1
The Elephant Who Always Forgets
Petunia ducked frantically, barely avoiding being pulled into the Locker of Infinite Oblivion by the hideous ragged claw. It recoiled into the locker angrily, slamming the door shut.
I have got to pay closer attention, Petunia reminded herself, dusting the smudges off her purple dress.
She had gotten distracted searching the walkway for her friends.
Even though none of her classmates had contacted her over the summer, she had been desperately looking forward to school starting so she could see them. Petunia had not even heard from her best friend, Frank (pronounced “Rachel”), which she thought was very odd.
After the first few weeks of summer, Petunia had grown so lonely that she grew her purple hair back down to her purple shoulders. Her purple hair attracted honeybees, and she needed the company.
Petunia couldn’t wait to find out who her new sixth-grade teacher would be. The teachers were always special. Last year, Petunia’s teacher was Ms. Fangs, an 850-year-old vampire who was very, very nice. She only bit two kids the whole year.
As Petunia walked down the twisting main hallway of Scary School, most kids backed away from the bees circling her head.
Still not seeing her classmates, Petunia was very puzzled. Eventually she saw a boy she recognized. His name was Charles Nukid. He was from the other sixth-grade class. As always, his hair was molded into a perfect hair helmet on top of his egg-shaped head. He was wearing gray shorts, a white dress shirt, and a polka-dot tie, which was the official Scary School uniform that everybody else refused to wear because it looked so stupid.
“Hi, Charles,” said Petunia. “Have you seen anyone from my class?”
“No, I was actually looking for Penny. Let me know if you find her. I have to hurry or else I’ll only be on time for class instead of early. I’m always early. That’s my own personal rule. Why risk it, you know?”
Charles had to catch his breath. It was as if he hadn’t spoken to anyone all summer and had become overexcited when the chance came.
Petunia said good-bye to Charles and skipped toward her classroom. When she stepped into the room, she dropped her books in shock.
The room was empty.
Petunia double-checked her schedule. She was in the right place, Dungeon 5B, but there were no classmates and no teacher.
At 8:00 a.m., she peeked out into the hallway. It was as empty as her classroom.
Kids are never late for class at Scary School, because if a teacher is in a bad mood, well, let’s just say there are a few lollygaggers who are walking around without all their toes or noses.
Petunia decided to take a seat and hoped that someone would come. She didn’t dare wander the hallways without a hall pass. Even though the hallway monitor, Mr. Spider-Eyes, had been eaten by Mrs. T, the T. rex, during the Ghoul Games, the new hallway monitor might be even meaner. There was no point in taking the chance.
After a couple minutes, Petunia heard a loud thumping from the hallway.
Gathump. Gathump. Gathump. It got closer and closer, then stopped at the doorway. Petunia gulped.
Suddenly, the door burst open. In stomped something Petunia had never seen before. The creature had big, stumpy elephant feet, but the body of a man. He was wearing a tight-fitting suit and tie. His knitted brown jacket hung loosely around his humanlike arms. The creature had the head of a giant elephant, with floppy ears, long ivory tusks, and a trunk that hung halfway down his body.
He looked at Petunia, then at a sheet of paper he was holding in his trunk.
“Hello,” said the creature in a deep, goofy-sounding voice. “Are you the teacher?”
“No,” Petunia answered, growing more confused by the second.
“Oh,” said the creature. “Well, by process of elimination, I guess that means I’m the teacher.”
Petunia stared at him blankly.
“What’s your name?” the creature asked.
“Petunia.”
“Petunia, eh? I’m going to write that down.”
The creature placed the paper on the desk, then used his trunk to write Petunia’s name on the sheet of paper. He didn’t have much success as there was nothing holding the paper in place. It just kept sliding all over the desk.
The creature got frustrated. “This paper won’t stay put for me to write down your name. Please excuse me if I forget it.”
“Why don’t you use your hands instead of your trunk?” Petunia suggested.
“Hands?” said the creature quizzically. He lifted his hands in front of his eyes and jumped back in fright. His hands were covered with fish scales.
“Oh my goodness! I have scaly hands! What kind of strange creature am I?”
“I have no idea,” said Petunia.
“Well, thank you for pointing these out to me, young lady. I couldn’t see them because my trunk was in the way. Tell me, what’s your name?”
“Petunia.”
“Petunia, eh? I’m going to write that down so I don’t forget.”
This time the creature used his hands to write down Petunia’s name on the sheet of paper.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Now we’re getting somewhere. It says on this sheet of paper that my name is Morris Grump. Apparently, I’m the teacher for the sixth-grade class at Scary School. Hmm. I suppose that means you better call me Mr. Grump.”
“Mr. Grump,” asked Petunia, “do you know where the rest of the class is?”
“The rest of the class? No. Do you?”
“No.”
“Oh. Well, we better wait here for them. I’d hate to go wandering around and get lost. I don’t even think I’m supposed to be living on this continent. Don’t elephants come from Africa?”
“Africa or southern Asia,” Petunia replied.
“Say, you’re smart! You’re going to be useful!” exclaimed Mr. Grump.
“Is that what you are? An elephant?” asked Petunia.
“You don’t seem to be a full elephant.”
“Good point,” said Mr. Grump. “I seem to be part scaly man also. I guess that means I’m the Elephant Man.”
“But I thought elephants never forget.”
“If you say so. The last thing I remember was trudging up a snowy mountain dragging a sack of coconuts behind me. The next thing I knew, I was walking down that hallway holding this sheet of paper.”
“To be honest, you don’t seem to know very much for a teacher.”
“Well, I’m sure I must have done something very impressive to earn this position. I’ll certainly give it my best. Now, what’s the first thing you would like me to teach you?”
“Um. I don’t know. Math?”
“Excellent choice! Math it is!” Then Mr. Grump’s expression went blank and his trunk went limp.
“What’s math?” he asked.
Ugh, Petunia thought to herself. This is going to be a long year.