Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger (8 page)

BOOK: Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger
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Chapter 12

Nose

Mr. Gorf locked the door. “I don’t want any more interruptions,” he said.

Very quietly, Leslie slipped a piece of paper out of her desk. Then she felt around for a pencil.

Mr. Gorf returned to the teacher’s desk. He opened the top drawer and took out the class list. It had the names of all the children in the class, their parents’ names, and their parents’ home and work phone numbers.

“Let’s play a game!” he said, speaking in his own, normal, French-donkey-with-a-sore-throat voice. “The name of the game is Who Am I Now?”

Leslie found a pencil. She held the piece of paper on her lap, where Mr. Gorf couldn’t see it, and wrote HELP in big letters. She had to get it to Louis, the yard teacher.

Mr. Gorf touched the tip of his nose. “Who am I now?” he asked.

It was a girl’s voice, soft and warm, with just a little bit of a giggle in it.

Everyone looked at Rondi.

“Rondi,” said Mr. Gorf. He opened his briefcase and removed a portable phone. He dialed Rondi’s home number.

“Hello, Mommy,” Mr. Gorf said into the phone, using Rondi’s voice. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just called to say I hate you! You’re the worst mommy in the whole world. You’re ugly and you smell bad! It’s not fair! Out of all the mommies in the world, I got stuck with you!”

He hung up the phone.

Rondi sat crying in her chair.

Mr. Gorf touched his nose. “Isn’t this a good game?” he asked, sounding very much like a sick French donkey. “Rondi is crying. And at home, her mother is crying too.” He laughed. “Too bad you won’t ever be able to tell her you’re sorry, Rondi.”

Leslie carefully folded the piece of paper into a paper airplane. There was one open window, next to Sharie’s desk.

Mr. Gorf touched his nose. “Who am I now?” he asked.

Everyone tried not to look at Joe.

Mr. Gorf called Joe’s mother at work. “Hello, Mommy,” he said. “I hate you! I wish you’d go away forever! Then maybe Daddy will marry somebody good this time.”

Leslie knew she’d only have one chance. It would take a perfect throw. She tossed the paper airplane toward the window.

Mr. Gorf saw it. “Hey!” he shouted.

The airplane sailed closer … closer … but then at the last second it made a sudden turn, hit the wall, and landed on the floor.

Mr. Gorf laughed. He picked up the airplane and unfolded it. “Help,” he sneered. “No one can help you now! You took my mommy away from me. And I’m going to take your mommies away from you!”

He touched his nose.

“Who am I now?” he asked.

It was Leslie’s voice.

He started to dial her home phone number but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Oh, Mr. Gorf!” sang Miss Mush.

“Yes,” said Mr. Gorf, still in Leslie’s voice. He touched his nose and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes?” This time he sounded like a donkey with tonsillitis. He touched his nose again. “Yes?” he asked in the pleasant voice he took from the Scottish gentleman.

“It’s me again,” said Miss Mush. Miss Mush’s voice was like two boots sloshing through mud. “I baked you a pie, Mr. Gorf. To welcome you to Wayside School.”

Mr. Gorf sighed. “You are very kind, Miss Mush,” he said. “But we are all quite busy at the moment. Perhaps another—”

“It’s best to eat it while it’s still warm,” said Miss Mush. “You probably don’t get fresh pies very often. Being a bachelor and all.”

“I really hate to disturb the class,” said Mr. Gorf. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll just come outside a moment, and you can hand it to me.”

He glared at the class, daring them to move. Then he opened the door.

“I hope you like pepper pie,” said Miss Mush. She smashed it in his face.

Mr. Gorf turned around. His face was covered with a thick pepper cream. He sneezed.

Calvin laughed.

“Hey, my voice is back!” said Calvin. “Wait a second. This isn’t my voice. I sound like Bebe!”

Mr. Gorf sneezed again.

“I can talk!” shouted Jenny. “But who am I?”

Mr. Gorf sneezed.

“You’re Maurecia!” said Jason. Jason sounded like the gentleman from Scotland.

Mr. Gorf kept sneezing.

“Who might I be, sonny?” Paul cackled. He sounded like somebody’s grandmother.

Todd barked.

“AAAACHOOOO!!!!!!”

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Mr. Gorf sneezed so hard his nose flew off his face. He screamed like a donkey, then ran noseless out of the room.

“Oh, gross!” said Jason. “Now I sound like Allison.”

Bebe said something in Italian.

“Nobody panic,” said Miss Mush. “Your voices are bouncing around, trying to find where they belong. It might take a while, but soon you will be back to normal.”

“How do you know?” asked Leslie, although she sounded like Paul. “And how’d you know to smash a pepper pie in Mr. Gorf’s face?”

“I wasn’t exactly sure,” explained Miss Mush. “But when I came up the first time, I heard Kathy say ‘Have a nice day.’ So, either Kathy had decided to be nice to me, or Mr. Gorf was a mean teacher who sucked children’s voices up his nose.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t think Kathy would be nice.”

“Maybe if you learned to brush your teeth,” muttered Kathy.

Mr. Gorf’s nose lay on the floor. Miss Mush picked it up and put it in her apron pocket. “It will go good in spaghetti sauce,” she said.

Soon all the children had their real voices back. Rondi and Joe called their mothers on Mr. Gorf’s portable phone and told them they loved them.

While far away, in a small village in Scotland, a man who hadn’t spoken for twenty years turned to his wife and said, “Top of the morning to you, Tilly.”

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Chapter 13

The New Teacher

The new teacher entered the classroom carrying a big blue notebook stuffed with papers. She had white hair and wore glasses. She was a lot older than anyone else in the class.

She took a big breath. “My, it’s tiring walking up all those stairs, isn’t it?” she said.

Nobody said anything. They just stared at her.

She set her notebook on the teacher’s desk. “My name is Mrs. Drazil,” she said. “And I’m not from Brazil.” She smiled at her little joke.

Nobody else smiled. After Mrs. and Mr. Gorf, they didn’t trust teachers.

Drazil
, thought Deedee.
Where have I heard that name before?

“Where are you from?” asked Leslie.

“Actually, I was born not too far from here,” said Mrs. Drazil.

“Then why’d you say you came from Brazil?” asked Benjamin.

“No, I said I wasn’t from Brazil,” said Mrs. Drazil.

“Have you ever been to Brazil?” asked Eric Fry.

“No,” explained Mrs. Drazil. “It was just a little joke. Brazil rhymes with Drazil. I thought it might help you remember my name.”

Terrence laughed. “Drazil — Brazil!” he shouted. “That’s funny!”

Several other kids laughed too.

But not Deedee. She had heard of Mrs. Drazil somewhere. She was sure of it. And whatever she had heard, she was sure it wasn’t good.

“What’s a Brazil?” asked Eric Ovens.

“Brazil is the largest country in South America,” said Mrs. Drazil.

“Oh,” said Eric Ovens. “I thought it was one of those things that, you know, women wear, you know, on their bosom.”

Several kids laughed.

“No, that’s a brassiere,” said Mrs. Drazil.

There was more laughter.

Stephen was shocked. “She said ‘brassiere’!” he whispered. “Right in class!”

“I know, I heard her!” said Jason.

But Deedee still didn’t trust her, even if she did say “brassiere” right out loud.

There was a television show that Deedee liked to watch. It was about real criminals. At the end of the show, they always asked the viewers to call the police if they knew where any of the criminals were.

Deedee wondered if she had seen Mrs. Drazil on that show.

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“Does anybody have any questions they’d like to ask me?” asked Mrs. Drazil.

Ron raised his hand.

Mrs. Drazil pointed to him.

“How old are you?” asked Ron.

Dana gasped. “You’re not supposed to ask someone
that
!” she said.

“Especially someone as old as Mrs. Drazil!” said Mac.

Mrs. Drazil smiled. “I don’t mind,” she said.

“I’m sixty-six years old. You can ask me anything you want.”

“Anything?”
asked Joy.

“I’m a teacher,” said Mrs. Drazil. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Paul raised his hand. “How much do you weigh?” he asked.

“One hundred and twenty-four pounds,” said Mrs. Drazil.

“How much money do you make?” asked Eric Bacon.

“I’m a substitute teacher,” explained Mrs. Drazil. “So I only make money on days that I teach. Then I make fifty-one dollars and eighteen cents a day.”

“What a rip-off!” said Jenny. “You should make at least two hundred!”

“That would be nice,” said Mrs. Drazil. “But I’m a teacher because I love to teach. I love to see young children learn.”

Joy raised her hand. “How many men have you kissed in your whole life?”

Mrs. Drazil thought a moment as she appeared to be counting on her fingers. “Thirty-one,” she said.

Everyone gasped.

Deedee raised her hand.

Mrs. Drazil smiled at her. “Yes, the girl in the pretty flowered T-shirt.”

“Have you ever been in jail?” asked Deedee.

“No,” said Mrs. Drazil.

“Are the police after you?”

“No,” said Mrs. Drazil.

Deedee still didn’t trust her.

“Okay,” said Mrs. Drazil. “Before we get started I want to say one more thing. I enjoy teaching so much that sometimes I get a little carried away. I talk too much. So if I start to get boring, will somebody please raise your hand and tell me.”

“For real?” asked Todd. “You want us to tell you to stop talking?”

“And we won’t get in trouble?” asked Bebe.

“No, of course not,” said Mrs. Drazil. “You’ll be helping me and the rest of your class. You’re not going to learn anything if you’re bored.”

“Cool!” said Terrence.

“Oh, I suppose when I first started teaching, I used to be a little more strict,” said Mrs. Drazil. “I even worried about things like whether my students had clean fingernails or if their shirts were tucked in.” She laughed. “But times have changed. I’ve changed. Besides, the kids were a lot worse back then. At least
some
of them.”

For just a second her sweet face turned sour as she looked at her notebook on her desk.

Then she smiled again. “I believe teaching requires mutual cooperation. I will cooperate with you, and you need to cooperate with me. If we work together, we will have a very enjoyable learning experience.”

Her face turned sour again. “But if you cross me, you will be very, very sorry.” She ran her fingers over her blue notebook. “Oh, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but
someday I will get you
! You can run, but you can’t hide.”

She smiled. “Okay, let’s get started.”

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BOOK: Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger
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