in the play. And it was really the only part I wanted. But I knew four other boys wanted to be Evil Sorcerer Kragon, too. And two girls.
Only one of us would get it.
Mrs. Burke picked up a big stack of papers. “I’m going to hand out scripts that will be yours to keep,” she said. “At the top of the first page I’ve stapled a piece of paper that says what your part is.”
This was it! Now my legs were jiggling and I couldn’t sit still. Even my hair was tingling.
I had to be the Evil Sorcerer Kragon. I knew that I could do the part really well—if I just got the chance.
Please, please, please, please, please! I thought.
“Your first assignment,” Mrs. Burke continued, “is to go through all the pages and mark the lines that are yours. Wherever you see the name of your character, underline that part.”
Mrs. Burke started calling people to the front of the class to get their scripts. I sat on the edge of my seat, ready to jump up. If she was going in alphabetical order, I would be called soon, since my last name is Bumpers. But then I heard her call Cory Filkins, so she wasn’t going alphabetically.
Boogers! I couldn’t wait much longer.
The kids who already had their scripts started whispering about their parts. I thought I heard Cory say something about “Sorcerer,” but then Manny Soares said, “Me, too,” so I figured they were the Sorcerer’s Assistants.
Finally, after a million years, Mrs. Burke called my name.
My heart was really beating as I walked up. She handed me my script. “This is a big part, Charlie,” she said, smiling. “I know you can do it.”
I nodded. This was a good sign. The Evil Sorcerer Kragon was a big part.
When I got back to my desk, I looked down at the piece of paper stapled to the top of my script.
I looked up at Mrs. Burke, then at the paper again.
There must be some mistake!
I checked to make sure this was my script. “Charlie Bumpers” was printed on the upper right-hand side of the paper.
“The Nice Gnome?” I said out loud. “I’m the Nice Gnome?”
2
I Am Ruined!
If I had to make a list of parts I did not want in The Sorcerer’s Castle, the Nice Gnome would be at the very top. It wasn’t just that gnomes are pudgy little guys with pointy hats or that gnomes remind me of one of the squishy plush dolls my sister keeps on her bed. I didn’t want the part because the Nice Gnome is
ridiculously nice. Everything he does in the play is nice. He helps the Prince and Princess when they get stuck in the swamp. He bandages up the Fox when his paw is hurt. He’s always polite.
He’s so good it makes your teeth hurt.
But the main problem with the Nice Gnome was this:
He was boring.
The Evil Sorcerer Kragon was the opposite of boring. He was a bad guy, but in a very funny way. I already knew how to do his evil laugh because I had practiced it in my bathroom at home, looking in the mirror and rubbing my hands together.
“Mwa-ha-ha-ha! Mwa-ha-ha-ha!”
Also, the Evil Sorcerer Kragon has absolutely the best lines in the whole play. When things go wrong for him, he shouts, “You horrible people! My plans are ruined! My dreams are ruined! I am ruined!”
I had practiced that part a hundred times. Or at least four.
But now Mrs. Burke had given me the part of the Nice Gnome. Why would she do that? I wasn’t that nice and I didn’t look like a gnome.
I looked over at Hector. He was reading his script.
“What part did you get?” I asked.
“I’m the Prince’s Servant,” he said.
I nodded. Hector was from Chile, where they speak Spanish, and English was his second language. He was good at it—but still kind of shy. I thought about asking him to trade parts, but I knew he wouldn’t want to learn all the Nice Gnome’s lines.
Because there were a lot of them.
And they were all dumb.
Mrs. Burke was still handing out parts, so I leaned over toward Josh Little’s desk.
“What part did you get?” I asked.
Josh smiled. “The Slimy Snake of the Swamp.”
That was an excellent part. If I couldn’t be the Evil Sorcerer Kragon, I would have settled for the Slimy Snake.
“I got the Nice Gnome part,” I said. “It has a lot of lines.”
I wondered why Mrs. Burke hadn’t chosen Josh Little for the Nice Gnome. He would be a perfect Nice Gnome. The truth was, Josh Little was a nice gnome. He was polite and did everything right. Except for the time he threw up on Mrs. Burke’s desk, which was an accident because he was sick.
“I wish I was the Slimy Snake instead of the Nice Gnome,” I said.
“Well, Mrs. Burke decided which parts we should have, so she probably has a good reason for giving you that part.”
Exactly what a nice gnome would say.
Just then I heard Sam Marchand’s voice. “Mwa-ha-ha-ha! My plans are ruined! My dreams are ruined. I am ruined!”
My stomach sank. Now I knew who the Sorcerer was.
And then it got even worse.
“Guess what?” Samantha Grunsky said to me. “I’m the Princess!”
I put my head down on my desk.
Boogers! It was my perfect nightmare!
The Nice Gnome spends most of his time very nicely helping the Prince and Princess get to the Sorcerer’s castle. Which meant I was going to have to be nice to Samantha Grunsky!
I couldn’t believe Mrs. Burke had made me Samantha Grunsky’s helper! Mrs. Burke was more evil than the Evil Sorcerer Kragon, who had kidnapped the Queen’s Magic Talking Rabbit.
Before I could say anything, Mrs. Burke snapped her exploding fingers. Our teacher has the loudest fingers on the planet—they sound like miniature atomic bombs going off. Everyone got quiet. Alex McLeod, Mr. Crazy Legs, had been running around looking at everyone else’s scripts, and even he scooted back to his seat.
“Alex,” Mrs. Burke said, “if you get up one more time today, I’m going to chain you to your seat.”
She was joking. I think. Mrs. Burke has a weird sense of humor.
“All right,” she said. “Everyone has their parts. Please mark your lines tonight. Now it’s time to get ready to go home.”
I raised my hand. I wanted to ask her about changing parts. I’d take just about any other part but the Nice Gnome, except for the stuffed bunny. I’d even be one of the Mice in the Woods if I had to.
But Mrs. Burke just kept talking. “I worked hard to find good roles for everyone, and I want you to start learning your lines right away. People in the first scene, please try to have your lines memorized by next Monday. The rest of you, read over your parts. Stage crew, please go over the whole play so you know the scenes.”
I still had my hand up.
“Do you have a question, Charlie?”
There was something about the way she asked that made me think this wasn’t a good time. I lowered my hand and shook my head.
I was still the Nice Gnome.
3
The Call of Nature
On the bus ride home, I sat down next to my best friend, Tommy Kasten. My little sister Mabel (my dad calls her “Squirt,” but I call her “the Squid”) was sitting in the front of the bus with Tommy’s sister Carla. Tommy and I aren’t in the same class this year—he’s in Mrs. L.’s class—but we’re still best friends.
“I got the worst part in the play,” I said.
“What is it?” Tommy asked. “The talking elephant? I hope they got a better trunk this year!”
“No. It’s a different play. But a worse part. I’m the Nice Gnome.”
“The Nice Gnome?” Tommy laughed.
“It’s not funny! I wanted any part but that one. And I have to help the Princess. And guess who the Princess is?”
Tommy didn’t have to guess. “Samantha Grunsky.”
“Right! I really wanted to be the Evil Sorcerer Kragon, but Sam Marchand got that part.”
“Evil Sorcerer. That sounds like a great part,” Tommy said.
“It is! But I have to be the Nice Gnome.”
“Do you have to look kind of tubby and wear one of those pointy hats and talk in a squeaky voice or something?”
“Probably,” I muttered.
“Maybe you could change parts with someone.”
“I don’t know. Mrs. Burke said she worked hard to pick out the roles.” I looked out the bus window and thought about my teacher. I liked Mrs. Burke, but she was really strict. “I know her. She likes to do things her way.”
“But couldn’t you explain to her why you can’t do the Nice Gnome part?” Tommy asked. “If you gave a really good reason, maybe she’d listen.”
When the Squid and I got home, Matt was already there—the middle school gets out earlier than ours. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine called Gamer’s World. Matt’s crazy about computer games and plays them all the time, even though Mom and Dad are always telling him to do something else.
Mom was still at work—she’s a nurse who visits people at their homes. Dad usually got home right before supper.
I grabbed some cookies from the jar on the counter and collapsed onto a kitchen chair. I thought About what Tommy had said on the bus.
“Don’t forget to walk Ginger,” Matt said.
“I know,” I said.
“You should do it now,” said the Squid as she sat down across from me.
“You’re not my boss, Mabel.”
Ginger was already jumping around, eager to go out, but I didn’t feel like doing it.
“It’s your job,” the Squid said. “Remember when we all agreed on our jobs?” Then she skipped out of the room.
I remembered. But we hadn’t exactly agreed on them. Dad had announced that we all had to have special chores. Matt got to be in charge of carrying out the garbage cans and recycling bins and getting dinner started when Mom and Dad were going to be late. The Squid was in charge of setting the table and sweeping the kitchen and straightening the family room.
It was my job to feed Ginger twice a day and walk her every afternoon. Mom said since I begged the most for the dog, I should be the one to walk her. But it didn’t seem fair that I had to do something that took more time than anyone else’s job.
The Squid wanted a cat. Matt said he didn’t want anything he had to take care of, unless it was a python. I’m not sure Mom and Dad wanted either a dog
or a cat. But they definitely did not want a python.
Since I wanted a dog the most, I had to walk Ginger. Plus, Dad said I was old enough and the Squid wasn’t.
I know Ginger is mainly my dog, and I like playing ball with her and having her sleep in my room. But it still didn’t seem fair. Matt and the Squid played with Ginger sometimes, too. Shouldn’t they have to walk her once in a while?
Instead of walking Ginger, I stomped into the family room and flopped down on the couch. I turned on the television, but then turned the volume down really low so no one would hear. Buck Meson— Detective from Andromeda, my favorite show, was just starting. I didn’t get to see it very often, since Mom didn’t want us to watch television during the week. But I figured I could see the first part and then walk Ginger.
Buck Meson is a superhero who came from another planet to solve mysteries on earth. He can do this great thing with his eyes—shoot beams of electrons at people so they drop whatever weapons they’re holding. He never uses his power to hurt anyone, which is pretty amazing. I would think he might want to use his electron stare once or twice on some bad guy’s rear end, just to teach him a lesson.
He has a bunch of great lines he says all the time. When the bad guys are about to do something really terrible, Buck always says, “I DON’T THINK SO!”
Then he does his electron stare.
It’s pretty cool.
If only Mrs. Burke’s play had someone like Buck Meson in it. Maybe she would have given me that part instead of the dumb Nice Gnome.
The Buck Meson theme song came on. It’s this sort of space rap and I know all the words by heart. I sang along:
Buck Meson! Standing tall.
Buck Meson! He fights for all.
Known in every nebula,
Detective from Andromeda!
I was only planning to watch a minute or two, especially since Ginger kept whimpering and licking my face. But then it got pretty exciting and before I knew it, Mom was standing in the doorway of the family room.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
