Page 86-91
and to the end
Story
Chapter 23
Page 86
Look out!
Here comes the monster!”
screamed a chubby
fourth-grade boy.
“It’s the monster
from outer space!”
“Aaaah! It’s so ugly!”
yelled his skinny friend.
“Don’t let it touch you!”
warned a girl
with pink glasses.
“Or you’ll turn
into a monster too.”
Bradley ran at them.
They scattered
and regrouped,
like pigeons.
He sat down
to eat his lunch.
“It sure is
a stupid monster!”
shouted a third-grader.
After lunch,
Bradley sat at his desk –
last seat, last row.
He didn’t look at Jeff.
He didn’t look
the other way,
either,
at the chart full
of gold stars.
And he didn’t look
straight ahead,
at Mrs. Ebbel.
He didn’t look anywhere.
It was time
to see Carla again.
He took the hall pass
from Mrs. Ebbel
and walked out of
the classroom.
He hated Carla.
He didn’t want
to make
the same mistake
with her that
he had made
with Jeff.
He realized
Claudia was right.
Carla didn’t like him.
That was just her job.
She was waiting for him
outside her door.
“Hello, Bradley,”
she said
as she held out
her hand.
Page 87
“It’s a pleasure
to see you today.
I appreciate your coming
to see me.”
He walked past her
and sat down
at the round table.
She sat across
from him.
She was wearing
a long sleeved
white shirt
with two triangles
on it,
one red
and one blue.
“Did you make
a list of topics
to discuss?”
she asked.
“No,
you’re the teacher.”
“So?”
“So
you’re the one
who has to say
what we talk about,
not me.
That’s your job!”
“Well, let me think,”
said Carla.
“Are you sure
you can’t think
of anything?”
He shook his head.
“I’m surprised.
I thought you would have
come up with
a lot of
interesting topics.
Well, in that case,
we’ll have to talk
about school.
Shall we start
with homework?”
“Monsters
from outer space,”
he replied.
“Hmm?”
“Monsters
from outer space,”
he repeated.
“You said
I could pick the topic.
I want to talk about
monsters from outer space!”
“What a wonderful topic!”
said Carla.
“The only way
to kill them
is with a ray gun,”
said Bradley.
“Regular guns,
or even hand grenades
and atomic bombs,
won’t kill them.
You need a ray gun.”
Page 88
He stood up
and pretended
to shoot a ray gun,
making a noise
that sounded like
a cross between
a machine gun
and a horse.
Carla put her hands up
to protect herself.
“Don’t shoot me,”
she said.
“You’re a monster
from outer space,”
he told her.
“No I’m not.
I’m a counselor.”
He stopped firing.
“Do you believe
in monsters
from outer space?”
She shook her head.
“No.
But I do believe
there are other types
of creatures
living in outer space.
I just don’t believe
in monsters.
I believe that Earth
is just one small planet
in a gigantic universe.
I think there are billions
of other planets
with trillions
of other kinds
of creatures
living on them.
Some are real stupid
and others smarter
than you or me.
Some are bigger
than dinosaurs;
others, smaller
than ants.
But out of
all those creatures,
I don’t think
there is even one monster.”
“Not even one?”
“No,” said Carla.
“I think everyone
has ‘good’ inside him.
Everyone can feel happiness,
and sadness
and loneliness.
But sometimes
people think someone’s
a monster.
But that’s only because
they can’t see the ‘good’
that’s there inside him.
And then
a terrible thing happens.”
“They kill him?”
“No, even worse.
They call him
a monster,
and other people
start calling him
a monster,
and everyone
treats him
like a monster,
and then after a while,
he starts believing it
himself.
He thinks
he’s a monster too.
So he acts like one.
Page 89
But he still
isn’t a monster.
He still has lots of good,
buried deep
inside him.”
“But what if he’s
real ugly?”
asked Bradley.
“What if he
has green skin,
and only one eye
in the middle of his face,
and three arms,
and two hands
on each arm,
and eight fingers
on each hand?”
Carla laughed.
“You and I
might think that’s ugly,”
she said,
“but that’s just because
it’s different from
what we’re used to seeing.
On that planet,
that might be
considered beautiful.
You may have
just described
a handsome movie star.”
Bradley laughed.
“On that planet,
they probably would think
I was ugly,
because I don’t have
green skin
and I have two eyes.”
Bradley shook his head.
“No, they might think
I was ugly,
but not you.”
“Why, Bradley,”
Carla said
with astonishment,
“that’s the nicest thing
you’ve ever said
to me.
Thank you.”
He blushed.
He hadn’t meant it
the way
it came out.
“I don’t want
to talk about monsters
anymore,”
he mumbled.
“Okay,”
said Carla.
“I think we had
a very good conversation,
don’t you?
You picked
an excellent topic.”
For the rest of
the session,
he colored.
He took
a green crayon
out of Carla’s
large box of crayons
and tried to draw
the creature
from outer space
that he had described.
Page 90
He was able to draw
the three arms,
and six hands,
but he had trouble
fitting eight fingers
onto each hand.
He looked up.
“Carla?”
“Yes, Bradley.”
“Can you see
inside monsters?”
he asked.
“Can you see the ‘good’?”
“That’s all I see.”
He returned to his picture.
He drew a black eye
in the middle
of the creature’s face.
He drew
a red heart
inside the creature’s chest
to show all the “good”
that was there.
“Well,
how does a monster
stop being a monster?”
he asked.
“I mean,
if everyone sees
only a monster,
and they keep
treating him
like a monster,
how does he stop
being a monster?”
“It isn’t easy,”
Carla said.
“I think, first,
he has to realize
for himself
that he isn’t a monster.
That, I think,
is the first step.
Until he knows
he isn’t a monster,
how is anybody else
supposed to know?”
Bradley finished coloring
and showed his picture
to Carla.
“He’s a movie star
on his planet,”
he said.
“Everyone
loves him.”
“He’s very handsome,”
said Carla.
“You want it?”
asked Bradley.
“I mean,
I don’t want it anyway,
so you can have it.”
“I’d love it!”
said Carla.
“Thank you.
In fact,
I’m going
to hang it
on the wall
right now.”
Bradley watched her
tack it up.
He almost told her
She wasn’t allowed
to put holes
in the wall,
but he changed
his mind.
Page 91
It was time
for him to
go back to class.
“I’m looking forward
to seeing you
next week,”
said Carla.
“I hope
you have
another wonderful topic
for us to discuss.”
He started to go,
then stopped
and turned around.
“Yes?”
she asked.
He put his hands
on his hips
and stared at her.
“Did you forget something?”
He stood and waited.
Her eyes
suddenly lit up.
She held out her hand
and said,
“I enjoyed
your visit
very much.
Thank you
for sharing
so much
with me.”
He stretched his mouth
into a half smile,
half frown,
then hurried out of
her office.
The end
see next chapter below
to end of book
24
Here he comes,”
said Lori.
“Don’t be a chicken.”
Colleen bit her bottom lip.
It was after school.
The three girls
stood across the street
and watched Jeff.
“Maybe we should wait
until tomorrow,”
said Colleen.
“Hey, Jeff!”
Lori shouted.
“No,” Colleen whispered.
Jeff turned.
Lori and Melinda
walked toward him.
Colleen lagged behind.
“Hello, Jeff,”
said Lori.
“Hi, Jeff,”
said Melinda.
“Hello, hi,”
answered Jeff.
Lori laughed.
“C’mon, Colleen,”
said Melinda.
“Ask him.”
Colleen blushed
and looked away.
“Colleen has something
she wants
to ask you,”
said Lori.
“Well, see, um, okay, well – ”
stammered Colleen.
“Quit bothering me,”
Jeff said very quietly.
“We’re not bothering you,”
said Lori.
“Colleen just wants
to ask you – ”
Melinda stopped her.
“Let Colleen ask him,”
she said.
“Well, see,”
said Colleen.
“Okay.”
She took a breath.
“I’m having a…
it’s my birth – ”
“I don’t want her
asking me anything!”
Jeff snapped.
Colleen turned
bright red.
“And quit saying hello
to me too!”
“We can say hello
if we want,”
said Melinda.
“It’s a free country.”
“I don’t want you
saying it to me,”
said Jeff.
“Don’t worry!”
Colleen exploded.
“I won’t!”
“I will,”
said Lori.
“Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello.”
“Shut up!”
said Jeff.
He slammed
his book down
on the sidewalk.
“Hello, Jeff, hello, Jeff,”
said Lori.
“Jello, Jeff.”
She laughed
at her mistake.
“Jello, Jeff.
Hello, Jello.”
She laughed
hysterically.
“And quit laughing!”
Jeff shouted.
“She can laugh,”
said Colleen.
“You can’t tell her
she can’t laugh.”
“Hellohellohellohellohellohello,”
said Lori
as fast as
she could.
“Shut up!”
screamed Jeff.
“You shut up,”
said Melinda.
“I’m not afraid
of you, Melinda,”
said Jeff.
“I’m not afraid
of you either,”
said Melinda.
Jeff raised his fists
in the air.
Melinda did the same.
Lori shrieked
with anticipation.
“Okay, hit me,”
said Jeff.
“You hit me first,”
said Melinda.
“No, you hit me first,”
said Jeff.
“Somebody hit somebody!”
shouted Lori.
Jeff tapped Melinda’s shoulder
with his fist.
She slugged him
in the stomach.
As he bent over
she hit him
in the nose.
Jeff flailed his arms
as he tried
to defend himself,
but Melinda kept punching him,
in the neck,
in the stomach,
then in the eye.
Jeff fell
to the ground.
Melinda jumped
on top of him,
knees first.
She sat
on his chest
and held his arms
flat against the ground.
Lori knelt beside them
and slapped the ground
as she
counted:
“One…two…three…
four…five…six…
seven…eight…nine
ten!”
Melinda stood up.
Lori held Melinda’s arm
high in the air.
Holding her nose
with her other hand,
she bellowed:
“The winner,
and still
champion of the world…
Marvelous Melinda!”
Colleen clapped her hands.
I
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
25
’m going to be good, thought Bradley, and then, when
everybody sees how good I am, they’ll know I’m not a
monster.
“And Mrs. Ebbel will give you a gold star,” said Ronnie.
Bradley was so excited, he didn’t realize he was putting
on two different-colored socks: a blue one and a green one. He
tied his shoelaces, then went into the bathroom and looked at
himself in the mirror.
His black eye was almost all gone. It had faded into a
light brownish-yellowish color. He hurried out to breakfast.
His mother made oatmeal for him.
“I hate hot cereal,” he complained.
“You’ll eat what you’re served,” said his father. “This
isn’t a restaurant.”
He frowned, not because he had to eat oatmeal, but
because he realized he never should have said he hated it. That
was something the Bad Bradley would say. The Good Bradley
liked hot, lumpy cereal.
He took a big spoonful, brought it to his mouth, and
swallowed the glop. “Mmm, good!” he said, but as he
withdrew the spoon from his mouth, his elbow bumped his
glass of orange juice.
Claudia screamed and jumped up.
“Oh, Bradley!” said his mother.
His father glared at him.
“It was an acci – ” He started to say it was an accident
but then remembered Carla didn’t believe in accidents. That
puzzled him. He wondered why he would want to spill his
orange juice on purpose. He liked orange juice. It was the
oatmeal he should have spilled.
“Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to help
your mother clean it up?” asked his father.
He picked up his napkin to help, but his mother told him
to stay out of her way. “You’ll only make a bigger mess,” she
said.
Silently, he finished eating.
As he headed back to his room, Claudia burst out
laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“Look at your socks!” she laughed.
He looked down at his feet, then back at his sister, the
laughing hyena. “Thank you, Claudia,” he said. “I appreciate
your sharing that with me.”
She stopped laughing and stared at him.
He walked into his room, sat on the edge of his bed, and
took off his sneakers.
“Wow!” said Bartholomew. “You were so good. I would
have punched her face in if I was you.”
“He’s going to get a gold star today,” said Ronnie.
Bradley changed his socks, but once again he was so
excited thinking about the gold star that he didn’t pay attention
to what he was doing. He took the green sock off his right
foot. He took the blue sock off his left foot. He put the green
sock on his left foot and the blue sock on his right foot. Then
he put his shoes on and left for school, determined to be good.
He walked into class and took his seat – last seat, last
row. He sat up straight with his hands folded on top of his
desk. He tried to hold back his excitement as he glanced at the
chart on the wall next to him.
Jeff came in and sat down – last seat, second to last row.
Bradley saw him out of the corner of his eye, then
turned to get a better look. Jeff had a black eye!
“What are you staring at, Chalkers!” Jeff snarled.
“Hey, you two look like twins!” exclaimed Shawne, the
girl who sat in front of Jeff.
“Turn your ugly face around,” Jeff snapped.
“Oh, shut up, Bradley,” said Shawne, turning around.
Bradley looked at the back of Shawne’s head. She still
thinks I’m a monster, he realized. But once I get my gold star,
then she’ll know I’m good. For the rest of the morning, he sat
at attention with his eyes fixed on Mrs. Ebbel. He kept
wondering if she had noticed how good he was yet.
As he walked outside for recess, he was almost certain
there’d be a gold star next to his name when he returned.
Curtis and Doug, two of Jeff’s friends, came out of Mrs.
Sharp’s class. “What’s the big idea?” asked Doug. “Hitting
Jeff when he’s not looking,” said Curtis.
“Huh?” said Bradley.
Doug pushed him.
He stumbled backward into Jeff, who pushed him back
the other way.
Bradley looked around. He was surrounded.
“Jeff’s our friend,” said Robbie.
“Yeah!” said Brian.
“You hit me when I wasn’t looking!” said Jeff. “And my
hands were full of groceries. I didn’t want to break the eggs.”
“Chicken Chalkers,” said Dan.
There was a space between Andy and Doug. Bradley
dashed through it and ran across the playground.
Jeff and his friends chased after him.
Bradley looked back at them and smashed into a girl
standing on one foot. The girl fell onto the hard hopscotch
ground and wailed.
“I’m telling, Bradley!” said one of her friends.
“I’m sorry,” Bradley said helplessly, then continued
running. He ran up the concrete steps and entered the school
building through the auditorium. From there, he walked
quickly to the library.
“What do you want, Bradley?” asked Mrs. Wilcott, the
librarian.
“Nothing,” he muttered as he sat down at one of the
tables. He leaned his head against his hands, propped up by his
elbows.
What if Carla’s wrong? he worried. What if I really am a
monster?
“I don’t want any trouble from you, Bradley,” said Mrs.
Wilcott.
“W
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
26
e’ll get you at lunch, Chalkers,” Robbie whispered
as Bradley returned to class.
“You’re late,” said Mrs. Ebbel.
He sat at his desk – last seat, last row – and looked at
the chart on the wall next to him. Of course there was no gold
star next to his name. He had already done three things wrong:
First, he had knocked over a girl and made her cry. Second, he
was late getting back to class. And third and worst of all, his
name was Bradley Chalkers. As long as his name was Bradley
Chalkers, he’d never get a gold star. They don’t give gold stars
to monsters.
They beat up monsters. He looked around at Jeff,
Robbie, Russell, and Brian. He had to concentrate very hard to
keep from crying.
The worst part wasn’t getting beaten up. The worst part
was that he knew everyone would love it so much. He
imagined the whole school – the boys, the girls, and even the
teachers – standing by and cheering as Jeff’s gang took turns
hitting and kicking him.
When the bell rang for lunch, he slowly took his paper
sack out of his desk.
“We’ll be waiting for you outside,” Jeff said to him.
Bradley watched him walk out the door. He walked
slowly toward the front of the room, then suddenly dashed out
the other door and into the hall.
“Bradley! Come back here!” Mrs. Ebbel yelled.
He kept running. So what if he got in trouble? What
difference did it make?
He pulled on the door to the library. It wouldn’t budge.
The library was closed during lunch.
He tried to think of somewhere else he’d be safe.
“There he is!” said Doug, stepping out of the
auditorium.
Bradley turned and ran back the way he had come. He
rounded a corner, then stopped and made a quick and
desperate decision.
He opened the door to the girls’ bathroom, closed his
eyes, and stepped inside.
He opened his eyes. Luckily, the room was empty.
He held his breath and listened. Nothing could be worse
than being beaten up inside a girls’ bathroom. They’d probably
stick my head in a girls’ toilet, he thought.
He waited. He didn’t hear anything.
He looked around. The floor and the bottom half of the
walls were covered with green tile. There were two white
sinks and a paper towel dispenser. There were three toilets in
three separate stalls. Each stall had a door. It looked very much
like the boys’ bathroom. Girl toilets appeared to be the same
as boy toilets. He was disappointed.
He couldn’t risk going back out into the hall. He leaned
against one of the stalls, reached into his brown paper sack,
and took out his roast beef sandwich.
Someone was opening the door! He quickly put the
sandwich back in the bag and hopped into a stall, closing the
door behind him. He stood on the toilet so his feet couldn’t be
seen.
He listened.
He heard a person walk across the tiled floor and then
enter the stall next to him. He covered his mouth with his hand
as he heard some familiar but very private sounds.
At last the toilet flushed and he heard the person zip her
pants and walk across to the sink. He heard the sound of
running water, and then a paper towel pulled down from the
dispenser. Finally, the bathroom door opened and shut.
He exhaled, hopped off the toilet, stepped out of the
stall, and froze.
Two girls were staring at him. One was the girl who had
used the toilet next to him. The other had just entered. He
wondered which was which. Then he heard the loudest scream
he’d ever heard in his whole life. That answered his question.
He darted past them, opened the door, and flew into the
hall.
He rounded a corner, came to a door, and pounded
wildly on it until it opened.
“Bradley?” said Carla.
“Hello, Carla.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to
see you today.”
S
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
27
he shook his hand.
He walked inside, shut the door behind him, and sat
down around the table. “You won’t believe it,” he said as he
looked at his picture of the green monster hanging on the wall.
“You just won’t believe it.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” Carla agreed. She sat across from
him. She was wearing a sleeveless, black-and-white checkered
shirt.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” said Bradley.
“I was hoping you would.”
“Do you know where I was before I was here?”
“No?”
He slammed his fist on the table. “The girls’ bathroom!”
He told her all about it, how the girl had used the toilet
next to him and how he thought she had left but really another
girl had entered! “At first I didn’t know which girl was which,
but then one of them screamed, so she must have been the
one.”
“Who was she?” asked Carla. “Did you know her?”
“Yes, but I don’t think I should tell you her name. She
probably doesn’t want anybody else to know.”
“That’s very considerate of you, Bradley.”
He shrugged.
“Shall we have lunch?” asked Carla.
“Okay.” He took out his roast beef sandwich.
Carla set her lunch on the table. She had a carton of
yogurt and a plate of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.
“That looks good,” said Bradley.
“You want to trade?”
“Okay.”
They traded lunches. Bradley ate a slice of cucumber.
He thought it was delicious.
“So what were you doing inside the girls’ bathroom?”
asked Carla. She took a big bite out of Bradley’s roast beef
sandwich.
“Jeff and his friends were chasing me,” he explained.
“Jeff’s got a black eye, just like me! They all think I gave it to
him.”
“Did you?”
He could have lied. He could have said, sure, he beat up
Jeff with one hand tied behind his back. He knew Carla always
believed whatever he said.
“No. I can’t even beat up a girl,” he said. “Melinda
Birch beat me up. Do you know her?”
“No.”
“You’d like her. She’s nice.”
Carla smiled.
Bradley ate a slice of tomato followed by a spoonful of
yogurt. “I hid in the library at recess,” he said. “They couldn’t
beat me up in the library, even if they found me. You can’t
even talk in the library.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Isn’t it amazing?”
“What’s that?”
“The library. All those books. And they’re all different,
aren’t they?”
Carla nodded as she drank Bradley’s juice through a
straw.
“I kept thinking about that the whole time I was there,”
he said. “They’re all different, but they all use practically the
same words. They just put them in a different order.”
“Did you – ?”
“Just twenty-six letters,” he told her. “All they do is
move those letters around and then they say so many different
things!”
“Did you – ?”
“You’d think, after a while, they’d run out of ways to
move them around,” said Bradley.
“Did you check out a book?”
“No, Mrs. Wilcott won’t let me. I used to, a long time
ago, before I met you, I used to check out books and not return
them. I used to scribble in them and rip them up. So she won’t
let me check any books out anymore. The whole time I was
there she kept watching me, saying, ‘I don’t want any trouble
from you, Bradley.’ “
He ate another slice of cucumber. “I just wanted to look
at a book. I wasn’t going to ruin it.”
“I know,” said Carla. “And after a while, Mrs. Wilcott
will know that too.”
“I’m trying to be good,” said Bradley. “But nobody will
give me a chance.”
“They will. It just takes time.”
“Do you ever play checkers on your shirt?” he asked.
Carla nearly spit out her juice. She laughed and shook
her head.
“I like your shirts,” he said.
“I like your socks,” said Carla.
Bradley looked at his mismatched socks. “I thought I
changed them,” he said, befuddled.
“I hate socks that match,” said Carla. “See.” She stuck
out her legs. She was wearing white pants. She had on one
white sock and one black sock.
Bradley smiled. It wasn’t his usual twisted smile, but
one that was genuine. It was one that, up till now, had been
seen only by Ronnie and Bartholomew.
“I know something good you can do,” said Carla. “And
Mrs. Ebbel will notice it too.”
“What?”
“Homework.”
The smile dropped off his face. “No. No I can’t,” he
said.
“Sure you can,” said Carla.
“I can’t!” His eyes filled with tears.
“You can do anything you want to do, Bradley Chalkers.
I have a lot of confidence in you.”
He shook his head. “But I can’t.” His voice cracked.
“Don’t say ‘I can’t.’ As long as you say you can’t do
something, then of course you won’t do it. Say, ‘I can!’ Say ‘I
can!’ and you can do anything.”
“I can’t! I can’t!” He was crying.
“Bradley, it’s not that difficult. You’re making a big deal
out of nothing. If you want, I will help you.”
“I can’t,” he sobbed.
“Why can’t you?” she demanded.
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffled. He
looked Carla straight in the eye and said, “I don’t know what
page we’re on!”
“Oh, Bradley,” Carla whispered. Her eyes glistened. She
stood up, walked around the table, and kissed him on the
cheek.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
28
radley lay on his bed, on his stomach. He chewed the end
of his pencil as he looked hopelessly at the arithmetic
book, opened in front of him.
Next to the book was a piece of paper. In the upper
right-hand corner he had written:
Bradley Chalkers
Homework
Arithmetic
Page 43
Red Hill School
Room 12
Mrs. Ebbel’s class
Last seat, last row
Black eye
His handwriting, which was messy anyhow, was made
worse by the fact that he wrote with a dull pencil on top of a
soft bed.
He had stayed in Mrs. Ebbel’s class as long as he could
after the bell rang.
“Bradley, it’s time to go home,” Mrs. Ebbel finally said
to him.
He looked outside, unsure if Jeff and his gang of bullies
were waiting for him. “Um, I have a question,” he said.
Mrs. Ebbel eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of
question?”
He tried to figure out what kind of question he had. “An
asking question.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Ebbel.
“May I ask it?” he asked.
“O-kay,” she said reluctantly.
He asked his question. “What page is the homework
on?”
“The homework? Page forty-three.”
He wrote “43” on the top of his sneaker so he wouldn’t
forget, then took his arithmetic book and stepped outside. Jeff
and his friends were playing basketball. He ran home.
Now he looked hopelessly at Page 3, shook his head,
and sighed.
Question 1. What is three-fourths of two-thirds?
It was the most impossible question he’d ever seen. His
mind wandered.
“Hey, Bradley, what are you doing?” asked Ronnie.
“Homework.”
“What’s homework?” she asked.
“It’s work you do at home.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?” she asked.
“No, really. That’s what they do at school. They give
you work to do at home and they call it homework.”
“You’ve never done it before,” said Ronnie.
“I’m doing it for Carla. Now leave me alone so I can
concentrate.”
Question 1. What is three-fourths of two-thirds?
“Why are you doing it for Carla?” Ronnie asked.
He sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell
anyone.”
Ronnie promised not to tell.
“We’re in love.”
“Really?” exclaimed Ronnie. “How do you know?”
“She kissed me.”
“Oooh, that means she loves you!” said Ronnie. “Are
you going to marry her?”
“Maybe, when I’m older. First, I have to do my
homework.”
“I’m going to marry Bartholomew,” said Ronnie.
“I know,” said Bradley. “Now let me do my homework.”
Question 1. What is three-fourths of two-thirds?
“Hey, Bradley, what’s going on?” asked Bartholomew.
“Leave him alone,” said Ronnie. “He’s trying to do his
homework. He can’t concentrate when you’re talking to him.”
“Maybe I can help,” said Bartholomew. “What’s the
problem?”
“What is three-fourths of two-thirds?” Bradley asked.
“Three-fourths of two-thirds,” Bartholomew repeated.
“That’s a tough problem all right. Three-fourths of two-thirds.
Let’s see. You divide four into – no, you multiply two times,
no…”
“Of means divide,” said the donkey. “Like if you take
half of something it means you divide by two. You divide
three by two and four by three.”
Bradley started to write that down.
“No, of means times,” said the lion. “You have to
multiply everything.”
“First you have to reverse the nominators,” said the fox.
“You don’t reverse, you inverse,” corrected the mother
cocker spaniel.
“I think you have to find a common denumerator,” said
the elephant.
“Not for multiplication,” said the hippopotamus. “That’s
only for addition.”
“Multiplication is the same as addition,” said the fox,
“only faster.”
“You cancel out the threes,” said the kangaroo. “You
always cancel out threes.”
“You multiply the threes,” said the lion.
Bradley kept erasing and rewriting and erasing and
rewriting until there was nothing but a big black smudge
covering his paper. On top of the smudge, he tried to write 3 ×
3 = 9, but as he did so, his pencil tore a hole through the paper.
“The answer can’t be nine,” said Ronnie. “If you start
out with fractions, you have to end up with fractions.”
Bradley slammed the book shut. “None of you know
what you’re talking about!” he cried out in disgust. He took
the book, paper, and pencil, and walked down the hall to the
dining room.
His mother was sitting at the table working a crossword
puzzle from the newspaper. He plopped down next to her and
sighed.
She looked at him inquisitively.
“I can’t figure out how to do my homework,” he
complained. “Will you help me?”
His mother smiled. “I’d be delighted. Let me see.”
He pushed his arithmetic book in front of her. “Page
forty-three.”
She opened the book to that page and looked at
Bradley’s torn, smudged paper. “Okay. First let me clear away
this newspaper so we can have a nice, neat place to work.
While I do that, I want you to get a clean sheet of paper.”
“I don’t have any more paper. This is all I brought
home.”
“There’s some paper in your father’s desk. Get a sharp
pencil, too.”
He looked at her in disbelief. He wasn’t allowed to
touch anything on his father’s desk.
She nodded.
Bradley felt a little scared as he walked into the extra
bedroom which his father used as an office. He opened the top
drawer of the old oak desk and carefully took out a pencil and
a piece of paper. He shut the drawer, looked around, then
hurried back to his mother.
She smiled at him.
He sat down and wrote, much neater this time:
Bradley Chalkers
Homework
Arithmetic
Page 43
Red Hill School
Room 12
Mrs. Ebbel’s class
Last seat, last row
Black eye
“You have to put all that,” he explained, “in case it gets
lost.”
She read the first question aloud. “‘What is three-fourths
of two-thirds?’ “
He shrugged.
“Okay,” she said, “the first thing you want to do is write
the equation.”
He still didn’t know what to do.
She wrote it for him.
“Whenever you see the word of, it means you multiply,”
she explained.
“Of means times,” he said.
“Right,” said his mother.
That was what the lion had said.
“Now you can cancel out the threes,” said his mother.
That was what the kangaroo had said. You always
cancel out threes.
Neither of them noticed that Claudia was standing
behind them, watching. “That’s not how you’re supposed to
learn it,” she said abruptly.
Bradley turned around and glared at her.
“You have to explain why you cancel them,” said
Claudia. “And they don’t call it canceling. It’s called dividing
by one.”
“I just know the way I learned it,” said Mrs. Chalkers.
“If you want, I can show you, Bradley,” said Claudia.
He looked at his mother, then back at Claudia, then at
his mother.
“She knows the way they’re teaching it now,” said his
mother.
“You’ll help me?” Bradley asked his sister.
“Sure, why not? I got nothing better to do.”
Mrs. Chalkers stood up, and Claudia took her place.
“Don’t do it for him,” said Bradley’s mother. “Make sure he
knows how to do it himself.”
Claudia worked patiently with Bradley for the rest of the
afternoon. When he said he understood something, she made
him explain it to her. That was harder. He understood it when
she did it, but then he had trouble when he tried to do it
himself.
By dinnertime, they were only a little more than halfway
through. Bradley wanted Claudia to help him after dinner, too,
but she had her own homework to do.
“You know how to do it,” she told him. “You can do it
yourself.”
“I need help,” he complained.
“I’ll help you,” said his father.
“You will?”
“Let’s go to my office. We can work at my desk.”
Bradley couldn’t believe it.
They worked together. Bradley was surprised by how
much his father knew. He made all the hard parts seem easy.
Bradley was a little disappointed by how quickly they
finished. He had liked working with his father.
He brought his finished homework back to his room.
“Oh, I get it, Bradley,” said Bartholomew. “You
multiply the numerators and denominators separately. But I
still don’t understand reducing.”
“It’s easy,” said Bradley. “Here, let me show you again.”
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
29
radley was too excited to sleep. Mrs. Ebbel will be so
surprised, he thought. She’ll tell the whole class, “Only
one person got a hundred percent – Bradley!”
But there were so many things that could still go wrong.
What if I lose it on the way to school? he worried. What if Jeff
and his friends steal it? Twice during the night he got out of
bed to make sure it was safely folded inside his arithmetic
book.
What if I did the wrong page? He was no longer sure
whether Mrs. Ebbel had said page 43 or Page 62! He tried to
remember exactly what she said to him.
He sat up in horror. She never said it was arithmetic
homework. Mrs. Ebbel had just said a page number. She never
said what book! She could have meant history, or language, or
any of his other books!
He lay back down and trembled. His tears wet his
pillow.
He got out of bed early in the morning, checked to see if
his homework was still there, then quickly got ready and left
for school without eating breakfast.
On the way he stopped to make sure he still had his
homework. As he opened his book, the paper fell onto the
sidewalk, right next to a puddle of water.
He stared at it, horrified by what he had almost done,
then quickly picked it up and placed it back in his book. He
held the book tightly shut the rest of the way to school.
He was one of the first ones there. He had to wait for the
doors to open. He kept on the lookout for Jeff and his gang. He
stood with his back to the school wall so they couldn’t sneak
up behind him.
He saw Andy. He thought Andy had seen him, too, but
if he had, he didn’t do anything about it.
When the doors opened, he was the first one in Mrs.
Ebbel’s class. He sat at his desk – last seat, last row – and
waited.
As the other kids came in, he saw them put sheets of
paper on Mrs. Ebbel’s desk. He wondered if that was their
homework. He now had a new worry. He didn’t know how he
was supposed to turn in his homework.
Jeff entered, placed a piece of paper on the pile on top of
Mrs. Ebbel’s desk, then came toward the back of the room.
It must be his homework, thought Bradley. What else
could it be?
“Shawne,” he said aloud.
The girl who sat in front of Jeff turned around.
“Are you supposed to put your homework on Mrs.
Ebbel’s desk?”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Bradley!” Shawne snapped.
“You worry about your homework, and I’ll worry about mine,
okay?” She turned back around.
It was almost time for school to start. What if I have to
put it on her desk before the bell rings or it doesn’t count? He
fumbled through his book for his homework, stood up, then
headed for Mrs. Ebbel’s desk.
He became more nervous with each step he took. His
mouth was dry and he had trouble breathing. He could hardly
see where he was going. He felt like he was going to faint.
Mrs. Ebbel’s desk seemed so far away. It was like he was
looking at it through the wrong end of a telescope. His heart
pounded and his homework rattled in his hand.
Somehow he made it to her desk and tried to focus on
the sheets of paper the other kids had put there. It looked like
arithmetic homework! Page 43!
But instead of feeling better, he felt worse – like he was
going to explode.
“Do you want something, Bradley?” asked Mrs. Ebbel.
He looked at his homework shaking in his hand. Then
he tore it in half and dropped it in the wastepaper basket next
to Mrs. Ebbel’s desk.
He instantly felt better. His head cleared and his
breathing returned to normal. His heart stopped pounding.
He walked back to his desk, took a deep breath, exhaled,
and sat down. He folded his arms on his desktop and lay his
head down sideways across them. He felt sad, but relieved, as
he gazed at the gold stars.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
30
radley remained in his seat after everyone else had gone
out to recess. He walked to Mrs. Ebbel’s desk.
She was sorting papers.
“Mrs. Ebbel,” he said timidly. “May I use the hall pass?
I have to see the counselor.”
She looked up.
“Please.”
Normally Mrs. Ebbel would never allow Bradley
Chalkers loose in the halls, but something about the way he
asked must have changed her mind. “All right, Bradley,” she
said, then caught herself. “But if you’re bad, you’ll never be
allowed in the halls of this school again!”
“Thank you.”
He took the hall pass off the hook behind her desk and
headed out the door.
“You’re welcome,” Mrs. Ebbel said to herself.
He knocked on the door to Carla’s office.
“How nice to see you today, Bradley,” she greeted him.
“I appreciate your coming to see me.”
He shook her hand, then they sat around the round table.
She was wearing the shirt with the squiggles on it. It was the
one she wore the first time he saw her. He liked it, but not as
much as the one with the mice.
“I did my homework last night,” he said.
Carla beamed. “I’m so proud of – ”
“I ripped it up.”
“What?”
“I ripped it up. I brought it to school, and I was just
about to put it on Mrs. Ebbel’s desk, but then I ripped it up.”
“Why did – ?” Carla started to ask.
“Why did I rip it up?” he asked her first.
“I don’t know, why did you?”
He shrugged.
She shrugged.
They both giggled.
“I was afraid you’d be mad,” Bradley said when he
stopped giggling.
Carla shook her head. “You did your homework, that’s
the important thing. I’m so very proud of you, Bradley
Chalkers.”
“I’m going to do all my homework, from now on,” he
promised.
“That’s wonderful!”
“But what if I keep ripping it up?” he asked.
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think I wanted to rip it up,
today.”
“The main thing is that you did it. And you learned
some things by doing it, didn’t you?”
“What ‘of’ means,” said Bradley.
“What ‘of’ means?” Carla repeated.
“Times,” said Bradley.
She stared at him, baffled. “Oh, right!” she said, as it all
suddenly connected for her. “Okay, so even though you ripped
up your homework, you still remember what you learned. You
didn’t rip up your memory. And when Mrs. Ebbel gives the
next arithmetic test, you’ll know how to answer the
questions.”
“If they don’t change the rules,” said Bradley.
“What rules?”
“Like, what if they decide to make of mean
subtraction?”
“They won’t change the rules,” Carla assured him,
“whoever they are.”
“But what if I rip up my test, too?” he asked.
Carla looked at him as if he was being silly. “Has Mrs.
Ebbel given you any homework for tomorrow?” she asked.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Okay, for Monday?”
“No, we never have homework over the weekend.” He
spoke like an expert, like he’d been doing homework for
years. “But we have a book report due next week. Only…”
“Only what?”
“I don’t have a book. And Mrs. Wilcott won’t let me
check out any from the library.”
“Well, let’s see,” said Carla. “Do you think you might
know somebody else who might let you borrow a book? Think
hard now.”
Bradley looked around at all the books in her office.
“May I borrow one of yours?” he asked. “Please. I won’t
scribble in it.”
Carla walked around the table, then picked out a book
from a stack on top of one of her bookcases. “It’s my
favorite,” she said as she gave it to Bradley.
He read the title and laughed. My Parents Didn’t Steal
an Elephant, by Uriah C. Lasso.
He opened to page one and read the first sentence.
I hate tomato juice.
He thought that was a funny sentence to start a book. He
continued reading.
Every morning, Aunt Ruth gives me a glass of tomato
juice, and every morning I tell her I hate it. “Fine,
Dumpling,” she always says, “don’t drink it.”
She calls me Dumpling. Uncle Boris calls me Corn
Flake. They’re crazy. One of these days I’m afraid they’re
going to try to eat me.
He glanced up at Carla, then returned to the book.
My parents are in jail. They got arrested for stealing an
elephant from the circus. Only they didn’t do it. If they
stole an elephant I’d know about it, wouldn’t I? I mean, if
your parents stole an elephant, don’t you think you’d
know about it?
I think the elephant just ran away. Her master was
always mean to her. He whipped her and made her do
stupid tricks. My parents used to complain about that a
lot. That’s why everybody thinks they stole her.
So, anyway, that’s why I have to live with my crazy
Aunt Ruth and Uncle Boris. If you ask me, they belong in
the circus. They’re crazy!
Uncle Boris always smokes a cigar. It just hangs out
of the corner of his mouth. Whenever he kisses my aunt,
he swings the cigar out of the way with his tongue, and
kisses her out of the side of his mouth.
I bet you think Aunt Ruth doesn’t like it when he
kisses her that way. Wrong. She always laughs when he
does it. Sometimes she smokes a cigar, too. I told you
they were crazy.
Look! He even smokes his cigar while he’s drinking
tomato juice.
The bell rang. Bradley was amazed by how quickly the
time had passed. “Do you want to have lunch together again?”
he asked.
“I’m sorry. I’m having lunch with the president of the
school board,” said Carla. “I’d much rather eat lunch with
you.”
He didn’t mind too much. At least he had her book to
read.
They shook hands, then he walked back to class. He
placed the hall pass back on the hook and took his seat.
He knew he’d write a good book report because he had
such a good book to read. I just hope I don’t rip it up.
“W
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
31
hatcha doin’, Bradley?” asked Ronnie.
“He’s reading,” Bartholomew replied
nastily. “He says he doesn’t want to be disturbed. He thinks
he’s too good for us now that he does his homework.”
“Oh, be quiet and let him read if that’s what he wants to
do,” said Ronnie.
“Thanks, Ronnie,” said Bradley. “I knew you’d
understand.”
“I knew you’d understand,” mimicked Bartholomew.
Ronnie understood. She knew about Carla.
Bradley returned to his book.
Uncle Boris and Aunt Ruth are married. I bet you thought
you already knew that, except you’re not as smart as you
think you are. They were my uncle and aunt even before
they got married. Uncle Boris is my mother’s brother and
Aunt Ruth is my father’s sister. They didn’t even know
each other until my parents got arrested for stealing the
elephant. Then they both came here to take care of me.
Hah! They fell in love and got married a week later. It
was sickening! You’re lucky you weren’t here.
I’ve been cheated out of an aunt and an uncle. If
they had each married somebody else, then I’d have two
aunts and two uncles. Now I only have one aunt and one
uncle. I wonder what happened to the aunt and uncle I
don’t have. I wonder if they married each other, too.
Bradley looked up. He tried to make sense out of that
last paragraph. It made him think. A lot of parts in the book
made him think. That was one of the things he liked about it. It
made him think about his father, too. About why the man who
shot him wasn’t in jail.
There was a knock on the door. His mother entered
holding a piece of paper. “Oh, you’re reading,” she said.
“That’s good.”
“It’s a good book,” he replied.
“I just got this letter from the Concerned Parents
Organization,” she said. “There’s going to be some sort of
meeting about Miss Davis, your counselor.”
Bradley’s heart fluttered.
“It says if I have any complaints I should come to the
meeting.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think I have
any complaints. She seems to be helping you. Do you have
any complaints?”
“Oh, no! He doesn’t have any complaints.” Claudia
laughed, coming in behind her mother. “He’s in love with her.
I heard him say it to his animals.”
“What?” Bradley exclaimed in a very high voice.
Claudia snickered. “Look, Mom, he’s blushing! That
proves he loves her.”
Bradley wished he could crawl under his bed and hide.
“It doesn’t prove anything,” said Mrs. Chalkers. “Quit
teasing your brother.”
“Where’d you get the book, Bradley?” Claudia asked,
like she already knew the answer.
His heart was beating very fast. “Carla gave it to me.”
“Carla gave it to him,” Claudia repeated.
“Well, I don’t care where he got the book,” said Mrs.
Chalkers. “I’m just happy to see he’s reading it.”
“The only reason he’s reading is because he’s in love
with his teacher,” said Claudia.
“She’s not my teacher, she’s my counselor,” said
Bradley.
Claudia roared with laughter. His mother laughed, too,
but she quickly covered her mouth.
“I didn’t say I was in love with her!” Bradley insisted.
“We were just talking about my counselor, not my teacher,
that’s all!”
“Are you going to let him marry her, Mom?” asked
Claudia.
Mrs. Chalkers smiled. “Well, I don’t know. She seems
like a very lovely girl.”
Bradley felt like he was going to die. His sister was
hysterical.
“So you don’t have any complaints about Miss Davis?”
his mother asked seriously, getting back to the letter.
“She’s okay,” he said without emotion.
Claudia snickered.
“Well, then, I won’t go to the meeting,” said his mother.
“C’mon, let’s leave your brother alone.”
“The Concerned Parents Organization never likes
anything,” said Claudia. “They’re always causing trouble at
my school, too. They want to turn kids into robots.”
Bradley watched his sister and mother walk out of his
room and shut the door behind them.
He lay down on his bed. His face was on fire. “So, I
love her? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” said Ronnie. “They just don’t understand
about love.”
The door opened again. Claudia stuck her face inside
and said, “If the Concerned Parents Organization ever found
out Carla kissed you, she’d be fired for sure!”
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
32
radley paid close attention as Mrs. Ebbel taught
arithmetic. He nodded his head every time she said
something that he already knew. Once he almost raised
his hand to answer a question, but he lost his nerve. Somebody
else gave the answer he would have given. I knew it, he
thought as he nodded his head.
He had spent recess in the library reading My Parents
Didn’t Steal an Elephant by Uriah C. Lasso. When he was
leaving the library, Mrs. Wilcott stopped him and said, “You
were reading, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good for you, Bradley! Good for you!”
He smiled now as he remembered it. It’s because of
Carla’s book, he thought. The book was his lucky charm. As
long as he had it with him, it seemed like nothing could go
wrong.
His black eye was all gone too.
When the bell rang for lunch, he put his arithmetic book
away, took out his lucky book, and walked to Mrs. Ebbel’s
desk. “May I please borrow the hall pass?” he asked.
She let him have it. He knew she would. He was holding
the magic book.
He walked to Carla’s office. Just as he was raising his
fist to knock, she opened the door. “Bradley, what a pleasant
surprise!”
“You want to have lunch together?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to go to the principal’s
office.”
“What’s the matter? Did you get in trouble?” he joked.
She didn’t laugh at his joke. She shrugged her
shoulders, then headed toward the principal’s office.
Maybe she really did get in trouble, Bradley thought as
he watched her go. It’s probably because she doesn’t believe in
rules. She must have broken one without knowing it. I should
have warned her. But he wasn’t too worried. He couldn’t
imagine anything bad ever happening to Carla.
He walked through the auditorium and outside to the
playground. He sat down on the steps outside the auditorium
and ate his lunch. At least he had her book with him. That was
almost as good as eating lunch with her.
He didn’t read while he ate. He was afraid he might
accidentally spill food on the book even if there were no such
things as accidents.
Colleen Verigold walked by.
“Hello, Colleen!” he called to her.
She stopped and looked at him oddly, then walked away
without returning his hello.
Bradley didn’t mind. He had said hello to Colleen
because he knew Carla would appreciate it. He felt Carla was
watching over him. And it didn’t matter that Colleen didn’t
say hello back, because in his heart he heard Carla say, Hello,
Bradley. It’s a pleasure to see you today.
He finished eating, then opened the book.
Guess what they’ve done now? They wallpapered the
garage. I told you they were crazy! Whoever heard of
anybody putting wallpaper on the walls of a garage?
Purple paper with yellow polka dots!
I don’t even know how they got in there. The
garage has been locked shut for months. The lock was
broken or something so nobody could get in.
At least I’m glad they finally got it open. It was
beginning to smell pretty bad. You could smell it from the
driveway. Now it just smells like paste.
I can’t wait until my parents get home and put an
end to all this craziness. Their trial is next week. They
have to be found innocent.
I mean, if they stole an elephant I’d know about it,
wouldn’t I? Where could you hide an elephant?
“Look, he’s reading,” said Robbie.
“I didn’t know he knew how to read,” laughed Curtis.
Bradley looked up. He was surrounded by Jeff and his
gang.
“He can’t read,” said Brian. “He just looks at the
pictures!”
They all laughed.
“Whatcha readin’?” asked Russell.
Bradley closed the book and slowly stood on the
concrete steps.
“Chicken Chalkers,” said Dan.
Andy bounced a basketball.
Bradley glanced behind him. Doug was blocking the
door to the auditorium. “What’s the matter, Bradley?” he
asked.
“Hey, Chalkers, what’s the name of your book?” asked
Robbie.
He looked at his book, then stared defiantly at Robbie.
“Let me see it,” said Robbie.
Bradley clutched it against his chest. No matter what, he
wasn’t going to let them harm Carla’s book.
“Aw, c’mon, Bradley, be a pal,” said Robbie. “I just
want to see it.”
Curtis chuckled.
Robbie stepped up toward him. “You can’t read
anyway,” he said. “Give it to me and I’ll read it to you.” He
reached out and rested his hand on the book.
Bradley jerked it away.
“Uh-oh, I think he’s getting angry,” said Brian.
“I just want to see it,” said Robbie. Again, he reached
for the book.
Bradley held it under his left arm and against his chest.
He made his right hand into a fist.
Robbie backed away. “Jeff,” he called.
“C’mon, Jeff, teach him a lesson,” said Dan.
Jeff stepped between Andy and Russell.
“All right!” said Curtis.
“Hold on,” said Andy. “Let’m get off the steps.”
The boys backed up. Bradley, clutching his book,
walked down the concrete steps to where Jeff was waiting.
“Do you want me to hold your book, Bradley?” said
Andy.
Bradley glanced at him.
“Don’t worry,” he said sincerely. “I won’t hurt it.”
Bradley handed Andy the book, then looked back at
Jeff.
They stood on a patch of grass and dirt and faced each
other. The bruise around Jeff’s eye had turned brown with a
greenish tint. Jeff raised his fists.
The other boys formed a circle around them.
“C’mon, get’m, Jeff,” urged Brian.
“Give him another black eye,” said Russell.
Bradley readied himself. He raised his fists in the air,
then lowered them. He had an idea.
“Hello, Jeff,” he said.
Robbie snickered.
Jeff stared at him, wide-eyed. “Hello, Bradley,” he
replied.
Bradley smiled. He held out his hand.
Jeff smiled too. It was his first honest smile in a long
time. He shook his best friend’s hand.
The other boys were dumbfounded. No one said a word.
Andy finally broke the ice. “Do you like to play
basketball, Bradley?” he asked.
Bradley looked at him, bewildered. “I’m not very
good,” he said.
“So? None of us are,” said Jeff, patting him on the back.
“Now we’ll have even teams!” said Robbie.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
33
radley was terrible!
He dribbled with two hands. He passed the ball to
people who weren’t on his team. But, worst of all, whenever
anyone passed the ball to him, he said “thank you.”
He never shot at the basket. He didn’t dare. Finally, after
his team was losing 28 to 6 anyway, everyone told him to try a
shot.
He looked around for someone to pass to.
Jeff sat down so Bradley wouldn’t pass it to him. “Just
shoot,” he said.
The rest of his team sat down too. “Shoot it!” they said.
Everybody on the other team sat down too. “Shoot the
ball!”
Bradley faced the basket. His tongue slipped out the
corner of his mouth as he carefully aimed, then threw the ball
high in the air. It hit the back of the rim, bounced against the
backboard, then dropped through the net.
“Great shot!” said Jeff.
“Way to go,” said Andy, patting him on the back.
At first he couldn’t believe it, but then he saw Carla’s
book, lying on the ground at the base of the basket. No
wonder, he realized.
Everyone headed for the water fountain. Bradley went
along, too, even though he wasn’t thirsty. But then, once he
got there, he realized he was thirsty. He just hadn’t noticed.
“Good game, Bradley,” said Brian.
“You just have to stop passing to people who aren’t on
your team!” said Dan.
“Maybe you should give the rest of us on your team
black eyes too,” said Robbie. “Then you’ll know who to pass
to.”
Everyone laughed, even Bradley.
He and Jeff were the last two left at the water fountain.
Everyone else had already started back to class. As they drank,
their eyes met and they broke up laughing.
“How did you get the black eye?” Bradley asked after
he stopped laughing.
“Melinda,” said Jeff.
Bradley nodded. “She’s strong,” he said.
“Oh boy, you can say that again,” said Jeff.
They laughed again.
“My book!” Bradley suddenly exclaimed. He ran back
to the basketball court where he’d left it.
Jeff shook his head as he watched Bradley run away.
Life’s weird, he thought.
He walked into the boys’ bathroom and splashed his
sweaty face with cold water. He had to hold the faucet down
with one hand and splash his face with the other.
Colleen Verigold walked in.
He stared at her.
She looked around, then screamed and ran outside.
Jeff watched the door swing shut behind her.
L
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
34
ife was too weird for Jeff to return to class.
Anytime you want to talk again, Carla had said,
please feel free to come and see me. Even if you just feel like
getting out of class for a while.
He hoped she had really meant it. He had a lot he
wanted to say to her, beginning with “I’m sorry.”
He slowly walked to her office. He hoped she wasn’t
with somebody else. He knocked.
Carla opened the door and smiled when she saw him.
“Hello, Jeff.”
He smiled. “Hi, Carla. I’m – ”
He stopped because he saw somebody else sitting at the
round table.
“I believe you two know each other,” said Carla.
Jeff lowered his eyes. “Hello, Colleen,” he muttered.
Colleen Verigold covered her face with her hands.
“You don’t mind if Jeff joins us, do you, Colleen?”
Carla asked.
Colleen shook her head with her hands still over her
face.
Jeff awkwardly sat down. “Mrs. Ebbel doesn’t know
I’m here,” he said.
“I’ll write you a note,” said Carla.
Colleen peeked out from between her fingers. “I’m not
supposed to be here either,” she said.
Carla turned to Colleen. “So what’s the big emergency?
Can you say it in front of Jeff?”
“He already knows,” said Colleen. She looked at Jeff.
“You better not tell anybody!”
“I won’t,” Jeff promised.
“Tell anybody what?” asked Carla.
“Colleen walked into the boys’ bathroom,” said Jeff. “I
was there washing my face.”
“Jeff!” Colleen exploded. “You just promised you
wouldn’t tell!”
“Oops,” said Jeff. He blushed. “It was only Carla. You
were going to tell her anyway, weren’t you?”
Colleen smiled at him. “I didn’t go there on purpose,”
she explained to Carla. “It was an accident.”
“I don’t believe in accidents,” said Carla.
Colleen stared at her in amazement. She wondered how
Carla knew she had gone in after Jeff on purpose. She turned
to Jeff. “I’m sorry for saying hello to you when you didn’t like
it.”
“That’s okay.”
“Anyway, how was I supposed to know you didn’t like
it? You always said hello back.”
“I know. I can’t help it. Whenever anybody says hello to
me, I always have to say hello back.” He looked at the picture
of the green monster with six hands hanging on the wall. “If a
big scary monster said, ‘Hello, Jeff,’ I’d probably say hello
back to it, too.”
Colleen laughed.
“Well, what’s wrong with that?” demanded Carla. “If a
monster says hello to you, you should say hello to it. If you
don’t, then I have to wonder which one of you is really the
monster.”
Colleen frowned. She suddenly remembered that
Bradley Chalkers had said hello to her at the beginning of the
lunch period and she had walked away without saying hello
back. It made her feel terrible.
“You can say hello to me whenever you want,” said Jeff.
She smiled again. “Hello, Jeff,” she said.
“Hello, Colleen,” said Jeff.
“I read somewhere,” said Carla, “that in Zen, the most
important rule is that when one person says hello to you, you
have to say hello back.”
“What’s Zen?” asked Colleen.
“A religion,” answered Carla. She got a book from her
bookcase. “Here it is.” She read aloud from Raise High the
Roof Beam, Carpenters by J.D. Salinger: “ ‘In certain Zen
monasteries, it’s a cardinal rule…that when one monk calls out
“Hi” to another monk, the latter must call back “Hi!” without
thinking.’ ”
“Jeff should be a Zen monk!” Colleen exclaimed with
delight.
Jeff laughed. “I already say hello to anybody who says
hello to me,” he said proudly.
“Can girls be Zen monks too?” Colleen asked.
“Why not?” asked Carla.
Colleen laughed with delight. Then she said, “Jeff, do
you want to come to my birthday party next Sunday?”
“Yes!” said Jeff. “That’s the second most important rule
about being a Zen monk. Whenever another Zen monk invites
you to a birthday party, you have to say yes!”
Colleen laughed again. “You’re the only boy so far,” she
said. “I’ll invite one more, but only one. I can’t invite too
many boys.”
Suddenly she looked very serious. She knew what she
had to do.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
35
efore dinner, while it was still light, Bradley’s father, bad
leg and all, taught Bradley how to dribble. Bradley could
hardly wait to show his friends.
The next morning, when the bell rang for recess,
everyone hurried outside.
Except Bradley.
First, he had to put his paper neatly in his notebook.
Then he had to mark his place in his book and put all his
pencils in his pencil holder. Then he put everything away,
neatly, in his desk.
He rushed out the door.
“Hello, Bradley,” said Colleen.
He stopped cold.
Colleen closed her eyes tightly, then opened them. With
the determination of a Zen monk, she asked, “Would you like
to come to my birthday party on Sunday?”
Bradley stared at her.
“Jeff will be there,” said Colleen. “He’s the only other
boy. Everyone else will be girls. I would have invited you
sooner, except, um, I just found out when it was.”
Bradley nodded his head until his mouth worked. “Yes!”
he said.
“Good,” said Colleen, then scooted away.
Bradley stared after her, then turned around in a circle as
he tried to remember which way he was going.
“Bradley!” called Andy. “Hurry up! We need you.”
He ran to the basketball court. He forgot everything he
had learned about dribbling.
§
“Is he coming?” asked Melinda.
Colleen nodded.
Lori stuck out her tongue and screamed.
“It’ll be fun,” said Melinda. “Bradley’s not the same as
he was. I think he’s gotten better.”
“Oh, you can’t come anymore, Melinda,” said Colleen.
“Why not?” she asked, obviously very hurt.
“Because they’re coming, and you beat them up!”
“But they started it.”
Colleen stared at her, hands on hips. She couldn’t
believe Melinda was being so unreasonable.
“I thought I was your best friend,” said Melinda.
“You are,” said Colleen. “But they’re boys. Oh, okay.
You can come. But you better not cause any more trouble.”
“I thought I was your best friend,” said Lori.
§
That night Bradley lay in bed, too excited to sleep. He
couldn’t wait until tomorrow when he’d see Carla again. He
had so much to share with her. And it was all because of her
magic book.
He turned on the light above his head and read aloud to
Ronnie and Bartholomew. They laughed whenever he did.
“I just met Ace. He’s my parents’ lawyer. Guess what?
He’s crazier than my Aunt and Uncle put together.
The first thing he said to me was, ‘Do you like
peanuts?’
‘They’re okay,’ I answered.
‘Good,’ he said. He gave me a peanut and I ate it.
‘Do you want another peanut?’ he asked.
I shrugged.
So he gave me another peanut and I ate that one,
too. Big deal.
‘You must really like peanuts a lot,’ he said.
I told you he was crazy.
‘I want you to remember that,’ he said. ‘If anybody
asks you, you really like peanuts a lot.’
‘Okay, I really like peanuts a lot,’ I said.
Then he gave me three more peanuts! ‘Eat these!’
I ate them.
‘You just ate three peanuts in five seconds,’ he said.
Can you believe it? He had timed me. Tell me he isn’t
crazy!”
“He isn’t crazy,” laughed Ronnie.
“Why is he making such a big deal over peanuts?” asked
Bartholomew.
“I don’t know,” said Bradley.
There was a loud knock on his door, then his father
entered. “It’s past your bedtime, Bradley,” he said.
“Okay,” said Bradley. He reached for his light.
“Oh, you were reading,” his father noticed. “Well, that’s
all right then. You can stay up if you want to read.”
Bradley smiled. Once again, the magic book had kept
him from getting into trouble.
“So, what did the kids think of your dribbling?”
“I forgot how,” Bradley admitted. He hated to
disappoint his father.
“I guess we need to practice more,” said his father.
“Maybe this weekend I’ll put up a backboard on the garage.”
He said good night and walked out of Bradley’s room.
“Come on, I want to hear about the peanuts,” said
Bartholomew.
Bradley continued reading.
“So then he asked me, ‘Are you good at math?’
Well, I don’t like to brag but math happens to be my
best subject. Big deal.
‘Okay, here’s a math problem for you,’ he said. ‘If
you can eat three peanuts in five seconds, how long
would it take for you to eat fifty thousand peanuts?’
I got out a pencil and paper and figured it out.
‘About twenty-three hours and nine minutes.’
‘That’s less than a day, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There are twenty-four hours in a day.’
He’s supposed to be my parents’ lawyer and he doesn’t
even know how many hours there are in a day!
‘Remember that,’ he told me. ‘If anybody asks you,
you can eat fifty thousand peanuts per day.’
I laughed. ‘Who would ask me that?’
‘The police.’ ”
The chapter ended there.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
36
radley giggled as he walked to Carla’s office for his
regularly scheduled appointment. He couldn’t wait to tell
her all that had happened to him. She’ll be so happy! he
thought.
She was waiting for him in the hall, just outside her
office. But before she could say anything, he beat her to it.
“Hello, Carla,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you today. I
appreciate coming to see you.”
She smiled. “The pleasure is mine,” she replied.
He laughed. He got a kick out of being polite.
They shook hands, then went inside to the round table.
She was wearing a dark blue shirt, almost black, with little
white stars on it. She looked like nighttime.
“So what’s new?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t
know why, but for some reason he didn’t want to tell her.
“What’s new with you?” he asked.
“With me?” asked Carla. “Nobody’s ever asked me that
before.”
“You’re always asking me what’s new,” he said. “Why
can’t I ask you?”
“You can!” she replied. “You can ask me anything you
want. Let me see. What’s new? I bought a new shower curtain
yesterday. But that doesn’t sound like very interesting news,
does it?”
“What color?”
“Oh, sort of beige, I don’t know, it doesn’t really have a
color.”
“That’s a good color,” said Bradley. “It sounds
beautiful.”
“It’s okay,” said Carla.
“What happened to your old shower curtain?” he asked.
“It started getting a little rotten,” said Carla.
“Was it also beige?”
“Um, no,” said Carla. “I think it was yellow when it was
new, but it was sort of a greenish brown when – ”
“Colleen invited me to her birthday party!” he blurted.
Then it all came pouring out of him.
“Jeff’s invited too. We’ll be the only boys. Everyone
else will be girls. Jeff and I are friends now. The other guys
like me too. We play basketball together. At first I was afraid
to shoot the ball, but then everybody said, ‘Shoot, Bradley,
shoot,’ so I shot and made it! Everyone was amazed. So was I.
I still miss a lot more than I make, but I’m getting better.
Everyone says so. My father taught me how to dribble. He’s
going to put a basket over the garage. At first they wanted to
beat me up, but I said, ‘Hello, Jeff,’ and he said, ‘Hello,
Bradley,’ and then Andy asked me if I wanted to play
basketball. Then Colleen asked me to her birthday party and I
said, ‘Yes,’ and she said, ‘Good.’ She would have asked me
sooner except she just found out when she was born.”
Fortunately, Carla had heard most of it already,
otherwise she wouldn’t have understood a thing he said.
“It’s all because of you,” said Bradley.
“You did it, Bradley, not me.”
“It was your magic book!”
“My book? What’s that got to do with – Bradley, what’s
wrong?”
He was crying. One second he was beaming about her
magic book, and the next he was sobbing and shaking all over.
“Bradley?”
He covered his face with his hands. Tears spilled out of
his eyes.
“What is it?” asked Carla. “What happened?”
He shook his head.
Carla rose from the table, got a box of tissues, and
placed it in front of him.
He pulled out a tissue, but didn’t use it. “I’ve never been
to a birthday party,” he blubbered. Then he hiccupped. “Not a
real one, where other kids are there.” He hiccupped again, then
blew his nose. “A long time ago, when I was in the third grade
I went to one, but then they made me go home because I sat on
the cake.”
“Well, you’re a lot smarter now than you were when you
were in the third grade,” said Carla.
“But I don’t remember what to do!” Bradley whined.
“Do I have to bring my own chair?”
“Why would you have to bring your own chair?”
“For musical chairs. That’s why I sat on the cake. I got
mad because there was no place else to sit.” He sniffled. “Will
there be ice cream?”
“Don’t you like ice cream?”
“What if they don’t have enough for me? What if they
only have enough for everybody else? And what about pin the
tail on the donkey?”
“You don’t have to bring your own donkey,” said Carla.
He laughed through his tears. “But what if I stick it in a
bad place?”
“You want to know what I think?” asked Carla. “I think
you’re a little overwhelmed by all that has happened to you.
It’s scared you. You think you’re Cinderella.”
“Cinderella?” he repeated, and laughed again.
“You’re Cinderella and you’ve just been invited to the
ball and now you’re afraid that right in the middle of Colleen’s
birthday party, everything will suddenly turn into a pumpkin!”
He wiped his eyes on his tissue.
“You’re afraid all the good things that happened will
suddenly disappear. You’re afraid everyone will suddenly stop
liking you. But this isn’t a fairy tale, Bradley. Your friends like
you for who you are. My book wasn’t magic. The magic is in
you.”
“Do I have to bring her a present?” he asked.
“You don’t have to do anything,” said Carla. “But it’s a
nice thing to do, don’t you think? Colleen invited you to her
birthday party because she likes you, and you give her a
present because you like her and because you want to help
celebrate her birthday.”
“What should I get her? Should I get her a doll? Is that
what girls like?”
“I don’t know. Everyone likes different things. Give her
something you like. If you like it, then she probably will too.
Give her a gift from the heart.”
“How about a shower curtain?” he asked.
“If it comes from the heart,” said Carla.
He smiled.
When it was time for him to return to class, Carla said,
“I enjoyed our visit very much. Thank you for sharing so
much with me.”
“The pleasure was mine,” he replied. He had been
waiting to say that.
T
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
37
he meeting between Carla Davis and the Concerned
Parents Organization was held after school in room 8, a
second-grade classroom.
Carla sat in a chair that was too small for her and faced
the parents. She crossed her ankles and folded her hands on
her lap. The five members of the school board sat behind her.
The principal sat next to her, at the teacher’s desk.
Bradley’s mother wasn’t there. She was out with
Bradley, shopping for Colleen’s birthday present. Since she
didn’t have any complaints, she didn’t come to the meeting.
The only parents who came were those who had complaints.
“I’d like to know what we need a counselor for?” asked
a father. “Kids have enough counseling. What they need is
more discipline. If they’re bad, they should be punished!”
The other parents clapped their hands.
“We need to get back to basics!” said a woman.
“Reading, writing, and arithmetic. And, of course, computers.”
Her husband had a chart that showed that if the
counselor was fired, there would be enough money to put a
computer in every classroom.
Everyone got very excited about that idea. They all
loved computers.
“No one is being fired,” said the principal. “The purpose
of this meeting is to give you a chance to ask Miss Davis
questions.”
“She told my son it was good to fail!” shouted a woman
standing under a poster of an octopus. “She told him grades
didn’t matter.”
“I never said it was good to fail,” Carla calmly replied.
“I simply tried to help him relax. Children learn better when
they’re not under pressure. They do better when they can
enjoy school.”
“My son doesn’t go to school to have a good time,” said
the woman. “He has to get good grades so he can get into a
good college!”
The principal reminded the parents that Miss Davis
wouldn’t see any of their children without their permission.
“But why should our tax dollars pay for her to counsel
other people’s children?” one of the mothers complained.
Several other parents agreed.
A woman with red hair stood up. “My daughter came
home with one of those forms for us to sign, and we refused to
sign it. We didn’t want her seeing the counselor. We try to give
her all the counseling she needs at home. But then we found
out the counselor’s been talking to her anyway.”
“What’s your daughter’s name?” asked the principal.
“Colleen Verigold.”
Carla admitted that she had seen Colleen without her
parents’ permission. “Colleen came into my office very upset
and said she had to talk to me. She said it was an emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?” asked the school board
president.
“It was something very personal,” said Carla.
“But what was it?” asked the school board president.
“I’m sorry,” said Carla. “I never repeat anything a child
tells me.” She knew Colleen wouldn’t want everybody to
know she had gone into the boys’ bathroom.
“You’re not supposed to see a child without her parents’
permission,” said the school board president. “Now if it was
an emergency, then you might have been justified. But we
have to know the nature of the emergency.”
“I’m sorry,” said Carla.
“You can tell me,” said Mrs. Verigold. “I’m her mother.
If there was an emergency, don’t you think I should know
about it?”
“Ask Colleen. If she wants to tell you, she will. I can’t
break my promise to her.”
“But Colleen’s just a child,” said a member of the
school board. “You don’t have to keep promises to children.”
“I do,” said Carla.
“She’s been trying to make her change religions,” said
Colleen’s mother. “Colleen came home from school and
announced she didn’t want to be Catholic anymore. She wants
to be a Zen monk!”
Carla laughed, though she knew that was a mistake. She
tried to explain about saying hello back to someone who says
hello to you, but nobody seemed to understand what that had
to do with being a Zen monk.
“You’re not allowed to teach religion in public school,”
said the president of the school board. “And you weren’t even
supposed to talk to her child in the first place.” He apologized
to Colleen’s mother and assured her it wouldn’t happen again.
A woman in the front row raised her hand. “I never had
a counselor when I went to school,” she said. “I don’t
understand what they do, exactly.”
“Why don’t you explain to the parents what you do and
how you help different children?” the principal suggested.
“Mostly, I just talk with them,” said Carla. “I listen to
their problems, but I never tell them what to do. I try to help
them to learn to think for themselves.”
“But isn’t that what school is for?” asked the woman.
“To tell kids what to think?”
“I believe it’s more important to teach them how to
think, instead of what to think,” said Carla.
“But if they do something bad, don’t you tell them it’s
wrong?” asked the man sitting next to her.
“No,” said Carla. “I think it’s much better if they figure
that out for themselves.”
“What if there was a boy who bit his teacher?” asked a
father.
“What?” Carla exclaimed.
“Wouldn’t you tell him not to bite her?” he asked.
“No, I’d talk to him about it and try to find out why he
bit her, but – ”
“What if he keeps on biting her?” asked the man. “What
if every day he sneaks up behind her and bites her on her butt?
Then what would you do?”
“This is getting ridiculous,” said Carla.
“Tell him what you’d do,” said the principal.
Carla sighed. “I’d try to help the boy understand the
reason he wants to bite his teacher, and then help him reach
the conclusion that he shouldn’t do it.”
“How long would that take?” asked a woman.
“I don’t know.”
“A month?”
“Possibly.”
“And meanwhile he keeps biting his teacher!” said the
first man. “She could get seriously hurt!”
“She could die,” said another man. “How would you
feel then?”
“What if the kid had rabies?” someone else shouted.
“Don’t you think he should get a rabies shot?”
“I bet you’d feel differently if he bit you on your butt!”
someone called from the back of the room.
Everyone began talking at once.
“What if he bit you?”
“You’d punish him then, wouldn’t you?”
“Then you wouldn’t wait for him to think for himself,
would you? Not if he bit you!”
“What if he bit you?”
Carla uncrossed her ankles, then crossed them the other
way. As she looked at the angry group of parents, she had the
horrible feeling that they all wanted to bite her butt.
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
38
Bradley Chalkers
Homework
Book Report
My Parents Didn’t
Steal an Elephant
By Uriah C. Lasso
Mrs. Ebbel’s class
Room 12
Red Hill School
Last seat, last row
Next to Jeff
My Parents Didn’t Steal an Elephant
by
Uriah C. Lasso
by
Bradley Chalkers
My Parents Didn’t Steal an Elephant was a very funny
and crazy book by Uriah C. Lasso, a funny author to
write such a book. It is a story told by a kid. The kid’s
parents are in jail because they stole an elephant, except
they are innocent. Hey! I just realized something. You
know what? You never know the kid’s name! I just
realized that. You know what else too? You don’t know if
the kid is a boy or a girl! I just realized that right now as I
was writing this book report because I didn’t know
whether to write he or she. I told you it was crazy!
The kid lives with his aunt and uncle. They’re crazy
too. They put wallpaper up in the garage for no reason. I
told you they were crazy.
Ace is crazy too. He’s the lawyer for the kid’s
parents. He makes the kid practice crying for an hour
every day so the kid will be able to cry good in court.
Only when the kid finally gets to court, the kid doesn’t
cry. The kid laughs!
Then everybody else laughs too. Then the kid’s
parents get to go home because they’re innocent.
Except, do you want to know something? I’m not
so sure! I mean, if they really were really innocent, then
who ate all the peanuts?
I told you it was crazy. The end.
The End
“Absolutely wonderful!” said Carla.
“Is it good?” asked Bradley.
“You captured the very essence of the book.”
He smiled even though he didn’t know what essence
meant.
They were sitting around the round table. It was
Thursday before school. Bradley had to turn in his book report
to Mrs. Ebbel, but he wanted Carla to see it first, just in case
he ripped it up.
Carla was wearing a fluffy pink sweater. “I always
wondered what happened to the peanuts too,” she said.
“Me too,” said Bradley. “And they could have hid the
elephant in the garage. That’s why they put wallpaper there.
To cover up the fingerprints!”
“Do elephants have fingerprints?” asked Carla.
“Maybe they have trunk prints.” He laughed. “Well, I
have to go to Mrs. Ebbel’s class. Here’s your book back.
Thank you. I didn’t write on it or spill food or anything.”
“I’d like for you to keep it,” said Carla. “It’s my present
to you.”
“But I thought it was one of your favorite books?”
“It is. That’s why I want to give it to you. If I didn’t like
it, then it wouldn’t be much of a present, would it?”
He smiled. “I wish I had a present to give you,” he said.
“You already gave me one.”
“I did? What was it?”
“The book report.”
The smile left his face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Well, I’m supposed to give it to Mrs. Ebbel, but…that’s
okay! You can have it. It wouldn’t be much of a present if I
didn’t want it too.”
Carla laughed and shook her head. “That’s very sweet,
Bradley, but that’s not what I meant. I want you to give it to
Mrs. Ebbel. It just makes me very happy that you did such a
wonderful job. That’s the present you gave me.”
“Really?”
“Really,” said Carla. “It was the best present I could
have gotten.”
He thought that was great. He was able to give it to
Carla and still give it to Mrs. Ebbel. “What’s wrong?”
Carla wiped her eyes. The corners of her mouth
trembled.
“Are you crying?” he asked.
“Bradley, I have something I have to tell you,” she said.
“I hope you can listen to what I have to say without feeling
scared or upset.”
He suddenly felt very scared and upset.
“Tomorrow will be my last day here at Red Hill
School.”
“Huh?”
“That’s why I’m so glad you’ve written such a
wonderful book report. I know you can continue to do good
work without me. I’m very proud of you.”
“You’re leaving?”
She nodded. “I’ve been transferred. I’ll be teaching
kindergarten at Willow Bend School. But I want to thank you,
Bradley. You’ve made my short time here very special. I’m so
glad we got to know each other.”
“You’re leaving?”
“We can still see each other,” she said. “Saturday, I’m –
”
He shook his head. “No, you can’t go. It’s not fair.”
“I have to.”
He couldn’t believe it. “What if I don’t do my
homework? Then you’ll have to stay and make me want to do
it again.”
She smiled warmly at him. Her blue eyes glistened.
“You’re on your own now, Bradley. I know you’ll do
wonderfully!”
“No! It’s not fair!” He stood up. “You tricked me!”
Carla stood too. She walked around the table toward
him.
“I hate you!” he shouted in her face.
“I know you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. I hate your stupid book, too!” He picked up
My Parents Didn’t Steal an Elephant by Uriah C. Lasso and
threw it at her. Then he picked up his book report.
“Bradley, please – ”
He ripped it in half. He stretched his mouth so wide it
was hard to tell whether it was a smile or a frown.
He tore his book report again and dropped the pieces on
the floor. “I hate you!” he shouted, then ran out of her office.
He ran into the boys’ bathroom. He leaned over the sink
and cried. His face throbbed as he watched the water wash
down the drain.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Bradley?”
said Carla. “Are you all right?”
“Go away!” he yelled. “I hate you!”
The door slowly opened and she stepped inside.
“You’re not allowed in here,” he said.
“I think it’s important that we talk,” said Carla. “That’s
how friends handle their problems, by talking about them.
That’s why we’ve become such good friends, because we’ve
learned to talk to each other.”
“I’m not your friend. Why would I want to be friends
with you? I hate you!”
“I like you, Bradley. I can like you, can’t I? You don’t
have to like me.”
“I’m not going to Colleen’s birthday party,” he said.
“And I don’t like Jeff, either, and I’m never going to do my
homework, ever, and I’m going to fail all my tests.”
“Do you want to know what I think? I think you’re
worried that now that I’m leaving, everything will turn bad
again. You think that Jeff won’t like you anymore and Colleen
won’t want you to come to her party, and Mrs. Ebbel will give
you bad grades no matter how hard you try.”
“This is the boys’ bathroom!”
“But it wasn’t me who magically changed your life,
Bradley,” she said. “It was you. You’re not Cinderella, and I’m
not Prince Charming.”
“You’re not allowed in here,” he said coldly.
“Saturday, I’m going to need someone to help me move
all my things out of the office,” she said. “I would appreciate it
very much if you would come and help me. Then afterward,
we could have lunch together. We can go to a restaurant, just
the two of us.”
He wanted to go to her, to hug her in her soft pink
sweater, but he couldn’t. He felt like his insides were being
ripped apart.
“It will be lots of fun,” said Carla. “And it would be a
great help to me.”
“I have to use the toilet.”
“Maybe I’ll see you on Saturday,” said Carla. “I would
like that very much.” She turned and walked out the door.
Bradley stayed in the bathroom until the bell rang, then
he went home, sick.
R
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
39
onnie hopped along, singing, “doo de-doo de-doo dedoo.”
All the other animals were gathered together.
“What are you doing?” asked Ronnie.
“We’re talking,” said the lion.
“And you can’t listen,” said the kangaroo.
“Oh, okay,” said Ronnie. She waited for the other
animals to finish talking.
The other animals finished talking.
“We finished talking,” the lion told Ronnie. “We took a
vote. We don’t like you anymore.”
Ronnie hopped away. Suddenly, she fell into quicksand!
“Help!” she cried. “Bartholomew, save me!”
“No, I won’t,” said Bartholomew. “And I’m not going to
marry you either.”
Ronnie sank into the quicksand and died.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
40
radley’s mother took his temperature and told him he was
normal.
“I am not!” he argued.
“He’s not normal,” Claudia agreed. “He’s bizarre.”
Bradley felt as if his stomach were tied in a knot. Every
time he thought about Carla, he felt the knot pull tighter.
“I hate her! I hate her!” he repeated as he slowly walked
to school. When he said he hated her, the knot in his stomach
loosened just a little bit.
He sat at his desk in the back of Mrs. Ebbel’s room –
last seat, last row.
“Hi, Bradley,” said Jeff, sitting down next to him.
“Where were you yesterday? Were you sick?”
He didn’t answer. Jeff wasn’t his friend. He didn’t have
any friends.
“Bradley!” called Mrs. Ebbel. “Will you come here,
please?”
He dragged his feet to her desk. “I was sick yesterday,”
he told her. “Call my mother if you don’t believe me.”
Mrs. Ebbel waved that away. “I just wanted to tell you
how much I enjoyed your book report,” she said. “It made me
want to read the book.”
“Huh?”
“Miss Davis gave it to me yesterday,” Mrs. Ebbel told
him. “She explained how she accidentally ripped it.”
He stared at her, amazed, then noticed his book report,
taped together, lying on Mrs. Ebbel’s desk. At the very top, in
red ink, was the word Excellent!
“I gave you a gold star,” said Mrs. Ebbel.
He picked up his book report and ran back to his desk.
There it was – next to the name “Bradley Chalkers” – a
gold star! He slowly sat down as he stared at it. It seemed to
shine brighter than all the other stars.
The knot in his stomach jerked tight and he had to look
away. The star reminded him of Carla.
She’s such a liar, he thought. She said she accidentally
tore it up when I was the one who did it. I hate her. He shoved
his book report in the back of his desk.
The knot loosened.
He walked all recess. The other boys called to him from
the basketball court, but he pretended not to hear them. He just
kept walking.
Okay, he decided. I’ll go see her at lunch. I’ll just say
good-bye to her, that’s all.
“Everyone was looking for you to play basketball,” Jeff
said when he returned to class. “I told ’em you were still sick
from yesterday.”
“I’m not sick,” said Bradley. “I’m normal.”
When the bell rang for lunch, he walked to Mrs. Ebbel’s
desk to ask for the hall pass.
“Yes, Bradley?” she said.
He couldn’t talk. The knot in his stomach was so tight it
choked off his vocal cords.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked outside.
He sat in a far corner of the playground. Twice he thought he
saw Carla. The first time it was a third-grade girl. The second
time it was a tree. His stomach was too knotted up to eat
anything.
“I saw Carla,” Jeff told him after lunch. “I went to her
office to say good-bye. She said she’d like to see you. She said
she’d wait in her office after school for you in case you wanted
to talk to her. She asked me to tell you that.”
Bradley closed his eyes until the knot loosened.
“Don’t you even want to say good-bye to her?” Jeff
asked.
He shook his head.
He could picture her waiting in her office for him. He’d
walk in and she’d say, “Hello, Bradley. It’s a pleasure to see
you today. I appreciate your coming to see me.” She might
even kiss him again.
When the final bell rang, he walked directly home. The
knot inside him tightened with every step he took. I hate her! I
hate her! I hate her!
“L
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
41
et’s go, Bradley!” his mother said on Saturday
morning as she entered his room. “We’re off to a real
barber shop!” She said it as if a barber shop was the
most wonderful place in the world.
In the past, she had always cut Bradley’s hair herself.
But this time he had asked to go to a “real” barber shop. That
was earlier in the week, when they were out buying the
birthday present for Colleen. “You make my head look like a
chili bowl,” he had complained.
Now he sadly looked up at his mother and said, “I don’t
want to get my hair cut.”
“You want to look nice for Colleen’s birthday party
tomorrow, don’t you?” she asked. “You don’t want to go
looking like a punk rocker!”
“I’m not going to her birthday party!” he snapped. “I
hate her!”
Bradley’s mother left him alone.
He heard Carla’s voice in his mind. Saturday, I’m going
to need someone to help me move all my things out of the
office. I would appreciate it very much if you would come and
help me.
The knot in his stomach tightened.
“No. I hate you!” he said out loud.
His father knocked, then came into his room. “Bradley, I
think we need to talk,” he said, “man to man.”
Bradley stood up.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?” asked
his father. “Maybe I can help.”
Bradley didn’t want any help.
“I was very sorry to hear that your counselor had been
transferred to another school,” said his father. “I know how
much you liked her. At first I didn’t like the idea of you seeing
a counselor, but – ”
“I have to get my hair cut,” said Bradley. “Mom said
so.” He walked out of his room, leaving his father behind him.
His mother drove him to the barber shop.
Carla’s voice spoke in his mind. We could have lunch
together. We can go to a restaurant.
The knot pulled tighter.
Just the two of us.
And tighter.
It will be lots of fun, Carla said. And it would be a great
help to me.
And tighter.
Maybe I’ll see you on Saturday, said Carla. I would like
that very much.
And tighter.
You’re not Cinderella, and I’m not Prince Charming.
And tighter.
I like you, Bradley. I can like you, can’t I? You don’t
have to like me.
The knot pulled so tight, it broke. “Stop the car!” he
shouted. “I have to go back!”
The car swerved. “Don’t ever do that again!” exclaimed
his mother. “We could have had an accident.”
“I don’t believe in accidents.”
“I’m getting sick and tired of your nonsense, Bradley.
What is your problem?”
“I can’t get my hair cut now. I have to go to school.”
“On Saturday?”
“I’m supposed to see my counselor. She is waiting to
see me. Call the school if you don’t believe me.”
The car stopped in the parking lot in front of the barber
shop. “We’re here!” his mother said sternly. “You’re getting
your hair cut, now.”
He stepped out of the car and reluctantly followed his
mother into the barber shop.
It smelled oily, like hair and hair oil and stale bubble
gum all mixed together. All around him, mirrors reflected
mirrors. The place was ugly and the mirrors reflected the
ugliness, multiplying it a hundred times back and forth. They
seemed to reflect the awful smell too.
He couldn’t believe he had asked his mother to take him
to such a place. It was like some kind of horrible dungeon
where kids went to be tortured. But worst of all, he had to wait
his turn to be tortured. All the barber chairs were occupied.
He sat on a torn red couch.
“Do you want to read a comic book?” asked his mother.
“No thank you,” he answered quietly.
Finally, it was his turn. He climbed into a slippery, oily,
vinyl barber chair. The barber tied a shiny apron tightly around
his neck, nearly choking him to death.
The barber began by combing his hair. Bradley
wondered why he had to comb it if he was going to cut it
anyway.
At last, the barber picked up the scissors and began to
cut. But he never cut off a big piece of hair all at once. Instead
he kept snipping little bits of hair off of the same piece of hair,
over and over again. The whole time, Bradley had to stare at
himself through the filmy mirror. He gritted his teeth and
waited for it to be over.
The barber put down the scissors, but then he picked up
the comb and started combing again.
I knew he shouldn’t have combed it before, Bradley
thought. Now he just has to do it again.
The barber sprayed some kind of smelly junk on
Bradley’s head, combed his hair one last time, then unhooked
the apron around Bradley’s neck.
Bradley quickly hopped off the chair before the barber
could change his mind.
But the barber wasn’t through. He made Bradley stand
still while he ran a small vacuum cleaner across his neck.
When he finished, he offered Bradley a piece of bubble gum.
“I hate gum,” said Bradley. He never used to hate gum.
But after smelling it in the barber shop, he never wanted
another piece again.
“You’ll be the most handsome boy at Colleen’s party,”
his mother said as they walked outside.
“Can you drive me to school, please?” he asked.
She nodded.
Ten minutes later he jumped out of the car, ran up the
steps in front of the school, and pulled on the double glass
doors. They were locked. He pressed his face against the glass
and looked inside. Mrs. Kemp, the janitor, was waxing the
floors. He pounded on the door until she looked up.
Mrs. Kemp scowled at him as she opened the door.
“What do you want, Chalkers?”
“I have to see Car – Miss Davis,” he said.
“Miss Davis is gone.”
He ducked under her arm which held open the door, and
ran into the building.
“Chalkers!” she shouted after him. “I’ll call the police!”
He opened the door to Carla’s office and stepped inside.
Except for the round table and chairs, the room was empty.
But in his mind he heard Carla say, Hello, Bradley. It’s a
pleasure to see you today. I appreciate your coming to see me.
Tears rolled down his face.
He noticed a large manila envelope lying on the table.
He picked it up.
BRADLEY CHALKERS was written across it in big
letters. Under that, in smaller letters, was the following:
Mrs. Ebbel’s class Room 12 Good friend, Honest,
Thoughtful, Caring, Polite, Whom I will never forget,
And who I hope Will someday Forgive me Last seat, last
row
“There you are!” said Mrs. Kemp as she came in after
him. “If you don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to call
the police.”
“Look!” he exclaimed, holding up the envelope. “She
left this for me. See! We were friends. Carla and me. We were
best friends.”
“You have ten seconds to leave this building,” said Mrs.
Kemp. “One…two…”
He took the envelope and left.
He opened it on the playground, next to the monkey
bars. Inside was the book My Parents Didn’t Steal an
Elephant, by Uriah C. Lasso, and a letter.
Dear Bradley,
This book was a present from me to you. It was a
gift from the heart, and that kind of gift, for better or
worse, can never be returned.
I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to. If it
makes you feel any better, you hurt me, too, when you
didn’t come see me Friday or Saturday. I kept hoping I’d
see your happy face walk through the door.
I hope you didn’t mind that I gave your book report
to Mrs. Ebbel. It was just too good to throw away. You
can do such wonderful work. Now, if only you can learn
how not to rip it up.
I hope you went to Colleen’s birthday party. If you
did, I’m sure you enjoyed it. If you didn’t go, that’s all
right too. There will be lots of other parties. You’re a very
likable person. You’ll always be very special to me.
It was always a pleasure to see you. I appreciated
your coming to see me. Thank you for sharing so much
with me.
I love you,
Carla
Bradley’s father was leaning on his cane, on the front
stoop, when Bradley came walking home. “I want to talk to
you, Bradley,” he said sternly.
Bradley ran to him and hugged him, nearly knocking
him over.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
42
radley tried writing a letter to Carla. His father had
suggested it. He crumpled up a piece of paper and threw
it in his wastepaper basket. He didn’t know what to say
to her. The words he wanted hadn’t been invented yet.
Ronnie hopped along, singing, “doo de-doo de-doo dedoo.”
The other animals were taking another vote.
“We took another vote,” the lion told Ronnie. “We like
you the best.”
“I like all of you the best too,” said Ronnie.
Bartholomew walked up to her. “I love you, Ronnie,” he
said. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” said Ronnie.
“And I saved you from the quicksand too,” said
Bartholomew, “so you didn’t die.”
“That’s good,” said Ronnie. “I’m very glad to hear that.”
C
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
43
olleen, wearing a new red dress, anxiously waited for her
guests to arrive. Except for Lori and Melinda, she hadn’t
told anybody that there would be boys at her party.
The doorbell rang.
Her heart jumped. She hoped it would be Jeff and also
hoped it wouldn’t be. She composed herself and opened the
door.
It was Judy and Betty. They each gave her a present.
“Ooh, what is it?” Colleen asked as she took each gift, but of
course they didn’t tell her.
“Who else is coming?” asked Judy as the three girls sat
and waited in the living room.
Colleen counted on her fingers, naming her guests.
“Well, there’s you two, and Lori and Melinda, Karen, Amie
and Dena…” She paused, then said the last two names very
quickly, “andJeffandBradley.”
“Bradley?” questioned Betty. “Bradley Chalkers? Oh,
no!”
Judy looked like she was about to faint.
“You didn’t say there were going to be boys at your
party,” said Betty.
“Didn’t I?” Colleen asked innocently. “I thought I did.”
“I don’t think I’m allowed to go to a boy and girl party,”
said Judy.
“Okay, but you already gave me my present,” said
Colleen.
They decided to stay. When the bell rang again, all three
girls screamed, but it was only Amie and Dena.
Amie and Dena were dressed exactly alike, right down
to their shoes and socks. They were best friends and their
parents often took them shopping together. They always
bought the same clothes. Then, before a party, or even just
before school sometimes, they’d call each other up and decide
what to wear. Today it was a blue dress with white-and-yellow
flowery things.
“Colleen invited boys!” Betty told them.
“Bradley Chalkers!” said Judy.
Amie and Dena looked at each other in horror. Colleen
took their presents from them, before they could change their
minds. Both presents were wrapped in the same purple-andgreen
paper.
Karen was the next to arrive. “Colleen invited boys!”
everyone said to her as she stood in the doorway.
Her mouth dropped open.
“Bradley Chalkers,” said Betty.
“And the new kid,” said Amie. “Jeff Fishfood.”
Karen was very shy and quiet. If there were going to be
boys at the party, she might not say one word all day.
The doorbell rang. Everyone except Karen screamed.
She held a pillow in front of her face.
It was Lori and Melinda.
“Colleen invited boys!” everyone greeted them.
“Jeff Fishnose and Bradley Chalkers,” said Dena.
“So, we already knew that,” Lori said, as if it were no
big deal to her.
“Oh, well, nobody else did,” said Judy.
The eight girls waited. They talked and laughed about
how much Colleen would like her presents. They asked her
what there would be to eat and what games they would play.
The one thing they didn’t talk about was boys, though it was
the only thing on each of their minds.
When Colleen told Dena there would be a three-legged
race, the room turned very quiet. Each girl wondered if she
would have to run it with a boy.
Colleen planned to run the three-legged race with Jeff. It
didn’t occur to her that if she was partners with Jeff, another
girl would have to be partners with Bradley.
It was starting to get late. A new worry slowly crept into
each girl’s head. What if the boys didn’t show up? It suddenly
seemed that the party wouldn’t be any fun at all without boys.
Where were they?
Colleen’s mother walked into the living room and
counted heads. “Eight,” she said aloud. “Who’s missing?”
Nobody answered.
“Oh, the boys,” said Colleen’s mother. “Well, we can’t
wait too much longer.”
Colleen looked like she was about to cry.
Where were they?
T
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
44
he doorbell rang at Bradley’s house.
Bradley, wearing a cone-shaped party hat, ran to
the front door and flung it open. He had a wild look in his
eyes.
“Hi,” said Jeff, holding Colleen’s present under his arm.
“You ready?” He was wearing old, comfortable clothes. His
blue jeans had a small hole above the knee.
“It’s wrapped!” Bradley exclaimed. “With a bow!”
“Wha – ?” uttered Jeff.
Bradley ran back to his parents’ bedroom. “It’s got to be
wrapped!” he told his mother. “With a bow!”
She cut off a piece of tape and smiled at her son. “I’m
wrapping it now.”
“Okay, good!” He returned to the front door. “My
mother’s wrapping it now,” he told Jeff.
He had been running around the house that way all
morning as he desperately tried to get ready for the birthday
party. He’d already changed his clothes six times. He didn’t
know what he was supposed to wear. He didn’t know what he
was supposed to do. He didn’t know what he didn’t know!
Claudia had given him the party hat to wear. She told
him he wasn’t allowed to take it off.
“They wrapped my present at the store where I got it,”
Jeff said.
Bradley hardly heard him. “Are you supposed to wear
torn pants?” he asked.
“What?”
He ran into the kitchen. He took a sharp knife from the
drawer next to the sink and cut a hole in his pants, just above
the knee.
When he returned to the front door, Jeff was standing
inside the house. Claudia was with him. “Is my hat on
straight?” Bradley asked his sister.
She looked him over. “It’s hard to tell,” she explained,
“because your head’s crooked.”
Mrs. Chalkers came down the hall holding Colleen’s
present in front of her. “See, all wrapped,” she said. “Hello,
you must be Jeff. I’m Bradley’s mother.”
“Hello, Mrs. Chalkers,” said Jeff.
“It doesn’t have a bow!” Bradley shouted.
“Oh, I couldn’t find any ribbon,” said his mother.
He stared at her in disbelief. “It needs a bow!” he
wailed. He turned to Jeff. “Doesn’t it need a bow?”
“No.”
“Oh, okay,” he said happily. He took the present from
his mother. She kissed him and told him to have fun.
He and Jeff started out the door.
“Oh, Bradley,” said his mother, “you ripped your pants.”
“I know.” He closed the door.
They headed up the sidewalk toward Colleen’s. She
lived two blocks away.
“Do you want my bow?” Jeff asked. “I can take it off.”
Bradley nervously shook his head.
“Are you all right?” Jeff asked.
“Umukum,” said Bradley. He had tried to say “I’m
okay,” but his mouth didn’t work.
“You’re acting kind of strange,” said Jeff, “even for you,
I mean.”
Bradley sighed and stopped walking.
“What’s the matter?” Jeff asked.
Bradley trembled. He felt the same way as when he first
tried to turn in his homework. “I don’t know what to do at a
birthday party,” he said, shivering.
Jeff laughed.
Bradley sat down on the curb. “I haven’t been to one in
three years!”
Jeff looked impatiently up the street, then sat down next
to his best friend. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said
assuringly. “Birthday parties are fun.”
“How many birthday parties have you been to?” Bradley
asked.
Jeff shrugged. “A lot. What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Okay,” said Jeff. “First take off that dumb hat!”
So, while the eight girls anxiously waited, Jeff was
patiently trying to teach Bradley everything he knew about
birthday parties.
B
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
45
radley watched Jeff poke his finger into the doorbell and
heard it ring inside the house. Then there was a loud
scream. A moment later Colleen opened the door.
“Hap-py birthd – ” he sang, but stopped when Jeff
elbowed him in his side.
“This is for you,” Jeff said, handing Colleen his present.
“This is for you,” said Bradley as he did the same.
“Ooh, what is it?” she asked.
“It’s a – ” Bradley started, but Jeff elbowed him again,
so he shut his mouth. They followed Colleen into the house.
“You’re not supposed to tell her what you got her,” Jeff
whispered.
“But she asked.”
“She’s supposed to ask. But you’re not supposed to tell
her. Don’t tell anyone.”
Bradley nodded like he understood, but of course he
didn’t.
“Hello, Bradley,” said Melinda.
He looked to Jeff for help.
“Hello, Melinda,” said Jeff.
“Hello, Melinda,” said Bradley.
Colleen’s mother came in and led everyone out to the
backyard. A picnic table had been set up on the patio with
paper plates and cups. Bradley chose a seat and sat down.
“My, this boy must be hungry!” said Colleen’s mother.
The girls laughed.
Bradley looked around, puzzled. He was the only one
sitting down. He quickly rose, bumping against the table. A
paper cup fell onto the ground. As he bent down to pick it up,
he knocked over his chair.
The girls were hysterical. Bradley looked around
helplessly. Amie picked up the cup and Dena set the chair
right.
“We don’t eat yet,” Jeff explained as Bradley made it
safely away from the table. “First we have to play games.”
Bradley turned pale.
“Just do whatever I do,” said Jeff.
A large dog dashed out through the back door and
jumped up on Bradley, putting his muddy paws on his clean
shirt. Bradley nearly fell over.
“Chicken, get down!” scolded Colleen’s mother.
Chicken had wiry red hair and a square face. He got
down, but stayed by Bradley’s side.
“Chicken’s usually afraid of everybody,” said Colleen.
Bradley patted his head, glad Chicken liked him.
Mrs. Verigold split the group into two teams for a relay
race. She put Jeff and Bradley on separate teams because she
said it wouldn’t be fair for the two boys to be together.
Bradley lined up with the other members of his team.
He was in the middle. Amie and Betty were in front of him.
Judy and Dena were behind him.
On the other team, Jeff was talking to Colleen. Bradley
wondered if he should talk to one of the girls on his team, but
he didn’t know what to say. Besides, they were all talking to
each other. He petted Chicken.
“On your mark,” said Mrs. Verigold, “get set…go!”
Suddenly the race started and everyone on his team was
screaming. “C’mon, Amie!”
“Go!”
“Run, Amie!”
“Faster!”
He watched Amie run and touch a tree at the end of the
yard, then turn around and come back. She slapped Betty’s
hand, then Betty ran toward the tree.
“Run, Betty!” everyone except Bradley shouted. “Slow
down, Betty,” he whispered to himself, hoping his turn would
never come.
He turned around. Judy was behind him, yelling to
Betty. “Do you want to go next?” he asked her.
“Stick your hand out!” she hollered back.
He spun around and stuck his hand out just in time.
Betty slapped it and he took off. He ran as hard as he could to
the tree.
“Go, Bradley!” he heard someone yell. “C’mon,
Bradley!” It made him want to run faster than he’d ever run
before. Chicken barked at his side.
Melinda was running for the other team. She had started
before him, but he beat her to the tree. He almost slipped and
fell, but caught his balance and charged back toward his
cheering teammates.
“C’mon, Bradley!” they all yelled.
He slapped Judy’s hand, then bent over to catch his
breath. He turned and shouted louder than anyone, “Go, Judy!
Run!” then, “C’mon, Dena!”
Dena crossed the finish line and everyone on his team
jumped up and down.
“What happened?” he asked.
“We won!” said Betty.
He jumped up and down too.
“That means we each get two points,” said Judy.
That was something new. Jeff hadn’t told him anything
about points.
Judy explained it to him. “Everybody on the winning
team gets two points, and everybody on the losing team gets
one point.”
Betty interrupted. “It would come out the same if they
just gave one point to the winners and nothing to the losers,”
she said, “but this way the losers don’t feel as bad.”
“I’m telling him!” said Judy. “After each race we trade
teams, and then at the end of all the races, Colleen’s mother
counts up the points and the girl with the most points gets first
pick from the basket of prizes. Then the girl with the second
most gets second pick, and so on.”
“Colleen’s mother has a chart with everyone’s name on
it to keep track of the points,” explained Betty.
“I’m telling him!” said Judy. “Colleen’s mother has a
chart.”
Bradley laughed with delight. “Are all birthday parties
this much fun?” he asked.
Judy and Betty looked at each other. The only thing that
made this party special was the boys, but they couldn’t tell that
to Bradley.
“Haven’t you ever been to a birthday party before?”
asked Betty.
“Not for a long time. I got kicked out of the last one I
went to.”
“Well, if you have any questions, just ask me,” said
Betty.
“Or me,” said Judy.
“I’ve been to more birthday parties than you,” said
Betty.
“You have not!” said Judy. “She hasn’t.”
“What about Holly’s birthday party?” asked Betty. “You
didn’t go to that one.”
“That’s because we were on vacation,” said Judy.
“So, you still didn’t go.”
They had to switch teams for the next relay race. This
time Bradley was with Betty, Amie, Karen, and Melinda. For
this race, everyone had to hop on one foot.
“On one foot!” Bradley exclaimed.
He rooted loudly for everyone on his team, and when it
was his turn, he heard them all cheer for him. His team won
again.
“You’re an excellent hopper, Melinda,” he said after the
race. “You hopped twice as far as Colleen on each hop.”
Melinda beamed. “You’re a good hopper too,” she said.
Colleen’s mother marked the points on the chart, and
they switched teams for the next race. This time they had to
hop on both feet.
“On both feet!” Bradley exclaimed.
They continued changing teams for each new race. He
and Jeff were never allowed on the same team, and since
Colleen always made sure that she was on Jeff’s team, Bradley
was never with her either.
He was glad about that. He felt comfortable with
everybody else, but he was still a little scared of Colleen. He
was afraid she might ask him another question he wasn’t
supposed to answer.
Lori was on his team for the backward race. She stood
behind him in line and screamed in his ear the whole time. He
loved it. He had to shout twice as loud just to hear himself.
His ear was still ringing when Mrs. Verigold announced
that the next race would be a somersault race.
The smile left his face. He didn’t know how to do a
somersault! He looked anxiously at Chicken.
But as it turned out, nobody on his team could do a
somersault! It was hilarious. Everyone was laughing. When it
was his turn, he rolled and flopped in every direction except
the way he was supposed to go. And every time he hit the
ground, Chicken tried to lick his face. Perhaps he would have
done better if he could have stopped laughing.
Everybody on the other team was good at somersaults.
The teams just worked out that way. Karen was the best.
“You should be in the Olympics!” he told her after the
race.
She smiled and blushed.
Bradley smiled too. Even though his team lost, he
thought it had been the most fun race of the day.
Plus, when the girls somersaulted in their party dresses,
he could see their underwear.
C
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
46
olleen’s mother told everyone to find a partner for the
three-legged race. Jeff and Colleen looked nervously at
each other.
Judy and Betty paired up. They stood side by side with
their arms around each other’s shoulders as Mrs. Verigold tied
their inside legs together.
Lori and Melinda became another team. Bradley thought
they looked funny since Melinda was almost twice Lori’s size.
Amie and Dena looked even funnier. Since they were
both dressed the same, they looked like a two-headed monster.
Except, of course, he didn’t believe in monsters.
Karen suddenly realized what was happening. If Jeff and
Colleen became partners, it meant she’d have to be partners
with Bradley!
“So, um,” Jeff said to Colleen. “Who’s your partner?”
“No one, yet,” said Colleen. “Who’s yours?”
“No one, yet.”
Colleen’s mother stepped in and paired up the final two
teams. She didn’t think it would be proper for a boy and a girl
to have their legs tied together, so she made Jeff and Bradley
one team, and Colleen and Karen the other.
Bradley was glad that he and Jeff were finally on the
same team. Colleen and Jeff were happy with the teams too.
As much as they liked each other, they weren’t quite ready to
put their arms around each other and tie their legs together.
Karen was the only one who was disappointed. She thought it
would have been exciting to have been partners with Bradley.
The five teams lined up. It wasn’t a relay race. Each
team would go at the same time. They had to run past the tree
to the fence, then back.
“Don’t try to run too fast,” Jeff cautioned. “The most
important thing is that we keep together so we don’t fall
down.”
Bradley nodded.
“On your mark,” said Mrs. Verigold. “Get set…go!”
They took two steps, then tumbled to the ground.
As they tried to get up, they kept pulling each other back
down. At last they stood up together and started after the
others.
“Inside, outside, inside, outside…” Jeff directed as they
moved their legs in unison.
The other teams took a long time turning around at the
fence. When Jeff and Bradley reached the fence, they simply
fell down again and stood up facing the other direction. It was
quicker that way.
Amie and Dena were just ahead of them. Amie tried to
go to the left of the tree as Dena tried to go to the right of it.
They smashed into it.
“Inside, outside, inside, outside…” said Jeff as he and
Bradley charged around them.
Karen and Colleen were in the lead when they suddenly
stumbled and fell on their faces. Judy and Betty tumbled over
them.
Lori and Melinda had to stop and turn to avoid the pile.
Jeff and Bradley charged past, now in first place.
“Inside, outside, inside, outside…” called Jeff, but they must
have missed a beat somewhere because when he said,
“Inside,” they moved their outside feet, and when he said,
“Outside,” they moved their inside feet.
“Hey, Bradley, you’re going the wrong way!” yelled
Lori.
“Whoa, ahhh blbph!”
Amie and Dena dived across the finish line in first
place, just ahead of Lori and Melinda. Jeff and Bradley
crawled across in third. Judy, Betty, Karen, and Colleen
remained tangled together on the grass.
After everyone got untied, they gathered on the grass
next to the patio. “Now what?” Bradley asked nobody in
particular.
“Colleen’s mother is adding up the points,” said Betty.
“Then we’ll get to pick our prizes,” said Judy.
“He asked me!” said Betty.
Everyone hushed as Mrs. Verigold prepared to announce
the winner. “The winner is…” – she paused suspensefully –
“…Bradley!”
He was shocked. He had been on the winning team
every time except for the three-legged race and the somersault
race, but he had been having too much fun to notice.
Everyone clapped their hands as he walked to the front.
Mrs. Verigold gave him a blue ribbon that said First Place on
it. No one had told him about the ribbon. Then he got to pick a
prize.
He looked through the basket. There were lots of good
things from which to choose: dolls, makeup, perfume,
earrings, hair ornaments. He chose a harmonica.
Melinda came in second. Then Amie, Judy, Dena,
Karen, Lori, and Betty, and Jeff was last.
Jeff knew he’d be last, since he was never on Bradley’s
team. The only race he won was the somersault race. Actually,
he had tied for last with Colleen, but Colleen didn’t get a prize
because she’d be getting all her presents later.
Jeff took the only prize left in the basket, a doll’s dress.
“Thank you,” he said politely.
“Now what?” Bradley asked.
“We have ice cream and cake,” said Melinda.
“Oh boy,” said Bradley.
Melinda laughed.
They sat at the picnic table. Colleen sat at the head of
the table. Bradley sat between Jeff and Melinda. Judy and
Betty sat across from him.
“Mrs. Verigold’s going to bring in the cake now,” said
Judy.
“With candles,” said Betty.
“I’m telling him!” said Judy. “With candles.”
Mrs. Verigold brought in the cake and suddenly
everyone started singing. Bradley was caught by surprise. He
didn’t have time to remember the words, though he tried. He
sang:
Hap-py birth-day dear Col – to you.
Hap-py birth-day to you.
Hap-py birth-day to y – Dear Colleen,
Hap-py birth-day dea – to you,
Hap-py birth-day to – ”
He suddenly realized he was the only one still singing.
Everyone laughed.
“It’s not his fault,” said Judy. “This is his first birthday
party in a long time.”
“There are ten candles because she’s ten years old,”
explained Betty.
“Oh, I get it!” said Bradley.
Lori laughed.
Colleen blew them all out.
“That means her wish will come true,” explained
Melinda.
“But she can’t tell you what she wished for, otherwise it
won’t come true,” Lori explained.
Bradley carefully ate his cake and ice cream, without
making a mess. Then everyone went into the living room,
where Colleen opened her presents.
“Open mine!”
“Mine first,” they urged. “That one’s mine!”
“Open mine, Colleen,” said Bradley.
After each present was opened, everyone said, “How
neat,” and “Ooh,” and “I wish I had one of those.”
Bradley said those things too, and he meant what he
said, although most of the gifts were things he never would
have wanted.
Colleen picked up the next present.
“That’s mine!” he shouted.
Colleen read the card. On the front of the card there was
a picture of a baseball player swinging a baseball bat. It said,
“Here’s hoping your birthday is…” On the inside of the card it
showed the bat smacking a ball and it said, “a big hit!” Under
that it said, “Happy Birthday,” and it was signed, Love,
Bradley.
Everyone went crazy. “Love!” exclaimed Amie.
“Love?”
Bradley’s heart sank as he realized he had made a
terrible mistake.
“Bradley’s in love with Colleen!” said Dena.
“Oooh, Bradley,” said Judy.
“When are you getting married?” teased Lori.
“Shut up!” Karen shouted.
Everyone stopped talking and looked at her very
surprised.
“Big deal!” said Karen. “You’re all so immature.”
Colleen tore off the wrapping paper and looked at
Bradley’s gift. Her mouth dropped open. She showed it to
everyone.
“Wow!” said Lori.
“Let me see!” said Amie.
It was a replica of the human heart. They could see all
the blood vessels, the aorta, and all the capillaries. The heart
valves opened and shut. It could be taken apart and put back
together again.
“How neat!” said Melinda.
“I wish I had one of those,” said Betty.
Bradley smiled proudly. He felt happier about the fact
that Colleen liked his present than about coming in first place.
But, of course, he knew all along she’d like it. Carla had told
him to give her a gift from the heart.
Colleen opened the rest of the presents, then everyone
went home.
Jeff and Bradley left together. It was still light outside,
although the street lights had come on.
“So?” asked Jeff.
“Wasn’t that fun!” Bradley exclaimed. “It was the most,
at first when I gave Colleen her present and she asked me what
it was, I almost told her! And then when I was the only one
sitting at the table, ‘My this boy must be hungry,’ but then the
races started and everyone got points, even the losers. Only
next time I won’t sign it love. Karen’s a good somersaulter.
Chicken’s a funny name for a dog. Maybe if they get a
chicken, they’ll name it Dog!”
He blew into his harmonica.
The doll’s dress dangled from Jeff’s hand.
∨ There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom ∧
47
Dear Carla,
Hi. What color shirt are you wearing today? I’m
sorry I yelled at you. Guess what? I got a hundred percent
on my arithmetic test. Can you believe it? And I didn’t
rip it up! I would have sent it to you, but I can’t because
it’s hanging on a wall in Mrs. Ebbel’s class. Do you like
teaching kindergarten? I bet you’re a good teacher. Ask
them to draw pictures for you. You should teach them
how to do somersaults, too. Thanks for giving me back
the book which you already gave me. I’m sending you a
present too. It’s a gift from the heart, so you can’t return
it.
Love,
Yours truly,
Love,
Bradley
P.S. Her name is Ronnie.
Bradley folded the letter and put it in the envelope. He
wrote Carla’s name on the outside and addressed it to Willow
Bend School.
Ronnie gave Bartholomew a big hug and kiss.
“Well, good-bye everybody,” she said.
“Good-bye, Ronnie,” said everybody.
“I’ll miss you,” said Bartholomew.
Bradley placed the little red rabbit with the broken ear
inside the envelope.
He stared out his window for a moment, then looked
back down at the bulge in the envelope. He frowned. But it
was an unusual frown. In fact, it might have been a smile.__
The End
ThEnd