فصل سی ام

Chapter 30

Bradley remained in his seat after everyone else had gone out to recess. He walked to Mrs. Ebbel’s desk.

She was sorting papers.

“Mrs. Ebbel,” he said timidly. “May I use the hall pass? I have to see the counselor.” She looked up.

“Please.”

Normally Mrs. Ebbel would never allow Bradley Chalkers loose in the halls, but something about the way he asked must have changed her mind. “All right, Bradley,” she said, then caught herself. “But if you’re bad, you’ll never be allowed in the halls of this school again!” “Thank you.”

He took the hall pass off the hook behind her desk and headed out the door.

“You’re welcome,” Mrs. Ebbel said to herself.

He knocked on the door to Carla’s office.

“How nice to see you today, Bradley,” she greeted him. “I appreciate your coming to see me.” He shook her hand, then they sat around the round table. She was wearing the shirt with the squiggles on it. It was the one she wore the first time he saw her. He liked it, but not as much as the one with the mice.

“I did my homework last night,” he said.

Carla beamed. “I’m so proud of—”

“I ripped it up.”

“What?”

“I ripped it up. I brought it to school, and I was just about to put it on Mrs. Ebbel’s desk, but then I ripped it up.” “Why did—?” Carla started to ask.

“Why did I rip it up?” he asked her first.

“I don’t know, why did you?”

He shrugged.

She shrugged.

They both giggled.

“I was afraid you’d be mad,” Bradley said when he stopped giggling.

Carla shook her head. “You did your homework, that’s the important thing. I’m so very proud of you, Bradley Chalkers.” “I’m going to do all my homework, from now on,” he promised.

“That’s wonderful!”

“But what if I keep ripping it up?” he asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I wanted to rip it up, today.” “The main thing is that you did it. And you learned some things by doing it, didn’t you?” “What ‘of’ means,” said Bradley.

“What ‘of’ means?” Carla repeated.

“Times,” said Bradley.

She stared at him, baffled. “Oh, right!” she said, as it all suddenly connected for her. “Okay, so even though you ripped up your homework, you still remember what you learned. You didn’t rip up your memory. And when Mrs. Ebbel gives the next arithmetic test, you’ll know how to answer the questions.” “If they don’t change the rules,” said Bradley.

“What rules?”

“Like, what if they decide to make of mean subtraction?” “They won’t change the rules,” Carla assured him, “whoever they are.” “But what if I rip up my test, too?” he asked.

Carla looked at him as if he was being silly. “Has Mrs. Ebbel given you any homework for tomorrow?” she asked.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Okay, for Monday?”

“No, we never have homework over the weekend.” He spoke like an expert, like he’d been doing homework for years. “But we have a book report due next week. Only …” “Only what?”

“I don’t have a book. And Mrs. Wilcott won’t let me check out any from the library.” “Well, let’s see,” said Carla. “Do you think you might know somebody else who might let you borrow a book? Think hard now.” Bradley looked around at all the books in her office. “May I borrow one of yours?” he asked. “Please. I won’t scribble in it.” Carla walked around the table, then picked out a book from a stack on top of one of her bookcases. “It’s my favorite,” she said as she gave it to Bradley.

He read the title and laughed. My Parents Didn’t Steal an Elephant, by Uriah C. Lasso.

He opened to page one and read the first sentence.

I hate tomato juice.

He thought that was a funny sentence to start a book. He continued reading.

Every morning, Aunt Ruth gives me a glass of tomato juice, and every morning I tell her I hate it. “Fine, Dumpling,” she always says, “don’t drink it.” She calls me Dumpling. Uncle Boris calls me Corn Flake. They’re crazy. One of these days I’m afraid they’re going to try to eat me.

He glanced up at Carla, then returned to the book.

My parents are in jail. They got arrested for stealing an elephant from the circus. Only they didn’t do it. If they stole an elephant I’d know about it, wouldn’t I? I mean, if your parents stole an elephant, don’t you think you’d know about it?

I think the elephant just ran away. Her master was always mean to her. He whipped her and made her do stupid tricks. My parents used to complain about that a lot. That’s why everybody thinks they stole her.

So, anyway, that’s why I have to live with my crazy Aunt Ruth and Uncle Boris. If you ask me, they belong in the circus. They’re crazy!

Uncle Boris always smokes a cigar. It just hangs out of the corner of his mouth. Whenever he kisses my aunt, he swings the cigar out of the way with his tongue, and kisses her out of the side of his mouth.

I bet you think Aunt Ruth doesn’t like it when he kisses her that way. Wrong. She always laughs when he does it. Sometimes she smokes a cigar, too. I told you they were crazy.

Look! He even smokes his cigar while he’s drinking tomato juice.

The bell rang. Bradley was amazed by how quickly the time had passed. “Do you want to have lunch together again?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m having lunch with the president of the school board,” said Carla. “I’d much rather eat lunch with you.” He didn’t mind too much. At least he had her book to read.

They shook hands, then he walked back to class. He placed the hall pass back on the hook and took his seat.

He knew he’d write a good book report because he had such a good book to read. I just hope I don’t rip it up.