The Lost Journals of Bud Wiper: 1, #1

By S.M. Morgan

"Help!! My head is being lowered into the swirling vortex of a toilet!"

 

My name is Teddy, and I'm in the 6th grade. It's my first day at a different school, and so far, the only person I know is Zane, the school bully. I was just your everyday kid trying to stay off everyone's radar, but when I met my new best friend, Bud Wiper, everything changed.

 

Bud is a 6th grade millionaire from 60 years ago.

 

Yep, that's right, Bud Wiper is a treasure hunter from the 1940's who left behind his journal full of life and adventure, and even though we've never met, I think he might be the only thing that gets me through the 6th grade alive.

 

The Lost Journals of Bud Wiper is a fantastic story of bravery and friendship, perfect for kids, middle school students, and adults.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Too Much To Write
• Release date: Mar 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9780997733167

Book preview

Trash Boy

et me explain. The reason I was being shoved into the trash can in the boy’s bathroom at my new school was all my fault. Or at least, that’s what Zane kept telling me after he and his friends cornered me. He said there wasn’t enough time for a swirly, so the trash can would have to do.

The first mistake was me taking his seat during Mrs. Shepard’s first-period math class. The plan was to blend in and grab a seat in the back. Who knew it was the 6th-grade bully’s seat? So much for a strategy plan. Plus, Mrs. Shepard said nothing about assigned seats when I came into class on my first day at Ravenwood Middle School— as a matter of fact, she told me to find any seat.

The second mistake was the slight pause in my reaction to getting up when Zane had asked me to. Surely he could have found another seat, after all, I was there first. He would understand.

But when I looked into his big round face, I knew that he knew that I was thinking of not getting up. He pretty much kicked me out of his seat by shoving my books off the desk. I had no choice— you don’t mess with a guy like that. It’s just not smart. So, I went to the only empty desk in the room.

In the front of the class!

It didn’t matter anyway because switching seats wasn’t enough. It only made things worse and now I was on Zane’s radar. I sat awkwardly on the first row feeling his eyes on the back of my head like laser beams in focus mode, hunting for prey!

And now here we were, in the boy's bathroom, on the first day at my new school. Each time they bombed me into the trash can, I felt my face squish into something wet— I’m pretty sure it was a snotty paper towel or evidence of some kid not flushing their toilet paper after they… you know what. I held my breath because I knew if I smelt it, I would throw up the grilled cheese from lunch.

Zane went on saying that he was doing this for my own good, and that I should have known that was his seat regardless if it was my first day.

No hard feelings, Zane said, patting my back, it doesn’t get better. He and his friends laughed, leaving the bathroom while I pulled wet toilet paper from my face.

I looked at myself in the mirror; this was my life now as a 6th-grader— the lowest kid on the totem pole— fresh meat for 7th and 8th graders to torture. But Zane and his goons, Caleb and Carl, they were 6th-graders too.

I guess I am here for everyone to torture.

But it wasn’t always this way. Over the summer, my mom and I moved to Ravenwood after she was offered a job as a real estate agent. It wasn’t far from where we used to live, but it felt like a world away. The night before we moved, I heard her on the phone with Aunt Carol, telling her it was the right move. Whatever that meant.

I didn’t understand, and it wasn’t like we had family or friends in Ravenwood anyway. We left all that behind.

I came down for breakfast the first morning in our new house, and there she was crying while she held a picture of my dad in his army uniform the day after he graduated from boot camp.

He passed away almost a year ago. I try not to think about it too much, but seeing Mom in the kitchen crying over his photo, I knew then why we had to move to Ravenwood and why she was saying those things to Aunt Carol over the phone the night before leaving.

Dealing with the move has kept my mind busy, but every so often, when I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I think of the adventures Dad and I had, and the ones we could have had.

How was your first day at school, sweetheart? Mom asked, piling my nachos with a massive wad of melted cheese. She hated the stuff but knew how much I loved it. I’m sure it's pity food; she gets this way whenever she senses I’m having a rough time. But it was the third time this week we had it for dinner and you can only have so much nacho cheese. Even I was getting sick of it.

I hated it when she stared at me like that, like if I was going to break in half or something. This morning was the worst! She walked me to the bus, helped me get on, and stood there waving as it drove off. I just stared at the back of the seat in front of me, trying not to give in to the urge to glance around to see if the other kids were watching. I hope she isn’t planning on doing that every morning?

Hello, earth to Teddy. How was school, sweetie? Mom asked, lowering her head to make eye contact.

It was— good, I lied, hoping she wouldn’t dig deeper.

I know it has to be hard starting school in the middle of the week, but you’ll get the hang of things, and after tomorrow, you will have one whole week under your belt. I hope you’re making friends. Maybe in a few weeks, you can have one of them over for a sleepover. She smiled, moving the chips on her plate so that each one was covered with melted cheese sauce.

I perked up. Tomorrow was Friday, and then after that, the weekend: 48 hours of freedom. No school. No Zane. No getting funny stares from people because I was the new kid. Just me being me!

But I still had to endure tomorrow— just one more day.

You know, I moved around a lot at your age when your grandpa was in the Army, she said, stuffing nachos into her mouth, I always felt like it was new beginnings; like a big adventure. I wished you—

Mom, I’m not feeling well, I blurted out. I’m not sure if I should go to school tomorrow.

Immediately dropping her fork, she reached across the table and put the back of her hand to my cheek and then forehead. You don’t feel warm.

No, it’s not that. It’s my stomach. I feel kind of sick.

It’s the nachos. We‘ve had it so much this week.

No, it’s not the nachos.

She cocked her head to the side and then slid her plate away. I knew for sure she had caught me, I could tell by the look on her face. I would be here all night answering her crazy questions if she figured out how horrible my first day of school had gone. She would march straight up there tomorrow morning and scream at the principal because of what Zane did. She didn’t know that it would only make things worse. Far, far worse.

I had to think of something quick! Closing my eyes, I grabbed my stomach as if in pain. I made a sound I imagined only a dying pig stuck in mud could make.

I opened the slits of my eyes and peeked. I knew that she knew that I knew I was busted. I dropped my head.

Let the crazy questions begin.

She studied me for a long while. Teddy, I can’t imagine what you are going through, with me moving you away from your family and friends to a new place, she said, but if you think your stomach is feeling up to it, what if tomorrow you play hooky from school and come to work with me? I’m prepping this old mansion to put on the market. It’s pretty spooky too, but unless you’re too scared? She reached under the table and grabbed my knee. I laughed and shook her hand away. It could have been the first time I had laughed since we moved to Ravenwood.

I can come, seriously? I asked.

She nodded.

I bet it’s huge and old and creepy, isn’t it?

You will love it. It’s so big you might get lost, or find a tunnel that leads to who knows where. Mom ruffled my hair with her hand as she grabbed my plate and headed towards the kitchen.

But only if I’m feeling up for it tomorrow, of course. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, hoping not to jinx my chances of skipping school.

That night, Mom did something she’d never done before. She let me stay up late and watch my favorite scary movie: Nightmare of