Mrs. Jafee Is Daffy! (4 page)

After we dried off and changed clothes, it was time for lunch in the vomitorium. Me and the guys sat at one table. Andrea and her girly friends sat at the next table. Mrs. Jafee was walking around with a basket.

“Who wants a hardtack?” she asked.

“A heart attack?” I asked. “Why would anybody want one of them?”

“No, silly!” Mrs. Jafee said. “Hardtack is a kind of cracker that soldiers ate during the Civil War. It’s made from flour, salt, and water. I baked this batch myself, you betcha!”

Hardtack sounded disgusting. Ryan said he would try a piece, because he will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food. One time he took a bite out of the seat cushion on the school bus.

Mrs. Jafee gave Ryan a piece of hardtack.
He bit into it.

“It tastes like cardboard,” he said.

Only Ryan would know what cardboard tastes like. Who eats cardboard? Ryan is weird. The rest of us told Mrs. Jafee that we didn’t want any hardtack. She said she had to go back to her office.

“I can’t wait until Civil War Week is over,” Michael said.

“Yeah, and Mr. Klutz will get back from Principal Camp,” said Neil the nude kid. “Mrs. Jafee is weird.”

“Maybe Mrs. Jafee isn’t a real vice principal,” I said. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, “maybe she kidnapped our real vice principal and has her
trapped in a bamboo cage that’s hanging from a tree in the jungle. Stuff like that happens all the time, you know.”

“Stop trying to scare Emily,” said Andrea at the next table.

Emily looked like she was going to cry. As usual.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” said Ryan. “Mrs. Jafee is trying to take over Mr. Klutz’s job. She didn’t send him to Principal Camp so he would be a better principal. She sent him to Principal Camp so she could have him
murdered
!”

“No!” said Emily. “It can’t be true!”

“I saw that in a movie once,” said Michael. “I’ll bet Mrs. Jafee is sitting in her
office right now stroking a cat and plotting how to murder Mr. Klutz. Villains always stroke cats while they plot how to murder people.”

“We’ve got to
do
something!” Emily said, and then she went running out of the vomitorium.

And do you know what? For once in her life, Emily was right. We
did
have to do something.

We all scraped off our trays. Instead of going out for recess, we slinked down the hall to the office. We were slinking around like secret agents. It was cool.

Finally, we got to Mrs. Jafee’s office. The door was open a crack. We peeked in. And
you’ll never believe in a million hundred years what Mrs. Jafee was doing in there.

She was stroking a cat!

“See?” Michael whispered. “I
told
you she’s plotting to murder Mr. Klutz!”

“Howdy, guys and gals!” Mrs. Jafee suddenly said. “Come on in! Meet my new kitten. His name is Mister Fur Columbus.”

“He’s adorable!” Andrea said, running over to pet the cat.

“No, he isn’t!” I said. “That cat is evil! And you, Mrs. Jafee, will stop at nothing to turn your evil plan into reality!”

“Huh?” Mrs. Jafee said. “What evil plan?”

“You want to be principal, don’t you?” asked Michael.

“Well, someday maybe, yes, I suppose,” said Mrs. Jafee.

“Aha!” Ryan said. “So you admit it! You sent Mr. Klutz away to be murdered so you could take over the school!”

“That’s silly,” Mrs. Jafee said. “I told you. Mr. Klutz is at Principal Camp.”

“Liar!” I shouted.

“Here, I’ll prove it to you,” Mrs. Jafee said, pulling a piece of paper from her desk drawer. This is what it said.

Dear Mrs. Jafee,

I’m having a wonderful time at Principal Camp. This morning we made lanyards. We also had rock climbing, archery, and parachuting. I hope to learn how to swim tomorrow. I never learned when I was a boy. Tell the kids I miss them.

Sincerely,

Mr. Klutz

There was also a photo of Mr. Klutz paddling a canoe.

“See!” I said to Andrea. “I
told
you they have canoes at Principal Camp!”

“Well, I guess you’re not planning to murder Mr. Klutz after all,” Michael said.

“Of course not!” said Mrs. Jafee.

We all stroked Mister Fur Columbus before we left. But I didn’t trust either of them for one minute. I was sure Mrs. Jafee had something up her sleeve.

And not just an arm.
*

On Thursday morning we were doing math in our class when Mrs. Patty’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

“Mr. Granite, please send A.J. to Mrs. Jafee’s office.”

Bummer in the summer!

“Ooooh!” Ryan said. “You’re in trouble, A.J.”

“Maybe you’ll get kicked out of school for all the mean things you’ve said to me, Arlo,” said Andrea.

“Your face should get kicked out of school,” I told her.

I walked down the hall real slowly, just in case I was in trouble. If you ever get called down to the principal’s office, walk as slowly as you possibly can. That’s the first rule of being a kid.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked when Mrs. Jafee opened her door.

“Heavens no!” Mrs. Jafee said. “Come on in.”

And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years what she had on her desk.

I’m not gonna tell you.

Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.

Mrs. Jafee’s desk was filled with cake, cookies, candy, and a tub of ice cream!

“You gave me an idea yesterday, A.J.” Mrs. Jafee told me. “You said guys and gals would learn better if they ate ice cream, cookies, cake, and candy. So, doggone it, I decided to do an experiment to see if that was true.”

“You mean I get to eat all this?” I asked.

“You betcha! Have a seat.”

This was even better than the time Mr. Klutz gave me a candy bar! This was the greatest moment of my life.

I sat down, and Mrs. Jafee handed me a book called
Civil War Stories for Kids
. She told me to read the first chapter.

“Can I have a cookie while I read?” I asked.

“You betcha!” Mrs. Jafee said. “That’s the whole idea of the experiment. Eat as many cookies as you want.”

I took a cookie from the plate and ate it while I read the first page of the book. I hate reading, but it wasn’t so bad because I had a cookie.

“Can I have some candy?” I asked when the cookie was done.

“Okeydokey!” Mrs. Jafee said. “Eat up!”

I gobbled down some M&M’s, jelly beans, and a KitKat bar while I read from the book. I couldn’t wait to tell everybody in class that Mrs. Jafee gave me junk food. They would be so jealous!

“Have a hunk of cake,” Mrs. Jafee said.

“Don’t mind if I do!” I said.

I kept reading chapter one in the book while I ate. It was about a drummer boy who had to fight in the war.

“How about some ice cream?” Mrs. Jafee asked. “It’s Moose Tracks.”

“My favorite flavor,” I said.

Mrs. Jafee put a big scoop of ice cream in a bowl and gave it me. It was great, but I was starting to get full.

“More candy,” Mrs. Jafee said.

“No, thank you,” I told her. “I’m going to take a little break.”

“I wasn’t askin’ you if you wanted more candy, A.J.,” she said. “I was
tellin’
you that I’m
givin’
you more.”

“Oh,” I said. “Okay. Can I bring some of it home with me to eat later?”

“Nope, sorry,” Mrs. Jafee said. “The experiment must be completed on school grounds.”

I took a Twix bar and ate it. My stomach was starting to feel a little funny.

“More cake,” said Mrs. Jafee.

“But—”

“I
said
, ‘MORE CAKE’!” shouted Mrs. Jafee. She stuck a fork full of the stuff into my mouth like I was a baby.

“More ice cream!” she said, taking a big scoop with a long spoon.

“Do I have to?” I asked with some of the cake dribbling out of my mouth.

“YOU BETCHA!”

I swallowed the ice cream. I was starting to feel sick.

“MORE CANDY!” she said.

“No more!” I begged. “Please! Stop! I’ll do anything!”

“EAT IT!” Mrs. Jafee yelled. “You must
eat
all
this junk food to complete the experiment.”

I thought I was gonna die.

Well, I know one thing—studies do
not
show that kids learn better if we eat lots of ice cream, cookies, cake, and candy. After the experiment in Mrs. Jafee’s office, I had to go home and lie down for the rest of the day. I may never eat junk food again. Or at least, not for a few days.

The next morning was Friday, the best day of the week.
*
I was a little late getting to school. By the time I arrived, everybody was in the playground. I ran over there and found the kids in my class.

“What’s going on?” I asked Ryan.

“Beats me,” he replied.

That’s when two guys in army uniforms marched out of the gym. One of them was that guy Stonewall Jackson, who I’m pretty sure was really our librarian, Mrs. Roopy. The other one was wearing a blue uniform and a beard. But it was obviously Mrs. Jafee.

“You guys and gals gave me an idea the other day,” she said. “Studies show the
best way to learn is to
do
the thing you’re learning. So I thought the best way to learn about the Civil War would be to reenact it, right here at Ella Mentry School!”

“WHAT?!”

“We’re gonna have a war in the playground?” one of the fourth graders asked.

“You betcha!” Mrs. Jafee said. “I will be General Grant of the Union army. And you know General Stonewall Jackson of the Confederate army. Any questions?”

“Are we going to use real guns?” Andrea asked. “Guns are dangerous.”

“Of course not,” said Mrs. Jafee. “We will act out the war with water guns.”

The teachers came out of the gym and
passed out Super Soakers to everybody. It was cool.

Mrs. Jafee told everybody in second and third grade to go to one end of the playground and everybody in first and fourth grade to go to the other end. The kindergarten kids were given drums to play on the side, because they’re too little to handle Super Soakers.

Stonewall Jackson led us to our end of the playground. We all gathered around
him, I mean her.

“Kids,” she said, “we, the people, have nothing to fear but fear itself. Four score and seven years ago, the torch was passed to a new generation. And now, it’s morning in America.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Charge!” Mrs. Jafee suddenly yelled from across the playground.

I looked up and saw about
a hundred kids screaming as they ran toward us with Super Soakers. I thought I was gonna die!

“Don’t fire till you see the whites of their eyes!” Stonewall Jackson shouted.

After that it was all pretty confusing. Kids were running all over the place, screaming and shooting water everywhere. Some of those fourth graders were big kids. They were drenching our second graders. We were all getting soaked. Kids were falling down, freaking out, and calling out for their mothers.

“Run for your lives!” shouted Neil the nude kid.

“Retreat! Retreat!” hollered Stonewall Jackson, and we all gathered around her
again at the back of the playground.

“Listen up,” she said. “Those Yankees are beating us badly.”

“Yankees?” I asked. “Why would we fight a baseball team?”

Everybody laughed even though I didn’t say anything funny. Andrea rolled her eyes.

“I thought this was supposed to be a
civil
war,” she complained. “It doesn’t seem very civil to me.”

“What are we gonna do, General Jackson?” asked Michael.

“There’s only one thing we
can
do,” Stonewall Jackson said. “We need to capture Mrs. Jafee, I mean General Grant.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s our only hope,” Stonewall said. “I need two volunteers.”

Andrea waved her hand in the air, of course, so she got picked. I looked at my shoes so Stonewall wouldn’t call on me.

“Andrea,” Stonewall said, “I need you and A.J. to go on a very dangerous mission.”

“Why me?” I protested.

“Oooooh!” Ryan said. “A.J. and Andrea are going on a dangerous mission together! They must be in LOVE!”

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

“Shhhhhhh!” Stonewall Jackson said. “I need you two to sneak through the woods in the back of the playground, come up
behind enemy lines, and capture Mrs. Jafee.”

“How are we gonna do that?” I asked.

“With this,” Stonewall said, pulling out a big cloth sack.

“Yes, sir!” Andrea said, taking the sack and saluting.

“Good luck,” said Stonewall Jackson. “We’re counting on you two. Don’t let us down.”

Me and Andrea sneaked off into the woods. It was a long walk to the other side of the playground.

“I’m scared, Arlo,” Andrea said. “Hold my hand.”

“Soldiers don’t hold hands,” I told her.

“We could get ambushed by the enemy
out here,” Andrea said. “Hold my hand, Arlo.”

“No!”

“Please, Arlo?”

“I’m not holding your hand, and that’s final,” I said.

That’s when I spotted Mrs. Jafee. She was all by herself, leaning against a tree and taking a drink from a water bottle.

“Look!” I whispered to Andrea. “There she is!”

“Shhhhhh!”

We sneaked up behind the tree. We were just a few feet away from Mrs. Jafee. I could hear her breathing. Andrea lifted the sack in the air and pulled it down over
Mrs. Jafee’s head.

“What the—”

But Mrs. Jafee didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence. She was in the sack.