The Box

Field Day is supposed to be fun. You get to play all kinds of games outdoors and cheer for your team.

But this year, in third grade?

Field Day turned into a war of trouble and revenge.

It all started yesterday morning with a box. A big brown box.

Our teacher, Mrs. Flaubert (who used to be Miss Mackle before she got married), dropped us off for gym class. “Please go to your spots,” she said, “and wait for Mr. Deltoid.”

Spots are colored places on our gym floor about the size of a Frisbee. We each have one. My friend Harry, who likes to do crazy horrible things, raced down the ramp as usual to his yellow spot. He jumped high in the air like he was dunking a basket. Ida leaped and twirled around Harry until she did a final pirouette on her space.

Mary placed her feet on her red spot perfectly so both sneakers fit inside. As soon as Song Lee and Sidney got to their spots, Mary glanced at the wall clock.

“Hey, Doug,” she said. “Looks like Mr. Deltoid is late again. I bet he’s getting coffee in the cafeteria.”

“And a cookie,” I added. “It’s that time of morning when Mrs. Funderburke is baking. Can you smell chocolate?”

“Yes!” Mary said, taking a deep whiff. “Chocolate chip cookies are on our lunch menu.”

When Mary giggled, I did too.

Mrs. Flaubert was waiting at the top of the ramp. She was not giggling.

“Harry!” she called out. “No headstands!”

Harry did a somersault instead.

“Harry Spooger!” our teacher snapped. “You need a mat for that!”

“You’ll break your back,” Mary added.

“Just warming up for Field Day tomorrow!” he said, racing in place.

Mrs. Flaubert folded her arms and waited for Mr. Deltoid.

Finally, he showed up, four minutes late. There was a chocolatey smudge near the corner of his lip, and a coffee stain on his gray sweatshirt.

Mary and I put two thumbs up.

Our teacher gave the gym teacher a quick nod, then took off.

“Hey, boys and girls!” Mr. Deltoid exclaimed as he jogged down the ramp. “I’ve got the biggest news for you!”

We all listened up.

“Tomorrow, as you know, is South School’s Field Day.”

Mr. Deltoid danced over to the gym supply closet and opened the door. “This year, each class will have two Field Day winners. These lucky winners get to open up this . . .”

And then he disappeared into his supply closet.

No one moved. Not even Harry.

“Ta-da!” he said popping out of that little room.

He was holding up a big brown box. There was nothing on it except for a long piece of masking tape that went over the top. We had no clue what was inside.

When Mr. Deltoid dropped the box, it landed with a thud on the gym floor.

“This is packed with Field Day prizes,” he said. Lots of us cheered, but Harry was the loudest.

Our gym teacher continued, “First place in any event wins three points, second place earns two, and third place one. Anyone who displays bad sportsmanship will lose a point, so remember that when you think of firing a bean bag at someone.”

After we laughed, Mr. Deltoid added, “The partner team with the highest score will get to choose Room 3B’s gift out of this box.” Then he tapped it like a drum.

“Can we pick partners now?” ZuZu asked.

I immediately looked over at Harry. I wanted to be his partner. He was pointing at me and flashing his white teeth.

“Yes,” the gym teacher answered, “but we’ll do it by drawing names out of a jar. It’s good to mix things up! There’s always a little luck in every sports event, and it’s good to work with different people!”

Harry immediately made prayer hands. It would take a miracle!

Our class had twenty kids, which meant the odds were against us!

I made prayer hands too.