The Lost Treasure of Tuckernuck Read Online Free PDF Page B

mean, look there.” Bud jabbed at the paper with the other half of the stick. “Prithee? Is she serious?”
    Laurie didn’t answer. She didn’t have any clue what the stupid poem meant. She hadn’t had any ideas the first ten times he’d asked, and she hadn’t had any lightbulbs go off in the meantime.
    â€œSo we know she’s crazy now. Totally bonkers. The chicken was one thing, but this? Cats? This is totally insane. There probably isn’t even a stupid treasure, it’s probably just a weird hoax.” Bud kicked the post again, and a piece of gray paint flecked off onto his shoe. One of the reasons given for closing Tuckernuck Hall was that there was no money for upkeep, and the school was sliding into disrepair. Bud seemed to be doing everything he could to help it along its way.
    â€œSo did she write this piece of trash? Or is it Dickinson too?”
    â€œIt’s not Dickinson,” Laurie muttered.
    â€œAre you sure?” Bud kicked the post again. “It could be. Maybe Tutweiler really liked her. Maybe she was crazy obsessed.”
    Laurie shook her head. “It doesn’t sound like Dickinson, okay? I don’t know who wrote it, Bud. Just give it a rest.” Laurie closed her eyes and tried to organize her thoughts.
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    How Close I Am to Snapping
by Laurie Madison, grade six
    1. Close enough that if he says one more word against Maria Tutweiler or Tuckernuck Hall, I’ll rip his head off.
    2. Or jab him with that pointy stick.
    3. Actually, one more word period. About anything.
    4. Close enough that it’s time for some deep breathing.
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    Bud kicked the post again, and a big flake of paint landed on Laurie’s head. That was all it took. Deep breathing can only fix so much. Laurie snapped.
    â€œThat’s it!” she said, rolling the scroll back up and slipping it into her jacket pocket. “I’m done. I’m going home. I’ll figure it out tomorrow. If you have any huge insights, you can tell me then. But since Maria Tutweiler is addressing her clues to poetry aficionados, it sounds to me like I’m the only one with any chance of figuring it out, Mr. Dur-de-Dur-Is-That-a-Poem?”
    Laurie grabbed her book bag and flounced off before Bud even had time to shut his mouth.
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    Reasons That Horace (Bud) Wallace Is an Idiot
by Laurie Madison, grade six
    1. Totally ruining the architecture of the school with his irritating kicking habit.
    2. Hasn’t even heard of Emily Dickinson. I mean, come on. Seriously?
    3. Okay, maybe he’s heard of her, but still woefully ignorant.
    4. No help in solving problems, only good at complaining.
    5. What’s up with that ego anyway? Eighth-grade graduation, my butt.
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    Laurie plunked down the basket of garlic bread and slumped into her chair at the dining room table. She’d scoured the hallways after she’d ditched Bud and hadn’t found a single cat painting, statue, or forgotten litter box. She’d even looked at every stupid carving in the molding of the history wing, and nothing. No cats. It wasn’t even worth the glare she’d gotten from Coach Burton in the gym. And she could tell by the gleam in Jack’s eye that he was in one of his pick-on-Laurie moods.
    Jack managed to keep his mouth shut until Mr. Madison had put down the Parmesan cheese. “So did Laurie tell you?” Jack said through a mouthful of spaghetti. He grinned a tomatoey grin at her. Laurie averted her eyes before she was turned off of spaghetti forever.
    â€œShe solved the puzzle.”
    Laurie went cold. He couldn’t know. Could he?
    â€œWhat?” Mrs. Madison paused mid-Parmesan shake. “Laurie didn’t tell me anything. What puzzle? Not THE puzzle?”
    â€œShut up, Jack.” Laurie scowled at the garlic bread like it had committed hideous crimes against garlic bread everywhere. She grabbed the most offensive piece and tore it into pieces on her