Getty Culligan and the Monster Dust Devil

By Kathleen M. Mucerino and Bean's Nana

Getty Culligan is a typical thirteen-year-old trying to fit in, unlike his little sister Tegan who claims to possess magical powers. Getty will admit Tegan knows some tricks, but he knows there is really nothing magical about her. But when a monster-sized dust devil pops up on their way to school one day and carries Tegan away, Getty begins to u

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Sep 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685158798

Book preview

The day Tegan disappears starts like any other day. Mom and Dad have gone to work. They left a note on the refrigerator telling us to have a wonderful day, wishing me good luck on my science test, and telling me for the zillionth time that I can’t have a phone yet. They’re always leaving notes like that on the refrigerator. Dorky. Tegan and I are eating breakfast. Tegan is saying dumb stuff like she always does.

Getty! I’m a prodigy!

See what I mean?

Being a big brother to a kid like Tegan is a lot of work. Eight years ago, Mom and Dad told me I was going to be a big brother and life would be incredible! I believed them. I was five. Tegan was born, and that made me a big brother. The incredible stuff never happened. I can’t believe Mom and Dad lied to me like that.

When the crunch is out of my cereal, I swallow and say, You’re absolutely not a prodigy.

Great-Aunt Esmeralda says I’m a prodigy!

Tegan’s favorite dumb thing to talk about is Great-Aunt Esmeralda. Thing is, we don’t have a Great-Aunt Esmeralda. Other kids have imaginary friends. Tegan has an imaginary Great-Aunt Esmeralda who’s magical and teaching Tegan to be magical. The imaginary Great-Aunt Esmeralda is always taking Tegan to magical places, getting her magical stuff, and teaching her magical things. All of that’s in Tegan’s head until it comes out her mouth. It’s all super annoying.

I used to try to get Tegan to admit that Great-Aunt Esmeralda isn’t real. I gave up because Tegan’s too stubborn.

I give Tegan my meanest smile. She’s wrong.

Great-Aunt Esmeralda is not wrong! Tegan yells. She’s never wrong!

Well, she’s not right!

Getty! You don’t know anything.

I finish my cereal and dump the bowl in the sink. It clanks against the stainless steel. I dig through the freezer for some breakfast dessert and tell Tegan, I know that to be a prodigy, you have to be naturally super good at something.

Tegan smiles at me. I am naturally super good at lots of things. Especially magic!

Magic shmagic! The only thing you’re good at is being a pain in my butt.

I take a seat on the counter and enjoy the chocolate ice cream Mom hides in the back of the freezer. Don’t! I tell Tegan when she opens her mouth to say it’s Mom’s ice cream and blah, blah, blah.

Now Tegan sits before her cereal, pouting. At least she’s quiet. She’s wearing her dumb orange hat. Foxie, her orange stuffed fox, sits on the table next to her cereal bowl. Tegan has had Foxie since she was a baby, but she’s only been wearing the orange hat for the past month. Tegan says orange is her magical color.

The hat’s stupid, but it’s harmless. The fox is a different story. I stay far away from that fox. Have since she got here. Tegan was just a few days old when the doorbell rang. Mom was busy with baby Tegan and asked me to answer the door. No one was there. A red box with an orange ribbon sat in front of our front door. I thought it was for me. I started to open it.

I’m not for you! something inside the box hollered.

I dropped the box. It sounded like a little girl. Freaky when you’re five. How could a little girl fit in that box? I tried to sneak back inside the house.

The thing inside the box hollered again. You dweeb! I’m for the baby. Take me inside.

I froze. Whoever was in that box had a temper. Very carefully, I did as it said.

I gave the box to Mom. She turned the box this way and that before she asked me if I knew who it was from. I shook my head.

It was by the front door. No one was there, I said.

How strange, Mom said. No name on it anywhere.

It said it’s for the baby, I told her.

Who said?

The box.

The box talked?

I shrugged my shoulders.

Boxes can’t talk, Mom said.

Whatever’s inside talked then.

I don’t think that’s possible.

She unwrapped the package. I stepped back. Mom opened the box.

Foxie was in that box.

How adorable, Mom said. "It is for the baby! A little orange stuffed fox."

"Looks like a teddy bear fox," I said.

Mom put the little orange stuffed teddy bear fox next to Tegan.

Look, Getty, Mom said. Tegan likes the fox.

I don’t know how she could tell. Tegan was sound asleep.

Is that safe? I asked.

Of course, Mom said. It’s a stuffed fox, dear. It won’t hurt anyone.

Mom was wrong.

Tegan’s stuffed fox does look like a cross between a fox and a teddy bear, but never say that in front of Foxie. Calling her a teddy bear fox makes her mad. Foxie’s smaller than a real fox. I could fit her in my pocket. I’d never put her in my pocket on account of I think she’d bite me. Yeah, it sounds crazy. She’s a stuffed fox. But I can’t shake thinking Tegan’s fox doesn’t like me. It started the fox’s first night at our house. I had this dream. Not really a dream, more like a hallucination. I have those sometimes.

Tegan had been at our house for three days and nights when Foxie arrived. Mostly all Tegan did back then was sleep, wake up, cry, eat, poop, and pee. Didn’t give us much time to get to know each other. I did something about that. Tegan would fall asleep all the time, day or night. When she did, I’d make sure Mom and Dad were busy somewhere else. Then I’d sneak up on Tegan and give her raspberries on her belly. Prrphhhh. Her legs and arms would shoot out like she was a skydiver.

She’d scream, Brawhhhh! I’d be back in my room laughing my head off by the time Mom or Dad checked on why Tegan was screaming. I wanted to make sure the new baby knew who I was. I was giving baby Tegan raspberries on her belly every chance I got.

Then Foxie arrived.

That night, as usual, I went into Tegan’s room to give her raspberries. It was great when Tegan screamed in the middle of the night. I leaned over the side of Tegan’s crib to prrphhhh on her belly. Foxie was next to her.

Sure, it was a hallucination, but I swear that stuffed toy fox stood up on its back legs. It pointed one of its front paws in my face and said, Knock it off, kid!

Then Foxie grabbed my nose with both paws and squeezed hard. It really hurt. Foxie kept yelling even though I was leaving. And I am not a ‘teddy bear fox.’ I am a magical fox. Get out of here, kid! Scram!

I got out of there! Ran even. I never gave Tegan another raspberry. I know a stuffed fox can’t talk or move around like that. Again, I was five. It seemed real. Sometimes I still think it was real. It can’t be. I could have been sleepwalking, or it was something I ate. Maybe that Foxie’s part robot. Sometimes I still think she’s watching me. I know. That would be crazy.

So, except for Tegan chattering about the new hat and how she got it, the hat’s nothing compared to Foxie. Tegan does insist we call her hat a fedora. Fedora’s just a fancy name for a hat. I looked it up. According to Tegan, Great-Aunt Esmeralda told her it was a fedora, not just a hat. Tegan claims Great-Aunt Esmeralda took her to someplace called Sukakah because it was time Tegan had her fedora. Tegan keeps complaining that camels that live in Sukakah stink. That’s Tegan’s kind of chattering.

Tegan says about a million dumb things every day. Every one of them dumber and chattier than the one before. None of it makes any sense. Like last week, she said that Great-Aunt Esmeralda took her to Nepal. They rode on an elephant named Karmi. According to Tegan, the name means hard worker. Tegan and Great-Aunt Esmeralda went to the Ethiopian cheetah races and ate pizza. Next time we go snowboarding, Tegan thinks we should go to Canada because that’s where she and Great-Aunt Esmeralda go to snowboard. Then just like that she’s talking about Freddie, the best Galapagos tortoise in the world. Freddie’s best friend is Darwin the penguin.

Don’t get me started on Tegan and penguins. Tegan loves penguins. Every time we go on a trip, we have to stop at the local zoo and see the penguins. She wants us to take a trip to Antarctica so she can see penguins there. If she’s not talking about being magical and the not real Great-Aunt Esmeralda, she’s talking about penguins.

All of Tegan’s dumb talking gives me a big headache. I definitely don’t mind that right now she’s still pouting about me calling her a pain in my butt. It’s always better when she’s pouting because she’s quiet.

Tegan squints her eyes and opens her mouth. She’s done pouting.

I am not a butt pain!

It took her all this time to think of that. Pathetic. She can’t even argue right. I give her plenty of practice. She should be better at it. Dad says Tegan and I are our own Civil War.

Oh no! The book. The library book on the Civil War. I’ve got to return it this morning.

Finish eating, I tell Tegan. We have to get to school before the first bell.

I can boss her around like that because it’s my job to get her to school since Mom and Dad go to work early. After school, I have to get her home in one piece. It’s not easy.

I want to go to school the usual time, Tegan says.

Too bad. I have to do something. I finish off the last of the ice cream too fast. Brain freeze. I pound on my forehead. Should have skipped the ice cream.

Tegan giggles as she clears her cereal bowl. She holds it above the sink. When she lets it go, the bowl should crash, but it doesn’t. Never does. Instead, it floats in the air, slowly going down like it’s a feather. I pretend not to notice. She does it every morning. I don’t know how Tegan does that trick, but it’s a trick. Tegan has been doing tricks for as long as I can remember. She gets Mom to take her to the magic store in town. Tegan comes home and drives us crazy while she learns her newest trick. Most of them are pretty dumb, but every now and then she learns a good one. I wish Mom would stop taking her to that store.

She grabs Foxie and plops herself on the sofa in front of the television. Tegan loves television. She always watches television before school, even when I’m in a hurry. Right now, it doesn’t matter that she’s going to watch television because I have to find a very overdue library book. I have no idea where it is. Yeah, I should have looked for it last night or at least remembered it before five seconds ago.

The television goes on, the volume adjusts, and the channels change. Tegan makes it look like the television does all that without a remote. I know Tegan has a remote hidden somewhere. I’ll find it one of these days.

I’ve got bigger problems. Yesterday, Mrs. Zeldin, the school librarian, found me during lunch. I was sitting with some of my friends at our usual table. Annie Delaney and Thea Pelson had come over and joined us. They’re the most popular girls in our class. I’ve heard rumors that Annie likes me. A guy like me can’t really believe something like that. I mean, Annie Delaney liking me? No way.

But yesterday, she and Thea came over to our table, and Annie said, Hi, Getty. Okay if we sit here?

Fantastic. We were having a great time. Annie’s wonderful. I start thinking that maybe I can ask Annie to go to the school dance with me. Students have until today to tell the school office they’re going to the dance. Otherwise, you can’t go. Yesterday, I was about to ask Annie when Mrs. Zeldin saw me. In front of everyone, Mrs. Zeldin told me that if I didn’t return my overdue library book before the first bell rang the next morning, she’d call my parents. I have to get it there this morning. When Mrs. Zeldin walked away, everyone at our lunch table laughed, and Annie Delaney and Thea Pelson moved back to their usual table. All because of a book about the Civil War.

Our history teacher, Mr. Grant, had us write a paper that we researched using books from the library instead of technology. He wanted us to see how he had to research stuff in the old days. I bet he never lost a library book and had Mrs. Zeldin scare off the most popular girls in class.

I don’t even like history very much. I’m into science, especially animals. I’m thinking of being a zoologist. My science teacher lets us do all our research on our computer like normal people do.

I start looking everywhere for the history book.

It’s not here, Tegan says, mostly to the television.

I’m picking up the cushions on the sofa. No book.

I push Tegan until she moves so I can check under that cushion. No book.

It’s in your closet, Tegan insists.

What’s in my closet? I ask her.

The library book.

How do you know what I’m looking for?

Foxie told me.

Foxie can’t talk! I tell her for the hundred zillionth time.

Okay, but it’s in your closet. You threw it in there when you were cleaning your room.

How do you know?

Foxie always watches when you clean your room.

Why would a stuffed fox watch me clean my room?

Tegan smiles. Foxie thinks it’s funny watching you clean. All you do is throw everything in your closet.

The last time I cleaned my room was a month ago, I remind her.

That’s what Foxie said. The book’s late.

If I find it in my closet, I know you put it there, I say as I head upstairs.

I have to dig through a bunch of stuff in my closet, but there it is. The book on the Civil War. I’ll get Tegan later. Right now, we’ve got to get to school. I stuff the book into my backpack as I run downstairs and tell Tegan we’re leaving. I ignore the television going off on its own.

I’m riding my scooter, Tegan announces when we get to