Junie B. Jones Has a Peep in Her Pocket

  Lucille pointed across the aisle.

  “Right there, silly,” she said. “You’re sitting right directly across from Grace and me. And so it’s almost like we’re sitting together. Except you will be separate.”

  I sat down.

  “But there’s nobody to talk to over here,” I told her.

  Just then, that meanie Jim jumped up from the seat behind me.

  “Me! You can talk to me!” he said very laughing.

  Then he leaned into my ear. And he hollered, “COCKLE-DOODLY-DOO!” right into my eardrum.

  “Too bad you’re afraid of roosters,” he said. “Roosters can tell if you’re afraid, Junie B. Ask anybody. Roosters always peck the scaredy-heads first.”

  “No, they do not, Jim!” I said back. “You are just making that up, probably. And anyhow, if roosters pecked people’s heads off, all farmers would have nub heads. Only they don’t. So there. Ha ha.”

  Jim raised up one eyebrow.

  “Are you sure all farmers don’t have nub heads?” he said kind of spooky. “Hmm? Are you?”

  He did a grin. “Why do you think farmers wear hats?”

  Jim leaned closer. “To cover up their nubs, that’s why,” he whispered.

  After that, he lifted up my hat.

  And he patted my head.

  And he cockle-doodly-dooed all over again.

  5/E-I-E-I-O

  The bus drove for a very long time.

  Paulie Allen Puffer was sitting with that Jim I hate. While we were riding, he stood up behind me.

  “Junie B.! Junie B.! Listen to the song we just made up!” he said.

  Then he and Jim started singing their song as loud as they could:

  “Old MacDonald had a nub.

  E-I-E-I-O.

  And on his nub he had a hat.

  E-I-E-I-O.

  With an ow! ow! here

  And an ow! ow! there.

  Here an ow! There an ow!

  Everywhere an ow! ow!

  Old MacDonald had a nub.

  E-I-E-I-O!”

  Finally, I covered my ears with my hands so I couldn’t hear them anymore.

  Then I singed a loud song of my own.

  It is called “Ha Ha. I Can’t Hear You!”

  I invented the words myself.

  “Ha ha. I can’t hear you!

  Ha ha. I can’t hear you!

  Ha ha. I can’t hear you!”

  I singed that song a jillion times, I think.

  Then, all of a sudden, the bus turned down a long dirt road.

  And oh no!

  It was the farm!

  “We’re here! We’re here! We’re here!” shouted the children very thrilled.

  I looked out the window.

  There was a big house with trees all around it. Also, there was a barn and a tractor and some chickens.

  I did a big gulp at those peckery things.

  ’Cause chickens have pointy lips, just like roosters.

  I quick scrunched down on the bus floor.

  Then I hided under my backpack very sneaky. ’Cause maybe if I kept real quiet, Mrs. wouldn’t see me. And I could hide on the bus the whole entire time.

  Lucille and that Grace stood up from their seats. I made the shh! sign at them.

  “Do not tell the teacher I’m here. And I mean it,” I whispered.

  Only too bad for me. Because just then, I heard the worstest noise in the world.

  It was the noise of a big, dumb tattletale boy.

  “TEACHER! TEACHER! JUNIE B. JONES IS HIDING ON THE FLOOR! I SEE HER! I SEE HER!” shouted that meanie Jim.

  “SHH!” I yelled.

  But Jim did not shh.

  Instead, he jumped right up on the bus seat. And he pointed his finger at me.

  “SHE’S TRYING TO HIDE UNDER HER BACKPACK SO YOU WON’T SEE HER. BUT YOU CAN SEE ALMOST ALL OF HER PERFECTLY GOOD!”

  He got off the seat and waved to me very teasing.

  “Ta-ta,” he said. Then he followed Lucille and Grace right off the bus.

  After that, my heart got very poundy inside. ’Cause I heard the sound of footprints, that’s why.

  I scrunched myself tighter.

  “Junie B.?”

  It was the voice of Mrs.

  I didn’t answer her.

  “Junie B. I see you, okay? Your backpack isn’t big enough to hide you,” she said.

  I looked up real slow.

  “Hello. How are you today?” I said kind of nervous. “I am fine. Only I’m not actually hiding.”

  Mrs. crossed her arms.

  “Then what are you actually doing?” she asked me.

  I did a gulp.

  “I’m tidying,” I said.

  “Tidying what?” asked Mrs.

  I thinked fast.

  “I’m tidying the floor,” I told her.

  I quick took off my bandanna. Then I wiped up the floor with it.

  “Good news,” I said. “It’s tidy now.”

  All of a sudden, I heard a chuckle.

  I turned my head and saw some boots.

  “Junie B. Jones,” said Mrs., “I would like you to meet Farmer Flores. Farmer Flores owns the beautiful farm we’re going to be visiting today.”

  I raised my eyes very slow.

  Then—finally—I looked all the way to the top of his head.

  That’s when my arms got shivers all over them.

  ’Cause guess what?

  Farmer Flores was wearing a hat.

  6/Farmer Flores

  Farmer Flores did a nice smile.

  “Your teacher tells me that you’re not very happy about being here today,” he said.

  I felt my forehead again.

  “I’m ill,” I said.

  “Yes, well, I’ve been thinking about how I could make this a better visit for you. And I was wondering if maybe you would like to be my special farm hand today. Do you know what a special farm hand is, Junie B.?”

  I shaked my head no.

  “Well, for one thing, the special farm hand gets to walk with the farmer in the very front of the line. Would you like that, do you think?”

  I did my shoulders up and down.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said.

  “And also, the special farm hand gets to be the very first person to sit on the tractor,” said Farmer Flores. “Does that sound like fun to you?”

  I sighed very big.

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” I said.

  “Oh,” he said. “But here’s the most important job of all. The special farm hand gets to help me keep all the children in order.”

  Just then, my mouth came all the way open!

  “In order?” I asked very thrilled. “You mean I get to order the other children around?”

  Farmer Flores rubbed his chin. “Well, yes. I suppose you could put it that way,” he said.

  I quick grabbed my backpack.

  “Well, then what are we waiting for, Farmer?” I said.

  After that, I runned off the bus speedy fast. And I clapped my hands real loud.

  “ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE. GET IN LINE. FARMER FLORES IS GOING TO SHOW US AROUND! AND HE DOESN’T HAVE ALL DAY, FOLKS!”

  Pretty soon, Farmer Flores and Mrs. came off the bus, too.

  They told the children to please hold hands like the buddy system.

  “YOU HEARD THEM, PEOPLE!” I hollered. “THE BUDDY SYSTEM! WE WILL BE USING THE BUDDY SYSTEM TODAY!”

  All of a sudden, Mrs. bended down next to my ear.

  “Helping Farmer Flores does not mean being rude, Junie B.,” she said. “I want you to be helpful and nice.”

  “But I am being helpful and nice,” I said. “’Cause I didn’t even tell anyone to shut up yet.”

  Just then, I skipped to the end of the line and checked on Paulie Allen Puffer and Jim.

  “I’ve got my eye on you two clowns,” I said very helpful and nice.

  Jim cockle-doodly-dooed at me again.

  “Yeah, only too bad for you, Jim,” I
said. “’Cause I already looked around this place for roosters. And I didn’t even see one of those meanie guys. So, ha!”

  After that, I quick skipped back to the front of the line. And me and Farmer led the children to the pasture.

  Pasture is the farm word for big grass and a fence.

  Only wait till you hear this! There were four horses and two ponies in that pasture!

  And I did not even run from them!

  “ATTENTION, PEOPLE! ATTENTION!” I hollered. “DO NOT BE AFRAID OF THE HORSES AND PONIES. JUST STAND VERY STILL AND THEY WILL NOT ATTACK YOU…PROBABLY.”

  I thought for a second.

  “ALSO, DO NOT FEED THEM CHEESE POPCORN,” I said.

  I looked at Farmer. “I learned that from the zoo,” I said.

  After that, Farmer held my hand. And we led the children to the barn.

  The barn is where the cows get milked.

  All of Room Nine held their noses in that place. ’Cause barns smell like stink and hay.

  Farmer Flores told us all about milking cows. He showed us the machines that hook up to the cows. Plus also, we saw big giant cans that hold the milk.

  After he got done, he asked if we had questions.

  I raised my hand.

  “If you breathe stink air into your body, does it make your insides smell like stink air, too?”

  Farmer didn’t answer me. Only I don’t know why. ’Cause that is a troubling question, I tell you.

  After that, he took my hand again. And we took the children to another part of the barn.

  There was a black-and-white cow there. Farmer showed us how to milk her with a milking machine.

  That is called a demo cow, I believe.

  After that, Farmer Flores was finished talking about cows.

  “Okay, boys and girls. Let’s go back outside and visit some of the other animals,” he said.

  Just then, I got a little nervous inside. On account of what if he was taking us to see the rooster?

  I walked outside very careful.

  Only good news! Farmer Flores took us right to pigs in a pen. And after that, we saw goats and lambs. And I petted a lamb on her fuzzy head!

  And that is not even the bestest part! On account of pretty soon, Mrs. Farmer Flores drove up on a shiny red tractor! And I was the first one to get to sit up there with her!

  I quick gave Mrs. my camera.

  “Take my picture, please! Take my picture up here on this tractor!”

  I smiled real big for her.

  Mrs. clicked me.

  “That will be a beaut!” I said.

  After that, I got down from the tractor. And I took a cow picture. And a pig picture. And a lamb picture!

  Plus also, I took pictures of my bestest friends named Lucille and that Grace.

  “Excellent pictures, friends!” I said real thrilled. “I can’t wait for Mother and Daddy to see them!”

  Then I hurried to the big trash can. And I throwed the camera right in there.

  “See, Grace? See, Lucille? It is called a throw-away camera. Mother said that after you take the pictures, you just throw it away and buy a new one. And so what can be easier than that?”

  “Wow!” said Grace.

  “I know it is wow, Grace,” I said. “Plus Mother said the pictures turn out beautifully.”

  All of a sudden, Mrs. runned over and she took my camera out of the trash.

  “Junie B., honey, you can’t throw the camera away before the pictures are developed,” she said.

  “Shoot,” I said. “Nothing is ever easy, is it?”

  After that, Mrs. put down blankets in the grass. ’Cause it was time for a picnic, of course!

  Me and Lucille and that Grace sat on a blanket and opened our lunch bags.

  “Yum,” I said. “Egg salad.”

  “Yum,” said that Grace. “Tuna salad.”

  “Yum,” said Lucille. “Crab salad on a flaky croissant, with a side order of greens in a light raspberry vinaigrette dressing.”

  Then all of us ate our lunches very delicious.

  7/Spike

  After lunch, it was time to get the children together again.

  I clapped my loud hands some more.

  “OKAY, PEOPLE. THE FUN IS OVER. GET YOUR BUDDY AND GET IN LINE. ON ACCOUNT OF FARMER FLORES WANTS TO TALK SOME MORE, APPARENTLY.”

  Farmer did a teensy frown at me.

  Then he holded my hand. And we walked across the yard to another fence.

  Inside the fence, there was a building and some chickens.

  “Okay, everyone,” said Farmer Flores. “This is the last stop on the tour today.”

  He pointed. “Who can tell me what that little building is right there?”

  Lucille jumped up and down real happy.

  “The gift shop! The gift shop! I’ve been wondering where that was!” she said real delighted.

  Farmer Flores did a chuckle. “Well, that’s a good guess. But most farms don’t have gift shops.”

  He looked at the class. “I’ll give you a hint,” he said. “My wife and I get eggs for our breakfast every morning from that little house there.”

  Just then, a boy named Roger jumped up and down and all around.

  “I KNOW, I KNOW!” he shouted. “IT’S A HENHOUSE!”

  Farmer Flores smiled. “Right!” he said. “It’s a house where hens lay their eggs.”

  Farmer Flores opened the gate.

  I tugged on his shirt. He bended down next to me.

  “Is there a rooster in there, too?” I asked kind of scared.

  “Just one,” he said. “But there’s lots of chickens. Want to go in and say hello?”

  I shook my head real fast. Then I runned away from the gate speedy quick.

  Paulie Allen Puffer and Jim laughed and pointed.

  “Look at Junie B. Jones!” they hollered. “Junie B. Jones is afraid of roosters!”

  Farmer Flores made an angry face at those two.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” he said. “I’m surprised at you boys. There’s nothing wrong with someone being cautious about roosters.”

  Just then, some of the other children looked kind of scared, too.

  “Why?” asked Lucille. “Is the rooster going to peck us?”

  Farmer Flores shook his head. “No,” he said. “That old rooster in there is a pretty calm fella. But that doesn’t mean Junie B. should be laughed at.”

  He smiled a little bit.

  “Why, I’ve been around farm animals all my life,” he said. “But every once in a while, I still come across an animal that I don’t get along with.”

  Farmer laughed. “In fact, we used to have a goat who nipped at me every time I got near him. And for years, I made my wife go in his pen and feed him.”

  After that, Farmer Flores winked at me. And Mrs. said I could wait outside the gate.

  My shoulders relaxed very much.

  I sat down on the grass outside the fence.

  Only wait till you hear this. Pretty soon, Farmer leaned over the fence where I was sitting. And he was holding a baby yellow chick!

  I giggled and giggled at that cute little thing.

  “A chick! A baby chick! Can I hold it, Farmer? Please, please, please?” I asked.

  Farmer Flores put the baby chick in my hands.

  It was fluffery, and softie, and light as feathers.

  “Oooooh, I love it, Farmer! I love this baby chick!”

  After that, I put the chick in the grass. And on my lap. And in my straw hat. Plus also, I put it in my big, wide pocket.

  I peeked at it in there.

  “I wish I could take you home with me,” I said. “I wish I could take you home to my house. And then you could live with me and my dog Tickle forever and ever. Would you like that? Huh? Would you?”

  The baby chick did a peep.

  “Hey! You said yes!” I said.

  I turned around. “Did you hear that, Farmer? The baby chick said it would like to come home with me!”

  Farmer
shook his head.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Junie B.,” he said. “I’m not sure you’d really like having Spike grow up at your house.”

  I did a frown at that man.

  “Spike? Who’s Spike?” I asked.

  Farmer pointed at the baby chick.

  “Spike, the chick,” he said. “We named that little guy Spike.”

  I peeked at the chick again.

  “Yeah, only Spike is not actually a good name for a fluffery baby chick,” I said.

  “I know, Junie B.,” he said. “But Spike isn’t going to be a little chick forever, you know.”

  “I know,” I said back. “’Cause someday Spike will be a big giant chick. Right, Farmer? Right? Right?”

  Farmer Flores shook his head again.

  “Well, not exactly,” he said.

  I looked at him real curious.

  “Well, if Spike won’t be a big chick, what’s Spike going to be?” I asked.

  Farmer Flores took Spike back from me.

  He held him in his hands. And patted his little softie head.

  “Someday, Junie B.,” he said, “Spike will be a rooster.”

  8/Confusion

  I had confusion in my head.

  ’Cause first I hated roosters.

  Only then I liked Spike.

  Only Spike is going to be a rooster.

  And so now what am I supposed to do?

  I didn’t talk much after that. ’Cause confusion takes a lot of thinking, that’s why.

  Plus also, I might need counseling, possibly.

  Finally, the children finished seeing the chickens. And they came out through the gate.

  Then Farmer Flores held my hand one more time. And he took us to a field with wild flowers in it.

  He said we could pick wild flowers for our mothers! ’Cause that would be like a gift from the gift shop, he said.

  After all of us had our flowers, Mrs. took our picture with that nice man.

  And here is the bestest part of all!

  Farmer Flores took off his hat!

  AND HIS HEAD WAS NOT A NUB!

  I danced all around that guy very thrilled.

  “Farmer Flores! Farmer Flores! Your head is not a nub! Your head is not a nub!”

  He wrinkled up his eyebrows. “Uh… thank you,” he said kind of quiet.