Say Cheese - and Die Screaming! (5 page)

I slammed the locker shut and locked it. Then I waved to Bird and Michael,
who were hurrying into their classroom.

I wanted to tell them I had the camera. And I wanted to tell them about Jon
and the nail in his foot.

But I decided I’d better keep quiet.

Michael and Bird agreed with Shari. They didn’t want me to take the camera
out again. They were too afraid of it.

And, they were probably right.

I slid into class just as the final bell rang. I ducked low in my seat,
trying not to be noticed. I had a long time to wait until Mr. Saur’s class.

Today was the first day ever that I couldn’t wait for Sourball’s class to
begin!

Once again, I didn’t hear a word my other teachers said. In social studies,
Mrs. Wackman was rattling on about bauxite production in South America. I wanted to raise my hand and ask her what bauxite is! I’ve always
wondered about bauxite. I think it’s some kind of South American car. But I’m
not sure.

Her voice faded into the background. My mind was busy practicing my speech to
Mr. Saur.

“Mr. Saur,” I planned to say, “you made a terrible mistake yesterday. But I’m
not going to hold it against you. I know you will be fair and change the grade
on my report as soon as I show you this.”

Whoa.

That’s too stiff, I told myself. That doesn’t sound like me at all. I’ll
never be able to get those words out.

I tried a different approach. “Here’s the evil camera, Mr. Saur. And here’s a
picture it took of a boy I met. A minute later, the picture came true. You asked
me to bring in proof—and here it is.”

That’s better, I decided. It’s straight to the point.

Will he believe me?

He’ll have to, I thought. Photos don’t lie.

He’ll have to change my grade.

I stared at the wall clock over the chalkboard. Why was it moving so slowly?
Why?

Finally, the bell rang. I jumped up, ran out the door, and dove for my
locker. Bird called to me from down the hall. But I pretended I didn’t hear him.

I pulled the camera from its hiding place and slammed the locker door shut. I
tucked it carefully under my arm, protecting it.

I saw Sumo One and Sumo Two across the hall. They were shoving a fifth grader
up against a locker. Making him bounce back like a yo-yo. That’s their hobby.
Making kids bounce.

And guess who is one of their favorite bouncers?

That’s right. Me.

I spun around and hurried the other way. I didn’t feel like bouncing today.
And I didn’t want Brian and Donny to set their eyes on the camera.

I took the long way around to Mr. Saur’s class, jogging the whole way. I held
the camera snugly and practiced my speech.

A group of kids were talking in front of the classroom, blocking the door.
“Make way!” I cried, pushing through them. I wanted to see Mr. Saur before the
bell rang.

I stepped into the room. Blinked against the bright sunlight streaming
through the windows.

I turned and ran breathlessly toward Mr. Saur’s desk.

But I stopped halfway there.

My heart skipped a beat. And I let out a cry of dismay.

“May I help you?” asked the young woman sitting behind Mr. Saur’s desk. “Are
you okay?”

I stared at her with my mouth hanging open to my knees. I didn’t answer her
questions. I gripped the camera tightly in both hands, afraid I might drop it.

“Where—where’s Mr. Saur?” I finally managed to choke out.

“He’s not feeling well,” she replied, studying me. “I’m Ms. Rose. I’m
substituting today.”

“He—he’s not here?” I stammered in a high, shrill voice.

She nodded. “I’ll be teaching the class today. Is there anything I can help
you with?”

I glanced down at the camera. “No,” I muttered unhappily. “No. You can’t help
me.”

The room was never this noisy when Mr. Saur sat behind the desk. Kids were
shouting and laughing. Someone tossed a balled-up piece of paper at me. It
bounced off my shoulder and onto Ms. Rose’s desk. I heard loud laughter from the back of the room.

We always give substitutes a really hard time.

When a teacher doesn’t show up, it’s always time to celebrate. But I didn’t
feel like celebrating today. I was so disappointed.

I started to my seat—then turned back to Ms. Rose. “Can I put this in my
locker?” I asked, holding up the camera. “It will only take a second. My locker
is right out there.” I pointed to the hall.

The final bell rang. She held her hands over her ears. The bell was on the
ceiling right over her desk.

“Okay,” she said when the clanging stopped. “But hurry back. I’m going to be
talking about the subjunctive tense today. And you don’t want to miss that.”

Thrills and chills, huh?

I thanked her and hurried to the door. The long hall stood empty. Everyone
was in class.

My sneakers thudded loudly on the hard floor. My mind was racing. Thinking
about Mr. Saur. And about the camera. I’ll have to leave it in my locker until
he gets back, I decided.

I promised Jon I’d keep it only for one day.

But what choice did I have?

I turned the corner—and bumped into Brian and Donny.

“Hey—” Brian grunted.

“Hey—” Donny greeted.

They say “Hey” a lot. I think it’s their favorite word.

“You guys are late,” I said, trying to hurry past them.

But they blocked my way with their big, wide bodies.

“Sourball isn’t here,” Donny said, grinning. “He’s sick or something. So
we’ve got a substitute.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered.

“So we’re in no hurry,” Brian said. “Why should we hurry for a substitute?”

I tried to slip between them. But they were too quick for me. They squeezed
together, and I bounced back off them.

“We’re going to switch places.” Brian grinned. “I’m going to tell her I’m
Donny. And Donny is going to say he’s me.”

“Good joke,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Very original. Now, can I get by?”

“No way,” Donny said, puffing up his big chest and leaning over me
menacingly.

“You have to pay a toll if you want to pass,” Brian demanded. He stuck out
his big paw for money.

“How much is the toll?” I sighed.

“How much have you got?” Brian shot back.

They both guffawed and slapped high fives. They really think they’re funny.

“I’ve got to get to my locker,” I insisted.

I tried once again to push past them—and Brian grabbed the camera.

“Hey!” I reached for it with both hands. But Brian raised it high over his
head.

“Look—Greg brought his magic camera to school,” he told Donny.

“Oooh—I’m scared!” Donny replied sarcastically. He pretended to shiver and
shake.

“But the camera is bad!” Brian exclaimed, holding it out of my frantic reach.
“It’s cursed, Donny! You remember Greg’s report.”

Donny’s ugly grin grew wider. “You mean the report he got an
F
on?”

They both had another good laugh.

“Let’s check it out,” Brian declared. “Say cheese, Greg.”

He lowered the camera to his eye and aimed it at me.

“No—please!” I pleaded. I made another grab for the camera.

But Donny grabbed me and pinned my arms behind my back. “Go ahead. Snap it,”
he told Brian. “Let’s put a curse on Greg. Snap his picture.”

“No—please!” I begged.

Donny wrapped his huge paws tightly around me and pinned my arms against my
back.

“The camera really
is
cursed!” I protested. “You don’t know what
you’re doing! Stop!”

Brian ignored me, of course. He held the camera to his eye—and raised his
finger over the shutter button.

“Brian—please!” I wailed.

I saw his finger lower over the button.

Then a loud voice called, “What’s going on here, guys?”

Brian cried out and nearly dropped the camera. Donny dropped my arms and
stumbled back against the wall.

“Mr. Grand!” I exclaimed.

He’s the principal of Pitts Landing Middle School. Mr. Grand is young and has
blond wavy hair and a really good tan. He looks more like a surfer than a principal. The girls in our school all have crushes on him.

For once, I was glad to see him.

“Where should you guys be right now?” he asked, glancing up at the clock on
the wall.

“Uh… we’re going to Mr. Saur’s class,” Donny replied, turning bright
red.

“We were just helping Greg with his camera,” Brian added. He handed the
camera back to me.

“That looks like a valuable old camera,” Mr. Grand said to me. “You should be
careful with that, Greg.”

“I’m trying,” I said. “I’m going to lock it in my locker right now.”

I pushed past Sumo One and Sumo Two and hurried down the hall. As I reached
my locker, I heard Mr. Grand scold them: “Get to class, guys. And don’t give
your substitute a hard time—okay?”

“Okay,” Brian promised.

“No problem,” Donny agreed.

I met Shari after school, and we walked home together. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I got an
A
on my math test,” she announced.

“Big surprise. You always get As in math,” I reminded her.

“So? Maybe I like to brag.”

I felt a little strange. Tired. Kind of weak. I stopped about half a block from my house and tugged off my backpack.

“What’s your problem?” Shari demanded. “Why do you keep fiddling with that
backpack?”

“I think someone messed with it,” I said, loosening the straps. “I had it
just right. And now it’s too tight.”

“Why would anyone mess with your backpack?” Shari demanded. She blew a
bubble-gum bubble nearly as big as her head.

I stuck out a finger and popped it.

“Yuck!” she cried out as it stuck all over her face. “Are you impressed? That
was my biggest one ever,” she declared. “Wish I had a picture of it.”

“Don’t say picture,” I grumbled. “Don’t say the words picture or camera.” I
had already told her at lunch about Mr. Saur not showing.

“Where is the camera?” she asked, pulling gum from her hair.

“Locked up safe in my locker,” I said. I turned and saw Michael and Bird
running down the sidewalk toward us.

“Did you tell Michael and Bird I have the camera?” I asked Shari.

She shook her head. “No. They’d be too upset. After all the horrible things
it did last summer, they never want to see that camera again. And neither do I,”
she added, glaring at me.

“Hey—what’s up?” Bird called. He slapped me on the back so hard, I stumbled
off the curb.

Michael laughed. “You guys doing anything?”

“Not much,” I replied, straightening my backpack. I still couldn’t get it
comfortable.

“Get your bikes,” Michael urged. “Come on. It’s a great day to ride around.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed.
Anything
to get my mind off Mr. Saur and that
stupid camera.

“Let’s meet at my house,” Shari suggested. “I have to ask my mom first.”

Michael and Bird jogged toward their houses. Shari and I crossed the street
and headed to our homes, which are side by side.

Mom and Dad were at work. Terry wasn’t home from high school yet. I dropped
the backpack in the front hall. Pulled a box of juice from the refrigerator and
drank it in two long sips from the straw.

I still felt weak. Kind of lifeless. I thought maybe a long bike ride would
help get my energy back.

My jeans felt uncomfortable. A little tight. I ran to my room and pulled on
my pair of really baggy shorts. Mom and Dad always teased me about these shorts.
They say there’s room enough for a friend inside them.

But I like them. I think they’re cool. And they’re really comfortable. I
usually don’t wear them when I ride my bike. They’re so long and baggy, sometimes the cuffs get
caught in the chain.

I hurried outside and found Shari, Michael, and Bird waiting for me on their
bikes. “Let’s go, Greg,” Bird urged. “It’s starting to get cloudy.”

I pulled open the garage door and stepped inside, careful to walk around the
black oil stains on the concrete floor. I took my bike from against the wall and
walked it out onto the driveway.

Then, I did my high-flying circus riding trick. It’s my favorite way of
getting on my bike. I lean on the handlebars and heave myself up in the air.
Then I come flying down on the seat.

Up I went. Pushed my body into the air.

Swung my legs in the air. Dropped onto the seat.

And both tires popped.

I heard the explosion and then a whoosh of air as the tires flattened against
the drive.

“Hey—what’s going on?” I cried.

“Whoa!” Shari cried.

Michael and Bird burst out laughing.

“Nice tires,” Michael said.

“Maybe you should go on a diet!” Bird exclaimed.

“Huh? A diet?” I repeated, swallowing hard. I knew that Bird was only joking.
But his words sent a chill down my back.

The snapshot flashed into my mind. The ugly snapshot from the evil camera.

I saw myself all bloated and huge. Like an enormous saggy water balloon.

I felt my face go hot and knew that I was blushing. I saw my friends staring
at me. I climbed off my bike. “Guess I jumped too hard,” I murmured.

“Maybe you need a tricycle,” Michael cracked.

No one laughed. Michael’s jokes never make any sense.

I squatted down and examined the tires. I ran my hands along the rubber—and
found two big holes. Two blowouts. And they were new tires, too.

I dragged the bike back into the garage. “I’ll take Terry’s old bike,” I told
my friends.

I actually like my brother’s bike better than mine. It’s a twelve-speed, and
mine is only ten. He hardly ever rides it now that he’s got his driver’s
license. But he doesn’t like me riding it.

“Better not sit on it!” Bird suggested. “Maybe you should just walk it!” He
and Michael laughed and slapped each other’s hands.