Junie B. Jones Is Not a Crook (3 page)

And I skipped the rest of the way to Room Nine.

I kept my pen in my pocket the whole rest of the day.

I didn’t want people to see it. Or else they might tattletale to Mrs. And she would make me take it to the Lost and Found.

I behaved myself very good. ’Cause I didn’t want to ’tract ’tention, that’s why.

I kept my hand in my pocket so my pen would not fall out.

Also, I kept thinking about my mittens.
’Cause I still missed those furry guys.

I put my head down on my table.

“Maybe my grampa Miller might buy me some
more
furry mittens,” I whispered. “’Cause that would be a perfect solution, I think.”

I raised up my head.

“Hey, yeah! Then I would have wonderful new mittens,
plus
a wonderful new pen. And so what more can a girl ask for? That’s what I’d like to know!”

I sat up in my chair and tapped on Lucille.

“Guess what, Lucille? Maybe my grampa Frank Miller might buy me some new mittens. And then all my troubles will be over.”

Lucille said
whoop-de-do
for me.

“I know it is
whoop-de-do
,” I said real
thrilled. “And so, thank you for your support.”

After school, me and my bestest friend named Grace rode the bus together.

I runned home from my corner like a speedy bullet.

My grampa Frank Miller was babysitting my brother named Ollie.

“GRAMPA FRANK MILLER! GRAMPA FRANK MILLER! WE GOTTA GO TO THE MITTEN STORE! WE GOTTA GO TO THE MITTEN STORE!” I hollered real loud.

Grampa Frank Miller was in the living room rocking Ollie.

He looked funny at me.

“Go
where?”
he asked.

“TO THE MITTEN STORE! TO THE MITTEN STORE! WE GOTTA GO TO THE MITTEN STORE!”

I pulled on his hand.

“GET UP! GET UP! LET’S GET A WIGGLE ON!”

Grampa Miller looked confused at me.

That’s how come I had to sit down. And I told him what happened at school.

“Someone stoled my mittens,” I said. “They stoled them while I was being Brownie. And I didn’t even know there were crooks at that place.”

Grampa Frank Miller shook his head very sad.

“I guess you can find crooks almost anywhere, honey,” he said.

“I know it,” I told him. “That’s how come I’m never going to see those furry guys again. And so you and me have to go to the mitten store.”

I felt in his back pocket. Then I danced around real thrilled.

“Hurray!” I shouted. “Hurray for your big fat wallet! ’Cause you got cash in there. Right, Grampa? Right? Right?”

Grampa Frank Miller laughed.

“Yes, I do. I’ve got cash all right,” he said. “But I’m afraid we won’t be able to buy you more mittens. The mittens I bought you were the only furry ones they had left. I bought the very last pair.”

Just then, all the happy went right out of me. ’Cause I didn’t actually count on
this terrible development.

“Yeah, only we
have
to, Grampa. We
have
to buy more furry mittens. Or else what will I even do?”

Grampa Miller ruffled my hair.

“Did you look in the Lost and Found at school?” he asked.

I did a sad breath. “Yeah, only that dumb thing doesn’t work that good. ’Cause people don’t always turn stuff in.”

I patted my new pen in my pocket.

“Trust me on this,” I said real soft.

“Well, your mittens could still turn up,” he said. “Folks will surprise you sometimes.”

Then he told me a story about his wallet.

“A few years ago I lost my wallet at the mall. I was sure I would never ever see it again,” he said.

I bobbed my head up and down. “I
know it. That’s because of
Finders keepers, losers weepers
,” I said. “
Finders keepers, losers weepers
is the rule. Right, Grampa?”

Grampa Miller smiled.

“Well, it might be the rule for
some
people,” he said. “But luckily, it’s not the rule for
everyone
. Because the very next day—when I went out to get my mail—there it was! My wallet was sitting right smack in the middle of my mailbox! And not one single penny was missing!”

His eyes looked happy and sparkly.

“Can you imagine that, little girl?” he asked. “Someone had the chance to take everything in my wallet. But instead, they drove all the way to my house. And they put it in my mailbox.”

Just then, he reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Look what I would have lost if they hadn’t returned it,” he said.

He took a picture out of his wallet. And handed it to me.

“It’s you and a baby,” I said.

“But that’s not just
any
baby,” he said. “That’s
you
, Junie B.! That’s a picture of the very first time I ever held you.”

He took the picture back and stared and stared at it.

“Nicest thing a stranger ever did for me…bringing this picture back,” he whispered real soft.

Then he leaned over again.

And he kissed me on my head.

After I talked to my grampa, I went to my room.

I closed my door real secret.

Then I took my wonderful pen out of my pocket. And I did a big sigh.

’Cause I had confusion in me, that’s why.

“I wish I never even heard that wallet story,” I said. “’Cause
Finders keepers, losers weepers
isn’t the rule, apparently. And so now maybe I might be a crook.”

I looked at my wonderful pen.

“Yeah, only I don’t even
feel
like a crook. I feel like a lucky duck. But I still have to take this thing to the Lost and Found, probably. And then it will go to waste just like the teddy backpack.”

All of a sudden, I heard Mother and Daddy come home from work.

I quick hided my pen under my mattress. ’Cause those two would not be understanding of this situation.

They came in my room and kissed me hello.

I told them what happened to my mittens.

Then I begged and begged for them to take me to the store. But Mother said
there’s no more left
. And Daddy said
there’s no more left
, too. And so there was no more left, apparently.

That’s how come I got depressed all over again. And I couldn’t even sleep good that night.

I kept on wondering about who was the mitten crook. And what did he look like. ’Cause I’ve seen crooks on TV before. And they are biggish and meanish with tattoos on theirselves.

Just then, I sat up in my bed.

’Cause a good idea popped into my head, that’s why!

“Hey, a tattoo is easy to spot, I bet!” I said. “And so maybe I can find that crook on the playground tomorrow!”

After that, I went right straight to sleep. ’Cause I would need my strength for crook-looking.

The next day at recess, I didn’t play
horses with Lucille and that Grace.

Instead, I runned all around the playground looking for the mitten crook.

Only too bad for me. ’Cause most of the children had their jackets on. And so I couldn’t even see any crooks with tattoos.

Pretty soon, the bell rang.

That is when my eyes got tears in them. ’Cause I would never see my mittens again. Not ever, ever, never.

I started walking to Room Nine.

My nose was sniffling and drippity.

I wiped it on my attractive jacket sleeve.

Then—all of a sudden—a pink fluffy girl skipped past me.

She had on a pink fluffy dress. With pink fluffy socks and shoes. And a pink fluffy jacket made of pink fluffy fur.

And guess what else?

SHE HAD BLACK FURRY MITTENS IN HER PINK FLUFFY POCKETS!

My eyes got big and wide!

“HEY! MY MITTENS! MY MITTENS! MY MITTENS!” I screamed real loud.

Then I put my head down. And I zoomed at her like a speeding bull.

Mrs. saw me running. She grabbed me by my attractive winter jacket.

I jumped up and down and pointed.

“THAT PINK FLUFFY GIRL STOLED MY MITTENS! SHE IS THE CROOK! ONLY HER JACKET IS COVERING UP HER TATTOO! AND SO THAT’S WHAT HAD ME STUMPED!”

Mrs. called to the pink fluffy girl.

She skipped over to where we were.

I kept on jumping.

“YOU STOLED THEM! YOU STOLED MY MITTENS!” I said.

“No, I didn’t,” she said back. “I didn’t steal anything. I
found
these mittens. They
were right in the grass. And so I thought nobody wanted them.”

“I did!” I yelled. “I wanted them! My grampa Miller bought them for no good
reason. And I have been worrying about them all day. And all night. And that is called heartache, madam!”

Mrs. said to hush my voice.

She took my mittens away from the pink fluffy girl. And gave them back to me.

Then she bended down. And she talked to the pink fluffy girl real serious.

“Even if you thought no one wanted these mittens, it was wrong of you to take them,” she told her.

The pink fluffy girl pointed at me.

“But she didn’t even take good care of them,” she said.

I stamped my foot.

“Yes, I did! I did too take care of them! I left them with my attractive winter jacket. ’Cause I didn’t even know there was crooks at this place!”

Mrs. said
hush
to me again.

“You should have taken them to the Lost and Found,” she told the pink fluffy girl.

“Yeah! ’Cause then I would have found them when I looked there!” I said. “And so what do you think that box is there for? My health?”

The pink fluffy girl started to cry.

“But I really, really love them,” she said.

Mrs. smoothed her hair.

“I’m afraid that’s not the issue,” she said.

“Yeah, we’re afraid that’s not the issue,” I said. “’Cause
Finders keepers
isn’t the rule, apparently. And so from now on, if you find my stuff, you have to take it to the Lost and Found. Plus also you can put it in my grampa’s mailbox.”

Mrs. looked at me a real long time.

She said I am getting on her nerves.