Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume Page B

father get Fudge cleaned up. Because by then he was looking kind of messy. I don’t think my father even put him into his pajamas last night. He’s been wearing the same polo shirt ever since my mother left yesterday morning.
    By one o’clock we were ready to go. All three of us wore our raincoats and rubbers and my father took his big, black umbrella. One thing about New York—it’s hard to get a cab when it’s raining. But the movie theater wasn’t very far away. My father said the walk would do us all good. There were a lot of puddles. It was really pouring. I like to walk in the rain. Especially if it isn’t too cold out. It feels nice when it wets your face.
    I jumped over the puddles. My father avoided them too. But not Fudge. He jumped right into every one and splashed around like a little duck. By the time we got to the movie theater the bottoms of his pants were soaked. My father took him into the men’s room. He stuffed a bunch of paper towels up each pant leg so Fudge wouldn’t have to sit around wet. At first Fudge complained. But when my father bought him a big box of popcorn he forgot about his stuffed pants.
    Right after we got settled in our seats a big boy sat down in front of Fudge, so he had to change seats with my father. Now he was on the aisle, I was in the middle, and my father was on my other side.
    When the lights dimmed Fudge said, “Ohhh . . . dark.”
    I told him, “Be quiet. You can’t talk in the movies.”
    â€œOkay, Pee-tah,” he said.
    That’s when he started throwing his popcorn. At first I didn’t notice but I wondered why the people in front of us were turning around every second. Then I heard Fudge whisper, “Pow—pow—pow!” and I saw him throw a handful of popcorn.
    I poked my father. “He’s throwing his popcorn,” I whispered.
    My father reached across me and tapped Fudge on the leg. “If you throw one more piece I’m going to take it away from you.”
    â€œNo throw!” Fudge said very loud.
    â€œShush. . . .” the people in front of us said.
    â€œShush!” Fudge said back to them.
    â€œYou see,” I told my father, “he’s too young for the movies. He doesn’t understand.”
    But from the moment the first bear came on the screen Fudge sat still and watched. And after a while I forgot all about him and concentrated on the movie. It was much better than I thought it would be. It showed all these bear cubs and how they live.
    I’m not sure when I realized Fudge was gone. I guess it was when I turned to ask him if he had any popcorn left. I had already finished mine and was still hungry. I was really surprised to see he wasn’t there. I mean, one minute he was sitting right next to me and the next minute he was gone.
    â€œHey, Dad,” I whispered to my father. “He’s gone.”
    â€œWhat?” my father asked.
    â€œFudge isn’t in his seat.”
    My father looked over. “Where did he go?”
    â€œI don’t know. I just noticed he was gone.”
    â€œLet me out, Peter. I’ll find him.”
    â€œShould I come too?” I asked.
    â€œNo . . . you can sit here and watch the rest of the picture. He’s probably wandering around by the candy counter.”
    I stood up to let my father out. I wondered what my mother would think if she knew Fudge was lost in the movies.
    A few minutes later the picture stopped—right in the middle of a scene. The sound track trailed off like a broken record. All the lights came on. The audience let out a groan. Some kids called, “Boo . . . boo!”
    Then my father and two ushers and a man in a suit came over to me. “He was sitting right here,” my father told them, pointing to the empty seat on the aisle.
    â€œWell,” the man in the suit said, “we’ve checked the rest