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“There could be a tornado,” said Stink, “and the wind could make you drop it, and it could get run over by a bus.”

“Hardee, har, har,” said Judy.

“You do have a lot of other stuff to carry,” said her dad. Judy had her lunch, her dad’s lab coat so she could dress like a doctor for her talk, Hedda-Get-Betta, her doctor kit, and plenty of Band-Aids.

“Okay,” she said, “but don’t squish anything and don’t get it wet and it has to be there by eleven o’clock and don’t let Stink do anything.” She gave her brother her best troll-eyes stare.

“We’ll be careful,” said Dad.

Judy rode the bus with Rocky, who practiced his Squirting Nickel magic trick on her for the one-hundredth time.

“Okay! It works!” Judy told him, wiping drips from her face. Rocky cracked up.

All morning, Judy imagined things happening to her collage. What if it fell into a puddle when her father opened the car door? What if Toady got out of Stink’s pocket and peed on the collage? What if a tornado came, like Stink said . . .

Eleven o’clock came, and her collage still was not there. No sign of Stink. Or Dad.

Judy could hardly listen to the other kids showing their Me collages. She kept her eyes glued to the door of 3T.

“Judy, would you like to go next?” asked Mr. Todd, startling her.

“I’d like to go last,” said Judy.

“Frank?”

“I’d like to go last too,” said Frank. “After Judy.”

Judy looked at Frank’s desk. “Where’s your Me collage?” she asked him.

“I didn’t bring it. I mean, I’m not finished. I still don’t have a CLUB,” Frank whispered. “Where’s yours?”

“My brother’s supposed to bring it,” said Judy. She glanced at the door again. There he was! Stink motioned for her to come out in the hall.

Stink looked sick. “What’s wrong?” Judy asked.

“If I tell you,” said Stink, “you’ll be in the worst mood ever.”

“Where is it?” asked Judy. “Did you drop my collage in a puddle? Did Toady pee on it?”

“No,” said Stink. “Not that.”

“Where is it?” she asked again.

“Dad’s in the boys’ room. Drying it off.”

Judy ran down to the boys’ room, pushed the door open, and went right in. Crumpled paper towels were everywhere. “Dad!”

“Judy!”

“Is it ruined? Let me see!”

Dad held up her collage. Right smack dab in the center was a big purple stain the size of a pancake. Not a silver dollar one either. A giant, jaggedy triangle — a grape-colored lake floating in the middle of her collage!

“What happened?” Judy yelled.

“I was drinking Jungle Juice from a box,” said Stink, standing behind her in the doorway, “and trying this thing with my straw. . . . I’m sorry.”

“Stink! You wrecked it. Dad! How could you let him drink Jungle Juice in the car?”

“Look, it’s not that bad,” he said. “It almost looks like it’s supposed to be there. I’ll speak with Mr. Todd. Maybe he’ll let you have the weekend and we can fix it. Cover it up somehow.”

“Maybe we can erase it,” said Stink. “With a giant eraser.”

“Let me see.” Judy held up the collage, looking it over. Even with the purple stain, she could still see the rain forest with Doctor Judy Moody in the very middle. And none of the Band-Aids had come off.

“Never mind,” said Judy.

“Never mind?” asked Dad.

“It’s okay,” she said. “At least it didn’t get run over by a bus in a tornado.”

“It’s okay?” asked Stink. “You mean you’re not going to put a rubber foot in my bed or anything?”

“No,” said Judy. She grinned at her brother. “But that is a good idea.”

“Look, honey. I know you worked forever on this. We’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“I know what to do. Stink, let me have your black marker.” They all went out into the hall, and Stink dug a marker out of his backpack. Judy set the collage on the floor and drew a black outline around the big purple triangle.

“Are you cuckoo?” asked Stink. “That’s just going to make it stand out more.”

“That’s what I want,” said Judy. “Then it’ll look like it was supposed to be there all the time.”

“I’m proud of you, Judy,” said Dad. “The way you took an accident like this and turned it into something good.”

“What’s it supposed to be?” Stink asked.

“Virginia,” she said. “The state of Pocahontas