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Chapter 1: Such a Bunchy Coat
My name is Dory, but most people call me Rascal. I have an enemy named Mrs. Gobble Gracker—you might have heard of her. She has been trying to catch me and bring me to her cave. But today I have a problem that’s even bigger than Mrs. Gobble Gracker. It’s this coat.
My mom says, “Oh! I just can’t stand how cute it is. It’s adorable on you.”
“It’s bunchy,” I say.
“It’s nice and cozy,” she says.
“It’s all puffed up and bunchy!” I cry.
“It’s a fabulous coat,” she says, kissing me.
“Someone put pillows in it. That’s why it’s all BUNCHY! I’m not wearing it!”
“Oh, stop,” says my mom. “You are wearing it, Rascal. No matter what. It’s freezing out.”
“PILLOWS! Bunchy pillows!”
“Stop saying pillows. You’re wearing it.”
“You always make me wear bunchy pillows!!”
“Come on, fluffball,” says my big brother, Luke. “We’re leaving. And stop saying bunchy!”
“Great coat, Kid!” says my dad.
“Hey, that used to be my coat,” says my big sister, Violet. “But I’m pretty sure it looked a lot better on me.”
When I get to school, I see my friends Rosabelle and George in the school yard. As soon as I see them, I take off my coat. “Nobody!—and I mean NOBODY!—can make ME wear this Ugly Garbage Bunchy Pillow Coat!!!!!!”
“Okay,” shrugs George. “Raise your hand if you want to play hamsters.”
But right in the middle of our game, it’s time to go inside.
“Dory, you’re going to remember our morning routine today, right?” asks my teacher.
“Sure. No problem,” I say.
Our Morning Routine:
1. Hang up your coat. “Good morning!”
2. Take your homework out of your backpack. “I forgot my backpack,” I say to a classmate. “Can I borrow yours?”
3. Copy the math problem into your notebook. “Why are you sniffing your notebook?” Rosabelle asks me. “To see if it’s poison,” I say.
4. Raise your hand and wait for your math to be checked. “I’m done. I’m done. I’m done,” I yell.
5. Read quietly on the rug until morning meeting.
6. Be a good listener during morning meeting. “Knock knock,” I whisper to Rosabelle.
When it’s time to line up for lunch and recess, everybody goes to the closet to get their coats.
“It’s hamster time!” says George.
I walk to the closet, too, but when I see my bunchy coat on the floor . . . my arm won’t bend.
So I line up without the coat. It’s not cold out. My teacher won’t even notice.
“I still hear talking,” says the teacher. “When I have a quiet line, we’ll go . . . wait . . . what’s this?” She picks up the bunchy pillow coat from the closet floor. “Oh my! What a beautiful coat! Whose is this?”
I’m about to say, “It’s mine,” but now . . . my mouth won’t open.
“Everybody look up here, please. Does anyone know whose coat this is?”
Rosabelle is about to say my name, but then she sees my face. She seals her lips shut. Tight.
“I know this coat must belong to somebody. It didn’t just magically appear in this classroom.”
George is looking at me, too. His eyes are bulging out of his face.
I look down at my sneakers.
“Dory . . . you’re not wearing a coat. Isn’t this yours?”
My head shakes itself.
I didn’t tell it to, but it does anyway! First my arm, then my mouth, now my head! Are my body parts under some kind of spell?
Now everyone is looking at me, not just Rosabelle and George.
“Are you sure?” asks my teacher.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Dory, are you saying your mom sent you without a coat?”
“Uh-huh.”
“On this freezing cold day?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hmmmmmm. Well, then you can borrow this one,” she says.
“Okay,” I say.
Then I realize—it must be the coat that has put a spell on me. An evil spell that made me lie! Now I really HAVE TO get rid of it!
So . . . after we eat lunch and everybody is putting their coat on, I leave the coat on the bench by mistake and run out to play.
In the school yard, I run around so fast that nobody notices I’m not wearing a coat.
“Why the heck is that kid not wearing a coat?”
“Excuse me! Put your coat on, please!”
But as soon as I walk into the classroom, the teacher says, “Dory, where’s that coat you borrowed?”
“Coat?” Uh-oh. If I don’t lie now, she’ll know I was lying before. “Ummm . . . I put it in my backpack. In the closet,” I lie.
“Wait. So it was yours?”
“Yeah . . . I . . . uh . . . just forgot how it looked cause . . . sometimes it looks . . . bunchy,” I lie.
“I knew it had to be yours! But when did you put it in the closet?” She looks super-duper confused.
“Uhhhh . . . when I was . . . was . . . going to the bathroom,” I lie.
“Hmmm, okay,” says my teacher. Then she turns her head away from me.
I walk back to my desk thinking, I did it! I got away from the evil coat. I imagine the coat blowing away, up to the clouds, gone forever.
But then Benji, who works in the cafeteria, comes into our classroom during writing time . . .
AND HE’S HOLDING THE COAT!!!!!
“Hey, kids! This coat was left in the cafeteria. Does this belong to anyone in here? Before I take it to the lost and found . . . I mean, what a good-looking coat!”
My teacher’s head turns very quickly to look at me. Now she doesn’t look super-duper confused anymore. She looks like she’s going crazy! “Dory . . . I thought you just said your coat was in your backpack. Isn’t this your coat?” asks my teacher.
I slip down low in my chair. “Nope,” I say.
“Didn’t you say . . . wait a minute . . . Go show me the coat in your backpack. And please ask your mom to label your coat!”
I walk slowly to the closet.
“Alrighty, kiddos, I hate to bring such a snazzy coat to the lost and found, but that’s where it will be,” says Benji.
I don’t know what to do when I get to the closet. I don’t even have my backpack! I stand in the closet. Deep in a corner. How do I break this evil spell? Do you get in trouble if you tell on yourself? I wonder.
“Rascal, come out. The teacher forgot all about you!” It’s George.
“How come?”
“Because Charlie threw up in the water fountain!”
“He did?”
“And he gets to go home!” George says.
“No fair!” I say. I hand Charlie his backpack since I’m in the closet anyway.
When I come out of the closet, I see that George was right.
She definitely forgot about me!
At the end of the day, my mom picks me up in the school yard. She says, “Rascal, where on earth is your coat? It’s freezing out!”
“Yes, I would really like to talk to you about that,” says my teacher who did not forget.
I slowly walk backward away from them. Then I watch from far away. My teacher keeps talking and talking and talking. Her hands move around a lot. My mom is surprised.
As I watch my mom’s face, I start crying because I know I’m in really big trouble.
Finally, my mom walks over to me. “Come on,” she says in an angry voice. “We are going to the lost and found.”
We don’t have to look deep in the bin, because the coat is right on top. She hands it to me and I put it on.
“How many lies did you tell today, Rascal?”
I try and count on my fingers. “One . . . two . . . three . . . seven, I think. Or maybe eight?” A hundred tears run down my face.
“Oh boy,” she says. “You are in really big trouble.”
Then she looks up at the sky and whispers, “Oh, why, why, why, why?” She takes a long breath. When she’s done breathing, I ask her, “Do I have to wear this coat again?”
“No, you don’t,” she says.
I wipe my tears and smile. I love my mom so much. I hug her leg so tight that she can’t shake me off. My body is stuck to her leg. I think it must be the spell.
“Oh, this child,” says my mom.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Dory Fantasmagory: Head in the Clouds"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Abby Hanlon.
Excerpted by permission of Penguin Young Readers Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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