Weerdest Day Ever!, page 1
PRAISE FOR INK ME
FROM SEVEN (THE SERIES)
“A brilliant story.”
—CanLit for Little Canadians blog
“An exciting story [with] a lot of hearty laughs.”
—CM Magazine
“Clever in its execution and wise in its thematic treatment.” —Resource Links
PRAISE FOR THE WOLF AND ME
FROM THE SEVEN SEQUELS
“Playfully and smartly written…An all-around rollicking read.” —Resource Links
“Bunny’s indomitable spirit makes him a likable, one-of-a-kind narrator…Readers will respond to this improbable, deeply sympathetic hero.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“We are compelled to read on and on…If that isn’t the mark of a good book, I don’t know what is.”
—CM Magazine
WEERDEST
DAY EVER!
RICHARD SCRIMGER
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
Copyright © 2016 Richard Scrimger
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Scrimger, Richard, 1957–, author
Weerdest day ever / Richard Scrimger.
(The seven prequels)
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-4598-1155-3 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1156-0 (pdf).— ISBN 978-1-4598-1157-7 (epub)
I. Title.
PS8587.C745W44 2016 jC813'.54 C2016-900484-8
C2016-900485-6
First published in the United States, 2016
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016933651
Summary: In this middle-grade novel, Bunny ends up caught in a reenactment of the War of 1812 while searching for a stolen cell phone.
Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by iStock.com
Author photo by Mark Raynes Roberts
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
www.orcabook.com
19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1
To my nephews Nat and Cory
CONTENTS
THIS STORY IS TRUE
SPENCERS BEST THING
I DIDNT KNOW WHO THEY WERE YET
MR TECUMSETH SAT AT A PICNIC TABLE BY HIMSELF
THERE WAS ANOTHER LITTLE SILENCE AROUND US
IN THE TELESCOPE I CULD SEE
YOU THINK I CULD FIND A GUY WITH 1 ARM
BETH WAS LEANING OVER THE FENCE
THERE WERE TREES ALL AROUND US
TYLER WAS BETTER AT RIDING THAN ME
A BUNCH OF THINGS HAPPENED THEN
I KEPT RUNNING
HE WAS IN FRONT OF THE LOG CABIN
A GUY TOOK PICTURES OF THE CHAIN SAW SIZE PISTOLS
NOTHING IMPORTANT HAPPENED UNTIL LATE AT NITE
WHERE DOES TIME GO?
EVER WOKEN UP WITH A BAT IN YOUR ROOM?
IT DIDNT REELY
HE WAS IN THE PARKING LOT
I SAID GOODBYE TO IRENE AND RAN OVER
THE NEXT BIT OF THE DAY
YOUVE SEEN THE MOVYS
THIS WASNT SPENCERS PHONE
CLOD WAS AMAZING
I DIDNT DIE
HOW CULD I FORGET ABOUT THE 1 ARM MAN?
DISCLAIMER
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CREEKSIDE SCHOOL REPORT
SUBJECT, GRADE: ENGLISH 10
TEACHER, ROOM: MR. WING, HALL D
ASSIGNMENT: WRITE A STORY ABOUT TIME WITH A FAMILY MEMBER.
EXAMPLES: FISHING WITH DAD, MY COUSIN’S BIRTHDAY PARTY, A VISIT WITH GRANDMA, BABYSITTING MY SISTER
TIPS: SET UP YOUR STORY. MAKE SURE THERE IS A PROBLEM. USE COMMAS AND QUOTATION MARKS IN YOUR DIALOGUE. REMEMBER—GOOD WRITING COMES FROM THE MIND AND THE HEART!
YOUR NAME: Bunny O’Toole
YOUR STORY TITLE: WEERDEST DAY EVER!
THIS STORY IS TRUE—
most of it. Some parts I will have to make up because I dont remember every word people said way back then. But mostly its true. You wont think so but it is. Like the war. Yah there reely was a war. Or the…
BEGIN YOUR STORY ON THE NEXT PAGE
Oops. Sorry.
THIS STORY IS TRUE—
most of it. Some parts I will have to make up because I dont remember every word people said way back then. But mostly its true. You wont think so but it is. Like the war. Yah there reely was a war. Or the cow. Or the hollow tree. Or what happened to the 1 arm man. That was funny all rite.
It all happened a while ago. Im in Grade 10 now and this was back at the end of Grade 6 so—that long ago. Grampa took me and Spencer camping. No one else. No Mom and Dad or the other cousins. Just Grampa and me and my brother. Thats what this story is about. We stayed over night but it was Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning so it was really only 1 day. I culd call it My Day With Grampa or My Day With Spencer. Only I didn’t see much of them and some reely weerd things happened. I mean really weerd. So Im calling it Weerdest Day Ever! I think thats the rite title.
OK I will start now.
* * *
Grampa picked us up from our house in Toronto and drove us to Queen something Park. That was the name of the park. I dont know where it was. It took us all morning to get there. We drove over a long bridge and went left and the sun hit me where I was sitting in the back of the Jeep.
Did I say it was the week end? It was. Almost summer so it was warm enuff for short pants. I wore one of Dad’s old t shirts. It said BREAD on it. Thats all—BREAD. Dad said I looked groovy. Then he laffed. Spencer wore baggy shorts with lots of pockets and zips. He hated them because they made his legs look skinny.
“But your legs are skinny,” I said.
Spencer is a year older than me but Im bigger.
“Theyre even skinnier in these stupid shorts,” he said.
By now we were in the park and driving slow. I was eating ice cream. There was a place out side the park gates and we stopped there for lunch. Spencer had finished his ice cream. He sat back and frowned at all the trees. He doesnt like camping. I do. Camping means sleeping in a tent and cooking on a fire. Fun you know? Spencer doesnt think so. Hes smarter than me and he likes inside things. Reading comic books and gaming. And his new phone. He loves that.
I better say rite now—Spencer is not the only one who is smarter than me. This is in case you cant tell already. Just about every body is smarter than me. My class—my family—every body. I saw a video with a chicken who culd always tell witch cup had the little ball under it. No matter how they mixed up the 3 cups the chicken wuld always peck at the one with the ball. I culdn’t do it and I was watching the video. I figure that chicken is smarter than me. Not much smarter because I can tie my skates and count—but a bit smarter.
This is in case you want better spelling. Im doing my best. I have trouble with lots of words—2 and to and real and reel. And a hole bunch more. I go with the way they sound even tho I know some words are weerd. Like is it frend or freind? Let me check. Oh.
I will forget that.
Anyway. We drove on a bumpy road along the outside of the park. After a few minutes we found an open place to put up our tents. 2 tents. I was going to be with Spencer and Grampa was by himself. That was a good thing. Have you ever slept near an old person? They fart a lot and go whhhhhh and unnnnnnng. You know? And they moan and smell like mint and teeth.
When the tents were up Grampa and I went to get wood and then he took us for a walk and told us the rules. Grampa was big on rules. He was going to let me and Spencer be on our own but he wanted us to stay close and check in. That was the rule for this trip.
“Do you understand Bernard?” he asked.
Grampa was the only one who called me Bernard. Every body else called me Bunny.
“Will I trust you Bernard?”
“I dont know,” I said.
I mean you cant tell what some one else will do.
Grampa frowned.
“Let me ask again. Will I trust you Bernard? I want to trust you.”
I looked at Spencer for help but he was busy checking his pockets.
“You shuld do what you want Grampa,” I said. “Unless it hurts somebody.”
Thats my rule. Its a pretty good rule.
Grampa looked at me a long time. I looked back. I don’t know what Spencer did. There was shouting in the distance and a sound like banging on a pot.
“OK I will trust you both,” said Grampa. “I want you to have fun here. Pay attention. This is not a normal weekend at the park. There will be surprises.”
More shouting and a boom sound. Fire works maybe. Cool.
“Like a birthday party? That kind of surprise?”
“Youll find out Bernard.”
Spencer grabbed my arm. “Theres a problem,” he said.
SPENCERS BEST THING
in the hole world was his phone. He liked it more than his gl
It was a smart phone he told me.
I agreed. I didnt know if his phone culd pick out a ball under a cup like the chicken in the video. But it sounded pretty smart.
Mom told Spencer to be careful of his phone. She made him get a safe plastic case for it. She told him to leave it home this weekend. Spencer took it anyway. He liked it 2 much to leave it home.
“Dont tell Mom,” he said to me in his room.
“OK,” I said.
“I mean it. This phone is my life,” he said. He zipped it into his pocket.
“OK.”
And now the phone was gone.
That was the problem. So I went xploring by myself. The woods were thick and the path was bumpy. There were more bangs. I smelled fire works and headed for them. Fire works are fun.
I slowed down when I came up to the guys with guns.
Thats what I said. Guns. There were a bunch of guys—like 6 or 8 of them—in a small open area ahead of me. And they had guns. Not pistols like cops or gangs use. These were rifles—only longer and fancy looking.
That was the smell. Not fire works. Guns.
I dropped strait down so the gun guys wuldnt see me. Then I crawled inside a bush.
One of them was yelling at the others. He didnt have a gun. “Fire lock!” he shouted. Then something about a cart ridge. Then he yelled, “Prime!”
Whatever that ment.
He was the boss. He was in charge. He shouted while the other guys played with the guns. They clicked some thing on the sides of the guns and then pored stuff into the tops—the gun barrels. “Rammer!” he shouted. I think that was it. The guys stuck poles into the guns. Reely. Inside them.
Then the boss said, “Sholder.” You know—like the part of your body. Sholder. The guys all lifted the guns to there sholders.
I didnt get it. There was nothing here. They were pointing the guns at nothing. They looked like they were in a gang or an army but I didnt know who they were fiting. There was no body there xept squirrels maybe.
No wait—there was a woman with a video camera! She was filming the guys with the guns. Did they see her? Did they know? They didnt look at her. They kept pointing guns at the maybe squirrels.
She wore jeans and sandals. She looked normal.
“Fire!” shouted the boss guy. Did I say he had a sord? He did. They were all dressed in blue coats and white pants and tall hats but the boss had a sord insted of a gun.
As soon as he said Fire there was a bunch of bangs as loud as thunder. Reely. Or louder. Like if you dropped a mountain made out of glass. That loud. My ears hurt. The smoke was thick as a blanket. You culdnt hear or see any thing for a while.
Weerd.
Maybe I shuld of been scared but I wasnt. Or not much. Yah it was loud and all—but the guys werent shooting at me. They werent shooting at any body. I didnt get it. And why were they dressed in funny clothes? I didnt get that ether. And what about the video woman? Was she from the CBC or some place? Was this going to be on the news tonite?
I didn’t get any of this.
Of course I was used to not getting stuff. Math. Or games. Spencer tried to teach me chess. He showed me how the horse moved—up and then over—and I just laffed.
“Reely?” I asked and he said, “Reely.” I laffed some more.
When I dont understand something I just go “OK then” inside. Thats what I did now. Guns and sords and cameras? OK then. The smoke was every where. I stayed in my bush until Beth and Tyler came.
I DIDNT KNOW WHO THEY WERE YET.
They stood next to where I was hiding and stared down the path at the backs of the blue and white guys with the guns.
“Thats an American patrol,” said Beth. She was a kid about my age with long hair in a brade down her back. “Did you hear them talk? They sound American. You cant always tell. Some times Americans sound like us. But not these guys.”
Maybe my age. Maybe a little older. Her skin was smooth and brown like wet toffee.
Tyler nodded and didnt say anything. His skin was darker than hers. I didnt like him.
“Lets follow,” said Beth. “We can sneak up on them. OK? Itll be good practice for tomorrow.”
Tyler nodded and bent down low. I didnt know his name yet ether. Or that he was Beths brother. She bent 2. Now there faces were rite next to mine. Both of them wore make up.
“Hi,” I said from inside my bush.
Beth made a noise like eeech!
Tyler didnt say anything.
I crawled out of the bush and stood up. We looked at each other. Tyler had no shirt and no hair xept for a strip down the top of his head with a fether in it. I saw now that Beth had a fether in her hair 2. They both wore soft lether pants with a frill—no frinj thats the word. Frinj. Beths shirt had a frinj 2. Their make up was dark brown stripes across their cheeks like this == Like equals in math you know? 2+2==4.
This was something else weerd—something else I did not understand. These guys with fethers and make up were like the guys and the guns and the video camera. OK then.
I told them my name.
“Im Bunny,” I said. “Who are you?”
She ansered. Thats when I found out their names.
“Im Beth and this is my brother Tyler,” she said. “Were both in grade 6. He has a different mom but hes still my brother.”
We nodded at each other.
I liked Tyler better now that I knew he was Beths brother. I said hi and that I was in grade 6. Beth said hi.
“Dont mind Tyler,” she told me. “He listens good but he doesnt say much.”
Tyler nodded. I nodded 2.
“Were with the British,” said Beth.
“Huh?”
“From Canada you know? In the battle tomorrow. Were fiting the Americans.”
This was a big deal. I didnt understand but I culdnt just keep going and think OK then.
“Woe!” I said. And then I said, “What?”
“Didnt you know?”
“I didnt know we were at war with America,” I said.
War with America! It xplaned the camera any way. People wuld want to know how the war was going. And it xplaned the guns. You cant fite a war without guns.
“Not today. Tomorrow,” said Beth. “Tomorrow is the war.”
I was still getting my mind around it. War. I shuld tell Grampa and Spencer about this. Theyd want to get out of here early if there was going to be a war.
Tyler and Beth didnt seem very worryed.
“Lets follow the American patrol,” she said. “You can come with us Bunny. You want to? Come on. They went this way. Can you see them Tyler?”
He took a tube out of his pocket and put it up to his face.
“Thats a—what is that again?”
“Telescope,” said Beth. “Its Tylers. Dad got it for him last year. Cool eh?”
“Yah.”
Tyler put the telescope away and waved his arm down the path.
“The Americans must be a long way away,” said Beth. “Lets go.”
No more sneaking. They ran down the path. I ran after them.
“War?” I said. “Reely? War?”
Tyler looked over at me and nodded firmly.
War. I didnt understand but it seemed to be happening.
Wow.
It was still a big deal.
I looked up as we ran. I culd see a bit of sky thru the tops of the trees. If America was fiting us tomorrow there mite be planes now. Checking things out. I didnt see any. Maybe the Canadian Air Force was keeping the sky safe.
Maybe.
There was no body on the path but us. Not even squirrels. There was noise up ahead getting louder. A different kind of banging—like pots and pans not fire works.
“The Americans must be in the town,” said Beth.
The path got wider. We slowed down.
“Isnt this fun Bunny?” Beth asked. “Our dad fites a lot of weekends in the summer. Thats why were here.”
“Your dad?”
“Yah he loves fiting. He says war is the noblest thing you can do. He loves being a hero. And he usually is. Eh Tyler?”
