Tabloidology (6 page)

Right after the first bell rang at school, Ms. Baumgartner's voice was heard over the pa speaker in Martin's classroom. “Mr. Branch? Could I please see Martin Wettmore in my office?”

What with the superintelligent photocopier and a library that turned into a wading pool, yesterday had been a strange day. Now, today was off to a strange start of its own. No one in his class could believe that Martin “Never-Broken-a-Rule-in-His-Life” Wettmore was being called down to the office.

At first Martin figured, in his half-awake state, that he hadn't heard right. But his teacher said, “Martin, you'd better get going. Ms. Baumgartner's asking for you.”

“There must be some mistake,” Martin said. “Maybe there's another Martin Wettmore in the school. Or maybe there's another kid who looks just like me and she's gotten us mixed up.”

“I don't think so,” Mr. Branch said. “Let's go, Martin! To the office. Right away.”

A moment later, Ms. Baumgartner's voice came over the pa speaker in another class. “Mrs. Green? Could I please see Trixi Wilder in my office?”

This was no surprise to anyone. Trixi's visits to the office were routine.

Unlike Martin, Trixi had a pretty good idea why she was being called down to the office. After her parents' visit to the school yesterday, Ms. Baumgartner never did get around to telling Trixi how she was planning to
fix the problem
. When Trixi walked into Ms. Baumgartner's office and saw Martin Wettmore already sitting in her yellow plastic chair, she wondered, Why is he here? Is he some sort of witness? Is he going to write a first-hand report on my punishment for his boring school newspaper?

As Martin watched Trixi sit in another yellow chair right next to his, he wondered, Why is she here? Is she some sort of witness? Is she going to advise Ms. Baumgartner on the proper punishment to give based upon her vast personal experience?

Instead of sitting behind her desk as usual, Ms. Baumgartner stood in front and leaned against the edge.

“You might be wondering why I've called you both into my office at the same time,” she said.

“I think that's a pretty safe thing to say, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said. Martin didn't say anything. He just stared at the floor.

“Well, let me tell you. I'll start with you, Martin,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “I certainly have to admire the dedication, hard work and tremendous effort you put into the school newspaper each and every week. However…” Ms. Baumgartner paused and folded her arms.

Martin lifted his head when he heard Ms. Baumgartner say
However
. He didn't like the way she said the word.

“However, by my calculations, since taking over the
Upland Green Examiner
you have printed approximately two thousand copies of the newspaper and sold…twenty. That means one thousand nine hundred and eighty unsold newspapers went into the recycling bin. Through sales of the newspaper, you have earned five dollars, while the cost of printing the newspaper has been approximately eight hundred dollars.”

Martin jumped to his feet. “I thought you liked the paper! I thought you thought I was doing a good job! I thought you thought I thought—”

“Sit down, Martin,” Ms. Baumgartner said. She walked around her desk and sat down. “Here's the situation, Martin. After the flood in the library, the school needs every penny it can get its hands on to buy replacement books. We have to find ways of saving money.”

Martin didn't like the sound of this one little bit. This was definitely not shaping up as a “good news” speech.

“There are many people in this school who feel we should shut the school newspaper down,” Ms. Baumgartner continued. “I don't want to do that, Martin. I know how much the newspaper means to you. So instead of shutting the newspaper down, I'm giving you another chance. You may continue to write, copy and sell the school newspaper…but under one condition.”

Martin gulped and sat up straight in his chair, his hands folded across his lap.

“From now on,” Ms. Baumgartner said, “you must sell enough copies of the paper to pay for the costs of photocopying.”

“Pay for the costs of photocopying my newspaper?” Martin said.

“Yes. In other words, the newspaper must pay for itself,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “If the cost of printing the paper each week is, say, twenty dollars, then you must sell twenty-dollars worth of papers. But if the newspaper can't pay for itself, we will just have to shut it down. I'm afraid we have no choice in the matter. Do you understand, Martin?”

“You're saying that the
Upland Green Examiner
has to pay for itself?” Martin said.

“Yes, Martin. That's exactly what I'm saying.”

“Doesn't anyone in this school see how important it is to be informed?” Martin said. “Doesn't anyone see how important it is to know what's going on around the school? The news of the school may not be entertaining, but it's important information! Like my Grandpa Wettmore said—”

“Yes, Martin, we know what your Grandpa Wettmore said. The plain truth is the school can no longer afford to pay for the printing of your paper. You'll just have to sell more copies.”

“I will not change the way I write my newspaper just to make it more en…en…entertaining!” he said. “I won't change the news just to sell more papers. The school newspaper is more important than money!” Martin's face had turned a deep red and his hands gripped the sides of the chair tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“I'm sorry, Martin,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “We simply haven't got the money to print your paper. Either it pays for itself or we'll have to shut it down. It's as simple as that.”

Martin slumped in his chair like a rag doll, his eyes staring blankly at the floor.

“Now for you, Trixi,” Ms. Baumgartner said, turning in her chair. “You might be wondering what you have to do with all of this.”

“Let me take a wild guess,” Trixi said, scanning the ceiling. “Could it have something to do with a meeting you had with my parents yesterday?”

“It's not just about that, Trixi,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “We are all concerned with your behavior in and out of the classroom. It's not only disruptive to the rest of the school, but it's also affecting your schoolwork.”

“Oh, brother,” Trixi said, sliding down in her chair. “Here it comes.”

“However,” the principal continued, “we all recognize that you have some very special talents. Although your ‘activities' cause disruptions in our school, they do show a great deal of creativity and careful planning. The problem, Trixi, is that your talents are being wasted. They're being used for the wrong purposes.”

“Uh, Ms. Baumgartner? Does Martin have to hear all this?” Trixi said.

“Actually, he does. Here's the reason why I have you both here,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “We have you, Martin—an excellent writer with a newspaper that isn't selling. Then we have you, Trixi—someone who doesn't like to write, but is full of incredibly creative ideas.”

Martin and Trixi glanced at one another. Neither of them liked where Ms. Baumgartner's lecture was heading.

“I'm suggesting that the two of you work together on the school newspaper. Martin's attention to the facts and his outstanding spelling and grammar will be combined with Trixi's creativity and imagination. Together, the two of you will produce a school newspaper that students will be eager to read and buy.”

“You're not serious, are you?” Trixi said, rising out of her seat. “This is just some sort of sick joke, right?”

“Sit down, Trixi. This is no joke. I am completely serious.”

“But I hate writing! You know I'm no good at it. The paper will be full of bad spelling and wrong words in the wrong places. Think how bad it'll make the school look!”

“That's why you and Martin are the perfect team,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “You've got the ideas, and he can help you with the writing.”

“She'll ruin my newspaper!” Martin said, jabbing a finger in Trixi's direction. “She'll destroy it! She does that to everything!”

“The two of you must learn to work together,” Ms.

Baumgartner said. “That's all there is to it.”

“Work together!” Martin howled. “I can't work with… with…her! I hate her! And she hates me!”

“Now, Martin,
hate
is a very strong word,” Ms. Baumgartner said.

“Not in this case,” Trixi said. “In fact, I'd say it's probably not strong enough!”

“But I didn't think you even knew each other. You're in different classes, and you don't have the same friends. How can you dislike someone you barely know? I just assumed—”

“Well, you assumed wrong!” Trixi jumped out of her seat again.

Ms. Baumgartner cleared her throat and pointed at the chair. Trixi sat down.

“The two of you will just have to work things out,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “Remember our school motto: Cooperation, Kindness and Caring.”

“I know our school motto,” Trixi said, “and if you must know, only the teachers believe in it. None of the kids do.”

Ms. Baumgartner's eyes widened as she tilted her head back. “Do you believe in our school motto, Martin?”

“Yes, except when it comes to her,” Martin said, throwing a quick glance at Trixi. “We've hated each other since my first day at this school.”

“Yeah,” Trixi said. “We've never liked each other. Ever.”

“She's right, Ms. Baumgartner,” Martin said, looking the principal in the eye. “The first day I was here, she poured chocolate milk down the back of my shirt.”

“He's right,” Trixi said. “My friends and I thought it was a good way to welcome him to the school.”

“That's right!” Martin said, nodding rapidly. “And she and her friends threw snowballs at me on my way home and hit me in the eye!”

“Martin's right. We figured he deserved it because he's the geekiest kid in the entire school.”

“Precisely!” Martin said, nodding his head even faster. “And Trixi's got to be the most obnoxious person I've ever met!”

“Absolutely!” Trixi replied. “And let's not forget to mention Martin's bad breath. It's so bad, it could knock a buzzard off a manure spreader!”

“She's right! And she's got the personality of a bag of rusty nails!”

“I couldn't agree with you more!” Trixi grinned.

“So you can see, Ms. Baumgartner, it would be impossible for the two of us to work together on the newspaper,” Martin said.

“Martin's right. We'd never be able to agree on anything! And besides,” Trixi said, “you can't
force
us to work together.”

“You're absolutely right, Trixi,” the principal said. “I can't force you to work on the paper, so I'll give you two choices.”

“Two choices? Okay. What are they?”

“Choice number one: you can work together and make the school newspaper a success,” Ms. Baumgartner said.

“Yeah, yeah, sure thing,” Trixi said. “What's choice number two?”

“Choice number two: we shut the newspaper down, and you, Trixi, can spend the next ten Saturdays washing school buses. I'm sorry it's come to this, Trixi, but things have reached a point where your antics just can't go on any longer. You've got to stay out of trouble and apply yourself to your schoolwork. That's the only way your skills will improve. I'm giving you an opportunity to do all that with the school newspaper.

So, what'll it be?”

Trixi sighed. “Is there a choice number three?”

As Martin left the principal's office, he felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach by a horse, whacked in the shins by a kangaroo and punched in the nose by a gorilla. The
Upland Green
Examiner
wasn't really the
school's
newspaper. It was
his
newspaper. Every dotted
i
and crossed
t
was his doing. No one else in the school was good enough to work on
his
paper, especially not Trixi Wilder!

Martin's only hope was that Trixi would rather wash school buses than work on the newspaper. But knowing Trixi, that wasn't very likely. As Martin headed to class, he was madly trying to figure out a way to outsmart Trixi and prevent her from completely ruining his newspaper.