Zooman Sam (4 page)

The next letter was A. He looked at it carefully, trying to put it together with the M. "Maaa," Sam said aloud. "Zooma."

"Now look at the last letter," Anastasia said. She glanced at her watch. "I have to go in a
minute. Want a hint? Think of something that begins with 'super.'"

"Superman?" Sam asked. He looked back at the red letters. "Zooman!" he said in amazement. "Zooman Sam!"

"Is that cool, or what?" his sister asked. She wiggled her shoulders into her backpack.

Grinning, Sam poked his legs into the suit, pulled it up over his arms, and zipped the front. It felt good. He put his sneakers back on, and pushed the Velcro fasteners closed again.

"Zooman Sam," he said to himself. He walked around the kitchen, pretending that he was checking the cages. "Here comes Zooman Sam!" he called to the pretend animals.

"Be a lion, please," he instructed his dad.

Myron Krupnik looked up from his newspaper and roared fiercely. Sam carefully put a piece of bacon into his father's open mouth.

"Sleuth?" Sam said. "Bacon?" The dog looked up eagerly. "Be a wildebeest." Sam loved the word
wildebeest.
At the sound of the word
bacon,
Sleuth jumped up and bounded over to where Sam stood. Sam fed him the bacon.

"Giraffe, please," he said to his mother. She stretched her neck silently and leaned down
toward Sam. Quickly Sam went to the windowsill where his mother kept small pots of herbs. He pulled off a mint leaf and fed it to the giraffe, who nibbled politely.

Then the giraffe kissed the top of his head. That reminded Sam of something. He turned to his sister, who was just opening the back door.

"Where's my hat?" he asked.

"I have to go to school," Anastasia said.

"
You didn't forget my hat, did you?
" Sam asked.

"No, I didn't forget. Look in the hall closet. Mom will explain about the hat, Sam. I can't be late. Bye."

Sam looked around the kitchen-zoo, where all of the animals were savoring their feedings. His lion-father licked his lips and turned a page of the paper. His wildebeest-dog stared hopefully at the zookeeper, yearning for a second helping. His giraffe-mom plucked a dead leaf off one of the pots of herbs and sneaked another bite of mint.

Sam headed to the hall closet to see about his hat.

Pleased with his costume, excited about how his sister had solved the problem of the zookeeper's hat, Sam sat beside his mother in the car.

"Everybody will wonder why I didn't come in the carpool car," he worried. He frowned, fooled with his seat-belt buckle, and looked at his mom as she drove.

"No, they won't. I called Emily's mother and told her I'd be driving you to school today. Nobody even notices who comes in what car."

"Anyway, Emily's car always smells like throw-up," Sam said, remembering.

"Poor Emily. She gets carsick."

"I don't get carsick," Sam said. He pushed the button that made the window go up and down.

"Don't play with that, Sam," Mrs. Krupnik said. Sam stopped. He looked around for something else to play with. He wished it were raining. Sometimes his mom let him turn on the windshield wipers.

Sam's mother nipped the directional signal and turned the car onto a quiet, tree-lined street. Sam's school was at the end of this street, in the basement of a church.

Sam bent his knees and tried to fold his legs like Buddha. Anastasia had a little Buddha statue in her room, and sometimes she invited Sam to sit with her like Buddha and meditate. Sam didn't know what meditate was. But he liked sitting like Buddha.

It was hard in the car, though, because of the seat belt. He wondered how the real Buddha, who had a very large stomach, managed to wear a seat belt. He wondered if the real Buddha ever wore red sneakers with Velcro, and a coverall that said
ZOOMAN
.

Probably not, Sam decided. He poked the little button that turned on the seat warmers in
wintertime. That would surprise his mother on her way home.

His mom parked in the school parking lot. She got out of the car, helped Sam out from his side, and then she lifted a bulging dark green trash bag from the back seat.

"I can carry it," Sam said.

"You sure?"

"It's not heavy." Sam lifted the bag and headed toward the school entrance.

"Hi, Sam!"

"Hi, Adam!" Sam called to his friend. He could see that Adam was wearing his yellow slicker and a red fireman's hat.

"What're you, a trashman?" Adam called.

Sam smiled but didn't answer.

"Hi, Sam!"

"Hi, Eli!" Sam called. Eli, too, was dressed as a fireman.

"Hi, Zachary! Hi, Peter!" Zachary and Peter were also firemen.

Mrs. Bennett appeared from the coatroom. "Good morning! Can I help you with that, Sam?" she asked. She took the trash bag, set it on the floor, and helped Sam unzip his jacket.

"You're not a fireman, Sam!" Mrs. Bennett
said. "Good for you! We have eleven firemen, and that's quite enough, I think. Even Josh decided to be a fireman instead of a Native American. What does this say on your chest?"

Sam puffed out his chest so that Mrs. Bennett could read the red embroidered words.

"
ZOOMAN SAM
!" she said. "That's super, Sam. You can tell us all about what a zooman does when it's your turn. Go hang up your jacket now. And where shall we put your equipment? Is that part of your costume?"

Sam nodded. He pointed to the corner behind the piano, and Mrs. Bennett put the large trash bag there, on the floor, where it was out of the way.

Sam's mom waved goodbye to him. Once, when he had just started nursery school, she had always kissed him goodbye. But Sam didn't like her to do that anymore. So now she kissed him goodbye at home, or in the car, but at school she just gave him a little wave. Not a great big flapping-in-the-air wave; Sam didn't want that kind in front of his friends. He liked just a small finger wiggle of a wave; it was sort of a code, one that he and his mom had agreed upon, and it meant "I love you a lot, and I will be waiting at home for you, with a grilled cheese sandwich or a hot dog. Have a wonderful morning at school."

Every single boy except Sam was a firefighter.

Two girls, Jessie and Kate, were carrying briefcases, and said they were going to be lawyers like their mothers.

Leah, as she had promised, was wearing a white jacket and a stethoscope, and announced that she was going to be a doctor. In the carrying basket of her wheelchair, Leah had a lot of pill bottles filled with M&M's, but Mrs. Bennett said that no one could have any until snacktime, even if the doctor prescribed them. Leah said also that she might give shots to anybody who behaved badly, but when Mrs. Bennett said, "I don't think so," Leah made a face and said okay, she wouldn't. Sam, who hadn't planned to behave badly, was nonetheless a little relieved. Sam thought Leah's shots would probably have been pretend ones, but he wasn't certain; and he didn't want a shot, pretend or real.

Mrs. Bennett's assistant teachers, Miss Ruth and Ben, helped the children organize themselves in a big circle. Ben, who was called Big Ben because he was very large, let two children
sit on his lap every morning; today he gave Lindsay and Josh a turn. Poor Miss Ruth was so thin that her lap was uncomfortable because her knees were pointy. She was sorry about that, so sometimes she let one of the children wear her big sunglasses. Today Leah, in her doctor's uniform, was wearing Miss Ruth's glasses; she had to wrinkle her nose again and again, to keep them from falling off.

Mrs. Bennett looked around with a smile. "Every single one of you came dressed for a Future Job," she said proudly.

"Becky didn't!" one of the firemen called out. Calling out was not good behavior, but sometimes the children did it anyway. Sometimes even Sam did it.

"I did too," Becky said, and pouted. Everybody looked at Becky. She was wearing a denim jumper, a red turtleneck, black tights, and white sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a piece of blue yarn.

Mrs. Bennett smiled. "Would you stand up, Becky?" she asked.

So Becky stood.

"Would you like to tell the children about your Future Job?" Mrs. Bennett asked. But Becky looked at the floor, pouting still.

"Would you like me to give them a hint?" Mrs. Bennett asked.

Becky nodded.

So Mrs. Bennett thought for a minute. "Becky told me what she wanted her Future Job to be," she explained, "and we tried to figure out how she should dress."

Everybody stared at Becky, who was wearing her regular clothes. Even Sam, who was pretty good at figuring things out, was puzzled.

"We decided to ask Miss Ruth for advice," Mrs. Bennett explained.

Everybody was looking at Miss Ruth, who was sitting on the floor with the children. Miss Ruth smiled. Sam was still puzzled. So were the others.

"Miss Ruth," Mrs. Bennett suggested, "why don't you stand up with Becky?"

So the assistant teacher unfolded her legs, rose, and went to stand beside Becky. Miss Ruth was wearing a blue denim jumper, a red turtleneck, black tights, and white sneakers. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, was tied with a piece of blue yarn.

Suddenly Sam got it. Even though it was not good behavior, he called out. "Becky's going to be a nursery school teacher!" Sam shouted.

"
Assistant,
" Becky corrected.

"Do you want to tell us a little about what you'll be doing in that job, Becky?"

"Uh, help children do stuff," she said.

"That's right," said Mrs. Bennett. "You'll be a good helper, and—what else?"

"Teacher. I'll teach them to do scissors," Becky said.

"Good for you. Okay, you can sit down now, Becky." Miss Ruth, the assistant, went back over to her place and sat on the floor again, near Sam. Becky continued to stand.

"And paste," she said.

"That's right. We do a lot of pasting in school, don't we? Okay, now—" Mrs. Bennett looked around the circle.

"And pour juice," Becky said.

"Right. Who wants—"

"And take children to the bathroom," Becky said.

Mrs. Bennett looked at the big clock on the wall. "Good for you, Beck. Sit down now."

"And I would drive one of the cars on field trips," Becky said, still standing. "And read stories," she added.

"
Sit down!
" Adam yelled. "It's time for firemen!"

"
And play the piano!
" Becky yelled back.

Sam sighed. He wanted to tell about zookeeping. He wanted to open the big bag behind the piano. But he was afraid it was going to be a long wait.

Finally.
Finally.

It was about to be Sam's turn at last.

He could tell that Mrs. Bennett was getting a little impatient. Becky had been crying, over on the time-out chair, for a long time, sometimes so loudly that you could hardly hear the other children telling about their Future Jobs. Finally Big Ben had taken her to the little kitchen for a glass of water and then brought her back, sniffling, and let her sit on his huge lap; and now Becky was okay, just grouchy, and her face looked all messed up from crying.

Becky cried every single day at school, about something, so they were all used to it. But it was boring, listening to her cry. Sam leaned toward her and made a goofy face, to cheer her up, but she buried her own face in Big Ben's shirt and wouldn't look up.