Horrible Harry and the Stolen Cookie

by Suzy Kline

  “No! Just forget it, okay?” Harry insisted.

  “Okay,” I replied. “I won’t mention your stove again.”

  I reluctantly sealed our pact with a knuckle tap. Then Harry went to get a drink of water.

  After Harry had walked away, Mary leaned over and said, “Did you just say ‘stove’? We’re getting a new one this week! It’s going to be buttercup yellow to match our newly painted kitchen.”

  “Well, goody for you!” I snapped.

  “What did I say?” Mary asked.

  “Nothing, Mare. Forget it.” I couldn’t tell Mary about Harry’s money problem. He had asked me to keep it private, and he trusted me.

  The teacher stopped listing things on the whiteboard and turned around. “Please don’t forget to take home notices for your parents about our Sharing and Caring Tag Sale on Thursday. And remember to use the charities’ initials on your posters.”

  Everyone watched the teacher erase most of the board. Only the initials of the charities were left. When I looked over at Harry, he was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the whiteboard.

  ASPCA

  UNICEF

  GSUSA

  Suddenly Harry rushed back to his seat. “I’ve got it!” he said.

  “Got what?” I asked.

  “My favorite charity!” Harry replied. “The GS fund!”

  Mary cheered. “Yippee! Harry’s going to help earn money for the Girl Scouts!”

  Harry nodded. “Go GS!” he said, punching the air with his fist.

  Why was Harry so excited to earn money for the Girl Scouts?

  Harry raised his eyebrows. “GS . . . get it, Dougo?” he whispered. “Now I can really help Grandma!”

  What was Harry up to?

  The GS Fund

  The next morning, after Grandma Spooger dropped Harry off at school, he raced down the ramp. He had a poster rolled up under his arm.

  “I worked for two hours on my charity poster last night. Want to see it, Doug?”

  Harry unrolled the chart paper. It had five words written in big block letters. Each of the letters had stick people sitting or hanging on it.

  GIVE TO THE GS FUND!

  “That’s pretty cool,” I said.

  “Thanks, Dougo. See these guys hanging from the letters?” Harry asked. “They’re stub people!”

  I grinned. I loved those things. Harry made stub people out of anything he found on our classroom floor: pencil stubs, broken crayons, bent paper clips, and old erasers.

  “I’m making a battalion of them,” Harry continued. “I’ll sell my stub people at our tag sale and split the profits fifty-fifty between the Girl Scouts and my own GS Fund.”

  “What do you mean, your own GS Fund?” I asked.

  Harry cupped his hands around my ear and whispered his answer. “Grandma’s Stove.”

  “Your grandma’s stove?” I repeated. “Wait a minute . . . you mean the GS Fund is not the Girl Scouts?”

  Harry slowly nodded. “Charity begins at home,” he explained.

  “You can’t do that!” I objected. “Everyone will think their donations are going to the Girl Scouts, and they won’t be. That’s false advertising! Besides, if anyone catches you, you could get in big trouble. People go to jail for stealing stuff!”

  “I’m not stealing,” Harry snapped. “I’m earning money for two good charities: the Girl Scouts and my grandmother!”

  I gritted my teeth. “Harry, Grandma Spooger is not a charity!”

  Harry stared at his poster. He wasn’t listening to me anymore.

  “Hey, Dougo,” he said, “which stub person on my poster do you like best?”

  “Harry!” I shouted. “You’re being stubborn!”

  When the bell rang, Harry took off for the school door. “I can’t wait to show Miss Mackle my poster!” he called out.

  Harry was on a collision course.

  I had to think of something to stop him!

  Moolah Moolah

  Thursday morning, Miss Mackle asked us to arrange our desks in a big U shape. She wanted all the students who visited our tag sale to see what we were selling.

  I was still working on a plan to stop Harry. I moved my desk next to Harry’s. I had to keep an eye on him.

  Harry had one hundred stub people lined up in ten rows. I liked the General best. He was a big old eraser with an army hat made out of a brown crayon wrapper. Harry gouged out eyes and put bits of black crayon in the holes for pupils. He even bent a paper clip to give the General a silver mustache.

  “Your stub people are awesome,” I said.

  “Thanks, Dougo.” Harry grinned.

  “How come you don’t have a stub girl?” Mary asked.

  “Actually, I do have one,” Harry said. He lifted up a tall pencil stub with long yellow yarn hair. He had penned in two eyes on her eraser head. “Her name is Sue Per. Get it?”

  Song Lee came over to admire it. “She’s so cute!” she exclaimed. “Do you think Sue Per would like a bow in her hair?”

  “Sure,” Harry replied. We watched Song Lee tie a red string around Sue Per’s yellow hair. The red bow added a lot. “Now she has a ponytail!” Song Lee giggled.

  Mary clapped her hands. “You should have made more girls, Harry,” she said. “Sue Per looks like a basketball player!”

  “Trade you Sue Per for one of your bread rolls,” he suggested.

  “No, thanks,” Mary replied. “It isn’t a fair trade. My rolls are worth more than your stub people. And they’re challah rolls, Harry. Not plain rolls.”

  I looked at Mary’s desk. Each golden challah roll had a six-strand braid and was wrapped in clear plastic with a pink bow. She and her mom had made four dozen.

  “If I charge fifty cents apiece for them,” Mary said, “I’ll earn twenty-four dollars for the Girl Scouts!”

  “Well, I know I don’t have fifty cents.” Harry groaned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of dirty coins, one bottle cap, and some cat hair. “This is my life savings.”

  Mary rolled her eyes.

  Harry tugged at my sleeve. “How much do you think I should charge for each stub person, Dougo?” he asked.

  Mary answered right away, “A penny, maybe? But two cents for Sue Per.”

  “Very funny, Mare,” Harry said.

  Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. “I think your stub people are worth lots of money,” I said.

  Harry got a toothy smile. “You mean . . . lots of moolah moolah?”

  “Yes! They’re original art,” I continued. “You should charge a dollar each.”

  “Whoa,” Harry replied. “You think I could sell them for that much?”

  Of course he couldn’t. But I wasn’t going to tell Harry that.

  “Absolutely!” I said.

  It was a perfect plan. If Harry couldn’t sell his stub people, then he wouldn’t have any money to steal! “Harry,” I said, “one dollar is a bargain for those guys. Maybe more for the General.”

  Mary looked down at her poster. I knew she didn’t want Harry to see her laughing. I felt bad having to fib to Harry, but it was the only thing I could come up with. I had to do something!

  “Okay, one buck it is!” Harry said. And he got busy making a sign that said ONE DOLLAR EACH. He also added a special price tag for the General. Five dollars!

  I had to look away. I was beginning to feel guilty.

  Harry tapped me on the shoulder. “If I sell all of my stub people, I’ll have about fifty smackeroos for Grandma’s stove,” he whispered.

  I gritted my teeth. I didn’t feel guilty anymore. I grabbed one of the books I was selling.

  “See the title of this one?”

  “That’s Curious George,” Harry replied. “I’ve read it lots of times.”

&n
bsp; I put my nose in Harry’s face. “Remember the part where George goes to jail?”

  Harry put two thumbs in the air. “Yeah! That’s my favorite part, because George escapes!”

  Harry was not getting my message. I just had to hope that he didn’t make one single sale.

  Sid's Warm Cookies

  Just as we were about to begin our tag sale, Sidney burst into the room with a dog and cat poster under his arm. His stepdad was right behind him, carrying two big boxes. We could smell chocolate as soon as they entered the room.

  “Sorry I’m late, guys,” Sid said. “I was baking chocolate chip cookies. We just took them out of the oven this morning. Nothing like warm cookies!” He had one in his hand. It was so soft and warm it broke into two pieces. I could see melted chocolate oozing out. Sidney quickly popped the cookie into his mouth. “I can’t sell a broken one,” he mumbled.

  Harry frowned. A working oven was a sore subject for him.

  As I watched Sidney eat that delicious broken cookie, I got another idea for a plan. It was a horrible thing to do to a friend. But if Harry was able to sell just one stub person, I would have to use it.

  “They smell divine,” Miss Mackle said.

  “Well, Sid forgot a few things,” Mr. LaFleur said. “He didn’t tell me he needed something to sell at the fair until early this morning. So that’s why the cookies are warm.”

  Miss Mackle sighed. “Oh, that’s too bad,” she said. “Sidney, didn’t you bring home the reminder notice on Monday?”

  “I . . . forgot,” Sid confessed. “I’m really sorry.”

  “He’s going to bring home school notices from now on!” Mr. LaFleur said sternly. “And, do his homework on time. Right, Sid?”

  “Right,” Sid insisted. Then he taped his animal shelter poster to the front of his desk.

  “Okay, guys. Good luck on your charity fair,” Mr. LaFleur called out. He gave his stepson a kiss on the head and left.

  Sid took the lid off one of the boxes. The chocolate chip cookies were each in a sealed plastic Baggie. It was torture not being able to eat one. They smelled even more chocolaty with the lid off the box.

  Ida handed baby food jars to each of us. “These are for your money,” she said. “I have lots more jars at home. My baby sister loves to eat.”

  Miss Mackle said, “Let’s give Ida a big hand for washing them out and bringing them in.” Everyone clapped for Ida.

  “At the end of the day,” Miss Mackle said, “you will dump your earnings into one of the three large mayonnaise jars on my desk.”

  Each one had a set of initials on it: ASPCA, GSUSA, or UNICEF.

  We all nodded. Even Harry.

  Then Harry showed me a brown leather coin purse he had inside his desk. “For my own GS fund. I’ll take it home after school,” he whispered.

  I crossed my fingers that Harry wouldn’t sell a single one of his overpriced stub people.

  Kerplink! Kerplunk!

  “Someone’s at the door!” Sid shouted.

  The first group that came into Room 3B was a fourth grade class. Our art teacher, Mrs. Mattalatta, was with them. “I love your posters!” she exclaimed. “They’re so colorful!”

  It wasn’t long before we heard the sounds of the first few sales. Two kids bought chocolate chip cookies from Sid for thirty cents each.

  Kerplink! Kerplunk! Sid dropped the change into his glass jar.

  Mrs. Mattalatta bought two of Mary’s braided challah rolls. Kerplink! Kerplunk! Mary proudly deposited the silver coins in her baby food jar.

  “I’ll get that Curious George book for my little brother,” a fourth grade girl said as she handed me a quarter.

  “Thanks!” I dropped the coin into my jar. My first sale! Kerplink!

  Lots of the fourth grade girls gathered around Song Lee’s and Ida’s desks. “Oh . . . those bracelets are so cute!” a girl said.

  “I love the colors! I’m getting two. One for each wrist!” said another.

  Song Lee and Ida were busy handing out their braided string bracelets and depositing coins in their money jars. Kerplink! Kerplunk! Kerplink! Kerplunk! Just as quickly as they sold a batch, they brought out another from their box of reserves on the floor.

  Harry sat at his desk, waiting. Two fourth grade boys stopped by and looked at the stub people. One picked up the General. “Cool,” he said. Then he saw the five dollar price tag and walked away.

  Harry got a long face.

  Mrs. Mattalatta stopped by and admired Harry’s work, too. “I’m going to do a stub people art lesson someday. They look like fun, Harry. What a good way to recycle old materials!”

  Harry tried to smile, but Mrs. Mattalatta didn’t buy one, either.

  By the time the first class left, everyone had made a sale except Harry. His stub people were still lined up on his desk in ten rows. “I’m changing the price,” Harry mumbled. “It’s too much moolah moolah.”

  “Just remember it’s original art,” I said. I hoped he’d keep the price high.

  Harry shook his head. “Nah, I gotta get real.” And he crossed off ONE DOLLAR and wrote, SALE PRICE FIFTEEN CENTS. The General was a quarter.

  “You’re just charging fifteen cents?” I replied. “That’s a steal!” And then right after I said that, I nodded to myself. That’s what Harry was planning to do. Steal from the Girl Scouts!

  The fifth grade group that came next bought lots of Harry’s stub people.

  They loved them. One tall boy bought the General. He pretended to make him talk as he stopped by my book display. He picked up The Book of Lists and said to me in his General voice, “I like this book. It has lots of facts in it. Maybe there will even be some about the army.” And then the tall boy made the General jump on top of the book.

  “Thanks,” I said, dropping his quarter into my jar.

  Harry was busy collecting silver coins for his stub people. He dropped some into his money jar, and some into the brown leather coin purse in his desk. I couldn’t stand watching him zip that thing open and closed.

  I knew I had to use my horrible plan. It was just a matter of when.

  My Horrible Chocolate Chip Cookie Plan

  As the afternoon rolled on, Harry sold all his stub people. The second graders especially loved them. “I can’t believe it, Dougo!” Harry exclaimed. “I sold my entire battalion of men!”

  “Yes, you did,” I said. I wasn’t smiling.

  Harry lowered his voice. “I earned fifteen dollars and ten cents, Dougo. Seven dollars and fifty-five cents for the Girl Scouts and seven dollars and fifty-five cents for my GS Fund. That’s fair and square.”

  That’s it! I thought. It was time to put my horrible plan into action. “Hey, Harry. We’ve been smelling chocolate all day. Do you want to chip in with me and buy a cookie from Sid? Fifteen cents each. We can split it after school.”

  I noticed Mary was listening. She leaned over and held up one of her rolls. She wanted us to buy one.

  Harry thought hard about what I had said. “I sure do miss Grandma’s cookies. There’s no home cooking when your oven is broken. And ours has been broken for five days now. Who knows how long it will take to save up the money to repair it?”

  Mary raised her eyebrows. I immediately turned my back to her. I didn’t want Harry to see she was eavesdropping. Harry still wanted to keep his family problem a secret.

  “Okay.” Harry reached into his pants pocket and dumped everything onto the table. A handful of dirty coins, a bottle cap, and some cat hair. “Sixteen cents,” Harry said. “That’s all I have.” He handed me fifteen cents, then returned the one lone penny and bottle cap to his pocket. He left the cat hairs on his desk.

  Much to Mary’s disappointment, I took Harry’s pennies over to Sid’s desk. I bought one cookie with Harry’s fifteen cents plus the fifteen cents that I had in my p
ocket.

  “That’s my last cookie,” Sid said. “My stepdad and I tripled the recipe, too.”

  I took the plastic Baggie with the good-sized chocolate chip cookie and walked over to the coat rack where my lunch box was. No one could see me back there, or what I was doing. So I took my time.

  When I finally returned to my seat, Harry was smiling from ear to ear. He was probably thinking about eating his half of that delicious cookie after school.

  “Boys and girls,” Miss Mackle said, “it’s time to put your money into one of the three donation jars. Please line up by my desk.”

  Harry tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Doug. Did you put our cookie in your lunchbox?”

  I waited for Mary to go to the end of the line. I didn’t want her to hear what I was going to say. When the coast was clear, I looked my buddy square in the eye. “Sorry, Harry, I couldn’t help myself. I ate the whole thing.”

  “You what?” Harry replied.

  “Ate it.”

  “But . . . that was supposed to be our cookie. I gave you my fifteen cents.”

  “Well, it’s gone now.”

  “You stole that money from me! It was mine. My life savings!” Harry objected. His nose was in my face.

  I stared right into Harry’s brown eyeballs.

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing with the Girl Scout money?” I whispered. “Taking something that’s not yours?”

  Harry suddenly leaned back. “How could you do that to me, Douglas?”

  Douglas? That was new. He had never called me that before.

  “You’re a thief!” Harry snarled. “You stole my half of the chocolate chip cookie!” As soon as those words came out of his mouth, he looked away.

  Neither of us said anything more. I just looked out the window and scowled.

  When Mary returned to her seat, she was frowning, too.