Never Swipe a Bully's Bear (4 page)

“Cheer up, Roscoe,” said Emma on the bus that afternoon.

“I'll bet Hamilton is just playing hide-and-seek,” said Gus. “A really, really long game of hide-and-seek.”

Some kids in the middle of the bus were throwing a football back and forth.

“No throwing things!” shouted the bus driver.

“Or maybe he went on a trip,” said Emma.

“Yeah,” said Gus. “Maybe he's flying around the world. He could be anywhere by now!”

I sighed.

The ball flew past us.

It was big and pink. And fluffy.

It was for sure not a football.

“Touchdown!” yelled one of the kids.

“No football on the bus!” yelled the driver.

“That's not a football,” Emma pointed out. “It's fuzzy. And it's wearing a dress.”

I looked.

I swallowed.

I jumped right out of my seat.

Even though that's a really bad idea on a bus.

“THAT'S NOT A FOOTBALL! THAT'S MY PIG!!!” I screamed.

The throwing stopped.

The kids stopped.

The BUS stopped.

“Excuse me?” said the driver.

“HAMILTON!!!” I ran over as fast as I could.

A little boy was holding him. A kindergartner.

“Here,” he said. “You can have him. Truth is, he kind of smells, you know?”

“He's wearing a dress!” I cried.

Poor Hamilton. He looked so embarrassed.

“We thought he was a girl,” the boy said.

I hugged that pig and I kissed that pig and I didn't care who saw me.

Then I took off his dress.

I saw Max at the back of the bus. He was shaking his head. And laughing with his friends.

His friends who were way too cool to have stuffed animals.

Then Max looked right at me.

And he gave me a wink that only I could see.

 

My dad was working in his attic office when I got home.

I ran straight upstairs and told him the amazing wonderful story of Hamilton's return.

“This little girl found him on the sidewalk!” I said.

“The sidewalk?” Dad said.

“I think maybe he fell out of my backpack when I was doing somersaults on the way home,” I said. “Like this.”

I did a quickie somersault example.

I kind of knocked into Dad's trash can.

“Oops,” I said. “So the girl said she took Hamilton home. And she named him Darlene.”

Dad shook his head. “Poor Hamilton.”

“And her mom said Hamilton smelled bad. So she put him in the washing machine. Can you believe it?”

“That must have been scary for Hamilton,” Dad said.

“So then the girl put a dress on him. Only her mom said he was still too yucky. Which he is not.”

I took a whiff of Hamilton.

He still smelled sort of piggy-flavored.

But soapy too.

I hoped the soapy smell would wear off.

“So then the girl gave Hamilton to her brother to use as a football,” I said.

I took a deep breath.

“Period,” I said. “End of story. No more discussion.”

But it wasn't, not really.

I took Hamilton to my room so he could see all his friends.

Everyone wanted to hear his exciting story.

I grabbed Geraldo from my laundry basket so he could welcome his buddy back.

I started to close the closet door. But
something made me stop.

And it wasn't a ghost.

I looked down at the laundry basket. Two sad black eyes stared up at me.

Hamilton and I were together again, but Bobo was still alone.

And I knew that wasn't right.

 

I told Dad all about how I had bear-napped poor Bobo.

It felt good to get that old bear off my chest.

Then Dad and I drove over to Wyatt's house.

On the way, Dad and me talked about jumping to conclusions.

Jumping to conclusions
isn't about the fun kind of jumping. Like jumping rope. Or jumping jacks.

Jumping to conclusions is when you decide something before you know all the facts.

Like for instance when you think someone is a pig-napper.

Only they aren't.

We also talked about how you are
innocent until somebody proves you guilty.

Personally, I can see how that idea might come in handy.

Wyatt sure was happy to see Bobo.

I told him I was really sorry I thought he was a pig-napper.

And really sorry I was a bear-napper.

Before I left, I remembered something important I had to ask. “Wyatt?” I said. “What's a proboscis?”

“It's just another name for
nose
,” he said. He grinned. “I learned it from my big brother. They're good for some things.”

Wyatt gave Bobo a hug. Then he sniffed him.

He squinted his eyes. “You didn't give him a bath, did you?” he asked.

“No!” I said. “I might be a bear-napper. But I would never go that far!”

I sighed. “Somebody did that to Hamilton. They even put a dress on him.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Some people have no shame.”

So now you know why I'm in time-out.

I broke a rule. Number 214 on my list.

Do not bear-nap.

I also learned that sometimes when people say they're Not Guilty, they might
really
be Not Guilty.

Even if their name is Wyatt.

And I learned what a proboscis is.

One more thing. I learned that it's okay to have a stuffed animal. Even if you're twenty, or sixty-five, or one hundred and one.

It's nice to have someone around who always understands you.

That's why I have Hamilton with me here in time-out. He knows I'm really sorry about all the trouble.

Here come Mom and Dad.

They know I'm sorry too.

I think I'll ask them if they still have any stuffed animals.

If they don't, I just might loan them one of mine.

Just as long as it's not Hamilton.

He's had enough adventures lately.

1. I am afraid of ladybugs.

2. I like to put ketchup on my cereal.

3. I have a pair of lucky Spider-Man underpants.

4. I always throw up on merry-go-rounds.

5. When I grow up I am going to marry Ms. Diz if she is interested.

6. My paper airplanes
always
crash.

7. I have three night-lights.

8. I can wiggle my ears.

9. I enjoy flossing.

10. I am going to keep Hamilton until I am 101 years old.