Funny Kid #3 Page 5

  “Hugo! Stop copying me! You have to paddle on one side of the canoe and I paddle on the other! Hurry!”

  “I still don’t understand why we need to catch them,” Hugo says as we finally move in a straight line.

  “I have something . . . I want to show . . . Pip,” I manage in between puffs. This canoeing thing is hard work!

  Eventually we find a rhythm and reach the middle of Lake Quiet. It’s quite a large lake and as we look back at the shore, we see that there are actually a whole bunch of camping sites that are exactly like ours dotted all along the lake’s edge. It makes me think that if you accidentally ended up in the wrong camp, you could think that everyone had packed up and gone home! I’ll store that in my little memory-bag of pranks . . .

  I roll my eyes. “We are carrying all the stuff!”

  “I was wondering why you brought your backpack as well?” Pip asks.

  I grin at her and reach down to unzip the top of my bag. Out pops Duck’s head.

  “You brought your duck!” Pip beams.

  “Where did he come from?” Hugo asks.

  “Did you seriously bring your duck camping in a backpack?” Abby demands.

  Quack. Duck hops out into the canoe.

  “You know how some super-famous people carry their dogs around in handbags?” I wink. “Well, I keep Duck in my backpack.”

  “That’s so cool,” Pip says.

  “You’re such an idiot,” Abby says.

  “Abby, we’re on a lake,” I remind her. “Ducks love lakes.”

  “Hey, did you know there are sandwiches in here?”

  We turn back and see Hugo has opened our picnic basket and found lunch. He holds up a sandwich.

  Quack!

  Before we can answer, Duck flaps his wings and charges at Hugo. Apparently when you’ve been squashed inside a backpack all morning, you get a tad peckish.

  “Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!” Hugo screams, and falls back in the canoe. “Get it off! Get it off!”

  “Help him, Max!” Pip calls out. “Poor Hugo! The duck’s attacking him!”

  I leap to my feet, just like I imagine my favorite hero, Captain Kickbutt, would do.

  “It’s okay, Hugo! I’ll save you!” I yell. “He’s going for the sandwich, not for you! Give him the sandwich!”

  “I’m coming, Hugo! Just let go of the stupid sandwich!” I try to walk, which is hard inside a very wobbly canoe.

  “Never!”

  Two picnic baskets and my backpack are between me and Hugo and Duck. How am I supposed to –?

  “Save him, Max!” Pip shouts. I glance over at her. She’s right. It’s time to be a hero.

  “Watch out for the –” Abby calls.

  I leap through the air, over the top of the baskets, and crash into the back of the canoe, tipping the thing onto its side and sending us all headfirst into the water as the canoe completely capsizes.

  “– lunch,” Abby finishes.

  “Every time I see you, you’re soaking wet,” Tyson says as he sits down on the log next to Hugo and me with his lunch.

  We’ve all made it to the picnic spot on the other side of the lake and everyone is sitting down to eat their sandwiches. Hugo and I are still dripping and feeling sorry for ourselves. Pip and Abby are sitting opposite us, scowling. Apparently they wanted lunch too.

  “Mmmmm. Delicious.” Tyson finishes his sandwich and rubs his tummy with a big grin on his face. “What a wonderful lunch!”

  “Shut up,” I mumble.

  Suddenly Tyson’s tummy lets out an enormous rumble. We all stare and Tyson’s smiling face twists into a look of pained confusion.

  “You all right there, Tyson?” Pip asks.

  “Yep,” he replies. Grumble-burp-thud-ergh. “I need to see Miss Sweet.”

  He gets up and runs to find the teacher. I wonder what’s gotten into him.

  Hugo leans toward me and whispers, “I put some of my beans in his breakfast this morning.”

  My eyes open wide and I look at my friend with a big, beaming smile. “You what?”

  He nudges my side with his elbow and winks.

  “Hugo. You. Are. Awesome,” I whisper back. “There’s nothing little about this prank war. This is going to be the nuclear strike.”

  “My tummy’s pretty used to them, but Tyson’s going to be in all sorts of trouble,” Hugo says, proud of himself.

  We look over and sure enough, Tyson is hopping from one foot to the other, pleading with Miss Sweet. I glance around us. We’re in the park on the opposite side of the lake from the campground. There’s no toilet over here!

  “Max? Can you come here a minute?”

  I realize Miss Sweet and Tyson are looking toward us.

  “I didn’t do anything!” I yell back. This time it’s actually the truth. It doesn’t seem to matter to Miss Sweet. She glares at me, so I get up and head over.

  “Max,” Miss Sweet whispers when I get there. “I need your help. Tyson’s got a bit of a . . . situation. I need you to . . . help him out.”

  What on earth does that mean?

  She reaches into her canoe and pulls out a small shovel. “I need you to go with your friend Tyson here into the woods over there, where it’s nice and private, and dig him a quick . . . hole.”

  “Ew! No! I can’t do that!”

  “Yes, you can, Max. And you will. Tyson can’t really do it himself right now. Look at him.”

  I look at Tyson. He’s bouncing up and down and slowly starting to resemble a puffer fish in a microwave.

  “Okay, quick. Go now!” Miss Sweet orders.

  I glance back at Hugo, terrified. He is suddenly no longer awesome.

  “Come on, Max!” Tyson says.

  He is already hopping off toward the tree line. Oh, this is horrible. How did this even happen? One minute we’re having a prank war and the next I have to dig a toilet for the enemy before he explodes!

  Teachers! They ruin everything!

  I drag my feet behind Tyson until I realize the longer I take, the worse it’s going to be for me. I need to dig that hole and get out of there before he blows up!

  I’m running now, straight past Tyson, to a spot behind some trees, and then I’m digging like crazy. Quick, quick, quick!

  “I don’t think I can hold it any longer!” he grunts.

  I wave frantically at the hole. “Is that enough? Is it deep enough? How do you know how deep to dig a toilet?”

  Tyson looks down and shakes his head. “Deeper. It’s going to need to be much deeper.”

  I keep digging like crazy. I’ve never done anything with this much urgency. I would rather be anywhere else in the world right now. Anywhere!

  There’s dirt flying up in every direction now. I’m like a dog trying to find a bone. I don’t care where the dirt goes, I just want to get this hole finished and get out of here!

  “I can’t hold it anymore, Max!” Tyson yells. “It’s coming out!”

  Aaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh!

  I throw the shovel over my shoulder, clamber across the mound of dirt, and dive for cover.

  I never look back. I never check to see the damage.

  I emerge from the woods a shell of my former self. Cold. Wet. Covered in dirt and vowing never to speak of what just happened.

  I really need a bath.

  After getting back from canoeing, there’s an archery lesson with Mr. Bert and an obstacle course with Miss Sweet. Then we build another campfire and eat dinner as the sun goes down.

  Tyson hasn’t said a word all afternoon. As traumatic as the Poop That Must Not Be Named was earlier, I think I might have won the prank war.

  While we eat dinner, I can’t help noticing that Hugo is staring at me and writing in his notepad.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m working on my book.”

  “The one about me?”

  He nods. “I’m just writing about how you tipped us out of the canoe today and trying to work out if you’re as embarrassed about
that as you should be.”

  I scowl at him. “I don’t like this, Hugo.”

  He smiles and writes that down too.

  Suddenly someone screams, and Pip and Abby come running up from the lake to where we’re all sitting around the fire.

  “What’s wrong?” Miss Sweet asks.

  “Saw what?” Ryan asks.

  “A Gunker Dragon, out in the water!” Pip says.

  “What did it look like?” Abby asks.

  “Just like you said it would – like a big, floating log.”

  “Maybe it was a log?” Tyson suggests. Ah, so he can speak! I was worried he might have pooed out his tongue earlier.

  His sister glares at him. “Then it dived down under the water,” she says.

  Miss Sweet walks over to Pip and starts leading her toward the lake. “Come and show me. The rest of you stay here with Mr. Bert.”

  The rest of us look at each other.

  “Do you think it’s the Gunker Dragon that took some of our stuff this morning?” Hugo asks. “Like Layla’s basketball and Kevin’s hairbrush.”

  “They are known to take things from campers,” Abby says.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous,” I say, now that Pip’s not here. “You’re making this stuff up, Abby. Or you read some stupid thing on the internet and now you think you’re seeing dragons everywhere.”

  Everyone giggles. Including Mr. Bert. Hugo is writing furiously in his notebook once more.

  “What’s everyone laughing about?”

  I look up and see that it’s Pip who’s asking! She and Miss Sweet are back from the lake.

  “Nothing,” I say quickly and then desperately try to change the subject. “Did you see the dragon again?”

  “No, we didn’t,” says Miss Sweet. “We think it was just a log, don’t we, Pip?”

  Pip shrugs, holding her phone and not looking convinced at all. “Maybe?”

  Hugo looks up from his notebook. “Hey, Max, maybe we should leave some of my super beans out for it. If they have the same effect on the dragon as they did on Tyson, we’ll know if it’s real for sure.”

  I shake my head frantically at Hugo, but it’s too late.

  “That was you guys?” Tyson asks, his eyes opening very wide. “You gave me the runs at lunchtime?”

  “Ah . . .” I try to find an answer. Turns out Tyson doesn’t really need one.

  I wake up in the middle of the night with the distinct feeling that something is wrong. In my half-asleep state, I find myself imagining Gunker Dragons, but that’s not it. I feel like the ground is moving. Not like an earthquake, just gently up and down.

  And it’s cold. Like really cold. I shiver. Did Hugo forget to zip up the tent or something?

  I think I can hear soft splashing. Hugo must be dribbling and gurgling again.

  “Hugo, shhhh!” I say without opening my eyes.

  “What?” I hear him reply.

  There’s silence then. It still feels like I’m moving though. It’s so weird. I actually feel a little sick. Maybe Tyson got back at me by putting something in my dinner. No, that doesn’t make sense, because he didn’t find out about the beans until just before bed.

  “Um, Max?” Hugo says.

  “Shhhh. I’m trying to sleep.”

  “I think you should probably open your eyes.” My friend sounds concerned.

  “Why?”

  “Just open them, Max,” Hugo says. “Max!”

  “Okay, fine!” I sit up in bed and look –

  All right. Okay. Stay calm. No big deal. Hugo and I are still in our sleeping bags and on our air mattresses. Our air mattresses are just floating out in the middle of the lake.

  THE MIDDLE OF THE LAKE!

  I quickly go to leap out of my sleeping bag, but of course that just makes the whole air mattress rock and dip wildly, and I suddenly find myself holding on for dear life.

  This has to be a dream. It must be. I can’t possibly actually be in my pajamas floating in the middle of Lake Quiet. That’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

  And that’s when I hear the laughing.

  I look back toward the shore and there, standing on the water’s edge, are Tyson, Kevin, Ryan, and Layla. It’s not a dream. We are actually out here.

  “That’ll teach you to give me the runs!” Tyson calls out.

  Behind them, I see Abby and Pip come running out of their tent and down toward the lake.

  “What are you guys doing?” Pip yells, sounding terrified. “Didn’t I just tell you I saw a Gunker Dragon out there? It lives in the water!”

  For the first time in this trip so far, I find myself genuinely considering whether these Gunker Dragons are real. I mean, of course they’re not, but . . . what if they are?

  “Maaaaxxx,” Hugo is saying, very nervously.

  “They’re not real, Hugo, don’t worry. It’s just something someone made up to scare campers,” I say, but I’m not totally sure I believe myself.

  “Get out of there!” Abby shouts.

  “Let’s just try to get back to the shore,” I say to Hugo. But I don’t know how we’re supposed to do that. We’re out on Lake Quiet without a paddle.

  I shake my head. “Look,” I say, and point toward the shore.

  Hugo looks back and sees what I see. Abby has jumped into a canoe and is paddling toward us all by herself. Even though she always tries to ruin my life, and she humiliated me back at the campfire, she’s still going to be the one to save us.

  Which is pretty awesome, given that if there’s anyone who is really convinced there’s a Gunker Dragon in this lake, it’s her.

  “You’re rescuing us?” I ask as she gets closer. We climb carefully into the canoe and head back to shore, pulling our air mattresses behind us.

  “No matter how dumb I think you guys are, I don’t want you to get eaten by a Gunker Dragon,” she says.

  Turns out Abby Purcell is not just super annoying. She’s pretty brave too.

  Back on the shore, Tyson ruffles my hair as I climb out of the canoe. “This little prank war has been fun, Maxy boy, but I’m pretty sure I win, don’t you think?”

  Before I can answer, Miss Sweet’s voice cuts in. “What on earth are you all doing up in the middle of the night? Max! Abby! Hugo! Did you just get out of that canoe? With your beds?” Miss Sweet is almost always calm, like unnaturally so. But it seems half the class getting up in the middle of the night and going into the lake on their air mattresses is what it takes to actually make her lose it. Well done, everyone – we finally pushed her to her limit!

  “None of this is my fault, Miss Sweet. I was asleep,” I point out.

  “Get back in your tents this instant! Every one of you! You kids are unbelievable!”

  “But, Miss Sweet –”

  “Abby! Shut it!”

  We all scamper toward our tents, Hugo and I dragging our beds behind us.

  Before he disappears into his tent, Tyson calls out:

  The next morning, the whole class gets a big talking-to. Miss Sweet uses her calm but very serious voice to tell us we need to be more responsible. If we’re going to be able to go on excursions like this one, she has to know she can trust us. Today is our last day, so she wants us to pack up our tents now so we’re not rushing to do it just before we get on the bus at two o’clock sharp. She makes us all repeat the departure time to make sure we don’t miss it.

  Mr. Bert is nodding along, but he looks as though he probably would have been standing on the shore laughing at Hugo and me along with the rest of them if he’d been thirty years younger.

  I spend most of the talk thinking about Pip. I’m beginning to worry that as cool as I think she is, she thinks I’m the loser her brother says I am.

  Everyone’s sent off to pack up their tents, but I don’t move from my log.

  Is Tyson right? Have I lost this prank war? I just can’t think how I’m going to top the floating bed incident. Plus, we’re going home soon.

  Ugh. This sucks.

&nbs
p; “WHO TOOK PIP’S SUITCASE?”

  I look up as Abby storms around from behind her tent, yelling at the top of her lungs.

  Abby has planted herself in the middle of the clearing. Pip stands a little behind her. No one says anything.

  “MAX! TYSON! Get over here right now!”

  Abby’s going to make a great teacher one day. Either that or she’ll run a prison.

  “I didn’t take Pip’s suitcase! Why would you think that?” I leap to my feet, keen to defend myself in front of Pip.

  Abby glares at me. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of the inside-out backpack, the bread crumbs on top of Tyson’s tent, the beans in his breakfast?”

  Tyson comes out from his tent and joins us. “It wasn’t me. Pip’s my sister. What makes you think I would –?”

  “Oh, let me think,” replies Abby, the master of sarcasm. “Maybe it was the bucket of water, the make-you-pee songs, the plastic snake in the sleeping bag, or the floating beds that make you suspicious.”

  “See, he’s totally done more than me,” I observe.

  Tyson and I both point at each other. “It was him.”

  Abby looks like she has swallowed dynamite. So Tyson says something that’s always really helpful.

  “Abby, just calm down –”

  It’s like those last two words come out in slow motion. I duck for cover. She’s going to rip his head off and under normal circumstances I would just let it happen, but poor Tyson has no idea who he’s messing with, and it’s not like I haven’t been there myself once or twice.

  “Where was the suitcase?” I ask quickly.

  “WHAT?” Abby snaps. No one likes being interrupted when they’re about to pulverize someone.

  “Pip, where was the suitcase before it went missing?” I ask. Someone needs to be a voice of reason.

  “It was in our tent,” she replies. “But the back flap of the tent has been pulled open and the suitcase is gone.”