Miss Small Is off the Wall! (5 page)

Luckily for us, nobody got tagged by Miss Small on the way back to home base. Luckily for us, that is, but not so lucky for Miss Small. She was still lying there on the ground under the tree. So we all ran back to her.

“Are you okay?” we all asked as we
gathered around her.

“My leg,” she moaned, and there was pain all over her face.

That crybaby Emily started crying. So did a few other kids. To be honest, I almost felt like crying myself. But I didn't. Instead I ran to get our school nurse, Mrs. Cooney.

Mrs. Cooney came running out of the school with a first-aid kit.

“Oh, dear!” Mrs. Cooney said when she saw Miss Small lying under the tree. She got down on her hands and knees to examine Miss Small.

“You should put a Band-Aid on her leg and kiss it,” Michael told Mrs. Cooney.
“That's what my mom does when I get hurt.”

“Your mom is weird,” I told Michael.

“She's going to need more than a Band-Aid and a kiss,” Mrs. Cooney told us. “This leg is broken.”

Mrs. Cooney called for an ambulance on her cell phone, and it arrived just a couple of minutes later. Some guys got
out, and they put Miss Small on a stretcher and carried it into the ambulance. We asked them to put their siren on when they drove to the hospital, but they wouldn't. It was still cool anyway, having an ambulance right on the playground.

As soon as we got back to class, we all wrote get-well cards to Miss Small. They
must have worked, because just a few days later, she was back at school. She had a big cast on her leg and crutches to help her walk. And she was smiling.

I thought Fizz Ed would be canceled for a few weeks until Miss Small got better. But the day after Miss Small was back, Miss Daisy told us to line up for Fizz Ed.

When we got to the gym, Miss Small was standing there with her crutches, waiting for us.

“I'm fit as a fiddle!” she said. “Let's have fun!”

Even though she was hobbling around, Miss Small still wanted to play games. We
played some more Ghost in the Graveyard, but nobody was allowed to climb the tree this time. Miss Small also
taught us how to play Red Light Green Light, Red Rover, Spud, London Bridge, Mother May I, and this really cool game called Duck Duck Goose.

I still wish we could have played basketball and football and baseball and sports like that. But those corny games Miss Small taught us were actually kind of fun, I had to admit.

Maybe Fizz Ed wasn't so bad after all.

“Good morning, boys and girls,” Principal Klutz said over the loudspeaker. “Today is Tuesday, and today is special because our own Miss Small is a quarter of a century old! So if you see Miss Small in the hall, be sure to wish her a happy birthday.”

“Wow!” Ryan whispered to me. “A
quarter of a century is a long time.”

After the morning announcements, we have this thing in our class called Show and Share. We have to bring in something from home and tell the class about it.

I brought in an old army helmet that my grandpa wore when he fought in a war a long time ago. It has fake leaves attached to it so Grandpa could hide in the woods and nobody would see him. I put it on my head even though it was too big for me. Then everybody passed the helmet around so they could feel how heavy it was.

“That's very interesting, A.J.,” Miss Daisy said when I was finished. “It's your
turn, Andrea. What do you have to share with us today?”

“That helmet is awesome, A.J.,” Ryan whispered to me while Andrea got up.

“Yeah, let's see Andrea top
that
,” I said.

Andrea lugged a big duffel bag up to the front of the class. She pulled three long sticks out of the bag. On the end of each stick was a thing that looked like a marshmallow, but black. Then she pulled out a lighter and set those marshmallow things on fire!

“My mom signed me up for juggling lessons,” Andrea announced.

Then she threw those flaming sticks up in the air! I don't know how she did it,
but the sticks were flying all over the place. She kept catching them and throwing them back up in the air. If it had been anybody else, I would have thought it was super cool.

Finally Andrea caught all three sticks in one hand, blew them out, and took a bow. Everybody started cheering and clapping. I hate her.

“After I get good,” Andrea said, “I'm going to learn how to juggle while I'm riding a unicycle.”

I hope she rides her unicycle off a cliff.

“Okay, everybody, it's time to line up for Fizz Ed!” Miss Daisy announced.

When we got to the gym, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Miss Small and told her she didn't look half bad for somebody who had lived a quarter of a century.

“Today we're going to do something that's
really
fun!” Miss Small announced.
“Everybody choose a partner. We're going to have a three-legged race!”

“How can we have a three-legged race when we only have two legs?” I asked.

Everybody laughed even though I didn't say anything funny. I turned around to see if Ryan or Michael would be my partner. But Ryan chose Michael, and Michael chose Ryan.

Just about everybody had already chosen a partner. There was only one kid in the class besides me who didn't have a partner.

Andrea Young!

“Looks like we're partners, A.J.,” Andrea said.

“Okay,” I said. “But I'm not inviting you to my birthday party or anything.”

“Don't worry, I'm not inviting you to my birthday party, either.”

“Good.”

Miss Small gave each team a piece of rope. We tied my left ankle to Andrea's right ankle. I had no place to put my left arm except around Andrea's shoulders. It was disgusting, but I had to do it.

“Hey, look!” Ryan said. “A.J. and Andrea are in
love
!”

Everybody laughed.

“Shut up, Ryan,” I said.

“When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

Some friends! My face was all hot, and I would have beat up the two of them if I hadn't been tied to Andrea.

“A.J.,” Andrea whispered, “I know how you can get back at Ryan and Michael.”

“How?”

“Let's
beat
'em!”

“Beat 'em?” I said. “Aren't you the one who said competing is icky?”

“I changed my mind,” she said. “Let's beat 'em! Let's beat 'em bad! That will show 'em!”

“We can't beat 'em,” I told her. “They're the best athletes in second grade. You're a girl.”

“We can
do
it, A.J.!” Andrea said.
“Three-legged races are a lot like clog dancing.”

“Clog dancing?” I asked. “Is that some dance that plumbers do when the sink gets clogged up?”

“No, silly. It's a step dance that you do with your heel keeping time with the music. I go clogging every Thursday after school.”

“I'm not doing any clogging. Clogging is dumb.”

“You want to win, don't you?” Andrea said. “Look, all you have to do is move your leg forward whenever I count to two.”

“All right, all right,” I said.

I didn't like the idea of Andrea Young ordering me around. But what else was I gonna do? Our legs were tied together.

Everybody lined up on the starting line.

“To win a three-legged race, you need cooties,” Miss Small said. “Cooperation. Teamwork. Sportsmanship.”

“Let's stomp 'em into the ground!” Andrea whispered in my ear. “Let's make 'em wish they were never born!”

“On your mark,” Miss Small hollered. “Get set. Go!”

Me and Andrea took off.

“One…two…one…two…” Andrea said, “one…two…one…two…”

Andrea and I went clogging down the field. Some of the kids fell down. We were in first place. Ryan and Michael were right behind us.

“You'd make a great clogger, A.J.!” Andrea shouted.

“Quiet, I'm trying to concentrate!”

“One…two…one…two…”

Me and Andrea were out in front of everyone.

“One…two…one…two…”

Me and Andrea were pulling away from everybody else!

“One…two…one…two…”

Michael and Ryan fell down!

“One…two…one…two…”

Me and Andrea won the race!

“Ha-ha!” I called to Ryan and Michael. “Eat my dust, losers!”

I was so happy that I almost wanted to give Andrea a hug.

Almost.

Recess is the best time of the day because that's when we get to go out on the playground while the teachers do all the boring things grown-ups do when kids aren't around.

Lately Andrea was practicing her juggling during recess. She put on her dumb
show, and kids in the other classes would gather around and watch. Like she was famous or something.

But today Andrea wasn't juggling. She and Emily were just sitting on the monkey bars looking all serious, like the world was about to end. Me and Michael and Ryan couldn't resist going over to bug them.

“What's the matter with you?” I asked Andrea. “Did you set your house on fire while you were juggling?”

“No,” she said, “we're worried about Miss Small.”

“What about her?” asked Ryan.

“We're afraid she might die,” Emily said.

“What!” I said. “You're nuts! All she did was break her leg.”

“Miss Small is a quarter of a century old,” Andrea said. “That's like, ancient. Old ladies aren't supposed to run around and jump up and down and play games all the time. Old people are supposed to sit around talking about the weather and eating and reading the newspaper and complaining about the kids today and telling us to be quiet. Miss Small doesn't do
any
of those things. She's like a big kid. She grew tall, but she never grew up.”

“My dad is a doctor,” said Emily. “He told me that when old people fall down,
they can get hurt really badly. They can even die.”

Wow. I didn't know that.

“If Miss Small dies, it will be our fault,” Andrea said.

For a while nobody said anything. Maybe Andrea was right, for once in her life.

“We've got to do something,” said Emily.

“We should talk to her,” Andrea said. “We need to tell her she has to grow up and act mature like other adults.”

So all of us—me, Michael, Ryan, Andrea, and Emily—went around the school to the gym. We figured that's where Miss Small
would be during recess.

“Shh!” Andrea said as we snuck around the corner. “If Principal Klutz catches us, we could be in big trouble.”

Me and Michael and Ryan got down on our hands and knees and pretended to be undercover agents on a secret police mission. It was cool.

Finally we reached the back door to the gym.

“We may have to pick the lock like they always do in police movies,” Ryan whispered. “Then they run inside and shout, ‘Freeze, dirtbags!'”

“No,” Michael said, “in the movies they kick the door in with their feet and
shout, ‘Freeze, dirtbags!'”

“No, they don't,” I told them. “They use bombs to blow the door off the hinges.
Then
they run inside and shout, ‘Freeze, dirtbags!'”

“Maybe the door isn't even locked,” Emily said.

“The door is
always
locked, dumbhead,” I said. “Why else would they have to blow it off the hinges?”

Andrea put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. And you know what? The door opened!

Me and Michael and Ryan ran inside the gym, just like they do in all the police movies.

“Freeze, dirtbags!” we shouted.

And there, in the gym, was the most amazing sight any of us had ever seen.

All the grown-ups who work in the school were there. Every one of them! And they were going
crazy
!

Mr. Klutz, the principal, was doing the Chicken Dance. Our teacher, Miss Daisy, was playing hopscotch. Mrs. Roopy, our librarian, was hula hooping. Ms. Hannah, our art teacher, was jumping rope. Miss Small was clapping her hands and singing that annoying hillbilly music. All the other teachers were doing the limbo and other equally weird stuff.

They all stopped what they were doing
and stared at me and Michael and Ryan.

“What are
you
doing here, boys?” Miss Small asked.

“Uh…”

I looked at Ryan and Michael. They were doing that whistling thing you do when you want to pretend you didn't do anything wrong. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I had to think fast.

“The question is, what are
you
doing here?” I asked. “Why aren't you all sitting around talking about the weather and eating and drinking coffee and reading the newspaper and doing other grown-up stuff?”

“We're having fun!” Mr. Klutz said.

“Why should you kids have all the fun?” said Miss Daisy.

“Yeah, we want to play too,” Mrs. Roopy said.

“This is the only time we have all day to relax,” said Ms. Hannah.

“Yeah!” said all the other grown-ups. “Lighten up.”

Grown-ups are weird.

Me and Michael and Ryan ran out of there as fast as we could and went back to the playground. I hoped that Miss Daisy wouldn't tell my mom and dad that I called all the grown-ups at our school dirtbags.

Back on the playground, we decided that Miss Small really does have a serious problem. And now it's spreading to all
the other teachers. Somehow, we're gonna have to think of a way to make Miss Small grow up and act mature and boring like a normal adult.

But it won't be easy!