That evening, however, something strange happened.
Jason was trying to get through page twenty-six, when suddenly he laughed. He read some more, and laughed again.
It was as if he and the character had become friends. He read for an entire hour without realizing it.
When he reached page seventy, something sad happened, and he hoped his sister didn’t notice his tears.
He stayed up all night. He read about exciting battles, and strange and goofy animals. No matter how tired he got, he kept needing to know what happened next.
The next day during recess, while everyone else played, Jason preferred to sit by himself with his book. He even liked the kissing parts, but had to keep glancing around, to make sure Allison and Rondi couldn’t see what he was reading.
The two girls came toward him.
“He’ll never finish it,” said Allison.
“No way,” Rondi agreed.
“Shh,” said Jason. “I’m trying to read.”
17
The Best Principal Ever!!!
Mrs. Jewls went from desk to desk, handing back everyone’s history homework. “Nice job, Eric,” she said to one of the Erics. “Well done, Eric,” she said to another. “You better study the history of cabbage,” she told the third Eric. “The Ultimate Test is coming.”
The third Eric, naturally, was Eric Ovens. He thought he knew all about the history of cabbage, and felt bad when he saw his homework grade. Then he realized that Mrs. Jewls had given him Eric Bacon’s paper by mistake.
It turned out Eric Bacon had Eric Fry’s homework, and Eric Fry had his.
They switched papers.
Mrs. Jewls moved on. “Nice job, Deedee, although your paper smelled somewhat strange.”
She stopped at Jason’s desk and shook her head. “I was very disappointed, Jason.”
“Sorry,” Jason muttered. He could barely hold his head up. “I was up all night reading.”
“He’ll never finish his book, Mrs. Jewls,” said Allison.
Suddenly, the classroom door swung open and banged against the wall. Everyone turned to see Mr. Kidswatter.
“Good morning, children,” he said.
They stared at him. He had never been inside their classroom before.
Mr. Kidswatter loudly cleared his throat. “I said, ‘Good morning, children . . .’”
Mrs. Jewls hurried to the front of the room. She waved her hands like an orchestra conductor.
“Good morning, Mr. Kidswatter,” the children said in unison.
The principal smiled. “What’s all this?” he asked, pointing to the twenty-seven plastic containers stacked against the wall.
“Toenails,” said Paul.
“Also fingernails,” added Leslie so the principal wouldn’t think the class was weird.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re doing important work here,” said Mr. Kidswatter.
“Would you like to donate a toenail, or maybe a fingernail?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
Mr. Kidswatter curled his fingers as he examined his nails. “No, I’m still using mine. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for a student to bang the gong on Friday. I figured I’d start at the top, and work my way down, until I found someone willing to—”
Every arm shot up in the air. Calls of “Pick me” and “Ooh, ooh” could be heard from around the room.
“Oh,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “I guess it won’t take as long as I thought.”
“Me, me,” begged Bebe, stretching her arm high.
“No, me, me!” urged Deedee.
It was impossible to know where Mr. Kidswatter was looking. He wore mirrored sunglasses, even indoors.
Joy had both hands raised, doubling her chances of being picked. “You’re the best principal ever!!!” she called out.
Mr. Kidswatter’s head turned. “YOU!!!” he boomed, pointing his finger.
Everybody groaned, except for the one person he had chosen.
“Me?” Stephen asked meekly.
“You?” asked Mr. Kidswatter, sounding somewhat surprised. “Yes, you!” he declared. “I chose you, didn’t I? And I don’t make mistakes!”
He strode toward Stephen, then placed his big hands on both sides of Stephen’s desk and leaned over. “Be in my office on Friday, at two minutes before three o’clock!” he ordered. “You will get one, and only one, swing of the mallet, so you better not miss! You must hit the very center of the gong, at exactly three o’clock. Not a second early! Not a second late!! There are no second chances!!!”
Stephen’s right leg was shaking.
The principal straightened up and headed toward the door. “Good-bye, children,” he said.
He stopped.
He waited.
He folded his arms across his chest.
Mrs. Jewls waved her arms like an orchestra conductor.
“Good-bye, Mr. Kidswatter,” everyone said together.
As soon as the principal was gone, everyone crowded around Stephen’s desk.
“You are so lucky!” said Jason.
“This is the best thing that has ever happened to anyone in our class!” said Jenny.
“You better not blow it!” said Joy. “Or else no kid will ever get to ring the gong again!”
“Can you even lift the mallet?” asked Terrence.
Stephen didn’t say anything. He hadn’t heard a word they said.
It was as if the moment Mr. Kidswatter had said, “YOU!!!” someone had banged a gong inside Stephen’s head.
GONNN-nnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNNGGGG!!!
18
The Mirror
Dr. Pickle kept two things on his desk. One was a bust of Sigmund Freud.
A bust is a statue of someone’s head, neck, and shoulders. Sigmund Freud was the most famous psychologist ever. He was Dr. Pickle’s hero.
Dr. Freud also had a beard.
The second thing on Dr. Pickle’s desk was a handheld mirror. Dr. Pickle checked his beard at least five times per day, to make sure it was trimmed just right.
Now, however, that was the least of his worries. He looked at his face in the mirror. His cheek was puffed out. His tongue was sticking out. One eye was closed. One eyebrow was raised.
He looked like a big doofus!
He gently swung his pickle stone between his face and the mirror.
“I am getting sleepy,” he said to himself. “By the count of five, I will fall asleep. One . . . two . . . thruppledub.” His head plopped down on his desk.
This would normally be the time when Dr. Pickle would tell his patient what she was supposed to do when she woke up. But he was his own patient. And both patient and doctor were sleeping.
Sometime later, a car horn blared. It sounded like there was an angry driver right behind him.
Dr. Pickle woke up. He had no idea how long he’d been sleeping. It took him a moment to remember who he was, where he was, and why he had tried to hypnotize himself.
He picked up the mirror and checked his face. No change.
“Now what am I going to do?” he asked.
That was strange.
He had felt his mouth move when he spoke, but the mouth in the mirror didn’t move.
He brought his hands to his face. He could see his hands touching the face in the mirror too.