Judy Moody and the Right Royal Tea Party

  Un-believe-a-bling!

  “What is it, Jelly Bean?” asked Grandma Lou.

  “Your peacock pin,” said Judy. “It’s like those fancy jewels in the queen’s crown. Shouldn’t it be in a museum or something?”

  Grandma Lou laughed. “This old thing? I came across it when I was looking for the Moody crest to help you with your family tree project.” She took it off and held it out for Judy to see. “It’s just junk jewelry. I think I got it at a bazaar when I was in the Peace Corps in India.”

  “It’s like those world-famous jewels Stink and I saw in that hall of rocks. At the Museum of Natural History.”

  Stink bounced down the stairs. “Let me see!” He wormed his way past Judy. “Whoa,” he said in a hush.

  “It looks like a star that fell right out of the sky,” said Judy.

  “Did you know the Star of India is the world’s largest star sapphire?” said Stink. “It’s like two billion years old. No lie.”

  “Interesting,” said Grandma Lou.

  “And the Patricia Emerald is this big green stone and it has twelve sides and it was named for a girl.”

  “I’d sure like to see that someday,” said Grandma Lou. She handed Judy a folder. “I just stopped by to drop off these pictures of the Moody family crest. It might give you some ideas.”

  “Aren’t you going to stay?” asked Judy.

  “Not today, Jelly Bean. I’m taking Pugsy to a playdate at the park.”

  Grandma Lou pinned the peacock on Judy’s hoodie. “I hereby bequeath this gem upon you, Your Royal Highness, Judy the Great.”

  “For real? Wait till Tori hears about this!”

  Judy and Stink studied the peacock pin up close. “Sapphires, emeralds, and a diamond for the peacock’s eye. It must be a billion years old,” said Stink.

  Judy shined a flashlight on the largest stone. “Look at the way it changes color in the light. Like my mood ring!”

  “It’s a mood sapphire,” said Stink.

  “The Royal Moody Sapphire! It’s gem-brilliant! Queens are way into peacocks, you know. Peacocks are a symbol of royalty, Stink. Maybe it belonged to a queen.”

  Stink’s eyes sparkled like gemstones. “What if this was from Mudeye Moody’s secret stash of pirate booty? Maybe he hid it on a desert island. Then when he escaped, he dug it up.”

  “Yeah! Then he sailed around the world on the seven oceans and a pirate’s monkey stole it and carried it off. But the monkey dropped it in the ocean and a fish swallowed it.”

  “Then they found it inside the fish!” said Stink, clapping his hands.

  “So maybe that’s how it made its way to a street fair in India, where Grandma Lou found it again after hundreds of years,” Judy said. “Who knew when I started a family tree that we’d find Moody crown jewels?”

  The room got quiet. Gobsmacked quiet. “You know what this needs, Stink? A place of honor. A special safe place where we can admire it anytime we want.”

  “Like a Moody museum?”

  “Exactly,” said Judy. “Follow me, Stinker. I have a right-royal-rare idea.”

  Judy led the way to the Toad Pee tent in the backyard. She pinned the crown jewel of the Royal House of Moody to a fancy pillow. She placed the pillow of honor in the center of the Toad Pee tent. “Behold the Royal Moody Sapphire.”

  Judy and Stink stood in awe. They were starstruck, Star-of-India-struck, just gazing at the crown jewel of the Royal House of Moody.

  After they gazed at the bedazzling jewel for one whole minute — which felt like a fortnight — Judy broke the spell by tugging at Stink’s arm.

  She pulled him outside the tent. “Stand there, Stinkerbell. You are officially an official member of the official queen’s guard.”

  “I am?”

  “It’s official,” said Judy.

  Stink started to slump. He scratched his head. He dug his toe in the dirt.

  “Stand up straight, Stink. Stop fidgeting.” Judy put a black top hat on Stink’s head. “This will be your uniform, like the guards at the Tower of London wear.”

  The hat came down over Stink’s eyes. He laughed. “I can’t see!”

  “Stand still. The queen’s guards do not wriggle. They barely even blink. And they definitely do not giggle.”

  “No wriggling. No giggling. Got it.” Stink giggled.

  “You’re giggling right now, Stinker. This is a very important job. You hold the keys and protect the priceless jewels.”

  Judy told Stink about the way-official Ceremony of the Keys and what to say.

  “Halt! Who goes there?” said Stink.

  “The keys!” said Judy.

  “Whose keys?”

  “The queen’s keys.”

  “Pass the queen’s keys,” said Stink. “All is well.”

  “Rare!” said Judy. “Now remember, Stinkerbell, no matter what happens, you stand there and guard, okay?”

  Stink nodded.

  “No nodding!” said Judy. Stink held his head statue-still. He tried not to blink.

  “Cheerio!” Judy waved as she went back into the house. She noshed on a banana. She read The Trumpet of the Swan. She played hide-and-seek with Mouse. She drew a knight’s head at the top of the Moody crest. She drew peacock feathers around a shield. She drew a pirate, a crown, a ship, and a lioness inside the shield.

  Seconds went by. Minutes. An hour. Judy wrote a snail-mail letter to Tori. She watched some telly and played tic-tac-toe with Mouse and put on her pj’s and got ready for Bedfordshire. She zonked out in no time.

  “Hey, anybody?” called Stink without moving his head. “How long do I have to stand out here, anyway?”

  The next morning, Judy was dig-dig-digging in the dirt around the Toad Pee tent.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Digging.” Puff, puff, puff.

  “Digging what?”

  “I’m making a moat around the Toad Pee tent, Stink.” Puff, puff.

  “Why?”

  “To protect the Moody crown jewels. Somebody was supposed to stand guard outside the T. P. tent. Somebody was supposed to guard the Royal Moody Sapphire. But somebody left his post.”

  “Somebody got hungry,” said Stink. “And tired.”

  “Royal guards do not sleep, Stink. Or eat.” She handed Stink a shovel. Stink started digging. Puff, puff.

  “The moat is going to hold all the fishes royal, too.”

  “Fishes royal?”

  “The Queen of England loves animals. She’s had more than thirty palace dogs in her lifetime. And she owns all the fish in the water around England.”

  “For real?” Stink dug some more. Puff, puff, puff.

  “For real. She even owns all the swans in the Thames River.”

  “What about whales?”

  “Yep. Them too. And porpoises and dolphins and —”

  “What about tuna fish?”

  “All the fish, Stink.”

  “Even stinky sushi?” asked Stink.

  “Even stinky sushi.”

  Stink stopped digging. He tossed down his shovel. “I’m tired of digging.”

  “But you hardly —”

  “I’m going over to Webster’s for a thumb-wrestling match.”

  “Fine,” said Judy. “But don’t think when you come home all sweaty you’re going to swim in my moat!”

  When Stink came home from Webster’s house, he ran outside to see the moat. Judy lay on her tummy, staring into a puddle.

  Something was floating in the puddle! Something shiny. Something red and purple. Something with fan-like fins and a floaty tail. Something that looked an awful-lot-exactly like Stink’s Siamese fighting fish!

  “Is that . . . ?” asked Stink, leaning over to peer into the puddle.

  “That’s my royal fish,” said Judy.

  “That’s my royal fish!” cried Stink.

  “His name is Prince Redmond the First,” said Judy.

  “His name is Spike,” said Stink. “He’s my Siamese fighting fis
h that I got at Fur & Fangs with my leftover Tooth Fairy money! You stole him.”

  “I didn’t nick him, Stink,” said Judy. “I took him by royal decree!” She swept her arm through the air. “I own all the fishes in the kingdom.”

  “I want my fish back.”

  “It’s for the greater good, Stink. So the whole queendom can enjoy him.” Judy pointed to spit bubbles on the water. “Look, Prince Redmond the First already made a bubble nest.”

  “Guess what,” said Stink. “Did you know fish communicate by farting?”

  “No way,” said Judy.

  “It’s true,” said Stink. “Spike is probably breaking wind right now.”

  “Royal fish don’t fart, Stink.”

  Judy watched more bubbles rise to the surface. Stink leaned over to listen. “Spike is saying, ‘Give me back to Stink!’”

  “Fine.” Judy scooped Prince Redmond the Farter into a yogurt container and handed him back to Stink. “A farting fish is not fit for a queen anyway.”

  “Hello, Spiky-Spike-Spike,” Stink cooed.

  Where-oh-where could she get a royal fish?

  Judy went down to the creek to look. She knew all about critters in creeks from her after-school Creek Freaks Club. She saw minnows. She saw water striders. She saw common netspinner caddis flies. She spotted dragonfly larva. She spotted beetle larva. She even scooped up a water-penny beetle.

  She tried to catch a minnow, but it slipped away too fast.

  If only she had a royal swan!

  She, Judy Moody, was the queen of no one. The boss of nothing. Not even a farting fish. Not even a minnow.

  Just then, she, Judy Moody, got a gobsmacking-great idea.

  Maybe, just maybe, she could get a swan to come to her! A trumpeter swan, just like Louis in The Trumpet of the Swan. Judy dug out her Backyard Becky magazines. Backyard Becky said swans ate birdseed. Judy dumped a bag of birdseed all around her moat. Backyard Becky said swans liked the color red. Judy put out a pile of red things — a red bucket, a red boot, a red ball. Backyard Becky said swans called to each other.

  “Hoo! Hoo! Ko-HOH! Hoo!” Judy sang a swan song. But no swan came.

  Backyard Becky even told how to weave a nest for a swan. Start with a Hula-Hoop. Using yarn, weave back and forth in a simple monkey chain knot. Judy ran to get her Hula-Hoop. She wove her finger-knitting chain back and forth to make a nest.

  From inside the house, she waited, watching the backyard.

  “A watched pot never boils,” said Mom.

  “It’s going to take time for a swan to find your nest,” said Dad.

  Judy gave it time. She gave it more time. She gave it time until it was time for Bedfordshire. She gave it time all the way until the next morning. As soon as she woke up, she ran to her window seat and peered into the backyard.

  Something was floating on her moat! Most excellent!

  Was it a swan? A trumpeter swan? Maybe it was a whooper swan, like in her Backyard Becky magazine. Or a whistling swan. Or a black-necked swan.

  She peered through her periscope. It had a short neck. It most definitely was not a swan.

  Was it an . . . ugly duckling? Judy hurried outside. She tiptoed across the back deck. She crawled across the grass until she got close enough to see.

  It was not a swan. It was not a bird. It was a duck.

  A rubber duck!

  And the rubber ducky was wearing a crown.

  Stink crawled out of the Toad Pee tent. “Stink! Check it out!” said Judy. “A royal rubber ducky!”

  “How did that get there?” asked Stink, wide-eyed.

  “No clue,” said Judy. “But it’s mine. Look, it even has a crown. Just like the queen’s rubber ducky.”

  “What do you mean?” Stink asked.

  “The Queen of England has a rubber ducky in the royal bathroom. No lie. And her rubber ducky has a crown, too.”

  Stink could not believe his ears. “No way!”

  “Way!” said Judy. “Jessica told me. A painter was painting the royal bathroom when he spotted it. He told all the newspapers in England. That’s called a leak, Stink.”

  “The royal bathroom sprang a leak!” said Stink. They cracked up.

  “By order of the British Empire, I hereby decree that I, Queen Judy, have dominion over all bath toys in the state of Virginia! Not just rubber ducks.”

  “Not all,” said Stink. “Some are mine.”

  “But you don’t play with tub toys anymore, right?” Judy asked. “Too babyish.”

  “R-right.”

  Judy held out her hand. “Then hand over your squirting submarine, Stink.”

  “Tubmarine? Never!”

  Now that Judy was a royal, she was dying to see a castle. There were nine castles in Virginia, but only one looked anything like Buckingham Palace — the queen’s house in England (where Judy should be living).

  Family field trip time!

  She, Judy Moody, was on her way to a castle. Not a sand castle. Not a bouncy castle. A castle-castle! For real and absolute positive.

  “This is it,” said Dad. “Wolff Castle.” Everybody piled out of the car. A high fence was built around the big mansion with a gate and a tower at each corner.

  “Does it have a dungeon?” Stink asked.

  “That’s your bedroom, Stink,” said Judy, cracking herself up.

  “It’s kind of small for a castle,” said Stink.

  “I’d like to live in a house this small,” Mom teased.

  “Do you think it’s for sale? Maybe we could live here,” said Judy.

  “In your dreams,” said Dad, laughing.

  “Where’s the moat?” asked Stink. “What about a drawbridge? Where’s the place where they chop off people’s heads?”

  The Moodys walked through rose gardens and up red-carpeted stairs. They entered a long hallway lined with marble statues and shining suits of armor. A grand staircase rose in the center. Crystal chandeliers sparkled so brightly that Cinderella’s stepsisters would have gasped in wonder.

  Judy spun around in awe. “Wow, I’ve never seen so much shiny stuff.”

  “Even the lights are made of diamonds,” said Stink.

  The castle had a secret staircase and a hidden tunnel. They toured room after room after room full of giant mirrors and stained-glass windows, claw-footed furniture and gold-painted ceilings. Even the doorknobs were fancy.

  “Who lived here?” asked Stink.

  “Some guy from England,” said Judy. “He built it for all his books and his art.” She leaned across a rope to peer into a bedroom with purple velvet drapes. The bed had twenty-some purple pillows. “This could be my room,” she told Stink.

  In every room, Stink asked, “Is this where they chopped off heads?”

  “Stink,” said Judy. “stop saying that or they’ll send you to the tower.”

  “What should we do first?” Judy asked. “There’s a falcon show, rowboats on the lake, and a royal tea party. I call tea party.”

  “Falcons!” said Stink.

  “Rowboats,” said Dad.

  Mom was frowning. “I’m afraid we didn’t get tickets ahead of time. The events are all sold out.”

  “There’s some sort of maze to find a corgi,” said Dad. But the maze turned out to be a boring-old worksheet. And the corgi was just a drawing. Lame-o!

  “We still haven’t seen the throne room,” said Mom.

  “Or the hall of kings and queens,” said Dad.

  Judy and Stink stepped into a long hall lined with paintings of kings and queens. Each one had a story.

  “King Henry the Second liked to read before he went to bed. Just like me!” said Stink. “And this guy, King Edward the First, had long legs, so they called him Long Shanks.”

  “The queen dubs 3,500 people a year to be knights. I hereby dub you Short Shanks,” said Judy.

  “Sir Short Shanks.” Stink read the tag next to the painting of a guy in a red robe and pointy slippers. “Says here Richard the Second owned the first ha
nkie. What’s a hankie?”

  “It’s a cloth you use to blow your nose. Like fancy toilet paper. Right, Mom?”

  Mom laughed. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Where’s Richard the Turd?” asked Stink.

  Judy cracked up. “You said turd.”

  “Third. I said Third.”

  “Here’s Henry the Eighth,” said Dad. “He had six different wives.”

  “Two of them got their heads chopped off,” said Stink.

  “Here’s poor Lady Jane Grey,” said Judy. “She only got to be queen for nine days.”

  “Did they chop off her head?” Stink asked.

  “No, Stink. Some queens got to keep their heads.”

  “Here’s Queen Elizabeth the First,” said Mom. “That’s who Virginia is named for.”

  “Why are her teeth black?” Judy asked.

  “They rotted from too many sweets,” said Mom.

  “Ew,” said Judy.

  “Queen Victoria always wore black,” said Mom. “It says she had a royal chauffeur, a royal rat catcher, and a royal bug destroyer.” Zap! Zap! Stink leaped through the hall, pretending to catch bugs.

  In the throne room, Stink tried out two different thrones.

  “Hey, Short Shanks, over here.” Judy pointed to the crest on one of the thrones. It had a shield in the middle with a knight’s head and feathers around it. In the center were two arms holding a rose and a big letter M at the bottom.

  “It looks just like our family crest,” said Judy.

  “The M is for Moody!” said Stink.

  “Or Mudeye,” said Judy.

  “Yeah. That old name for Moody.”

  “Stink, pretend I’m the queen, and you be the Royal Poet.”

  “Why can’t I be queen?” asked Stink.

  “Fine,” said Judy. “You be queen. I’ll be the Royal Poet.” She took a bow. “Your Majesty. I brought you a spot of tea. Oh fiddle-dee-dee. I spilled it on your knee. How terribly klutzy of me.”

  “Hey, you rhyme.”