Calling All Birdbrains Read Free Page A

said. “But no problem. I’ll grab a snack later.”
    â€œI put ketchup on each French fry,” Belzer said. “And I tasted each grape to make sure they were all sweet.”
    â€œYou’re the man!” I said. I handed Lippy to him. “Put him into his cage and cover it with a heavy blanket. I never want to see him again.”

    â€œAre you sure this is your parrot?” Belzer asked. “He looks like a bald eagle.”
    I sighed. “Feenman and Crench rubbed the feathers off his head. And I think they rubbed all the good luck off, too.”
    Belzer petted Lippy’s bald head. Lippy bit his little finger off.
    â€œThe feathers will grow back,” Belzer said whenhe finally stopped screaming.
    â€œI can’t wait around for feathers to grow,” I said. “Look how much bad luck he already brought me!” I waved my hand—and spilled the thick strawberry shake into my lap.
    â€œSee? See ?” I cried. “And strawberry is my favorite! I can’t take this!”
    Belzer scrunched up his face till it looked like a closed fist. That’s how you can tell when he’s trying to think.
    â€œMaybe Nurse Hanley knows a way to fix Lippy,” he said.
    â€œYes!” I cried. I jumped up excitedly—and spilled the rest of the food all over my shoes. “Yes! Nurse Hanley!”
    I grabbed the bird around the neck and started to the door. I knew Nurse Hanley could help. Nurse Hanley is a genius!
    I mean, when Belzer woke up one morning and couldn’t walk, we were all terrified. But it was Nurse Hanley who instantly saw that his shoes were on backward.
    And two weeks ago, Feenman cut his knee tryingto walk on the ceiling. Nurse Hanley did a brilliant job of bandaging it. It turned out she bandaged the wrong leg . But it didn’t matter. By the time she finished, the bleeding had stopped, anyway.
    Brilliant!

    Her office door was closed. I gave it four or five hard knocks. “Nurse Hanley? Are you in there?”
    Then I saw a little handwritten sign next to the door. My glasses were broken. I had to squint to read it:
    I couldn’t believe it.
    More bad luck for me.
    I stared at the bald bird in my hands.
    What should I do now?

Chapter 9
L IPPY T AKES A P OWDER
    I walked across the Great Lawn, carrying Lippy back to the dorm. As I passed the statue of I. B. Rotten, I saw that spoiled rich kid Sherman Oaks. Why was he surrounded by a big bunch of kids?
    As I walked closer, I saw that Sherman was showing off a new bike. “It has a 3-D navigation system,” Sherman told the crowd. “I just pedal, and it steers itself.”

    A lot of kids were impressed.
    â€œThe bike has six cup holders,” Sherman said. “Is that cool, or what?”
    I tried to hurry away, but Sherman spotted me. “Hey, Bernie—another you-know-what tournament tonight?”
    â€œSorry. Can’t do it,” I said. “I promised Mrs. Heinie I’d help her with her knitting.”
    No way I could play cards with Sherman or anyone else. Not with Unlucky Lippy around. I’d lose big-time!
    I trotted off, and a few steps later— more bad luck.
    I ran into Angel Goodeboy.
    Angel is blond and blue-eyed and apple-cheeked and sweet looking. He looks like he should have a halo over his head.
    With his sweet smile and good manners, Mrs. Heinie, Headmaster Upchuck, and all the grownups think he’s a perfect angel.
    But I know the truth about Angel. He’s NOT an angel—unless you spell Angel like this: R-A-T .
    â€œWhat’s up, Angel?” I asked.
    He flashed me his dazzling, angelic smile. “I’m so excited , Bernie. My favorite cousin, Jolly Goodfellow, is coming to visit.”
    Angel’s smile faded. He squinted at Lippy. “Oh, my gosh and golly!” he exclaimed. “What happened to your lovely bird?”
    I shrugged. “No big deal. He lost a few feathers.”
    Angel patted my shoulder