The Fabled Fifth Graders of Aesop Elementary School Page 3

  Bernadette shrugged. “Well, I think I overheard Mrs. Shorthand say it.”

  “You think?” repeated Humphrey.

  “That’s hearsay,” said Amisha. “I know because my dad’s an attorney.”

  “Whatever,” replied Bernadette. She tucked her horn-rimmed glasses back into her pocket and headed to class.

  That afternoon when the final bell rang, Mr. Jupiter asked Bernadette to stay after school. “I want to talk to you about today’s investigative report,” he said.

  “Hard-hitting, wasn’t it?” bragged Bernadette.

  “It certainly was,” agreed Mr. Jupiter. “All afternoon, parents have flooded the office with calls demanding that action be taken. We’ve had exterminators in the basement, health inspectors in the lunchroom, and barbers calling in to offer their services.”

  Bernadette shrugged. “I report what I hear.”

  “And did you clearly hear Mrs. Shorthand say ‘head lice’?”

  Bernadette squirmed for a moment. “Maybe not crystal clearly,” she finally admitted. “But I think that’s what I heard her say.”

  Mr. Jupiter nodded. “Well, here are the facts as I know them. The school is implementing a new parking safety procedure. One suggestion was for teachers to drive off the lot with their headlights on.”

  “Oh,” said Bernadette. “Oh … oh, no, I guess I’ll be back in the principal’s office tomorrow morning.”

  Mr. Jupiter patted her shoulder. “You know, when I worked as a cub reporter for the Klondike Courier, my editor was always shouting ‘Dagnabbit it, Jupiter, verify your sources.’”

  “I don’t understand,” said Bernadette.

  “All good reporters verify their stories,” explained Mr. Jupiter. “They don’t just make things up based on hearsay and rumor. They interview people, double-check their facts, see for themselves. Do you understand?”

  “I think so,” said Bernadette.

  “Good,” said Mr. Jupiter with a smile. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Bernadette stuffed her notebook into her backpack and headed out to the bike ramp. But instead of pedaling straight home, she turned toward Vesta Street.

  She braked in front of a gloomy old Victorian.

  “It sure looks like the house of a crazy lady,” muttered Bernadette.

  At that moment the front door opened. Ms. Bozzetto stepped onto the porch in a cloud of felines—big cats, little cats, old cats, young cats, one-eyed cats, three-legged cats, striped cats, bald cats. They wove in and out of the art teacher’s ankles, purring, mewing, and nipping.

  “And that sure looks like a crazy cat lady.”

  Ms. Bozzetto waved. “Hello!” she called to Bernadette. “Have you come to adopt a cat?”

  “Huh?” said Bernadette.

  Ms. Bozzetto stomped her foot. “Isn’t that a fine howdy-do—that blasted sign has fallen over again.” Followed by the cats, she bounded into the yard, picked up the sign, and staked it back into the ground. The sign read:

  MS. BOZZETTO’S HOME FOR FORLORN AND FORGOTTEN FELINES

  Then she peered at Bernadette. “I know you!” she exclaimed. “You’re that WUSS reporter.”

  Bernadette nodded.

  “Can I help you with something?” asked Ms. Bozzetto. She bent and tickled a calico cat at her feet.

  Bernadette nodded again. “I … I … was wondering if I could ask you a few questions,” she stammered.

  The art teacher beamed. “Sure,” she said, holding open the gate. “Come on in.”

  The following Monday the fifth graders were on the air again—Melvin, Ham, Jackie, Stanford, and—

  “Students of Aesop Elementary,” said Bernadette in her most serious voice. “This reporter has uncovered evidence that a crazy woman works in our school.”

  Behind the camera, Ham groaned. “Not more rumors.”

  On camera, Bernadette said, “Her name is Ms. Bozzetto, our new art teacher, and she is crazy …” Bernadette adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses and rearranged her notes. “Crazy … about cats.”

  Behind Bernadette a picture appeared. It was of Ms. Bozzetto and Bernadette sitting on a hair-covered couch surrounded by a cloud of cats.

  Bernadette smiled into the camera. “These are just a few of the forlorn and forgotten felines saved from the mean streets by Ms. Bozzetto’s kindness and generosity. She takes them in—all of them—loves them, and cares for them until they are adopted by families of their own.” Bernadette paused for effect. “This reporter, for one, is heart-warmed. Aren’t you?”

  MORAL: Don’t believe everything you hear.

  HYPERMIB… UM… HYPERMOB… UH… WEIRD BODY TRICKS

  “LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!” ERNEST exclaimed during math. He cracked all ten of his knuckles.

  “That’s nothing,” said Calvin. “Watch this!” He popped his thumbs out of joint.

  “I’ve got you both beat,” said Bernadette. She bent the fingers of her left hand all the way back until they touched her wrist.

  Mr. Jupiter put down his protractor. “Those are all excellent examples of hypermobility,” he said.

  “Hyper-huh?” said Ham.

  “Hypermobility,” translated Stanford with a superior sniff. “It means having joints that stretch farther than normal.”

  “You mean like this?” asked Ham. He bent his arm behind his back and reached up to his ear.

  “Precisely,” said Mr. Jupiter.

  “Can you do this?” asked Jackie. She touched the tip of her tongue to the tip of her nose.

  Tongues wagged, but no one could.

  “Or this?” asked Jackie. She touched the tip of her tongue to the point of her chin.

  More wagging, but still no one could.

  “Or this?” asked Jackie. She leaned forward and licked her own elbow.

  Tongues around the room came up short.

  Jackie raised her arms in victory. “The winner and fifth-grade hypermib … um … hypermob … uh … weird body tricks champion,” she cried, “Jackie Jumpbaugh!” She made the sound of a roaring crowd.

  “Big deal,” said Lenny. “Even my dog can lick his own nose.”

  “And the other end too,” added Bruce.

  The two boys woofed and panted.

  “Mongrels,” said Victoria. She stuck out her tongue and then … folded it in half.

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Ernest. “Did you see that?”

  Everyone turned to Victoria.

  “Do it again,” urged Ernest.

  Victoria did. Then she twisted her tongue into a basket shape … a clover shape … and then she rolled it up like a carpet.

  “Who’s champion now?” she asked.

  “Pffft!” said Rachel. She stomped her foot for attention. “Pffft! Pffft! Pffft!”

  The class looked at her.

  “Pffft,” said Rachel, and she moved her eyeballs back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster and faster still, until—

  “Remarkable,” commented Mr. Jupiter.

  Rachel’s eyeballs were shaking around in her head like a washing machine on the spin cycle.

  The room erupted into a frenzy of weird body tricks as the fifth graders tried to outdo each other. Noses twitched. Joints popped. Skin stretched. Eyes crossed. Fingers tangled.

  Ashley Z. burped the alphabet.

  “At last,” said Mr. Jupiter, nodding at the boy. “And it was worth the wait.”

  Now the fifth graders hollered at one another. “Try this!”

  “Can you do this?”

  “Watch me!”

  Only Melvin remained in his seat. He silently watched his classmates with a bemused look on his face.

  For the first time, Calvin noticed him.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Calvin asked. “Don’t you know any tricks?”

  “I know some,” said Melvin.

  “They must not be any good if you’re not showing them off,” said Calvin.

  Melvin shrugged. “They’re okay.”

  The oth
ers noticed Melvin too.

  “I bet yours are nothing compared to my knuckle trick,” said Ernest.

  “Or my tongue trick,” said Victoria.

  Mr. Jupiter turned to Melvin and nodded encouragingly. “Share with us,” he said.

  “Okay, if you really want me to,” said Melvin. He pushed off his shoes, stripped off his socks, and padded barefoot to the front of the room.

  The class stopped and watched.

  And Melvin sneezed … but his eyes stayed open!

  “That’s it?” said Calvin. “That’s your trick?”

  “There’s more,” replied Melvin.

  Plucking a kazoo off Mr. Jupiter’s desk, he played “America the Beautiful.” As he did, he raised his eyebrows, first the left one, then the right one, then the left one, then the right one. Left, right. Left, right. His eyebrows kept time to the song’s beat.

  “Interesting,” admitted Calvin.

  “There’s more,” said Melvin.

  Dropping the kazoo back onto the desk, he sat on the floor. Then he bent his left index finger all the way back to his wrist. He crooked his left arm all the way behind his back. He wrapped his left leg behind his neck, tucked his elbow behind his knee, and let his left foot dangle over his right shoulder.

  Eyes wide, Bernadette pulled out her reporter’s notebook.

  “I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Calvin.

  “There’s more,” said Melvin. This time he bent his right index finger all the way back to his wrist. He crooked his right arm all the way behind his back. He wrapped his right leg behind his neck, tucked his elbow behind his knee, and let his right foot dangle over his left shoulder.

  Emberly, who had spent his summer reading the entire McFardy Boys mystery series, pulled out his magnifying glass for a closer look.

  “He’s a human pretzel,” declared Calvin.

  “There’s more,” said Melvin. Rolling head over elbow down the aisle, he pushed up his desk lid with his head and fished around until he pulled out his lunch bag with his teeth. Then, using just his bare toes, he unwrapped the straw from his juice box. For several seconds all anyone could see were his lips and cheeks moving as he sucked the juice into his mouth. Then—

  TA-DA!

  Melvin stuck out his tongue. On its tip was the straw, and it was—

  “Tied in a knot!” shouted Calvin. “He tied a knot with his tongue.”

  The classroom exploded into whistles and cheers and applause.

  Even Mr. Jupiter whooped. “I haven’t seen anything that extraordinary since my traveling days with those famous Venetian contortionists, the Tumbling Twistolinis.”

  Melvin unfolded himself. “It was nothing,” he said with a blush.

  “Nothing?” repeated Humphrey.

  “Why, you’re a genius … a master!” cried Calvin. “Geez, you should have told us you could do all that years ago. We’d have noticed you back in first grade.”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  Then Jackie pretended she was talking into a microphone. “Here he is, sports fans, the fifth-grade hypermib … hypermob … weird body tricks champion—Melvin Moody!” She made the sound of a roaring crowd.

  “Gee, thanks,” said Melvin. He sat back down at his desk and put his shoes and socks on.

  MORAL: He who does a thing well does not have to boast.

  CLASS PETS

  ONE MORNING IN OCTOBER, MR. SWILL huffed and wheezed and struggled down the hall with a big wooden crate. He pushed open Mr. Jupiter’s door with his foot.

  The class looked up from their One Hundred and Ninety-two Countries Everyone Should Know textbooks.

  “Good morning!” chirped Mr. Jupiter.

  “Heavy,” grunted Mr. Swill. “Heavy.” Stumbling into the classroom, he lowered the crate to the floor, then fell back against the totem pole, gasping for breath.

  Mr. Jupiter read the postmark on the crate. “Burma,” he said. He smiled. “Good, they’ve finally arrived.”

  “Finally arrived?” repeated Humphrey. “What’s finally arrived?”

  “Our class pets,” replied Mr. Jupiter.

  At the word pets, the fifth graders leaped from their seats and crowded around the crate. Even Mr. Swill found the energy to look interested.

  “Do you think it’s a unicorn?” squealed Ashlee A. and Ashleigh B. They clutched each other’s arms with excitement, then broke into a cheer: “Unicorns! Unicorns! GOOOOO, Unicorns!”

  Ashley Z. covered his ears. “I hope it’s a girl-eating Siberian tiger.”

  “Or a rare and exotic pink-headed duck,” said Lenny. “I read about those in International Geographic.”

  “Hey!” cried Bruce. “What do you call the tiger who swallowed the duck?”

  The others stared at him.

  “A duck-filled-fatty-pus!”

  Lenny and Bruce high-fived and howled with laughter.

  “Why don’t we just open the crate and find out?” suggested Emberly.

  “Excellent idea,” said Mr. Jupiter. Grabbing the battle-ax off the suit of armor, he raised it over his head.

  “Wait!” cried Rose. “There are words written on this side.”

  “What do they say?” asked Mr. Jupiter.

  Rose peered at the words. She read aloud: “‘Elusive in nature.’”

  “Huh?” said Ham. “What’s that mean?”

  Stanford rolled his eyes. “Elusive means hard to find,” he translated.

  “You mean like an ivory-billed woodpecker?” asked Ham.

  “Or a giant squid?” said Bernadette.

  “Hurry, Mr. Jupiter, open it!” exclaimed Amisha. She crossed her legs and bounced from foot to foot. “The suspense is going to make me e-x-p-l-o-d-e!”

  Using the ax, Mr. Jupiter carefully pried off the lid.

  Everyone peered inside to see …

  “Another box!” exclaimed Emberly.

  They pulled the second, smaller box out of the first.

  “This one has writing too,” said Rose. She ran her finger under the words, and—leaving an ink smudge behind—she read: “‘Strange and unique.’”

  “Strange and unique,” repeated Humphrey. “Our pets are strange and unique.”

  “And elusive in nature,” Stanford reminded him.

  “I wonder if they have fangs and breathe fire,” said Melvin.

  Calvin grinned at his new friend. “That’d be way cool.”

  “Open it, Mr. Jupiter,” begged Amisha. She crossed her legs, bounced from foot to foot, and swayed back and forth. “Open it, p-l-e-a-s-e.”

  “Pretty pleeeeeease,” snickered Lenny.

  “Before she peeees,” giggled Bruce.

  Mr. Jupiter pried the lid off the second box. Everyone peeked inside to find …

  “Another box!” cried Emberly.

  They pulled the third, even smaller box out of the second.

  This one read: FROM THE ENDS OF THE EARTH.

  “Let me open it,” begged Mr. Swill, who had finally caught his breath. His hands shaking with excitement, he pulled a large screwdriver from his tool belt and jimmied the lid off the third box.

  Everyone looked inside to find …

  “Another box,” moaned Emberly.

  “I gotta g-o!” squealed Amisha. She dashed out the door as the others pulled the fourth, smallest box out of the third.

  It read: COME THE CREATURES YOU SEEK.

  “What creatures?” wondered Ham. “What could live in there?”

  “Whatever they are, they must be as tiny as scorpions to fit in that little space,” noted Rose.

  “And quiet,” said Missy, pressing her ear against the box. “I haven’t heard a single hiss or growl.”

  “And poetic,” said Lil. “Listen.” And she recited,

  “Elusive in nature,

  Strange and unique,

  From the ends of the earth

  Come the creatures you seek.”

  She sighed. “Isn’t that a lovely verse?”

  “Tha
t’s not a poem, those are clues,” corrected Emberly. He whipped out his magnifying glass. “We must decipher the clues and discover what lies deep within this box.”

  “Or,” said Mr. Jupiter, “we could just open it.”

  With Mr. Swill’s help, he pulled the lid off the fourth box.

  “I hope they don’t bite,” said Ashlee A.

  “I hope they don’t fly,” said Ashleigh B.

  “I hope they don’t stink,” said Ashley Z.

  The class took a step back as Mr. Jupiter reached into the fourth box and pulled out …

  A cage with a card attached.

  The card read: GUINEA PIGS.

  A deflated silence filled the room.

  Then Emberly cried, “Guinea pigs? That’s it? Guinea pigs?”

  “What a bust,” sniffed Mr. Swill. Snatching back his screwdriver, he stomped out the door.

  “We wanted a unicorn!” wailed Ashlee A. and Ashleigh B. in unison.

  “But these are Burmese spectacled guinea pigs,” said Mr. Jupiter. He held the cage (complete with food, water, and exercise wheel) high so everyone could see the two beady-eyed, brown-spotted creatures huddled in one corner.

  “Get serious,” snorted Stanford. “Guinea pigs are guinea pigs.”

  Lenny stepped up for a closer look. “I don’t see anything special about them. They look exactly like my third-grade guinea pigs, which looked exactly like my second-grade guinea pigs, which looked exactly like my first-grade guinea pigs, which looked exactly like my kindergarten guinea pigs, which looked exactly like—you got it!—my preschool guinea pigs.”

  Victoria gave her hair a flip. “Really, Mr. Jupiter, I thought you were more original than this. Guinea pigs? Dull-o-rama.”

  “Victoria’s right,” said Calvin. “All guinea pigs do is eat, sleep, poop, and escape. End of story.”

  The fifth graders turned their backs on the guinea pigs and flopped back into their seats.

  “I see,” said Mr. Jupiter. Without saying another word, he set the cage on the back table between a scale model of the Taj Mahal and a camarasaurus skull, then picked up the teacher’s copy of One Hundred and Ninety-two Countries Everyone Should Know.

  Just then Amisha burst into the classroom. “What did we get?” she cried. “A Komodo dragon? A two-headed cobra? A dodo bird?”