“Stop the music!” Mrs. Jewls suddenly shouted, and the room became instantly quiet.
“Stephen, you’re late,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I was so carried away by the music, I didn’t notice the time.”
“Time?” said Stephen.
“Now, Stephen!” said Mrs. Jewls.
He remained frozen in his chair.
Mrs. Jewls asked Jason and Rondi to help.
They moved to either side of Stephen and slowly lifted him to a standing position. “It’s time, buddy,” said Jason.
“Time,” Stephen repeated.
He took one step, then stopped.
“Now the other leg,” said Rondi.
He took another step.
“You can do it, Stephen!” cheered Kathy.
“Bang that gong like no one ever banged it before!” called Joy.
Stephen walked across the room. He stepped out the door. Behind him, he heard the entire class shout together.
“Breathe!”
Stephen took a breath.
22
The Moment
Stephen was worrying his way down the stairs when suddenly he spotted Jenny’s skateboard, right in the middle of a step. He stepped over it.
Well, that was easy.
And just like that, his fears vanished. Not even the Cloud of Doom worried him.
He quickly hurried the rest of the way down. He didn’t want to be late. When he reached the second floor, he could see Louis below, wheeling the gong into place.
“Louis!” he shouted, and then jumped down the final eight steps. “Am I late?”
“You’re right on time,” said the yard teacher.
The gong was gigantic, almost twice as big as Stephen. He had never stood so close to it before. In the center was a small red dot.
The iron mallet hung from a hook. The mallet was longer than his arm, and thicker too.
“Have you been doing your push-downs?” Louis asked.
Stephen nodded. “I’m almost up to two,” he said confidently.
Mr. Kidswatter stepped out of his office. He took one look at Stephen and asked, “Who are you?”
“This is Stephen,” said Louis. “You chose him to bang the gong today?”
“Him? Why would I choose him?”
“Because you’re the best principal ever!!!” said Louis.
“Well, yes, that’s true,” said Mr. Kidswatter.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” said Stephen.
“That’s what worries me,” said the principal.
Louis handed Stephen two cotton balls.
As Stephen was stuffing them in his ears, Louis unhooked the mallet.
He held it out to Stephen.
Stephen wobbled as he took the mallet with both hands. Louis helped him raise it to his shoulder.
Mr. Kidswatter checked his watch, and then started the countdown.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
He had to shout the numbers, so Stephen could hear him through the cotton balls.
“Seven! Six!”
Stephen tightened his grip on the handle.
“Five! Four!”
Stephen groaned loudly as he slowly raised the iron mallet up off his shoulder. It was a good thing he’d been doing all those push-downs.
“Three!”
Stephen staggered, but maintained his balance.
“Two!”
He concentrated on the red dot.
“One!!!”
He swung with all his might . . . and missed!
He didn’t just miss the red dot. He missed the gong.
Louis jumped out of the way as the weight of the mallet pulled Stephen around in a circle.
The second time around, the mallet banged into the gong, right on the dot.
GONNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn . . .
Despite the cotton balls, the sound echoed inside Stephen’s skull, and rattled his bones.
. . . NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNNN—
It traveled up the stairs, all the way to the thirtieth floor.
. . . nnnnnn-NNNNNNG!
“He did it!” shouted Mac.
“Yay, Stephen!” yelled Jenny.
Everyone in Mrs. Jewls’s class whooped and hollered.
Louis kept Stephen from falling over, and took the mallet from him. He hooked it to the frame, and then he and Stephen wheeled the gong into the principal’s office.
Mr. Kidswatter was already there, standing by the door. The principal held out his big hand and said, “Well done, Stephen!”
In the history of Wayside School, Stephen was the only kid to ever shake Mr. Kidswatter’s hand.
In the future, whenever Stephen feels worried, or frustrated, or just plain sad, his mind will take him back to the moment the mallet struck the gong. He will close his eyes and see the red dot. His hands will feel the weight of the iron mallet. He will hear the sound of the gong bouncing back and forth between his ears, and will feel the vibrations in his bones.
And he will smile.
23
Blame It on the Cloud
Mrs. Jewls went from desk to desk as she handed back the arithmetic test. “I’m very disappointed in you, Joy,” she said. “You need to learn your sixes and sevens.”
Joy had gotten an F. That awful letter was written in red ink, and there was a circle around it.
“But it wasn’t my fault, Mrs. Jewls,” Joy complained. “It’s the Cloud of Doom. It made me change my answers!”
“Hmmm,” said Mrs. Jewls as she took another look at Joy’s test. She made two little strokes with her red pen, changing the F to a B.
Joy smiled.
The door swung open and Bebe walked in more than fifteen minutes late.
“Bebe, you need to put your name on the board under DISCIPLINE,” Mrs. Jewls told her.
“Don’t blame me,” said Bebe. “I left my house on time. The Cloud of Doom slowed me down.”
“Oh. Okay, then,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Leslie screamed.
Mrs. Jewls turned.
“Paul pulled my pigtails!” she accused. “Both at the same time!”
“Paul, what do you have to say for yourself?” demanded Mrs. Jewls.
Paul shrugged. “Cloud-a-Doom?” he tried.
Leslie turned around and shook her fist at Paul. “I’ll doom you, you ugly bug sniffer!”
“Leslie, that’s no way to talk!” said Mrs. Jewls.
“It wasn’t me, Mrs. Jewls,” Leslie said sweetly. “The Cloud of Doom made me say it.”
“Well, apologize to Paul for calling him ugly.”
“But I didn’t call him ugly,” said Leslie. “He sniffs ugly bugs.”
Jenny and D.J. laughed. Mrs. Jewls glared at them.
“Cloud-a-Doom,” they said at the same time.
Mrs. Jewls continued to hand back the tests. “You can do better, Terrence,” she said, when she came to him.
Terrence crumpled his test into a ball and brought it to the front of the room, where he dropped it in the trash. He stood there a moment, staring at the trash basket.
“Terrence, return to your seat!” ordered Mrs. Jewls.
He stayed where he was.
“Terrence, do you have a problem?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
“No,” said Terrence. “No problem.” He kicked the basket. It sailed end over end across the classroom, spilling trash along the way.