Judy Moody Predicts the Future Read online

  Who’s Who

  The Mood Ring

  Eeny Meany Green Zucchini

  Toady Calling

  Madame M for Moody

  The Sleeping Speller

  Preposterous Hippopotamus

  Antarctica

  The V.I.Q.

  Operation True Love

  Non-Fiction Prediction

  Purple Mountain Majesty

  10 Things You May Not Know About Megan McDonald

  10 Things You May Not Know About Peter H. Reynolds

  Judy Moody ate one, two, three bowls of cereal. No prize. She poured four, five, six bowls of cereal. Nothing. Seven. Out fell the Mystery Prize. She ripped open the paper wrapper.

  A ring! A silver ring with an oogley center. A mood ring! And a little piece of cardboard.

  WHAT MOOD ARE YOU IN? it asked.

  Judy slid the ring onto her finger. She pressed her thumb to the oogley center. She squeezed her eyes tight. One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand. She hoped the ring was purple. Purple was the best. Purple was Joyful, On Top of the World.

  At last, she dared to look. Oh no! She couldn’t believe her eyes. The ring was black. She knew what black meant, even without the directions. Black said Grouchy, Impossible. Black was for a bad, mad mood!

  Maybe I counted wrong, thought Judy. She closed her eyes and pressed the ring again. She thought only good thoughts this time. Happy thoughts.

  She thought about the time she and Rocky and Frank put a fake hand in the toilet to play a trick on Stink. She thought about the time she got a picture of her elbow in the newspaper. She thought about the time Class 3T collected enough bottles to plant trees in the rain forest. She thought of purple things. Socks and rocks and Popsicles.

  Judy Moody opened her eyes.

  She flunked! The ring was still black.

  Could the mood ring be wrong? Judy did not think rings could lie. Especially rings with directions.

  Judy froze her thumb on an ice cube and pressed the ring’s center. Black.

  She ran her thumb under hot water and pressed it again. Black, black, blacker than black. Not one teeny bit purple.

  I guess I’m in a bad mood and don’t even know it, thought Judy. What could I be mad about?

  Judy Moody went looking for a bad mood.

  She found her dad outside, planting fall flower bulbs.

  “Dad,” she said, “will you take me to Fur & Fangs?”

  Judy hated when her dad was too busy to take her to the pet store. She could already feel the bad mood coming on.

  “Sure,” said Dad. “Just let me rinse my hands.”

  “Really?” asked Judy.

  “Really.”

  “But you look really busy. And I have homework.”

  “It’s okay,” said Dad. “I’m about finished. I’ll just wash my hands and we’ll go.”

  “But what about my homework?”

  “Do it after dinner,” said Dad.

  “Never mind,” said Judy.

  “Huh?” asked her dad.

  Judy Moody went looking for an even better bad mood.

  It really bugged her when her mom told her to brush her hair. So Judy took out her ponytails on purpose. Her hair stuck out in T. rex spikes. Her bangs fell over her eyes.

  She found her mom reading in the pink chair.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Her mom smiled at her. “Hi, honey.”

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

  “Like what?”

  “Like, ‘Go brush your hair. Get your hair out of your eyes. Your hair looks like a T. rex.’ Anything.”

  “It’s from the ponytails, honey. It’ll be fine after you wash it tonight.”

  “But what if somebody came to our house and knocked on the door right this very second?” Judy asked.

  “Like who? Rocky?” asked Mom.

  “No, like the president of the United States,” Judy said.

  “Tell the president you’ll be right down. Then run upstairs and brush your hair.”

  It was no use. Judy Moody had to find Stink. If anybody could put her in a bad mood, Stink could. The baddest.

  Upstairs, Judy barged right into Stink’s room without knocking.

  “Stink! Where’s all my doctor stuff?”

  “What doctor stuff? I don’t have any.”

  “But you always have my doctor stuff.”

  “You told me to stop taking everything.”

  “Do you have to listen to everything I say?” asked Judy.

  Judy glared at her ring. “This mood ring lies.” She yanked it off and threw it into the trash.

  Stink fished the ring out of the trash. “A mood ring? Cool!” He tried on the ring. It turned black. Bat-wing black.

  “See?” said Judy. “Worthless!”

  Stink pressed his thumb to the oogley center. The ring turned green! Green as a turtle’s neck. Green as a toad’s belly.

  Judy could not believe her eyes. “Let me see that,” she said. It was green all right. “Stink, you can give me back my mood ring now.”

  “You threw it in the trash,” Stink told her, waving his mood-ring hand in front of her. “It’s mine now.”

  “Yuck! Green looks like pond scum.”

  “Does not!”

  “Green means jealous. Green means green with envy. Green means you wish you were me.”

  “Why would I wish that? You don’t have a mood ring,” said Stink.

  “C’mon, Stinker. I went through seven bowls of cereal for that ring. I gave up going to Fur & Fangs for that ring. I froze and burned myself for that ring.”

  “It’s still mine,” said Stink.

  “ROAR!” said Judy.

  The next day, Judy was in a mood. The burnt-toast kind of bad mood. The kind that turns your mood ring b-l-a-c-k.

  If only she could convince Stink that she had magic powers. A person with magic powers should own a mood ring. What good was a mood ring in the hands of someone with un-magic powers?

  Where was that Stink-a-Roo anyway? Probably down in the living room, reading the encyclopedia.

  Judy ran downstairs. Stink was lying on the floor with encyclopedias all around him, wiggling his loose tooth.

  “I knew it!” said Judy. “I just predicted you’d be reading the encyclopedia. I have special powers, superduper magic powers, see-the-future powers!”

  “I’m always reading the encyclopedia,” said Stink. “Which letter am I on?”

  “M,” said Judy.

  “WRONG!” said Stink. “S!”

  “I still predicted it,” said Judy. What else could she predict?

  Judy went to the kitchen and brought back a Tasty Tuna Treat for Mouse.

  She hid it in her pocket.

  “I predict that Mouse will come into the room,” she said. She waved the Tasty Tuna Treat behind her back, where Stink couldn’t see it.

  Mouse came slinking into the room. “Mouse!” said Judy. “What a surprise! Except . . . I predicted it! Ha!”

  “Mouse always comes into the room we’re in,” said Stink.

  “Well, what if I said I could read our mother’s mind?”

  “I’d rather read the encyclopedia,” said Stink.

  “Stink, you have to come with me!” said Judy. “So I can prove my amazing powers of prediction!” Stink followed Judy into Mom’s office.

  “Hi, Mom,” said Judy. “Guess what?”

  “What is it?” said Mom, looking up over her glasses.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Judy. She squeezed her eyes shut, wrinkled her nose, and pressed her fingertips to her temples.

  “You’re thinking . . . you wish I’d clean under my bed for onc
e instead of bugging you. You’re thinking . . . you wish Stink would get his homework out of the way for the weekend.”

  “Amazing! That’s exactly what I’m thinking!” said Mom.

  “See?” said Judy.

  “Were you really thinking that, Mom?” asked Stink.

  “Now I predict that Dad will walk into the house,” said Judy.

  “You heard the garage door,” said Stink.

  “True. Okay, it’s Dad’s night to cook. I predict spaghetti.”

  “All he knows how to make is either spaghetti or ziti.”

  Stink ran into the kitchen. Judy ran after him.

  “Dad, Dad!” Stink said. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Spaghetti,” said Dad.

  “Lucky guess,” Stink said to Judy.

  “ESP,” Judy said.

  “Okay,” said Stink. “I’m thinking of a number.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” said Judy.

  “C’mon! What’s the number?”

  Judy grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around her head like a turban.

  She closed her eyes. She pressed her fingertips to her temples. She made funny noises. “Ali baba, abra-ca-dab-ra. Eeny meany green zucchini.”

  “Does the dishtowel help with ESP?” asked Stink.

  “Quiet! I’m concentrating.”

  “Hurry up. What am I thinking?”

  “You’re thinking I don’t really have Extra Special Powers.”

  “Right,” said Stink.

  “You’re thinking ESP shouldn’t take this long,” Judy said.

  “Right! What about my number?”

  Stink’s favorite number was always his age. “Seven,” said Judy.

  “Right again!” said Stink. “Now I’m thinking of a color.”

  “Pond-scum green?” said Judy.

  “Wrong! Eggplant,” said Stink.

  “EGGPLANT! Eggplant is not a color! Eggplant is not even an egg. Eggplant is a vegetable. A squeegy-weegy vegetable.”

  “I was still thinking it,” said Stink. “You have about as much magic power as an eggplant. A squeegy-weegy eggplant.”

  “Face it, Stink. I have special powers. Even without my mood ring.”

  “So you don’t need it back,” said Stink, flashing the ring under Judy’s nose.

  “A person with special powers, such as mine, should have a mood ring. It goes with predicting the future, like a crystal ball. Has the ring turned purple on you?”

  “Nope.”

  “See? It only turns purple on Extra-Special-Powers people. It turns pond-scum green on plain old encyclopedia readers.”

  Stink stared at the ring.

  “In fact, I predict that your finger will turn green and fall off if you don’t give me back my ring,” said Judy.

  “I’m never taking it off,” said Stink.

  “We’ll see,” said Judy.

  On Saturday, Stink was reading the encyclopedia. Again! He wiggled his loose tooth some more. With his mood-ring finger, of course. The mood ring glowed. It glittered. It gleamed. Stink scratched his head with his mood-ring finger about one hundred times a minute.

  “Stink, do you have lice or something?” Judy asked.

  “No,” said Stink. “I have a mood ring!” He laughed himself silly.

  Mr. Lice Head was giving Judy a bad case of the Moody blues. She could not stay in the same room and watch her mood-ring-that-wasn’t-hers one more minute. She needed to think.

  Judy looked out the back door. It was raining outside. She pulled on her rubber boots, dashed across the backyard, and crawled inside the Toad Pee Club Clubhouse (aka the old blue tent).

  Plip-plop, plip-plop went the rain. It was lonely in the clubhouse all by herself. She wished the other members of the Toad Pee Club were here. Well, at least Rocky and Frank Pearl, not Stink.

  She even missed Toady. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Toady go after all. Even if it was to help save the world.

  Ra-reek! Ra-reek! went the toads outside.

  Boing! Just like that, Judy had an idea. A perfect predicts-the-future idea.

  She, Judy Moody, predicted Stink would give the mood ring back in no time. All she needed was a yogurt container, a little luck, and a toad.

  Judy held out her umbrella and bent over, searching for toads. She looked in a pile of logs. She looked inside a loop of garden hose. She looked under the old bathtub behind the shed.

  Ra-reek! Ra-reek!

  She could hear about a thousand toads, but couldn’t see a single one. There had to be a Toady-looking toad around here somewhere. It’s not like she was looking for a rare northeast beach tiger beetle or anything.

  Judy was just about to give up and go back inside when she heard something. Something close. Something right there on the back porch. Something like Ra-reek! Ra-reek!

  It was Mouse! Mouse sounded like a toad!

  The cat was drinking from her water dish.

  Wait! Mouse did not sound like a toad. Mouse’s water dish sounded like a toad. A real live toad was swimming in Mouse’s water dish!

  Judy took a deep breath. Slowly, slowly, she held out the yogurt container.

  “Ha!” Judy trapped the toad under the yogurt container. She wondered if it looked like Toady. She lifted up the container to study the toad.

  RA-REEK! Boing!

  The toad hopped across the porch, down the steps, and into the wet grass.

  “Here, Toady, Toady. Nice toad. Pretty boy. Come to Judy.”

  Ra-reek! Ra-reek! “Gotcha!” This time Judy caught him with her hands.

  He was the same size as Toady. He had speckles and warts and bumps like Toady. He even had a white stripe down his back. Just like Toady.

  “Same-same!” said Judy.

  All of a sudden, Judy felt something warm and wet on her hand.

  “Toady Two!” she cried.

  Sneaky Judy hid Toady Two under a bucket in the tent. Then she went to find Stink.

  “Hey, Stink,” yelled Judy, dripping in the doorway. “Let’s go hunt for stuff in the backyard.” Stink did not even look up from reading the S encyclopedia.

  “S is for Saturday,” said Judy. “S is for Stand Up! S is for I’m going to Scream if you don’t come outside.”

  Stink flipped a page.

  “Are you coming, or are you just going to sit there?” she asked.

  “Sit there,” said Stink.

  Judy tapped her feet. She tap-tap-tapped her fingers.

  “S is for Shh!” said Stink. “I’m reading about a lizard with a tail that turns blue. A skink.”

  “Skinks stink,” said Judy. Stink ignored her.

  She, Judy Moody, liked those blue-tailed skinks as much as the next person. But she was not in an S-is-for-Sitting-Still mood. She had to get Stink outside. Fast!

  “I’ve seen a stinky skink before.”

  “Where?” asked Stink.

  “The backyard. C’mon, Stinker. We can look for skinks!” said Judy.

  “You think?” asked Stink. He closed the encyclopedia.

  “Rain is perfect skink-hunting weather!” said Judy.

  Stink looked for skinks in the cracks on the back porch. He looked in the flowerpot. He looked under Mouse’s dish.

  “What makes you think we can find a skink anyway?” asked Stink.

  “ESP. Extra-special Skink Powers. Keep looking.”

  “I’m looking, I’m looking.”

  “Whoever finds a skink first gets an ice cream at Screamin’ Mimi’s. Wait. What’s that?”

  Judy closed her eyes. “Humm, baba, humm. Nee nee nee nee nee. Ohmmmm. I feel a presence.”

  “A skink?”

  “I hear . . . a sound.”

  “Is it a skink or something?” asked Stink.

  “Or something,” said Judy. She closed her eyes again. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Yes! I’m getting a color. Greenish brown.”

  “Everything in the backyard is greenish brown.”

  “I see bumps. It�
�s bumpy,” said Judy.

  “Skinks are not bumpy,” said Stink.

  “Definitely bumpy,” said Judy.

  “Is it bumpy like dead leaves? Skinks love dead leaves,” said Stink.

  “Bumpy like warts,” said Judy. “Now I see something to do with water.”

  Stink looked around. “It’s raining. Water is everywhere.”

  “I said something to do with water,” said Judy. Bucket. Bucket. She tried hard to send Stink an ESP, but he wasn’t getting the message.

  “Wait! The presence is saying something,” said Judy. “Yes. It’s speaking to me. Ra-reek! Ra-reek!”

  “A toad?” asked Stink. “Is the presence a toad?”

  “Yes,” said Judy. “No. Wait. Yes!”

  “A toad? For real? Toady?” asked Stink. “Is it Toady calling?”

  “YES!” said Judy. “It’s Toady. Toady is calling to me. RARE!”

  “Where? Where is he?” asked Stink.

  “Wait. No. Sorry. I had it. But I’m losing it now.”

  “NO!” cried Stink. “Close your eyes again. Concentrate. Feel the presence or something.”

  “Do it with me,” said Judy. Stink and Judy held hands. They closed their eyes. “Say eeny meany green zucchini,” said Judy.

  “Eeny greeny mean zucchini.”

  “Yes! I see it! I see a bucket. And I see something blue. A blue roof? No. It’s a tent. Yes. A blue tent!”

  Stink raced inside the tent and went straight for the bucket. He lifted it up.

  Ra-reek!

  “Toady Two!” said Judy.

  “Toady Two?”

  “I mean Toady, t-o-o. As in also. As in not just some crummy old bucket.”

  “Toady! You’re back!” cried Stink. He hugged the toad in his hands. He grinned a loose-tooth grin. “I missed you. You came back. For real. Just like Judy said.”

  “Like I predicted,” said Judy. “Just call me Madame Moody. Madame M for short.”

  “Is it really him?” said Stink.

  “Who else?”

  “Toady, I didn’t let you go. Judy did. Honest. Don’t ever leave again.”

  Stink held Toady in both hands. “I don’t even care if he makes me a member of the Toad Pee Club again,” said Stink.

  “Ick,” said Judy.

  Stink kissed Toady on his beady-eyed, bumpy little head.