Calling All Birdbrains (3 page)

Was I worried? Nervous? Totally in a panic?

No way.

I knew I could talk my way out of this jam—with my lucky bird there. Lucky Lippy never lets me down.

Mr. Skruloose leaned over me. We were nearly forehead to forehead. I couldn't believe it. The dude had big muscles in his
forehead
!

“Let's hear it, soldier!” he boomed.

I cleared my throat. “Well, sir,” I started, “I'm president of the Wildlife Club. Early morning is the
best time to wake up and see wildlife stuff—don't you agree?”

He stared at me, trying to decide if I was lying.

“I love to get up before the sun,” I said. “If it means I can see exciting wildlife—like this wild African parrot.”

Skruloose eyed the parrot.

I stuck out my hand. “Perhaps you'd like to make a donation to the Wildlife Club, sir?” I said. “If you have a spare ten-dollar bill, I know everyone in our club will appreciate it.”

I waited for Skruloose to pull out his wallet. He
had
to believe my story. The lucky parrot always brings me luck when I'm in a jam.

“A donation?” Skruloose cried. “Bridges, why should I give you money when you have a big wad of dollar bills in your shirt pocket?”

“Well, I can explain that, sir,” I said. “We members of the club need money to protect endangered animals, sir. Like this poor parrot. He—”

“There IS no Wildlife Club!” Skruloose thundered. “You were up all night playing cards—weren't you?”

“No way!” I cried. “Well…maybe…”

Skruloose grabbed my shoulder and lifted me about two feet off the ground. “I'm taking you to Headmaster Upchuck's office,” he said. “You can tell him about your all-night card game.”

“Huh?”

That's all I could say. I was too dazed to talk.

How could this happen to me, the Great Bernie B.?

I had failed to talk my way out of a jam. That
never
happens—not when I have Lippy with me.

Lippy called to Skruloose.

“Think that's funny, Bridges?” Skruloose sneered. “Think I don't know that's
you
imitating a parrot?”

“But, sir—” I started.

“When you're finished with the Headmaster,” Skruloose boomed, “come see
me
. We can talk about what's funny and what isn't.”

Lippy squawked.

Mr. Skruloose's face turned bright red. I think that meant he was kinda angry.

I shook my head as he carried me to the Headmaster's office.

What just happened here? Did Lucky Lippy just get me into even
worse
trouble?

Headmaster Upchuck lectured me for two hours. He said if he caught me playing cards again, he'd give me an even
longer
lecture.

I said, “Don't worry, sir. You won't catch me.”

“Bernie, before you go, here's a bit of advice,” Upchuck said. “Whatever it is you
like
to do…don't do it.”

“Good advice, sir,” I said. I gave him a sharp, two-fingered salute.

I gritted my teeth. Was Lippy going to get me into even
more
trouble?

The Upchuck laughed. “Very funny parrot, Bernie,” he said. Then his smile faded. “Get rid of him. Pets aren't allowed on campus.”

“Pet, sir?” I said. “This bird isn't a pet. He's a wild bird. He migrated here from the west coast of Africa.”

Upchuck stared at Lippy. “He flew ten thousand miles and just happened to land on your shoulder?”

“Go figure, sir.”

The Headmaster frowned. “Bernie, let me give you one more piece of advice.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Upchuck said.

“Good advice, sir,” I said again.

I held on to Lippy, turned, and ran out of the Headmaster's office. The morning sun was shining above the trees now, and the air was warm. A beautiful day—but I didn't care.

“Lippy, what's up with you?” I asked. “You didn't help me at all.”

The bird leaned down and nipped my earlobe.

That really hurts.”

I heard the thunder of hoofbeats. The ground shook. It sounded like a cattle stampede.

I looked up—and saw Jennifer Ecch rumbling toward me. Jennifer is big and strong and hulky and tough. She once arm-wrestled a
tree
and WON!

And did I mention that she's totally in love with me?

Do you know how yucky it is to be in fourth grade and have a girl call you “Honey Face” and “Sugar Toes”?

I knew what The Ecch wanted.

She wanted me to be her partner at the annual I. B. Rotten Outdoor Game Competition. The games are a really big deal. They were started by the founder of our school, I. B. Rotten.

The whole school competes.

Everyone has to have a partner. They take us in school buses to Lake Choking Gas, where the games are held.

I watched Jennifer bounce over the grass. I knew I had no choice. I had to hide.

No way
I wanted to be her partner.

I dove behind a clump of leafy bushes.
Then I dropped to the ground and lay flat in a pile of dead leaves.

Frantically, I began scooping the large, brown leaves over me. In seconds, I was totally buried beneath them.

I held Lippy to my chest and rubbed him for good luck.

“Don't let her find me…. Don't let her find me.”