Free The Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Treasure Hunt by Megan McDonald

As long as ships have sailed the seas, there have been pirates. And as long as there have been pirates, Stink Moody has wanted to sail on a ship to an island. A
treasure
island.
    A ferryboat wasn’t exactly a pirate ship — but still! Stink reached into his survival kit (aka his backpack). Compass, flashlight, small notebook,
Treasure Island,
pirate flag, pirate rule book . . . spyglass!
    From the upper deck of the ferry, Stink peered through his spyglass with one eye. The eye not covered with a pirate patch, that is.
    All he could see was blue, blue, blue. Blue sky. Blue water. Blue . . . T-shirt? His sister, Judy Moody, was blocking his view. “Hey, Judy. You make a better door than a window.”
    When Judy moved, Stink focused his spyglass on the horizon. “I think I see it,” said Stink. “Vegetable Island! I mean, Artichoke Island.”
    “You mean Ocracoke Island,” Judy corrected him.
    “Whatever,” said Stink. “I just want to meet pirates and look at shipwrecks and see real gold and find treasure.”

    “Yeah, right. We’re only in North Carolina for a few days.”
    Through his spyglass, Stink spotted Mom and Dad down on the lower deck. “Ahoy! You there, on the poop deck,” he called.
    “What’s the poop deck? Wait, that’s where all the seagulls poop, right? Let me look.” Judy grabbed the spyglass from Stink.
    Stink swung his arms in the air and sang like a pirate:
    “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest —

Yo-ho-ho, and a bucket of fun!”
    “Hey, Stink, there’s a boy on the poop deck staring up at you. That tall one wearing the turtle T-shirt. Next to that girl with the glasses. She looks smart. And she’s staring at you, too.”
    Stink sliced the air with his invisible sword.
    “Fifteen chests on the dead man’s bum —

Yo-ho-ho, and a packet of gum!”
    Stink pretended to walk the plank on the upper deck. The boat hit a bunch of waves. Judy hung on tight to the rail. Stink slumped to the deck, making pukey stomachache faces.
    “What’s wrong?” Judy asked. “Are you going to puke?”
    “
Arrrr!
Never say ‘puke’ when a pirate’s about to puke.”
    Judy tried to think of something — anything to take Stink’s mind off the pukes. A joke! “Stink. What do you call pirate throw-up?”
    “I said please DON’T say ‘puke.’”
    “I didn’t say ‘puke.’ I said ‘throw-up.’”
    “You’re like the Girl Who Cried Throw-Up or something.”
    “Okay, then what do you call pirate heave-ho?” said Judy.
    “I call it
gross,
” said Stink.
    “No, you call it Pieces-o’-Ate!” She laughed herself silly.
    “My feet itch.” Stink scratched his feet like mad. “And my teeth hurt. Do I have red blotches on me? Are my teeth falling out?”

    “Stick out your tongue and say
ARRRR
,” said Doctor Judy. “Stink, you’re already missing two teeth, and your face is sunburned.”
    “Tummy ache. Feet itch. Teeth falling out. Red face.
And
I’m cranky.”
    “I’ll say.”
    “That’s it. I have it.”
    “Have what?”
    “Scurvy!” said Stink. “I’m dead.”
    “Scurvy!” said Judy. “You’re just a little seasick. Close your eyes for a minute, and put your head between your knees. Here, Mom gave me crackers in case we felt like we might hurl.”
    Stink was quiet for a while, munching on crackers. Finally, when the boat wasn’t rocking anymore, he stood up. “I’m okay now. I feel much better.” Stink even waved his red Jolly Roger at his parents.
    “What’s with the red pirate flag, Stink?” Judy asked.

    “For your information, this was the flag of a real Moody pirate.”
    “A moody pirate? Rare! But weren’t all pirates pretty grumpy?”
    “His name was Christopher Moody,” said Stink. “He sailed around the Carolinas with Black Bart. He’s one of the only pirates with a red flag. It had a skull and crossbones, an arm with a dagger, and an hourglass with wings. That means,
Your time is running out.
Get it?”
    “Whoa,” said Judy. “A for-real