Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger Page 3

  A small celebration.

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  Their artwork was hung

  By the blackboards with pride:

  Snowmen, and mooses,

  And a joyful sleigh ride.

  They ate homemade cookies,

  (Red and green ones, of course.)

  When Kathy declared,

  “I don’t believe in Santa Claus!”

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  She just opened her mouth,

  And said what she said.

  “Santa Claus isn’t real,

  And besides that, he’s dead!

  “So you bet I will pout,

  And you bet I will cry.

  “You bet I will shout,

  I’m telling you why… .”

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  Stephen covered his ears. “No, you’re wrong!” he shouted. “It’s not true. There is a Santa Claus. I know there is!”

  “Ho, ho, ho,” laughed Kathy.

  “Kathy is just saying that because she never gets any presents,” said Jason.

  “All she ever gets is a lump of coal!” said Rondi.

  “Wrong!” said Kathy. “I get lots of presents. My parents buy them for me. They have lots of money. They buy me anything I want.”

  She bit off the head of a reindeer cookie. “The only thing that matters is how rich your parents are. If they have lots of money, then you’ll get lots of good presents. If they’re poor, then you’ll just get a few crummy presents.”

  Everyone tried to argue with her, but Kathy just asked them all the old questions, like “How does a fat man fit down a skinny chimney?” or “How could he visit everyone’s house in the whole world in one night?”

  And of course nobody knew the answers. Nobody ever has.

  “Only Santa knows the answers to those questions,” said Rondi.

  “Don’t you even like Christmas?” asked Stephen.

  “Sure,” said Kathy.

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  “I get lots of presents,

  And I don’t have to work.”

  Then she stuck out her tongue

  and called Stephen a jerk.

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  Poor Stephen sputtered

  As his face turned quite blue,

  “If you don’t believe in Santa,

  He won’t believe in you!”

  But Kathy just yelped.

  “You know that it’s true!

  Do you still believe in the Easter bunny,

  The tooth fairy, and Miss Zarves too?”

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  “Let’s ask Mrs. Jewls!” said Maurecia.

  “She’s a teacher who’s wise.

  Let’s ask Mrs. Jewls.

  She never lies!”

  The children crowded round

  Their wise teacher’s desk

  And asked her the question

  Never found on a test.

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  “Is there a Santa?

  You’re a teacher with smarts!

  Is Santa Claus real?”

  They asked with pure hearts.

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  And oh, Mrs. Jewls,

  That teacher so wise,

  Looked at their faces

  And bright, eager eyes.

  She had to say something.

  It was her job to reply.

  “Tell them,” yelped Kathy.

  “That reindeer can’t fly!”

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  Outside the window

  Snowflakes were falling… .

  Inside the window

  Mrs. Jewls was stalling… .

  “Are our parents all liars?”

  “Is it all just a trick

  To make us be good

  For fear of St. Nick?”

  “Tell us the truth;

  Don’t try to fake it.

  Is there a Santa?

  Let us know; we can take it.”

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  Mrs. Jewls cleared her throat,

  Then she cleared it again.

  She put down her pencil.

  She picked up her pen.

  “Hey, look!” shouted Leslie.

  “Look there! Who’s that?

  Someone is coming in

  Through the goozack!”

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  Sure enough, the door opened.

  It had to open quite wide!

  As a strange-looking stranger

  Stepped sideways inside.

  He wore a red suit

  And had a white, fluffy beard.

  And even for Wayside

  He looked pretty weird!

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  His fat belly shook

  Like a bowl full of Jell-O.

  There was no doubt about it.

  They knew that fellow!

  It was Louis, the yard teacher.

  “What are you doing in that stupid suit, Louis?” asked Sharie. “Aren’t you hot?”

  “Why are you wearing a fake beard?” asked Todd.

  “Is that a pillow under your jacket?” asked Jason.

  Kathy was delighted. “See!” she said. “That proves there’s no Santa Claus! If there was, Louis wouldn’t have to dress up like a fool and pretend to be him.”

  “I’m not Louis,” said Louis. “I’m Santa Claus. Ho! Ho—”

  “You’re lying to us, Louis,” said John. “Everyone is always lying to us. Kathy’s right. Christmas is nothing but a dirty, stinking lie!”

  “I was just trying to bring a little holiday cheer,” said Louis.

  “Go home, Jerome,” said Terrence.

  “Now, that’s no way to talk to Louis,” said Mrs. Jewls. “Louis is one of Santa’s special helpers.”

  “Really, Louis?” asked Deedee.

  Louis looked at Mrs. Jewls. “That’s right,” he said.

  The children were all very impressed.

  “Have you ever met him?” demanded Kathy.

  “Well, no, not exactly,” Louis admitted.

  “See!” said Kathy. “It’s just another lie.”

  “You don’t have to meet Santa to be one of his special helpers,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “Then how do you know what he wants you to do?” asked John.

  “That’s easy,” said Mrs. Jewls. “You just have to be nice to other people. Whenever you give someone a present or sing a holiday song, you’re helping Santa Claus. To me, that’s what Christmas is all about. Helping Santa Claus!”

  “Can I be one of his helpers?” asked Dameon.

  “You bet,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “Hey, everybody,” shouted Dameon. “I’m one of Santa’s helpers!”

  “Me too,” said Allison.

  “There must be a Santa Claus!” cheered Stephen. “Because it feels so good to help him.”

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  So the children all helped Santa,

  In every way they could,

  By singing songs and giving gifts

  And just by being good.

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  “But there is no Santa Claus!”

  Kathy continued to yelp.

  “Well, if that’s the case,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “He must really need our help.”

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  Chapter 9

  Something Different about Mrs. Jewls

  The children returned from Christmas vacation. On each desk were two knitting needles and a hunk of yarn.

  “Today we are going to learn how to knit,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  She showed the class how it was done. “See, you stick this needle through her
e, then wrap this around this like this, stick this through this, pull this like this, and then you stick this here. Any questions?”

  Everyone stared at her.

  “Good,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I want everybody to make socks. Okay, get started.”

  Dameon looked at his knitting needles. He didn’t have a clue.

  He looked back at Mrs. Jewls. Now, more than ever, he was sure she was somehow different.

  She was sitting at her desk, knitting and eating Baloneos. Dameon couldn’t remember Mrs. Jewls ever eating a Baloneo before.

  A Baloneo was an Oreo cookie, except instead of the white part, there was a round hunk of baloney.

  Miss Mush invented them.

  “Hey, Mac,” whispered Dameon. “Does Mrs. Jewls seem different to you?”

  “She’s fat,” said Mac.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say,” said Dameon.

  “I didn’t say it to Mrs. Jewls,” said Mac. “I didn’t go, ‘Hey, Mrs. Jewls. You’re fat!’ ”

  Mrs. Jewls cleared her throat as she stood up. She walked around the room. “Very nice, D.J.,” she said. “You’re doing fine, Rondi.”

  She stopped at Joe’s desk.

  “Oh, Joe!” she gushed. “Look, everybody, I want you to see Joe’s sock!” She held it up. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sock you ever saw?”

  It was a great sock. Everybody oohed and aahed.

  Joe was as surprised as anyone. He didn’t know he knew how to make socks. But the boy was born to knit.

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  Mrs. Jewls started to cry. “I love this sock,” she sobbed.

  “Uh-oh,” said Kathy. “I think she’s finally flipped out!”

  “I love you, Kathy,” said Mrs. Jewls. She looked around the room. “I love all of you.”

  She put her hand on Kathy’s desk. “I love this desk,” she said. “I love the blackboard. I love the clock on the wall.”

  There was a ruler on the floor.

  Mrs. Jewls picked it up. “I love this ruler,” she declared.

  “Hey, that’s mine!” said Dana. “But, uh, that’s okay, Mrs. Jewls. You can have it.”

  “I don’t want your ruler, Dana,” said Mrs. Jewls, handing it to her.

  “You want my pair of scissors?” offered Sharie.

  “Don’t give her anything sharp!” warned Kathy.

  Mrs. Jewls wiped away her tears and smiled at the class. “I’m going to miss all of you very much,” she said.

  “Are you going away?” asked Dameon.

  “Yeah, to the loony bin,” whispered Kathy.

  “Are you sick?” asked Eric Ovens.

  “No, I’m not sick,” said Mrs. Jewls. “In fact, I’m better than I’ve ever been.” She beamed. “I’m going to have a baby!”

  Everyone gasped.

  Dameon couldn’t believe it! He was so happy he jumped out of his seat and hugged Mrs. Jewls.

  She was soon surrounded by all her students, even Kathy, wanting to hug her.

  “Today is my last day here,” Mrs. Jewls told her students. “My doctor doesn’t want me walking up and down thirty flights of stairs every day. I wasn’t even supposed to come today, but I just had to say good-bye.”

  “I thought you were getting fat,” said Mac. “But I didn’t want to say anything.”

  “Thank you, Mac,” said Mrs. Jewls. “You are very considerate.”

  “Can I touch your stomach?” asked Stephen.

  Mrs. Jewls laughed. “Sure,” she said.

  The children took turns touching her stomach.

  “What are you going to name your baby?” asked Allison.

  “I don’t know yet,” said Mrs. Jewls. “What do you think?”

  “Well, if she’s a girl,” said Allison, “I think you should name her Rainbow Sunshine.”

  “That’s a nice name,” said Mrs. Jewls. “And if he’s a boy?”

  “Bucket Head,” said Allison. She didn’t like boys.

  “If he’s a boy, you should name him Jet Rocket!” said Joe.

  “Jet Rocket Jewls,” mused Mrs. Jewls. “That has a nice ring to it. And what if she’s a girl?”

  “Cootie Face,” said Joe.

  Mrs. Jewls laughed. “So let me get this straight,” she said. “If he’s a boy, I’ll name him Bucket Head.”

  “Right,” said Allison and Rondi.

  “And if she’s a girl, I’ll name her Cootie Face.”

  “Right,” said Joe and John.

  Dameon laughed. He knew Mrs. Jewls was only joking. At least he hoped she was.

  Terrence placed his palm flat against Mrs. Jewls’s stomach. “Hey,” he exclaimed. “The dude kicked me!”

  Suddenly Dameon felt very sad. He was going to miss her a lot! He wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s unfair!” he shouted. “We finally come back to Wayside School after being gone for so long. And now you’re leaving us!”

  “I have to,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “I know,” whined Dameon. “You have to make sure that you and your baby are healthy. But it still isn’t fair!”

  “I think you’ll like your substitute teacher,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I spoke to him over the vacation. He seems like a very nice man.”

  “A man?” asked Dameon. “Cool!”

  They all thought it was pretty neat to have a man teacher.

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Jewls. “His name is Mr. Gorf.”

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  Chapter 10

  Mr. Gorf

  “Mr. Gorf,” muttered Joy as she walked down the stairs to recess. “Did she say Mr. Gorf?”

  Maurecia nodded.

  Leslie caught up to them. “Did she say Mr. Gorf?”

  “I think so,” said Maurecia.

  “Do you think—?” Leslie asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Maurecia.

  “I hope not,” said Joy.

  Before Mrs. Jewls ever came to Wayside School, the children had a teacher named Mrs. Gorf. She wasn’t very nice.

  Even Myron was worried. And Myron had never gotten in trouble in his whole life.

  “Mr. Gorf might be a good teacher,” said Eric Bacon. “Just because he has the same last name as Mrs. Gorf doesn’t mean he’ll be horrible.”

  “That’s right,” said Eric Ovens. “People with the same name can be different.”

  “I agree,” said Eric Fry.

  “There are probably lots of people named Gorf,” Dameon said hopefully. “I bet if you looked in the phone book, you’d find ten whole pages of Gorfs.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not coming to school tomorrow,” said Joy.

  “Me neither,” Maurecia agreed.

  But the next morning their parents made them all go to school.

  Everyone arrived on time. Nobody dared to be late.

  But there was no teacher.

  Deedee sat down next to Myron. “Is he here?” she whispered.

  “Sh!” whispered Myron. He folded his hands on his desk and stared straight ahead.

  One by one, the children entered the classroom and quietly sat down at their desks.

  They couldn’t take any chances. Mr. Gorf might walk through the door any moment. Or maybe he was already there, hiding in the coat closet, just waiting for someone to do something wrong.

  “I didn’t want to come today,” whispered Calvin. “But my parents made me.”

  “Sh!” said Bebe. “He might hear you.”

  Mr. Kidswatter’s voice came over the P.A. system. “Good morning, boys and girls.”

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  “Good morning, Mr. Kidswatter,” the children all answered together, like good little boys and girls.

  They li
stened attentively to their principal. Then, when Mr. Kidswatter was finished, they took out their arithmetic books and started working.

  After that, they did social studies, reading, and spelling.

  When the recess bell rang, the children put their books neatly in their desks, quietly lined up, and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

  “So how’s your substitute teacher?” asked Louis, out on the playground.

  “Tough!” said Bebe. “I’ve never worked so hard in my life.”

  “I did more work before ten o’clock than most people do in a day,” said Calvin.

  “But he’s very fair,” Myron quickly added, just in case Mr. Gorf was listening. He might have been hiding in the bushes.

  “Yes, he’s nice and fair and a very good teacher,” said Jenny.

  “Very smart too,” said Deedee. “We’re lucky to have him.”

  Louis twisted the end of his mustache between his fingers.

  After recess the children returned to class and worked until lunchtime. At lunch they ate all the food Miss Mush served them. Their manners were perfect.

  Mr. Gorf might have been hiding under the table.

  After lunch they returned to class and practiced their handwriting.

  Myron looked around. All of a sudden he got a terrible urge to do something. Anything!

  “Ugga bugga,” he said.

  Jenny put her finger to her lips.

  “Biff. Boff. Boof!” said Myron, a little louder.

  “Sh!” said Jenny.

  Myron stood up. “No!” he shouted. “I don’t have to be quiet!”

  Everyone tried to get Myron to hush up.

  Myron climbed on top of his desk. “Look around, folks! There’s no teacher! We’re doing all this work for nothing!”

  “Get down!” whispered Allison. “Do you want to get us all in trouble?”

  Myron jumped on top of Allison’s desk. “Hi, Allison!” he said. Then he hopped over to Deedee’s desk, then Ron’s, then Maurecia’s.

  “Please, Myron,” said Maurecia.

  “This is fun!” said Myron. He made a great leap and landed on top of the teacher’s desk.

  Mrs. Jewls had always kept a coffee can full of Tootsie Roll Pops on her desk. It was still there.

  “Hey, anyone want a Tootsie Roll Pop?” asked Myron.