CHAPTER 1

“Good morning, citizens! I have the announcements in my hand. Are you excited? Me too. Okay, let’s see what’s on for today. Ahem.

“Noon doctor.

“Oops, reading from the wrong hand. That’s not the announcements, that’s what I wrote on myself to remind me about my appointment. Here are the announcements.

“Today is Day Two. Clearly, the school board is concerned about our attention span, citizens. They figure we can’t remember a complicated word like Wednesday, so they’re just calling days by number now. I wonder if the idea will catch on? Will cities be numbers too? And emotions: I’m feeling very three toward you, today, Charmaine. I was pretty two yesterday — can you forgive me? — but I’m very three indeed right now. And how about those Canucks! I’m so four about them, I can’t stand it.

“Speaking of local sports, congratulations to our own Pendrell Elementary swim team. Yes, we finished last at yesterday’s meet, but no one drowned. Could have been worse. Words to live by, am I right? Could have been worse.”

Behind me I can hear Mrs. Gorby sigh.

“More sports: there’s a boys’ basketball practice tonight. Come on, Coach Ackley, there’s been a basketball practice every night for the last two weeks. These announcements are supposed to be newsworthy, you know? If there wasn’t a practice, that would be news. Child bites dog. See?”

The noise from down the hall gets louder. Miss Funn stalks over to the office door and closes it.

“And don’t let’s forget about birthdays, citizens. We have two of them. Stephanie Muller in 1B turns six today. Congratulations, Stephanie! And our own little vampire, Drake Ulah in 8A, is 244 today. That’s, what, 238 years in elementary school. He’s been held back a lot. Maybe this is the year you graduate, Drake! The party invitations specify no garlic.”

I pause.

“Nothing? Drake-u-lah … Still nothing. Come on, citizens, I’m doing good work here. Help me out a little, will you?

“All right, those are today’s announcements. Looks like the zombie apocalypse is not happening. Keep your eyes peeled, though. You never know. The undead will surprise you. This is Gus Constantine, over and out.”

I turn off the mic and step away.

Miss Funn glares at me. Mrs. Gorby points.

“My office,” she says.

It’s a small room with a big window looking out on the ocean. Gorby leans back against her desk with her arms folded. I stand up.

“I know you’re funny,” she says. “But I have a school to run here. You can’t make jokes about the swim team drowning. Do you understand?”

“No.”

I mean this literally. I do not understand.

“You made a joke just now, about no one on the swim team drowning. Remember, Gus?”

“Uh huh.”

“Kids in grade one and grade two will go home and tell their parents. They’ll say there was an announcement about the swim team drowning. And what will happen then?”

She speaks slowly, like I’m a total idiot. Which I guess I am, to her. “Parents will be outraged, Gus. That’s what will happen. They will phone me and say that the school isn’t safe. That’s what could happen.”

“But —”

She waves her hand like she’s swatting a fly. “I’m not saying it will happen. I’m saying it could. Parents could spread the word about our unsafe school on social media. They could write a petition to the Board of Education. Which could lead to an investigation. Which could make headlines. Which could cause parents to take their kids away from the school. All because of what you said today.”

I swallow. I still don’t get it. Is she teasing me? Who tells their parents about announcements? Who even remembers them? It all sounds ridiculous.

“You spend time thinking about stuff like that, Mrs. Gorby? Whoa! Just as well I didn’t make a cannibalism joke.”

“You don’t get it, do you, Gus? I’m a principal. I spend all my time worrying about what could go wrong. That’s called planning.”

She doesn’t smile. She’s dead serious. Planning? Sounds like torture to me. All your time worrying about terrible possibilities. A tree branch could hit a kid in the head, so let’s chop down all the trees. Space debris could land on the playground, so let’s all wear helmets. Or better yet, let’s just stay inside.

Lele! What a way to live.

“It’s good for morale to have a student read the announcements,” she says. “Mr. Ackley spoke up for you, and the morning announcements get lots of laughs. You should apologize to him. And from now on, I want you to read them exactly the way I write them. No additions, no commentary. Exactly as written. Okay?”

“So … no cannibal jokes?”

She looks at me with no expression. I mean she doesn’t smile or frown or cringe. Blank is how she looks — like a wall. Or a parking lot. I guess that’s an expression too.

She walks around behind the desk and sits down. She’s skinny and sharp, like a nail.

“Follow the script tomorrow, Gus. I don’t want any surprises. And close the door behind you when you leave.”

Miss Funn knows I’m in trouble.

“I don’t think you’re funny,” she says to me, as I walk across the outer office. “Just want you to know. I don’t get it at all.”

I turn in the doorway. “I hope you never do, Miss Funn,” I say.

Her smile slides a little to one side. “See — you probably thought that was funny. Well, I didn’t.”

The phone rings. She reaches automatically, then freezes. She knows I’m going to say, Pendrell Elementary, howww can I help you? along with her. She’s scared to pick up.

The phone rings again. It’s a good moment. She has this stricken look on her face, like she’s about to let out a big fart she’s been holding in.

I should feel sorry for her.

Do I feel sorry for her? Nope.

I leave the office and walk down the hall. It’s bright outside, and inside too. Sunlight pouring through windows. Overhead fluorescence. I pass the gym doors and head up the centre staircase to my homeroom.

I take the stairs two at a time starting with the first stair: one, three, five, seven, nine. From the landing to the second floor, it’s eight steps, so I start on the second stair to end on a double at the top: two, four, six, eight. What, you don’t do this?

It’s waiting for me in the storage closet just to the left of the staircase.