an idea,” said Judy. “How about you
don’t
leave tomorrow? How ’bout you live with us?”
Aunt Opal gave Judy a hug. “I can’t. But I’m
so
going to miss you,” she told Judy. “You know what, though?
Next
summer, I’m thinking of wrapping the Eiffel Tower in ten thousand scarves. Wanna help me?”
“You mean it? For real? That would be on-top-of- SPAGHETTI rare! Not to mention a gazillion thrill —”
Suddenly, Judy’s eyes grew wide. In a sideview mirror of the Vespa, she could see a shaggy, shadowy figure step out of the woods and into a patch of light from a street lamp. Was it? Could it be? Maybe it was just a tall guy with a sweater down to his knees?
Or was it… ?
“Aunt Opal!” Judy whispered urgently. “In the mirror! Look! LOOK!”
Aunt Opal peered at the mirror. “I don’t see anything. Just the leaves of those bushes are shaking, like somebody just cut through there or something.”
“Exactly,” Judy half whispered.
The next morning, Judy heard a
toot toot
and looked out the upstairs window. Dad was strapping an enormous suitcase to the top of a taxi.
Judy raced down the stairs as fast as she could. Everybody was hugging and laughing and crying, and Stink was hanging on to Aunt Opal’s leg for dear life.
“I’m never letting go,” said Stink. Opal climbed into the cab. Stink ran over to the Bigfoot statue.
“Paris. Next summer. Be there!” she said to Judy. Opal leaned out the window, waving madly, as the cab moved down the street.
“Love you! Bye!” Aunt Opal called.
“Love you back! See you next summer!” Judy sighed and walked over to the Bigfoot statue. Stink was taping a sign onto a card table: TOUCH BIGFOOT! 50 CENTS!
“Fifty cents to touch a piece of shaggy old carpet? Are you nuts?”
“Uh-humm.” A throat cleared. “Do you have change for a dollar?”
Judy turned. It was Jessica Finch, on her half-pink bike. The other half was bent, and stickers and glitter covered the scratches. She held out a dollar.
Stink grabbed it. “Sure!”
“Thanks for fixing my bike,” said Jessica.
“Yeah, sure, no problem,” said Judy.
Stink handed over the change. Jessica slowly stuck out a finger — and touched Bigfoot. “Ewww!” She laughed.
Judy watched as other kids from the neighborhood came down the street. “Fifty cents to touch Bigfoot!” Judy yelled, waving them over.
“Hey! This was MY idea,” said Stink.
“Aunt Opal says art belongs to everyone. Besides, I have to earn money for the Eiffel Tower! Fifty cents a touch!” she called, even louder this time. “For a DOLLAR , Bigfoot will shake your hand!
“For a HUNDRED DOLLARS , we’ll move him to your yard!” said Dad.
“And for a THOUSAND ,” said Judy, “I’ll show you where the REAL Bigfoot is!”
don’t
leave tomorrow? How ’bout you live with us?”
Aunt Opal gave Judy a hug. “I can’t. But I’m
so
going to miss you,” she told Judy. “You know what, though?
Next
summer, I’m thinking of wrapping the Eiffel Tower in ten thousand scarves. Wanna help me?”
“You mean it? For real? That would be on-top-of- SPAGHETTI rare! Not to mention a gazillion thrill —”
Suddenly, Judy’s eyes grew wide. In a sideview mirror of the Vespa, she could see a shaggy, shadowy figure step out of the woods and into a patch of light from a street lamp. Was it? Could it be? Maybe it was just a tall guy with a sweater down to his knees?
Or was it… ?
“Aunt Opal!” Judy whispered urgently. “In the mirror! Look! LOOK!”
Aunt Opal peered at the mirror. “I don’t see anything. Just the leaves of those bushes are shaking, like somebody just cut through there or something.”
“Exactly,” Judy half whispered.
The next morning, Judy heard a
toot toot
and looked out the upstairs window. Dad was strapping an enormous suitcase to the top of a taxi.
Judy raced down the stairs as fast as she could. Everybody was hugging and laughing and crying, and Stink was hanging on to Aunt Opal’s leg for dear life.
“I’m never letting go,” said Stink. Opal climbed into the cab. Stink ran over to the Bigfoot statue.
“Paris. Next summer. Be there!” she said to Judy. Opal leaned out the window, waving madly, as the cab moved down the street.
“Love you! Bye!” Aunt Opal called.
“Love you back! See you next summer!” Judy sighed and walked over to the Bigfoot statue. Stink was taping a sign onto a card table: TOUCH BIGFOOT! 50 CENTS!
“Fifty cents to touch a piece of shaggy old carpet? Are you nuts?”
“Uh-humm.” A throat cleared. “Do you have change for a dollar?”
Judy turned. It was Jessica Finch, on her half-pink bike. The other half was bent, and stickers and glitter covered the scratches. She held out a dollar.
Stink grabbed it. “Sure!”
“Thanks for fixing my bike,” said Jessica.
“Yeah, sure, no problem,” said Judy.
Stink handed over the change. Jessica slowly stuck out a finger — and touched Bigfoot. “Ewww!” She laughed.
Judy watched as other kids from the neighborhood came down the street. “Fifty cents to touch Bigfoot!” Judy yelled, waving them over.
“Hey! This was MY idea,” said Stink.
“Aunt Opal says art belongs to everyone. Besides, I have to earn money for the Eiffel Tower! Fifty cents a touch!” she called, even louder this time. “For a DOLLAR , Bigfoot will shake your hand!
“For a HUNDRED DOLLARS , we’ll move him to your yard!” said Dad.
“And for a THOUSAND ,” said Judy, “I’ll show you where the REAL Bigfoot is!”
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