Jasper John Dooley, Left Behind (2 page)

In the morning Jasper found a big book lying open where he usually ate his cereal. “Is this a new place mat?” he asked.

“It's an atlas,” Dad said. “Mom told me you wanted to know where Alaska was.” He showed Jasper on the map.

“Why is it a different color?”

“This huge orange country is Canada. Alaska is green because it's part of the United States, most of which is down here, under Canada,” Dad said.

“How did Alaska get way up there?”

“That's too complicated to explain right now,” Dad said. “Eat your cereal or you'll get the lates.”

Jasper put his bowl of cereal over Alaska and began to eat. Nan was probably eating her cereal now, too, in one of the cruise ship's ten restaurants. She would be eating all by herself because she didn't know anybody. With Jasper's bowl right on top of her, she wouldn't feel so lonely. But what about all the other people way off by themselves?

“Does everybody in Alaska feel lonely?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“They're so far away.”

“Everybody in Alaska is fine,” Dad said, looking at his watch. “Are you done?”

Jasper finished his cereal and got to school on time.

It was Monday. On Monday after Star of the Week, they wrote stories, which Jasper liked. He liked writing long, long, long stories. If he wrote a long, long, long story, he got to go up to Ms. Tosh's desk and staple the pages together.

Jasper started a story about a little iceberg that got separated from the other icebergs. It was floating all alone in the ocean, feeling very sad. Finally, it found a place to dock, but it was still so far away from its family that it couldn't cheer up. Jasper wasn't even halfway down the page when he started to
pththth
again, so he ripped the story up.

He needed to write something that was the opposite of Nan so he wouldn't think about how she was away for a whole week and wasn't even coming back for Go Fish on Wednesday. The opposite of Nan was all the things she didn't like. She really didn't like mice, or snakes, or loud noises, or wind messing up her hair. He couldn't think of anything to write about wind or loud noises. He'd already written three stories about Hammy, the little brown hamster in the cage at the back of the classroom. He decided to write about a snake.

His story was called “A Long, Long, Long Story by Jasper about a Snake.” The snake in the story was six miles long. Jasper wrote in his biggest printing until the story was six pages. Then he put up his hand and asked to staple his pages together.

“Go ahead,” Ms. Tosh said.

The stapler was one of Jasper's favorite things in the classroom, along with the cozy pillows in the Book Nook that you could hide under until somebody accidentally sat on you. And Hammy the hamster. Every Friday one of the kids got to take Hammy home for the weekend.

Jasper brought his story to Ms. Tosh's desk where there were even more things that he loved: the heart mug filled with spare pencils, the sticker shoebox, the electric pencil sharpener with a window that showed all the shavings inside.

Jasper piled his six pages on the desk. He took the stapler and
ker-chunked
one corner. Since the story was so long, six pages long, he
ker-chunked
the other corner, too
.
He put in four more staples along the side, just in case.
Ker-chunk. Ker-chunk. Ker-chunk. Ker-chunk.
Maybe a staple right in the middle would be good in case a big wind came up and blew through the classroom window and mixed the pages of everybody's stories together. Jasper gathered the pages off the desk and held them flat against his body. With the stapler open, he positioned it right in the middle of all the pages and
ker-chunked
hard.

“Owwwwww!!!!!!!”

All the kids looked up from their writing. Ms. Tosh came running. “Jasper! What have you done?”

All the kids said, “Ms. Tosh! Jasper stapled his story to himself!”

The nurse! He needed the nurse!

“Let's move slowly, Jasper,” Ms. Tosh said. “Careful, careful.”

All the way down the hall Jasper shuffled, his story stapled to his tummy.

“My goodness!” the nurse exclaimed when they got to the sickroom. She didn't wait for an explanation. She put an arm around Jasper and led him over to the cot. He and his story lay down. Ms. Tosh wished him luck and went back to the class.

“What happened, Jasper?” the nurse asked.

“My Nan went away on a cruise. She went on a huge white ship with eight hundred old people. To look at icebergs.”

“I see,” the nurse said.

Jasper sniffed. “After that, I started going
pththth
. Because she left me. So I already had a hole in me. Now I have three!”

“Three?”

“A staple makes two holes,” Jasper told her.

“Of course.”

The nurse gave Jasper a tissue to wipe his eyes. Then she pointed at the ceiling and said, “What's that?” When Jasper looked up, she unstapled him. He didn't feel a thing. She asked him to lift his shirt, and there they were — two tiny holes in his tummy. The
pththth
hole from being left behind didn't show at all.

“Do they hurt?” the nurse asked as she dabbed the holes with a wet cotton ball.

“No,” Jasper told her.

The nurse handed him a box of different kinds and colors of Band-Aids.

“Take your time,” she said, when Jasper couldn't make up his mind which Band-Aid to choose. “I'm just going to walk around the school and see if anybody else has stapled himself.”

After she left, Jasper took all the Band-Aids out of the box and held each one against his tummy. It was as much fun as picking a sticker from the shoebox on Ms. Tosh's desk. In the end, he chose a Band-Aid the color of a green caterpillar.

“Good choice,” the nurse said when she came back.

She put the Band-Aid on Jasper, then asked to read the story that he'd stapled to himself. She laughed and laughed. Jasper felt pleased that he'd written such a funny story. Then the bell rang for recess, and he sat up on the cot.

“Are you sure you're okay?” the nurse asked.

“Yes!”

Jasper thanked her and ran outside and around the school until he found his friend Ori, who was in his class and lived across the alley and one house down. Ori was playing with some other kids. When Jasper lifted his shirt to show off his Band-Aid, everybody crowded around him. Everybody wanted to see. He lifted his shirt again and again. He felt so so so so popular!

Nothing happened the rest of the day except when Jasper hid under the pillows in the Book Nook and Isabel sat on him and screamed. Jasper forgot all about stapling his story to his tummy until after school when he saw Mom waiting. As soon as Jasper saw her, he remembered that Nan was away and that he had three holes in himself. He clutched them and bent over.

“Are you okay?” Mom asked, hugging him. “Does it hurt?”

“I stapled my story to myself!”

“I know. The nurse phoned and told me.”

“Why didn't you come and pick me up?” Jasper asked.

“She said you were fine. She said you were outside playing.”

“I
was
fine,” Jasper said. “But now I'm not. I'm wounded. I don't think I can walk.”

“Here,” Mom said, crouching down. Jasper got on her back.

They lived a block from the school. Out of all the kids in the class, Jasper lived the closest. Even so, out of all the kids, it was always Jasper who got the lates. Ori lived the second closest to the school, across the alley and one house down from Jasper, and he never got the lates. Usually they all walked home together — Jasper and Ori and Mom.

“You should see Jasper's Band-Aid,” Ori told Jasper's mom. “It's green!”

“I can't wait,” Mom said.

“Can Jasper come over?” Ori asked.

“I can't,” Jasper said. “I'm wounded.”

“The thing is,” Ori said, “we have a whole bunch of wood left over from our renovation. My dad said I could build something.”

“With a hammer?” Jasper asked.

“Yes.”

“I didn't know you were renovating,” Mom said.

“What
is
renovating?” Jasper asked.

“It's a new room in the basement,” Ori told him.

“I'll be better tomorrow for sure,” Jasper said, and Ori waved and went off down the alley to his own house.

At home, Jasper flopped down on the sofa and lifted his shirt for Mom. “Wow,” she said. “I've never seen such a nice Band-Aid.”

“I love it,” Jasper told her. “I'm going to wear it for the rest of my life.”

When Dad got home, Jasper told him the whole long story about why he was lying on the sofa. He told him about the iceberg, the stapler and the snake.

“Hold on, Jasper John,” Dad said, and he sat on the sofa and put Jasper's head in his lap. “I'd like to hear more about that snake.”

“Nan doesn't like snakes. This one was six miles long. His tail kept getting hurt. Cars ran over it. People stepped on it. Doors slammed on it.”

“Ouch,” Dad said. “Maybe you can answer this question. It's something I've wondered all my life. Where does the snake's body end and its tail start?”

“That's a good question,” Jasper said.

“It's a hard question,” Dad said.

Jasper thought a little, and then he smiled. “I know the answer.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Jasper said. “A snake's tail actually starts at the end.”

“Jasper John Dooley,” Dad said. “You astound me.”

“It hurt so much when the staple went in,” Jasper said. “I have three holes now.”

“Three holes?”

“Yes. One from Nan leaving. Two from when the staple went in.”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” Dad said.

Because of the three holes, Jasper got to lie on the sofa and watch cartoons until supper. He got to eat supper on the sofa, too.

At bedtime, Mom and Dad said, “We're quite sure you'll feel better in the morning, Jasper.”

“What day is tomorrow?” Jasper asked.

“Tuesday.”

“Good. I just don't want it to be Wednesday.”

“David?” Jasper's mom said to his dad. “Did you tell him about Wednesday?”

“Not a word,” Dad said.

“Wednesday is when I won't be able to play Go Fish for jujubes with Nan because she left me behind,” Jasper said.

“Maybe you can play Go Fish for jujubes with the new baby-sitter,” Dad said.

“David!” Mom said. She punched Dad on the arm.

“Ouch!”

Jasper sat up. “What baby-sitter? What baby-sitter are you talking about? Nan baby-sits me.”

“Her name is Annie,” Mom said.

“Annie? No! Yuck!”

When Jasper woke the next day, it seemed as if Nan had been gone a long time. Jasper didn't know exactly how long. He wondered if she'd seen an iceberg yet. Then he remembered his holes and lifted his pajama top to look at the Band-Aid. Wounded! He lay back down.

Finally, Mom came to his room to find out why Jasper wasn't getting out of bed.

“I think I should stay home from school and work on my lint collection,” Jasper said.

“Why?” Mom asked.

“I had a bad dream last night.”

“Really?” Mom crossed her arms. She crossed her arms whenever she didn't believe what Jasper was saying. But Jasper really had had a scary dream last night after lying awake for a long time thinking so so so scary thoughts about Annie the baby-sitter.

“It was about the baby-sitter! She was so so so so old and instead of eyes — Mom? Instead of eyes?”

“What?”

“She had jujubes! One was green and one was yellow!”

Mom shivered. “That does sound horrible. But Annie isn't old at all. She's sixteen and probably has normal eyes.”

Jasper crossed his arms. He didn't believe her.

“Listen, Jasper,” Mom said. “I got an idea last night. Since you like writing so much, why don't you write down everything that happens to you this week? Write down what happens while Nan is gone. You can read it to her when she gets back. She'll want to know what she's missed.”

“Nothing's happened,” Jasper said.

“What are you talking about?” Mom said. “Yesterday you stapled your story to yourself.”

“That's the other reason I should stay home and work on my lint collection,” Jasper said, putting his hands over his Band-Aid.

“Okay. Fine. But if you stay home, you won't be able to go to Ori's after school and build.”

Jasper got up right away because he really wanted to hammer.

As he was undressing, Jasper stopped to admire his caterpillar-colored Band-Aid again. Then he thought of something. “Mom!” he called. “Mom! What if my Band-Aid comes off while I'm at school? I'll start to
pththth
.”

Mom came over and checked the Band-Aid. “It's on good and tight.”

“I want another one. On top of this one. Just in case.”

Mom went to the cupboard and came back with another Band-Aid, a plain one. “Are you sure you want to cover it? You like it so much.”

“I don't want to,” Jasper said. “I have to.”

So she put a plain Band-Aid over the special one, which was too bad.

Jasper said, “Better make it two.”

That day at school, after calendar and Star of the Week, they played What Am I? Jasper loved What Am I? Ms. Tosh waited for all the kids to settle at their tables, which took a long time, then she picked somebody to come to the front of the room. The person who was picked had to pretend to be something they were learning about. Everybody else had to guess what it was. They could be somebody in a story they were reading. They could be something from science or math. Jasper put up his hand for a turn, but Ms. Tosh picked Ori.

Ori went to the front of the room and curled up into a tiny ball.

“You're a baby!” Leon called.

Ori didn't move. He stayed curled up.

“You're a rock!” Jasper shouted.

Slowly, Ori began to uncurl and rise on his knees. Slowly, he spread his arms. Slowly, he lifted his smile to the ceiling.

“You're a seed!” Zoë screamed. “You're a seed growing into a plant!”

Last week all the kids had planted beans in little pots.

“Yes,” Ori said, and he went back to his table.

“Very good, Ori,” Ms. Tosh said.

Jasper put up his hand to go next. He waved it so hard his arm almost fell off. But the person who guessed right always got the next turn, so Ms. Tosh picked Zoë. As soon as Zoë put her feet together and her arms straight out at her sides, everybody shouted out at the same time. Everybody knew she was the plus sign. Because everybody had shouted out at once, Ms. Tosh didn't know who should take a turn. Jasper waved his hand again. Then he remembered he had a tissue in his pocket, the tissue he had waved to Nan with when she was going up the ramp of the ship. He took it out and fluttered it.

“Jasper,” Ms. Tosh said.

Jasper was going to be Hammy. He was going to wriggle his nose and pretend to run on his wheel making the
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
sound. But as he marched up to the front of the class stuffing the tissue back in his pocket, he remembered Nan going up the ramp of the ship and stopping to blow him kisses. He had caught them in the tissue, but now Nan's kisses had fallen out all over the floor. All day kids would walk on them with their dirty shoes. When a reading group met on the carpet, everybody would plop their bums right down on Nan's kisses.

“Jasper,” Ms. Tosh said. “We're waiting.”

Jasper stuck his hand under his shirt, over his three Band-Aids. Three Band-Aids weren't enough if Nan wasn't coming back by Wednesday to save him from Annie with the jujube eyes.

Through the window, he saw that it was raining. On the way to school, Dad had told Jasper that if it was raining on the cruise, Nan might not be able to see any icebergs. Then why had she even gone away? Why?

“Jasper?”

Jasper got down on his knees and curled up like Ori had, but not so tight.

“He's a seed, too,” Isabel guessed.

“He's an egg.”

“He's a ball.”

“He's moving!”

Slowly, Jasper started to float across the carpet. He floated so slowly it was hard to see that he was moving at all.

“He's a bug!”

“Give us a hint,” somebody asked, but Jasper didn't answer because icebergs can't talk.

“Jasper,” Ms. Tosh said. “Can you give us a hint?”

“I'm white,” Jasper said.

“He's a snowball!”

“He's a dirty tissue in a ball!”

Everybody laughed.

“Another hint!”

“I'm really big,” Jasper said. “I'm really big, and I can't talk.”

That was all Jasper would say. For a long time the kids kept trying to guess what Jasper was, but they were never right. Then Ms. Tosh asked everybody to take out their spelling books and copy the words for the week off the board. After everybody got busy, Ms. Tosh came over to the iceberg and crouched down with her warm hand on the iceberg's back. She whispered in the iceberg's ear, “Jasper? Is everything all right?” She rubbed his back and soon the iceberg didn't feel so cold anymore. He could stand up and go back to his table and spell.