Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great - Softcover

Blume, Judy

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0142408794 ISBN 13: 9780142408797

Verlag: Penguin Young Readers Group, 2007

Inhaltsangabe

Celebrate 45 years of Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great!

Part of the classic Fudge series from Judy Blume, bestselling author of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing.

Who is Sheila Tubman? Even Sheila isn’t sure. Sometimesshe feels like confident Sheila the Great, and other timesshe’s secret Sheila, who’s afraid of spiders, swimming,and, most of all, dogs. When her family decides to leavethe city for a summer in the country, Sheila will haveto suffer everything from long-eared dogs to swimminglessons to creepy spiders. That’s enough to drive a city girlnuts! If she survives at all, Sheila may be forced to admitthat she’s no supergirl.

“As a kid, Judy Blume was my favorite author, and Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing was my favorite book.”—Jeff Kinney, author of the bestselling Wimpy Kid series

Love Fudge, Peter, and Sheila? Read all these books featuring your favorite characters:
Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing
Superfudge
Fudge-a-Mania
Double Fudge 

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

JUDY BLUME spent her childhood in Elizabeth, New Jersey, making up stories inside her head. She spent her adult years in many places, doing the same thing, only now she writes her stories down on paper. Her numerous books have won many awards, including the National Book Foundation’s Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters.

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing is the first in a five-book series about Peter, Fudge, and Sheila. Judy lives with her husband in Key West and New York City.You can visit her at judyblume.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great

By Judy Blume

Puffin Books

Copyright © 2007 Judy Blume
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780142408797

Chapter One

I'm glad there's only one more week of school beforesummer vacation. Today was so hot! My clothes stuckto me and my brain felt all tired out. I didn't even finishmy math in school. So now I have to do it forhomework.

I walked into the lobby of my apartment buildingthinking how good a big, cold drink would taste. Ipushed the Up elevator button and waited. When theelevator got to the lobby Henry opened the gate and Istepped in. Just as he was about to take me upstairsPeter Hatcher and his dumb old dog came tearingdown the hall.

"Wait up, Henry!" Peter called. "Here I come."

"Please don't wait, Henry," I said. "The elevator'stoo small for that dog."

But Henry opened the gate and waited. "This elevatorcan hold ten people or the equivalent," Henrysaid. "And I figure that dog is the equivalent of a personand a half. So with me and you and Peter and thatdog we've still only got four and a half people."

Sometimes I wish Henry didn't spend so muchtime thinking.

"Hi, Henry," Peter said. "Thanks for waiting."

"Any time, Peter," Henry told him.

"Excuse me, please," I said, stepping out of the elevator.I held my nose. "I can't ride up with that dog.He stinks!"

My heart was beating so loud I was sure Henryand Peter could hear it. And I know Turtle, the dog,was laughing at me. He stuck out his tongue andlicked the corners of his mouth. I'll bet he could tasteme already! I walked down the hall with my head heldhigh, saying, "P.U."

Henry called, "Ten flights up is a long walk,Sheila."

"I don't mind," I called back.

Henry was right. Ten flights up is a long walk. By thetime I got to my floor I was huffing and puffing sohard I had to sit down on the landing and rest. Littledrips of sweat ran from my face down to my neck.Still, I think it's pretty smart of me to pretend that Ihate Turtle because he smells. I always hold my nosewhen I see Peter coming with him. That way Peterwill never know the truth!

After a few minutes I wiped my face with the backof my hand and walked down the hall to our apartment.Mrs. Reese is the only person on our floor witha dog. And I don't worry too much about her. Becauseher dog is so small she carries him around in herarms. She calls him Baby and knits him little sweatersto wear in the winter.

I pushed open our apartment door and wentstraight into the kitchen to get something to drink.

"Is that you, Sheila?" my mother called.

"Yes," I answered.

"Did you have fun at Laurie's?"

"Yes," I said, gulping down a whole can of applejuice.

"Is it still hot out?" Mom asked.

"Yes."

"Did you remember to bring home a quart ofmilk?"

Oh oh! I knew I forgot something.

"Sheila ... did you bring home the milk?" Momcalled again.

"No ... I forgot."

I went into the living room then. My mother wasreading a book. The CD player was on and my sisterLibby was twirling around in her pink toe slippers.She is thirteen and thinks she's a great ballerina. Icould hold my nose for the way Libby dances, but I'dget into big trouble if I did.

My mother said, "You better go back down and getthe milk, Sheila."

I flopped into the big chair that tilts back and said,"I can't, Mom. I'm dead. I just walked up the stairs."

"Don't tell me the elevator is out of order!" Momsaid.

"No."

"Then why did you walk up ten flights of stairs?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just felt like it."

"Sheila, that was a very foolish thing to do in thisheat," Mom told me. "Now go into your room and liedown for a while before supper."

"Do I have to?" I asked.

"Yes, you do. Libby will go to the store and get themilk."

Libby did three flying leaps before she said, "Can'tyou see I'm in the middle of a routine?"

"Your routine can wait," Mom said. "I need themilk for supper and Daddy will be home soon."

"But, Mother! I'm in my leotard," Libby said.

Libby used to say Mom, like me. But since shestarted junior high it's Mother this and Mother that.She is very strange.

Mom told Libby, "You can put a skirt over yourleotard and nobody will notice." Then she looked atme. "Sheila, what are you waiting for? I said go andlie down."

"Okay ... okay," I said. "I'm going." I took off myshoes and arranged them on the floor so that the toespointed toward my bedroom.

I line them up every day before my father comeshome. It's part of a private game Daddy and I play. Iam always hiding somewhere and Daddy has to findme. His only clue is my shoes. I invented this gamewhen I was seven and we've been playing it eversince.

Libby said when she was ten she acted a lot moregrown-up than me. I think she missed out on somegood fun. Anyway, Daddy would be disappointed if Istopped playing our game.

Libby and I share a bedroom. I stretched out onmy bed while Libby turned the closet upside downlooking for a skirt.

"You are a pain!" she said to me. "You know that,Sheila? You are a real live pain!"

I didn't answer her.

"Why'd you walk up the stairs ... huh?"

I still didn't answer.

"Did you see a dog in the elevator? I'll bet that's it.I'll bet Mrs. Reese was in the elevator with Baby."

"Wrong!" I said.

Libby finally found a skirt and pulled it on overher leotard. "Then I'll bet it was Peter Hatcher andTurtle."

"Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't," I said.

"Chicken chicken chicken," Libby called as she left.

I put my hands over my ears to show I wasn't evenlistening.

Libby got back with the milk right before Daddy gothome for supper. I jumped off my bed and crawledunder it when I heard him say, "Hello, I'm home."

I knew Daddy found my shoes when he called, "Ahha! I'm coming to find a Sheila!"

It really isn't very hard for him to find me. Therearen't that many places where I can hide. We onlyhave five rooms. Still, Daddy always pretends that hedoesn't have any idea where I might be.

When he came into my room he started openingmy dresser drawers. He said, "Hmmm, no Sheila inhere. No Sheila in there either."

I laughed. Daddy knows I wouldn't fit into a dresserdrawer. And as soon as I laughed he lifted my bedspreadand looked under the bed.

"Ah ha! I found a Sheila!"

I crawled out and kissed Daddy hello. Libbywalked in then. "I don't think you should encourageher to be such a baby," she told Daddy.

"I am not a baby!" I shouted.

"Then why don't you stop playing baby games?" Libby asked.

"All right, Libby," Daddy said. "That's enough!"

"You see," Libby said. "You're always on her side!"

"I'm not on anyone's side," Daddy said. "Let's forgetabout this and go have our supper. I've got somenews for you."

I was sure Daddy's news would be about our summerplans. We've been waiting and waiting to find outwhat we're going to do this summer. I wanted to takea trip to Disneyland but Mom and Daddy said That'sout of the question.

When we sat down at the table and started to eatDaddy said, "We got the house!"

"Oh, Buzz," Mom said. "That's wonderful!"

I wish people would stop calling my father Buzzand start calling him Bertram. That's his real name. Ifeel so silly having a father named Buzz.

"What house?" Libby asked.

"In Tarrytown," Daddy told her. "It belongs to aprofessor at Marymount who's spending the summerin England."

My father is a professor at Marymount Collegetoo. He teaches English. Libby says when she is oldenough to go to college she is not going to Marymountbecause there aren't...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Young Readers Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2007
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0142408794
• ISBN 13: 9780142408797
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 176
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: GPSR Kontakt; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland