I was exhausted Monday morning, and my feet still hurt from pounding the Manhattan pavement, but I felt great. I was back in Garrettsville, where I was popular at school, where Jessica seemed to like me as much as I liked her, and where I had made so many friends. Best of all, summer was only a month away. As I rode to school that morning, I looked out the window thinking that things had never been better. Little did I guess that someone even more frightening than Josh or Toby or Rocco was about to turn my life upside down for the rest of the school year.
Walking in the hallway before class, I was busy telling the fellas of my adventures in New York when Rishi interrupted.
“I still haven’t told you the big news. . . .”
“Rishi, close your mouth!” It was Mrs. Lutzkraut shouting at us. “And, Rodney,” she continued, “I don’t think there’s anything special about playing hooky from school so you can run around a city.” Evidently she had been spying on our conversation. As we stood in the crowded hallway, she glanced up and waved her hand. “Mr. Feebletop, can I have a word, please?”
“Yes, Mrs. Lutzkraut. What can I do for you?”
“Rodney,” she snapped. “Come over here.” I walked past the line of students in the hall and stood before the two of them. Mrs. Lutzkraut’s eyes twinkled slightly before she began. “Mr. Feebletop, it has just come to my attention that Mr. Rathbone here was absent Friday to go on vacation. I thought you ought to know about it, since you’ve been trying to enforce a strict attendance policy.”
Mr. Feebletop sighed and looked like he was upset that he had to deal with this. “Mrs. Lutzkraut is right, Rodney. Attendance is an issue.”
Mrs. Lutzkraut interrupted, “What do you intend to do, Mr. Feebletop?”
He looked down at me and shook his head. “You know, Rodney, we just got over the basketball incident with Mrs. Whiner.”
Again Lutzkraut interrupted. “Mr. Feebletop, on the phone his mother distinctly said he had laryngitis. She lied to me. . . .”
“I wish you had laryngitis!” my mouth exploded. It just came out. I didn’t like anyone calling my mom a liar.
“Unacceptable, Rodney!” Mr. Feebletop yelled. It was the first time I had seen him mad like that and I knew I was in for it. “Go to my office right now.” He turned and stormed off toward the lobby.
Mrs. Lutzkraut gave me a sickening smirk as she led the class toward room 217.
“That was dumb, Rodney,” Jessica whispered as she walked by. “Now you’ll probably miss all the fun end-of-year events coming up.”
“Jessica!” Mrs. Lutzkraut hollered. Jessica didn’t look up to reply. She just tucked her head down and hightailed it, leaving me alone.
Mr. Feebletop was swiveling in his chair, looking back at his picture of Tom Seaver. When I came in, he turned around and had a stern look on his face. “Rodney, you should know better. You must be respectful to adults. You crossed the line and did it right in front of me.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Feebletop. Sometimes my mouth kind of acts on its own.”
“Yes, well, a big mouth gets you into trouble, and before we discuss what you said, we should talk about your little vacation. There’s plenty of time in the summer to go away. It’s not acceptable to just pick up, pretend you’re sick, and shoot off. . . .”
“I know,” I explained, “but I had a chance to visit my great-aunt in New York. She bought tickets for me and some friends to see the Mets at Citi Field.”
Suddenly he was on his feet, practically leaning over the desk. “You saw the Mets?”
“Yep. It was awesome. And I kind of got you a souvenir.”
“Souvenir?” He tried to keep a straight face but I noticed a faint smile begin to appear.
“I got you this.”
I reached into my jacket pocket and flipped him the baseball. He caught it, examined it, and fell back in his seat with a gasp. His hands began shaking. Then I noticed his eyes start to tear up. He opened his mouth to speak but could form no words. Finally, after hyperventilating for a bit, he cleared his throat and read, “‘To my greatest fan, Mr. Feebletop. All the best! Tom Seaver’.”
“I knew you would like it,” I told him, “but I’m sorry I had to give it to you today, I mean, after getting you mad and everything. I really am sorry for mouthing off like that in the hallway.”
“Well, Rodney, I know these things happen,” he said, regaining a bit of his composure, “and I know you feel bad. Let me think about a punishment. Right now, though, I have to address the school regarding field day. I think you’ll like what you hear. Despite today’s, um, unfortunate incident, I made a decision last week that involves you, and I am going to stick to it. Now hurry back to homeroom. And Rodney . . .”
“Yes, Mr. Feebletop?”
“Was Tom Seaver nice? Did you tell him about me? Did he mention Eddie Kranepool . . .”
“Mr. Feebletop,” a secretary called from the door, “the announcements.”
“Oh, quite so. Now, where was I?”
I walked into class and sat down at my desk. Seeing me, Mrs. Lutzkraut flashed a twisted grin. “Rodney, I’ve just finished telling the class that next Friday is field day, and that participation is a privilege. Not everybody needs to participate.” She wasn’t finished. Armed with the knowledge that she’d finally gotten me, and thoroughly enjoying the moment, she twirled a sharp pencil around between her fingers. “I think on field day, while you’re sitting in the principal’s office, it would be a good time for you to write an essay about responsibility.” She was sure Mr. Feebletop had suspended me from participating. The next thing I heard was his voice on the loudspeaker.
“Good morning, Baber! What a glorious morning!” Mrs. Lutzkraut stared at the speaker with a smile as he continued. “I wanted to make a few announcements before the morning pledge. As most of you already know, next Friday is field day. The school will be divided by class into two teams, white and blue. The following classes are on the white team. . . .” He rattled off a list. We were on the blue team. Then he continued. “This year we have a special treat for one class of the winning team. This year it’s Ms. Dearing’s class for the white and Mrs. Lutzkraut’s for the blue. The winner of field day will be going to . . . Super Adventure amusement park!” The class erupted into a cheer. I wasn’t really sure what Super Adventure was, but I noticed Jessica was clapping and Rishi was practically jumping to the ceiling.
“Rodney! That’s the big news I’ve been trying to tell you. My mom’s on the PTA field day committee, and . . .”
“Rishi,” Mrs. Lutzkraut cut in, “I’m sorry to break this to you, but the way Mr. Feebletop punishes unruly students late in the year is by making them sit in his office for field day. It’s a shame, but I imagine that this is what Rodney just learned for himself.” The fake sorrow in her voice was nauseating. “And if he can’t participate, then he can’t be on the winning team, which means no Super Adventure for him.”
Rishi slumped down in his chair and Jessica’s eyes looked wet. Toby, however, looked like he’d just won the Lotto jackpot.
“One more thing,” Mr. Feebletop’s voice crackled above us. “I forgot to announce this year’s honorary field day captains. For the blue team, the one leading the squad, I have selected Baber’s newest star pupil, Rodney Rathbone! Way to go, Rodney! The white captain . . .”
I couldn’t hear Mr. Feebletop continue because my class was cheering and jumping up and down. Mrs. Lutzkraut’s face turned as red as an apple and the pencil in her hand snapped in half. As if in a trance, she turned and gazed out the window, one side of her face twitching up and down. She was muttering to herself now, almost like she was talking to someone on the other side of the windowpane. Rishi twirled his finger by the side of his head.
What happened next was just as strange. All at once, Mrs. Lutzkraut relaxed. She became calm and serene, but as she turned back to class I saw a bizarre gleam in her eye, one I’d never witnessed before.
“Children, take out your math books, open them to page 372. . . .” Her voice was softer than usual, a welcome break to the rest of the class . . . but I wasn’t so sure.
For most of the morning she remained quiet, sitting at her desk wiping a tiny spot over and over again. Finally the clock hit twelve thirty. Lunchtime. We lined up as usual, but instead of leading us down the corridor, Mrs. Lutzkraut called across the hall. “Ms. Dearing, would you mind walking my class down to the cafeteria with yours? I need a few moments to congratulate my class’s new field day captain.”
“No problem,” Ms. Dearing replied sweetly. “Well done, Rodney. You must be very proud of him, Mrs. Lutzkraut.”
“Oh . . . proud isn’t the word for it!” she answered, smiling widely. Ms. Dearing nodded and led the classes away. For a moment we watched the lines disappear around the bend in the hall.
“Let’s step inside, shall we?” I walked back in, feeling a peculiar sense of dread, worse than all the other senses of dread I’d experienced so often in my life. “Close the door, will you, Rodney?” I gulped but did what she asked.
She had returned to her desk, and while she still smiled, it did nothing to calm my anxiety. She reminded me of a vampire, happy that she had a young, sweet victim all to herself. “Come closer, I won’t bite.” My heart pounded in my chest. “I just wanted to congratulate you. I realize that Mr. Feebletop, in his infinite wisdom, has bestowed a notable honor on you. Not such a big deal to you, though, right? You seem capable of so many wonderful things, like wrapping our esteemed principal around your little finger.” Her voice, dripping with sarcasm, flowed out through a perfectly gleeful and evil veil. “I hope you’re enjoying it. I hope you have enjoyed it all, because as of now, everything good in your life ends.”
I eyed the door. “Oh no,” she continued. “Running won’t save you. Rodney, you are what is known as a bad seed. Most of the fools around here don’t see it, but I do. And do you know what I do when I find a bad seed?” She moved a step closer.
I opened my mouth, but was too scared to say anything.
“What? No smart-aleck remark? I’m disappointed in you.” She was twirling something silver in her hand that looked like scissors. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she muttered. I got ready to jump out the window. “I’m going to enjoy this last month of school,” she continued. “I will be savoring each and every day.” The scissors flashed in the light and I realized it was just a silver pen, but my fear rose anyway as she took yet another step closer. Finally she leaned right over me. “Now get out! Go have a nice lunch, captain.”