Judy Moody Declares Independence (7 page)

“The Wig Guy said everybody dressed up and painted their faces so nobody would know who they were,” said Stink.

“Way cool,” said Frank.

Stink got a bunch of funny hats from his room. “I call the tricorn hat!” said Rocky.

“I have face paints,” said Judy.

Frank painted a not-cracked Liberty Bell on her cheek.

“Did you know they rang the Liberty Bell when they first read the Declaration of Independence?” Judy told Frank.

Stink got a mustache. Rocky got a beard. And Frank got a Frankenstein scar.

Judy filled the tub with hot water. “Okay, everybody think about stuff that’s not fair. Ready? Now, on the count of three, throw your tea into the tub. One, two . . . WAIT!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Frank.

“It has to be dark. The real Tea Party was after dark.” She turned out the big light, and the night-light flickered on.

“We can pretend it’s the moon,” said Rocky. “At midnight.”

“THREE!” called Frank. He took the lid off the pot and dumped the tea into the tub. Rocky and Judy ripped open boxes of tea and tea-bag wrappers.

“Hey, let me!” said Stink. “You guys are hogging.”

“Stink, you be on the lookout. Blink the light if you hear Dad coming. One if by stairs, two if by hallway.”

Stink stood by the door. “You forgot to hoot and holler and yell not-fair stuff,” said Stink.

Everybody started yelling and throwing tea bags into the bathtub.

“No more homework!” said Rocky.

“More allowance!” said Judy.

“More chocolate milk!” said Stink.

“No baby-sitting! No garbage patrol!” said Frank.

Stink took off his shoes and socks, hopped right into the tub, and started acting like a teapot. He made one arm into a handle and one into a spout. “I’m a little teapot, short and stout,” he sang. “When I get all steamed up, hear me shout, ‘Give me chocolate milk or give me death!’” He sprayed water out of his mouth.

“Ooh, you spit on me,” said Rocky.

“You’re getting us all wet!” cried Frank.

Judy thought she heard footsteps on the stairs. “The British are coming! The British are coming!” she warned.

A voice, a deep voice, a
Dad
voice, said, “Hey, what’s all the —”

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” Judy cried.

“What in the world is going on up here?” asked Dad, opening the bathroom door. “Sounds like an elephant in the bathtub.” He turned on the lights.

Water dripped from the walls like a rain forest. The floor was flooded with giant brown puddles. Stink drip-drip-dripped like a short and stout wet mop.

The tub water was a brown sea of murky, ucky, yucky tea. Tea bags bobbed up and down on the tiny bathtub waves. The Boston Mud Party.

“Judy?” asked Dad. “Stink?”

Stink pointed to Judy. “It was her idea!”

“We were having a Boston Tea Party,” said Judy.

“Judy,” said Dad. “Just a few days ago, you were showing off this
clean
bathroom.”

“But Dad! It’s a protest! For more freedoms.”

“A mess this size sure isn’t going to get you more allowance . . . or your own bathroom.”

“Pretend this is Boston Harbor. We were just making history come alive. Like homework.”

“Sorry. This harbor’s closed. Rocky, Frank, it’s time for you boys to go home. Judy, no more friends over for one week. And you’d better get this mess cleaned up before Mom gets home. You too, Stink.”

“But I don’t even want independence!” said Stink. “Just more chocolate milk.”

“The Patriots swept up after they threw tea in the harbor,” Dad said.

No friends for one week! This was just like what the British did to the Americans — one of those Bad Laws they called the In-tol-er-able Acts. Dad was closing down the tub just like the Big Meanies closed down the harbor after the real Tea Party!

Judy felt like stamping her feet (the Stamp Act). She felt like throwing sugar packets (the Sugar Act). She felt like declaring independence
on the wall
(in permanent marker)!

But just like all the Bad Laws in the world did not stop the Patriots, the Clean-the-Bathroom-Again Law and No-Friends-for-One-Week Law would not stop her. And they would not, could not, put her in a nark. They were just bumps in the road on the Judy Moody March to Freedom.

She, Judy Moody, would live by a Not-Bad Law, the Law of the Sugar Packet:
If at
f
irst you don’t succeed, try, try again.

When Judy got out of bed on Monday morning, she did not stamp one foot. She did not throw one sugar packet. Instead, she quietly-and-to-herself declared independence from brushing her teeth and taking a shower. She did not want to mess up the bathroom again. EVER.

Her makeup book report from when she was in Boston was due today. A makeup book report was NOT going to put her in a bad mood. Even if she had waited till the last minute. Judy decided right then and there to make this her best-ever book report. That’s what a responsible person would do.

She dressed up in her pilgrim costume — the one Grandma Lou had made for Halloween.
Ye olde pilgrimme costoom
had an apron and made Judy look just like a girl from the American Revolution. Judy wore regular-not-loony pants underneath the skirt for bloomers. And she made thirteen curls in her hair — one for each of the thirteen colonies.

“Who are you? Heidi?” Stink asked at breakfast.

“None of your beeswax,” said Judy.

“Are you a nurse?”

“N-O!” said Judy.

“Hey, I know. You’re Priscilla Somebody! Like a pilgrim?”

“No, I’m Revolutionary. The Girl Paul Revere. For my book report today.”

“Oh. So you’re that Sybil La-Dee-Da?”

It sure was hard to declare independence from bad moods when Stink was around.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Judy called on her way out the door.

“Hey, wait for me!” Stink yelled.

“Sorry! I’m riding my faster-than-lightning bike to the bus stop!” Judy yelled back. And she was off.

Right before the end of the school day, it was time for Judy’s book report. She asked Frank Pearl to help her. They stood up in front of the class.

“Mr. Todd? I have a different kind of book report. It’s acted out. Like a play.”

“Cool!” said Rocky.

“The book I read is called
Sybil: The Female Paul Revere,
” Judy told her class. “It’s about the Girl Paul Revere. And this,” she said, pointing to Frank, “is the Boy Paul Revere. Frank — I mean Paul — is helping me, Sybil Ludington.”

Judy started with a poem: “‘Listen, my children, and you shall hear / Of a girl who rode way farther than Paul Revere.’”

“No fair! It doesn’t say that here!” said Frank.

“I just added it,” said Judy. “Keep reading.”

“Did Sybil What’s-Her-Face really eat hot dogs?” asked Jessica Finch.

“She ate mustard,” said Judy. “Ketchup wasn’t invented yet.”

Mr. Todd chuckled. “Actually, the word is
muster,
not
mustard
. When Sybil rode her horse to warn everybody, she called them to muster, which means to get together.”

“The other parts were all true,” said Judy. “I give this book five
really
s. As in really, really, really, really, really good. It was so good, I stayed inside for recess to read it. It was so good, I read it to my cat and my Venus flytrap!”

“Thank you, Judy,” said Mr. Todd. “Sounds like Sybil Ludington really inspired you.”

“Everybody should know about the Girl Paul Revere. Most people never heard of her, because for some barmy reason they forgot to put girls in history books. I wouldn’t even know about her if you hadn’t told me.”

“Maybe some others will want to read the book now,” said Mr. Todd.

“Sybil Ludington should be in our social studies book for everybody to read about. Girls should get to be in history books, too, you know. Especially girls who did independent stuff, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” said Mr. Todd.

“Girls rule!” all the girls shouted.

“Huzzah!” said Judy.