Gooney Bird and All Her Charms (5 page)

Mr. Leroy did not allow any student to have a cell phone in school. But he did have one himself, and he agreed to take a picture of each child standing beside Napoleon. Some of the children tried to make a big toothy smile so that they would resemble the skull, but most looked very serious and solemn in their photographs.

One mother, Mrs. Gooch, wearing a hat and gardenia perfume, came to the school to complain that having a skeleton in the library was disgusting. It was un-American, she said, like something they might do in a foreign school, maybe in Sweden or a place like that. Mr. Leroy told her that the skeleton was being used for educational purposes and that the children were learning valuable information about the human body. Mrs. Gooch said that her Veronica, a third-grader, was entirely too young to learn anything about the human body. Mr. Leroy listened politely to Mrs. Gooch and then agreed that Veronica could stay in her classroom and read a book while her classmates visited Napoleon, if that's what her mother wished. Mrs. Gooch said, “That is precisely what I wish!” in a meaningful voice and then went away, and Mr. Leroy sprayed air freshener in his office to get rid of the scent of her gardenia perfume.

The other children, all but Veronica Gooch, paid very careful attention to Napoleon and what they learned from him. But Mrs. Clancy, the librarian, said that not one single student understood the sign that read
MRS. PIDGEON'S SECOND GRADE FINDS THIS HUMERUS
. She had to explain it again and again, she reported, even to Mr. Leroy.

“Well, we have to educate them,” Gooney Bird said. “Save that sign about the humerus, Tyrone,” she said. “We can throw all the brain ones away because we have new ones for the digestive system.”

Tricia and Beanie carefully removed Napoleon's glasses and earmuffs. Then Ben and Barry lifted the skeleton onto his rolling stand and prepared for his move. Gooney Bird held the door of the library open as the boys maneuvered the stand, with Napoleon, undressed and dangling, out of the library. In the doorway, Barry lifted the skeleton's arm and waved goodbye with it to Mrs. Clancy.

She grinned. “I find that humerus,” she said.

“Where to?” Ben asked as they made their way down the hall.

“Multipurpose room,” Gooney Bird instructed. “Mr. Furillo's waiting.”

Tyrone and Felicia Ann remained in the library, at the computers, working on the next set of signs. Mrs. Pidgeon and the other second-graders all accompanied Napoleon on his journey past the classroom doors.

“I have his digestion clothes,” Chelsea announced. She held up something neatly folded.

Mr. Furillo held the door for them as they wheeled the stand inside. The large room was neatly swept as it was each day after lunch. The lunch ladies had gone home, and the kitchen area was tidy and clean. The trays were stacked.

“I did what you asked, Gooney Bird,” the custodian told her. “Left one table out, and one chair. Over here in the corner.”

Bruno, who had been sleeping, got up and ambled to the corner with them. When they got to the table and chair, Ben and Barry carefully unhooked Napoleon, lifted him from the stand, and sat him in the chair. It was easier this time than it had been in the library because they knew now just how his hip and knee joints worked.

The lunch chair had no arms, but when they pushed it in under the table, Napoleon's arms rested on the table and he looked quite comfortable. Gooney Bird went to the kitchen area and came back with a plate, fork, and napkin.

Chelsea began to dress Napoleon in his digestion clothes. First she put on his plaid bow tie. It was already tied, and snapped neatly around the skeleton's neck.

“It's my dad's,” Chelsea explained. “My dad said that if Napoleon was going out for dinner, he should be dressed up and wearing a tie.”

The children nodded. They all agreed. And with the bow tie at the base of his neck, below his chin, Napoleon did look quite formal.

“Now this,” Chelsea said, and she unfolded a large paper bib. Across the bottom of the bib were the words
CAP'N BILL'S SEAFOOD SHACK
and a cartoon picture of a lobster.

“Don't cover up his bow tie!” Tricia said.

“I won't.” Chelsea tied the bib onto Napoleon and arranged it carefully so that the bow tie appeared above it.

Gooney Bird placed a plate on the table in front of Napoleon and gently arranged his hands on either side. She put a fork between his right thumb and fingers. Then she spread the paper napkin across his lap.

“He needs something to drink,” Ben said.

“I've got it,” Mrs. Pidgeon said. She reached into her large purse and brought out a stemmed glass. She placed the glass on the table near Napoleon's right hand.

“I thought he should have a nice glass of wine with his dinner,” she explained.

“Especially since he's wearing a bow tie. It's a pretty fancy occasion for him.”

“Yeah, and he's old enough for wine,” Malcolm said. “I think he's probably like a hundred.”

“Maybe a hundred and ten,” Nicholas said.

They all stood back and admired the scene. Bruno went to the table and sniffed.

“Oh, no!” Keiko said in an alarmed voice.

“What? There aren't any crumbs because there's no real food,” Beanie reassured her.

“But Napoleon is—” Keiko hesitated. “I don't want to say it in front of Bruno,” she whispered.

“What?”

“He's
bones
,” Keiko said in a very nervous voice.

All of the children looked startled. Even Mrs. Pidgeon cringed a little. “Oh dear,” she said. “Mr. Furillo? What do you think?”

“Nah,” Mr. Furillo reassured them. “I wouldn't trust him if you put real food on that dish. Like pizza, or a burger. If you turned your back he'd grab it. Remember that time a first-grader dropped his hot dog?”

“Jason. He's that kid with curly hair. I remember that. Bruno ate it in one gulp and Jason cried,” Malcolm said. The other children nodded. They all remembered it. Jason had cried
loudly
.

“But look at him. He sniffed around, but nothing smelled good to him. He'll be okay. I'll keep an eye on him,” Mr. Furillo said.

“I guess Bruno didn't find that humerus!” Gooney Bird said.

“Huh?” Mr. Furillo looked puzzled.

“Nothing. It's just a joke.”

“Here come the signs!” Mrs. Pidgeon announced. Tyrone and Felicia Ann appeared with Mrs. Clancy, who had brought her tape dispenser.

The second grade went to work. In a very short time, all of the signs were taped neatly in place.

On the door to the multipurpose room, one read:

 

COME SEE NAPOLEON

DIGEST HIS DINNER!

 

On one side of the table where Napoleon was sitting, a sign read:

 

WHEN NAPOLEON CHEWS,

HIS FOOD GETS MIXED WITH SALIVA.

IT TURNS INTO MOOSH SO HE CAN SWALLOW IT.

 

“Once I gave one of my triplets a chicken nugget but he didn't know how to chew it, and he choked,” Malcolm said. “So my mom grabbed him and turned him upside down and thumped on his back, and the chicken flew out onto the floor, and he was okay.”

“What did your mom do to
you
?” Chelsea asked.

“Well, she said she felt like turning me upside down and thumping on me, but she didn't.”

“You learned a good lesson,” Mrs. Pidgeon said. “No more chicken until they're older, right?”

Malcolm nodded. “Only moosh. That's all they eat. Plus Cheerios.”

The second sign read:

 

THE MOOSHED FOOD GOES

DOWN HIS ESOPHAGUS . . .

 

They taped that one to the other side of the table, and below it they taped the third sign:

 

. . . INTO HIS STOMACH. THERE IT GETS MOOSHED AROUND MORE. AND IT GOES NEXT TO . . . FOLLOW THE ARROW—>

 

“This part is so cool!” Ben said.

“I don't think so,” Keiko replied, making a face. “I don't like this part.”

The arrow on the sign pointed toward the wall of windows. On the floor below the windows, Mr. Furillo had carefully laid a long green garden hose. It extended from the corner of the room all the way along the side wall, halfway to the kitchen entrance. In the spring he would use it to water the shrubbery beside the front steps of the school. But now, in March, he didn't need the hose. It had been rolled up in his utility room until today.

On the windowsill above the hose, they taped the fourth sign:

 

NAPOLEON'S SMALL INTESTINE.

IT IS 20 FEET LONG.

INSIDE HIM, IT IS ALL CURLED UP

LIKE A SNAKE.

 

“I wish we didn't say the snake part,” Keiko murmured.

Gooney Bird tried to make her feel better. “It's just like a garden snake,” she told Keiko. “Harmless. Not a cobra or anything.”

But Keiko still looked nervous. She felt her own abdomen with one hand.

“Look at the next sign!” Tyrone said excitedly. “Look! I made it rhyme!”

Sure enough. The next sign, on the next windowsill, said:

 

NUTRITIOUS STUFF GOES TO HIS BLOOD

AND SWIMS AROUND LIKE IN A FLOOD.

 

“Good rhyming, Tyrone!” Gooney Bird said.

“I could do a whole rap about the human body! I could teach you guys the moves!” Tyrone closed his eyes and moved his feet.
“The brain, and the blood, and the bones, and the
. . .
”

“Not now, Tyrone.” Mrs. Pidgeon put her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe on the playground, later. Let's look at the last sign now. You and Felicia Ann did such a good job!”

The final Digestive System sign was taped to the leg of Napoleon's chair.

 

THE LEFTOVERS GO TO HIS LARGE INTESTINE.

IT IS NOT AS LONG AS THE SMALL.

USELESS STUFF STAYS THERE

UNTIL NAPOLEON GOES TO THE BATHROOM AND GETS RID OF IT.

 

“Or until it ends up in your diapers! And
stinks
!” Malcolm said loudly. “Did I tell you about the time that—”

 

 

“Shhh. Yes, you have told us many times, Malcolm. Your poor mom has to change a lot of diapers.” Mrs. Pidgeon put her hand on Malcolm's shoulder. “You've done a great job, everyone! The other grades are going to learn a lot about the digestive system from Napoleon because of your hard work. Let's go now and let him enjoy his dinner in peace.”

“Bye, Napoleon! Have a nice dinner!” the second-graders called as they filed out of the multipurpose room.

“Keep an eye on Bruno, Mr. Furillo,” Goony Bird reminded the custodian.

“I will! I won't let him find that humerus!” Mr. Furillo chuckled. “I just got it,” he said.

After a week of fine dining it was time for Napoleon to move again. But the second grade was having an argument.

“But it would be very educational!” Barry said.

“No!” wailed Keiko.

“And it would be funny!” Malcolm added.

“No!” said Felicia Ann and Beanie together.

They had been making their plans that day, at lunch in the multipurpose room. Gooney Bird had brought a small plastic container filled with marinated artichoke hearts, which she had passed around for each child to have a taste. “Not bad,” they decided. She had brought, as well, a fresh artichoke, which she showed them. It was a strange-looking vegetable, and some of the children said “Ouch!” when they pricked their fingers on the sharp tips of its leaves.

When they were finished examining the artichoke, they placed it on Napoleon's plate. All of the classes had visited him and read the informational signs. Even Veronica Gooch had come, with her third grade class. But Mrs. Gooch had called the school this time to complain about the wineglass. It was un-American, she said, like something the French might do. So they had taken the wineglass away and given Napoleon a coffee cup instead.

But it was time now, they agreed, for Napoleon to move on. While they cleaned up their lunch remains, the second-graders talked about where he should go. It was then that Malcolm, returning from the bathroom, announced his idea: that Napoleon should be moved to the boys' room.

“We can sit him on the toilet!” Malcolm said excitedly. “In a stall! And when people come into the bathroom, they'll see
skeleton feet
under the door!”

All of the boys loved the idea.

“It's part of digestion, right, Mrs. Pidgeon? After the leftovers are in the large intestine, then—”

“Well, yes,” she replied, “but—”

“It's gross!” Chelsea said loudly.

The other girls all agreed. None of them liked Malcolm's plan. The argument went on and on. It continued back in the classroom.

“I could make a whole rap about it!
Hey, Napoleon, he da man; he be sittin on da . . 
.”