Never Swim in Applesauce Read online

  Roscoe Riley Rules #4

  Never Swim in Applesauce

  Katherine Applegate

  Illustrated by Brian Biggs

  This book is for Austin

  from his friends

  Katherine and Goofy

  Contents

  1. Welcome to Time-Out

  2. Something You Should Know Before We Get Started

  3. Something Else You Should Know Before We Get Started

  4. Happy Apple Orchard

  5. The Magic Fortune-Telling Ball

  6. One Hundred Apples Up High in a Tree

  7. Granny Smiths

  8. The Amazing Apple

  9. Why You Should Never Eat an Apple with a Hole in It

  10. Boy-Flavored Applesauce

  11. Good-Bye from Time-Out

  About the Author

  Other Books by Katherine Applegate

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1

  Welcome to Time-Out

  Yep. It’s me. Roscoe Riley.

  Stuck in time-out again.

  And speaking of stuck, have I got a story for you!

  A very sticky story.

  See, my class went on a field trip to an apple farm.

  A field trip is when you go somewhere more fun than even recess and lunch put together.

  We went to an apple farm so we could learn about where our food comes from.

  Besides the pizza delivery guy.

  All the kids went. And our teacher.

  And some moms and dads to make sure we didn’t get rowdy or do troublemaking.

  I didn’t get rowdy.

  Well, maybe just once or twice.

  But I did get into a teeny, tiny, practically invisible bit of trouble.

  Who knew there was a rule about not jumping into a giant tub of applesauce?

  I’ll bet you’ve done some applesauce swimming, haven’t you?

  No?

  Well, trust me on this. You should stick to swimming in real, live swimming pools.

  Applesauce is very…well, appley.

  But maybe I should start at the beginning.

  The part before I got apple-slimed.

  2

  Something You Should Know Before We Get Started

  Worms are good for fishing and for scaring little sisters and sometimes dads.

  But they do not make a very good snack.

  I hear they taste sort of like mushy macaroni.

  3

  Something Else You Should Know Before We Get Started

  Everybody loves plain applesauce.

  And cinnamon applesauce.

  And even raspberry-flavored applesauce.

  But boy-flavored applesauce?

  Not so much.

  4

  Happy Apple Orchard

  When I first heard about our field trip, I was pretty excited.

  Almost as excited as my teacher, Ms. Diz.

  She told us about the trip in a very thrilled way, with tons of exclamation points in her voice.

  “Children!” Ms. Diz said first thing that morning. “I have a wonderful surprise! This Friday we are going on a field trip! The first one for our class!” She grinned. “And the first one for me since I became a teacher!”

  Ms. Diz is a brand-new teacher. I help her out whenever I can.

  I know a lot because I am a retired kindergartner.

  “My brother’s class went on a trip to a bakery and they got free doughnuts,” I said.

  Then I raised my hand real quick because sometimes I forget to remember that part.

  You aren’t supposed to talk until you put your hand up in the air and wave it like crazy because that is better than just yelling at the top of your lungs.

  “If we can’t go on a bakery field trip, maybe a cotton-candy factory would be good. Or an aquarium with giant, kid-eating sharks,” I added.

  Sometimes my imagination button gets stuck on fast-forward.

  “Those are great suggestions, Roscoe,” said Ms. Diz. “But we’ve already made plans for this trip. I’ll give you a hint, class. What have we been learning about the past few weeks?”

  “If you squeeze your juice box hard, you get a gusher!” said Dewan.

  “Do not pick your nose during snack time,” Coco said.

  For some reason, she looked right at me.

  “The pencil sharpener is not for crayons,” Gus offered.

  Ms. Diz held up her hands to make a T. Like a coach taking a time-out.

  She does that when she wants us to be quiet. Which is pretty often, come to think of it.

  “We’ve been learning about where our food comes from,” Ms. Diz reminded us.

  She said the last part very slowly. So our brains could catch up with her mouth.

  “Remember we talked about how vegetables and fruits come from farms?” Ms. Diz asked. “And about how the farmers grow the food and pick it, then send it on trucks to stores where we can buy it? I know how much you guys love applesauce, and apple pies, and taffy apples,” Ms. Diz said. “That’s why we are going to visit—”

  I finished for her. “THE GROCERY STORE!!!” I yelled. “I LOVE the grocery store because I push the cart for my mom and dad except not anymore because I knocked over a watermelon pile and that knocked over a lemon pile and whoa, that was cool because it looked just like pink lemonade!”

  “Roscoe,” said Ms. Diz while I stopped to take a breath, “I need you to think before speaking. Okay?”

  I thought for a while. “Okay!” I said after I figured I’d been thinking long enough.

  “As I was trying to say,” said Ms. Diz, “we are going to an apple orchard!”

  “You mean where they make apples?” Gus asked.

  “They don’t make apples, they grow them,” said Ms. Diz. “There are hundreds of apple trees at Happy Apple Orchard. They produce all kinds of apples. Green and red and yellow, sweet and sour. We’ll each get to pick our own apples!”

  That was way better than a field trip to a plain old field!

  We did a lot of cheering and jumping out of our chairs and clapping.

  Until Ms. Diz had to ring her gong.

  It is a very loud bell that helps us Stay Focused.

  Staying Focused is when you Stop Acting Like Preschoolers, Class.

  “They make lots of food at Happy Apple too,” Ms. Diz said when we were quiet. “We’ll get to see them bake apple pies and make applesauce. We might even get to eat some! But only if you all are on your best behavior.”

  Pie and applesauce? That was too much great news.

  Ms. Diz had to gong four times before we settled down.

  But who could blame us?

  We were going on a field trip to see happy apples!

  5

  The Magic Fortune-Telling Ball

  When my brother, Max, and I got home from school that afternoon, my dad was in the kitchen.

  Some days Dad works at home.

  He says it makes him appreciate the office more.

  “Dad!” I yelled. “We are going on a field trip! My whole class!”

  “Get a chocolate doughnut when you go,” Max said. “The jelly ones are stale.”

  “We aren’t going to a bakery,” I said. “We are going to an apple maker.”

  “You mean an orchard?” Dad said. “Cool.”

  Max made a face. “Better luck next time.”

  “Sounds like fun to me,” said Dad. “Roscoe will get to pick apples, I’ll bet. And who knows? Maybe they’ll have free taffy apples. Or free pie.” He got a big smile on his face. “I do love a good apple pie. Especially a free one.”

  My little sister, Hazel, came into the kitchen. She was wearing a black pirate eye patch, o
veralls, a fluffy pink ballet tutu, and a pair of my dad’s old sneakers.

  “Hazel, my dear, as always you are looking very fashionable,” Dad said.

  If you ask me, little kids should not be allowed to dress themselves.

  “Did somebody say pie?” Hazel asked.

  “I’m going on a field trip to an apple-growing place,” I explained. “They might even give away pie and applesauce.”

  “Applesauce is my favorite,” Hazel said. “Except for gummi worms and broccoli.”

  Hazel pulled a small red ball out of one of her pockets.

  Hazel loved that ball. She carried it everywhere she went. And she refused to share it.

  Of course, it wasn’t just a plain old everyday ball. It was a magic ball that could tell the future.

  All you had to do was shake it. Then ask it a yes-or-no kind of question.

  When you turned it over, there on the bottom, in a little bitty window, was your answer.

  Hazel can’t read yet. I think she just liked the ball because it was so shiny.

  And because Max and I wanted to play with it.

  “Magic ball, will I ever get to go on a field trip and eat pie?” Hazel asked.

  She turned the ball over. “What does it say?” she asked Dad.

  Dad looked at the bottom of the ball. “It says, ‘YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT!’”

  “Can I borrow your ball for one second?”

  I asked Hazel. “I just want to ask it about my field trip.”

  “Nope.” Hazel shook her head.

  “Please?” I begged. I smiled my best smile.

  The one that makes Grandma say, “You old charmer, you!”

  It works on grandmas.

  But not so much on little sisters.

  Hazel shook her head again. “Nope.”

  She tossed her ball in the air. When she tried to catch it in her tutu, the ball dropped onto the floor.

  It rolled behind the refrigerator.

  “I’ll get it for you, Hazel,” Max said.

  “No, wait! I’ll get it!” I said quickly.

  Because I am a helpful brother.

  And also because I really wanted to get my hands on that ball.

  “I have dibs,” Max said.

  “You just want it ’cause I want it,” I said to Max.

  “You just want it ’cause Hazel says you can’t have it,” Max replied.

  It was hard to argue with that one.

  “Besides,” Max added, “you had a ball like that and you lost it.”

  “I didn’t lose it,” I said. “I accidentally dropped it in the garbage disposal when I was giving it a bath.”

  “We paid three hundred and twenty dollars to repair the disposal, if I recall correctly,” said Dad.

  “I don’t want to get my tutu dirty,” Hazel said. “Whoever gets the ball can play with it.”

  Max and I dashed to the refrigerator.

  He took one side. I took the other.

  We both reached for the ball.

  I had to lie on the floor and s-t-r-e-t-c-h my left arm extra far.

  When I stood up, I had dog hair, dust balls, and three Froot Loops stuck to my shirt. But I also had the ball.

  I brushed off the hair and dust and ate the Froot Loops.

  “Roscoe,” Dad said, “please save the floor food for the dog. And why are you two so interested in that ball?”

  “It’s not just a ball, Dad,” I said. “It’s a ball that tells the future.”

  “I got it at Howie Hubble’s birthday party,” Hazel said. “’Cause I won pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.”

  She started to take the ball from my hand.

  “C’mon, Hazel,” I begged. “You said whoever rescued the ball could play with it.”

  “You have got to promise, promise, PROMISE to give this back to me. Soon,” Hazel said.

  “How about Friday?” I asked.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise,” I said. “You can count on me.”

  “Cross your heart and hope to fry?”

  “Trust me, Hazel,” I said.

  “I trusted you with my Butterfly Barbie, and you let the dog eat one of her wings.”

  “That was a total accident. I wanted to see if she could fly,” I explained. “And Goofy thought she was a Frisbee. I promise you that nothing will happen to this ball.”

  “Okay,” she said, but she sounded like she didn’t believe me.

  I shook the magic ball. “Magic fortune-telling ball,” I said, “will I have fun on my field trip?”

  I turned the ball over and read the message.

  “CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN,” it said.

  I tried again. “Will I have fun at the apple orchard?”

  “ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY YES!” it said.

  Of course, I already knew that would be the answer.

  6

  One Hundred Apples Up High in a Tree

  When our field-trip day finally came, I woke up extra early to be sure I wouldn’t miss anything.

  Turns out four in the morning is a little too early.

  Moms and dads are very grumbly that time of day.

  After I took the bus to school, we did the usual morning stuff.

  The Pledge of a Wee Gent.

  Morning Nouncements.

  Calendar.

  Weather.

  And Sharing Time.

  I shared Hazel’s magic fortune-telling ball.

  It was my second time sharing it.

  But Ms. Diz said that was okay because I was clearly very attached to it.

  Also, it was my last day of having the ball.

  After school I had to give it back to Hazel.

  She’d reminded me at breakfast.

  Twice.

  The first time I shared the ball, I had forgotten to ask it a yes-or-no question.

  This time I asked it, “Will this be my most funnest day ever?”

  I turned it over and checked the answer.

  “‘OUTLOOK CLOUDY,’” I read.

  “It’s going to rain?” Gus cried. “But that means no apple picking!”

  “I think the ball means a different kind of cloudy,” said Ms. Diz. “It means it’s not sure what the answer is. But let’s remember it’s just a toy, and toys can’t tell the future. Besides, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that today will be a fun day for all of you.”

  At last we lined up and headed outside to the field-trip bus.

  I sat next to Emma. She’s my best friend.

  Gus sat in front of us. He’s my other best friend.

  Gus had to sit next to Wyatt.

  Sometimes I call Wyatt “Bully Breath.”

  When I do that, Mom corrects me. “Let’s just say that Wyatt does not exactly have a winning personality,” she says.

  But that’s way too many words to remember.

  Today we had to be polite to Wyatt because he was part of our apple-picking team.

  On the bus there were some moms and dads, but my mom and dad couldn’t come because they had to work.

  Which was okay. Because sometimes parents can be embarrassing.

  Like when they wipe your nose with a tissue when you have a perfectly good sleeve available.

  Before we got going, Ms. Diz stood up at the front of the bus.

  We were pretty exuberant.

  Emma taught me that word. She likes words a lot.

  It means “full of excitement.”

  Only exuberant sounds better.

  We were so exuberant, I’ll bet Ms. Diz wished she had her gong with her.

  “I know you’re all thrilled about our first field trip!” said Ms. Diz when we finally quieted down. “Now, when we first arrive at the orchard, we are going to listen to a lecture. After that we will pick apples. Do you all remember the rule we talked about?”

  “Stay with your apple team!” we yelled.

  “This is our very first field trip,” Ms. Diz said. “So please let’s be on our best behavior, okay, kids? No trouble, or
we won’t be able to have another trip someday.”

  The bus engine roared. We waved good-bye to our school.

  “Happy apples, here we come!” I said.

  All the way to the apple farm we sang a fun song.

  It is called “One Hundred Apples Up High in a Tree.”

  Here is how it goes. In case you ever drive to an apple farm and need some entertainment.

  One hundred apples up high in a tree!

  One hundred apples up high!

  Take one down and pass it around.

  Ninety-nine apples up high in a tree!

  Then you sing “Ninety-nine apples up high in a tree.”

  Then ninety-eight.

  Then ninety-seven.

  You keep on going until you get to “One apple up high in a tree.”

  And then—bam! You start all over again.

  We sang that song a zillion times.

  And nobody ever got tired of it.

  Except I think maybe Coco’s mom didn’t like it so much.

  On account of she put Kleenex in her ears.

  7

  Granny Smiths

  Happy Apple Orchard had rows and rows of apple trees.

  And a tour guy to show us how to pick apples. He had a green shirt with a red apple on the pocket.

  His name was Abe.

  Abe said apples are good for you. So it’s not even cheating that they taste good too.

  Abe showed us how the inside of the apple has little black seeds in it.

  Whole entire trees grow up from them!

  Abe told us that the fuzzy part at the bottom of an apple is called a sepal.

  He also said most of an apple is made of water, but there’s some air in there too.

  That’s why apples float!

  Finally the learning part was over and it was time to PICK!

  Abe gave each team a big basket to carry their apples in.