Flying Feet
Maybe his greatest one yet.
Charlie heard a clack-clack noise. Someone was coming.
“Uh-oh,” Sumiko said. “It’s Mrs. Farelli.”
Charlie leaned back into the mop.
“Did Charles tell you about Come as a Character Day?” Mrs. Farelli asked Sumiko.
“Um.”
“Good,” Mrs. Farelli said. “I’ll see you all in the art room in five minutes.”
All, Charlie thought. All?
Mrs. Farelli clacked away.
Sumiko slid into the closet. “No Olympics for me,” she said.
She gave Charlie a box of raisins. “It’s today’s snack.”
“Thanks.” Charlie tore open the box.
They sat there and chewed.
“Not much room in here,” Charlie said.
Mrs. Thomas must have thought so, too.
She gave Sumiko a quick scratch. She spit at Charlie.
They dived out of the closet.
Mrs. Farelli was standing at the end of the hall. “There you are,” she said.
They followed her into the art room.
“We have so much to do,” Mrs. Farelli said. “We have to make costumes and practice.”
She rooted through a box. “Nothing in here but …”
She held up a feather. She stuck it in her hair. She twirled around.
Mrs. Farelli looked a little like a rooster.
She was smiling. A big rooster smile.
Mrs. Farelli smiling?
Charlie could hardly believe it.
“I don’t know what this feather is good for.” She leaned over the box. “But look at this.”
She held up a fake carrot. “Perfect for our boy Peter Rabbit,” she said.
Charlie swallowed.
She dug a little deeper. “Where did these come from?” She held up a pair of fuzzy white pajamas. “An old costume, I guess. Perfect for a rabbit.”
Charlie took a step back.
Mrs. Farelli was still smiling. “Are you ready for more news?”
Trevor and Clifton, the kindergarten kids, popped in the door.
“We’re ready,” Clifton said. “Maybe I’ll be Jack the Giant Killer.”
“Something tough, anyway.” Trevor clenched his fists. “Graaaaaahhhh!”
Charlie jumped. So did Sumiko.
Mrs. Farelli tapped Charlie on the arm. “I saw your brother, Larry. He was outside the high school. I stopped the car and invited him,” she said. “He was thrilled.”
“I can’t believe it,” Charlie said.
“Grand, right? I called Zelda A. Zigzag. She’ll be coming, too.”
Charlie swallowed.
Zelda A. Zigzag and Larry would see him.
He’d be wearing fuzzy white pajamas. They’d watch him chomping down on a fake carrot.
Everyone was going up to the library.
Almost everyone. Beebe and Destiny were knitting in the art room. The scarves looked like skinny red strings.
Mitchell waved at Charlie. “I’m staying for Homework Help. I’m writing the story of my life.”
Charlie nodded. Mitchell was the best writer in the Center. He’d won a prize for it.
“We don’t even have to think about Come as a Character Day until tomorrow,” Charlie told Sumiko.
“Whew,” she said.
Behind them, Trevor yelled, “Graaaah!”
No one jumped. It was the tenth time he’d graaaaahed in the last two minutes.
Clifton threw himself on the floor, laughing. “Great growl,” he told Trevor.
A sign was taped outside of the library. CLOSE THE DOOR QUICKLY.
Ms. Katz had brought her new dog, Tree Stump, with her.
He was little and round. Just like a tree stump.
Mrs. Thomas, the cat, would eat him ears to tail in one gulp.
Charlie opened the library door a couple of inches. He and Sumiko slipped through.
Tree Stump was safe.
Charlie liked being at the library. Especially during Afternoon Center.
Ms. Katz was the best teacher in school. She wore blue glasses. Her hair was straight as a stick.
It was read-aloud time. Everyone sat on the floor around Ms. Katz. Beebe sat closest. She could read Ms. Katz’s lips. Wow!
Ms. Katz passed out carrot cupcakes. They had swirls of icing on top like orange hats.
No one had to worry about crumbs on the rug.
Tree Stump loved crumbs.
Ms. Katz read to them…
… with all the sound effects.
Last month she had read about a girl named Mary. Mary had found a secret garden.
This month she was reading about Dorothy and a wizard.
Dorothy and her dog, Toto, had been twirled away in a twister, or a rainstorm. One of those things, anyway.
“Swishhhhh, crackle, boooom,” Ms. Katz thundered.
“Kiken.” Sumiko’s eyes were wide. “That’s ‘danger’ in Japanese.”
“Graaaaaahhhh!” roared Trevor.
Clifton tried a roar, too. It sounded more like a squeak.
But Tree Stump dived under the table.
Charlie listened. Dorothy had met three guys on the Yellow Brick Road. They all wanted something. They needed a wizard to help.
Charlie heard a noise in back of him.
Habib was juggling with cupcakes.
Splat!
What a mess.
Charlie scooped up icing from the table leg.
Delicious.
Tree Stump scarfed up a chunk from the rug.
He probably thought it was delicious, too.
Ms. Katz read more. She told them that Dorothy wanted to go home. It was lucky she had red shoes. She tapped them together three times. Then she was home.
Charlie liked being home, too.
He had started a new invention in his room.
He’d felt that buzz in his head. It was like a bee buzzing around in there. A thinking bee.
The invention was a Junker Cruncher.
It was a machine to crunch up junk.
If only it would work!
It would help Jake.
It would help the whole world.
All Charlie needed was a motor. And a cruncher. A big cruncher.
So far he had a mousetrap from the garage.
Snap!
It had cut a pen in half.
He’d get the small cruncher going. Then he and Jake could build a gigantic one.
Out in the hall, Ramón blew his whistle. Time to go.
Charlie and Sumiko walked to the bus.
The bus driver was waiting for them. She had a bandage on her foot.
“What happened?” Charlie asked.
Mrs. Dover didn’t look happy.
“Snap! I stepped on a mousetrap.” She looked at Charlie. “It was in my son’s bedroom.”
Terrible news! Her poor foot.
And almost as bad—
His Junker Cruncher was ruined.
This afternoon it was about to rain. Charlie could hear thunder.
“Swish crackle boom,” he said to himself in a Ms. Katz voice.
He went downstairs to the Center.
“How about knitting with us?” Destiny asked.
Beebe was standing next to her. “I’ll teach you.” Beebe sounded just a little loud. Ms. Katz said that was because she couldn’t hear her own voice very well.
“You could make a tie,” Beebe said.
Beebe was a nice girl. But a tie? He wouldn’t wear a tie in a million years. “Sorry,” he said.
He looked out the door.
The pile of junk was still there. Jake was trying to cover it.
He flapped a big gray tarp.
Charlie wanted to help. But Mrs. Farelli would be waiting. Charlie walked to the art room. Slowly.
The door was locked.
Ms. Katz came along. “Mrs. Farelli has a cold,” she said. “She’ll be out for the rest of the week.”
“Too bad
,” Charlie said.
Wait. Did that mean—No Peter Rabbit!
He raced down the hall. He jumped up. How close could he get to the lights?
Not very close.
He and Sumiko went outside.
On top of the junk pile was an old mirror. Charlie could see Mrs. Thomas in it.
She was taking a nap under the three-legged tilting chair.
Charlie and Sumiko helped Jake flap the tarp over the pile. Fourteen flaps!
The tarp sailed over the three of them: Charlie, Jake, and Sumiko.
“Mr. Randolph wants a clean schoolyard by Monday,” Jake said. “Something special is going on.”
“Not anymore,” Charlie said.
“Special or not,” Jake said. “Mr. Randolph said that the pile goes.”
Charlie squinted at the pile. “We could dig a hole. Bury the whole thing.”
“It would have to be huge. The size of China.” Jake closed his eyes. “I’d have to work on Saturday.”
“Muda,” Sumiko said. “That’s ‘no good’ in Japanese.”
“How about a zoo?” Charlie said. He picked up a metal bar. “We could use these.”
“Ii,” Sumiko said. “That’s ‘good.’ ”
Was that a buzz in Charlie’s head?
“We could start with Mrs. Thomas and Tree Stump,” Charlie said. “We could add a monkey.”
He thought about it. “Maybe we could get the real zoo to lend us an ele—”
“Mr. Randolph would fire me,” Jake said.
No buzz after all, Charlie thought.
“Time to sweep the halls,” Jake said.
It started to rain.
“Time for a snack,” Charlie said.
In the lunchroom no one was eating.
No wonder.
The snack was soup.
It was the red kind, with lumps.
“It’ll warm you up on this rainy day,” the lunch lady said.
Destiny and Beebe were helping the lunch lady. “Get your soup crackers here!” they yelled.
Sumiko backed away. “I might be allergic to soup.”
“I’m allergic to lumps,” Mitchell said.
“Me too,” said Habib.
A couple of kids grabbed crackers. Then they slid out the door.
The lunch lady looked disappointed.
How could Charlie hurt her feelings?
He tried a sip. He kept his teeth closed.
It was the worst.
“Hi, everyone.” Ms. Katz was at the lunchroom door.
“How about some soup?” the lunch lady asked her.
“No, thanks,” Ms. Katz said. “It’s the red kind with lumps.”
The lunch lady nodded. “I don’t like it, either. But Charlie loves it.”
She filled Charlie’s bowl again.
Charlie began to shake his head.
“Don’t worry,” the lunch lady said. “I have tons of it. I’ll freeze the rest.”
Charlie took half a lump.
It would take a hundred spoonfuls to get to the bottom of the bowl.
Ms. Katz sat down at the table. “Poor Mrs. Farelli,” she said to everyone. “She was excited about Come as a Character Day on Monday.”
Charlie and Sumiko looked at each other.
“Too bad,” Habib said.
“She invited Zelda A. Zigzag. And the parents. And Charlie’s older brother, Larry. He’s read a million books.” Ms. Katz poked at her glasses. “He’s a great boy.”
“Great. Like red soup with lumps,” Charlie said.
“Told you,” the lunch lady said. “Charlie loves this soup.”
Ms. Katz shook her head. “We have to call off Come as a Character Day. “There’s no time to make costumes. No time to practice.”
She pushed her glasses up on her hair. “Too bad. Mrs. Farelli always says we do things together at the Zelda A. Zigzag School.”
Charlie made himself eat another lump.
“Some ideas are good,” Sumiko said. “Some are not so good. That’s what my mother says.”
Charlie’s mother had said that just last night.
He’d been working on his Pop Out a Potato invention.
He’d left a bag of potatoes in the yard.
In the rain.
By accident.
The potatoes had turned to mush.
His mother’s potato pancakes had no potatoes.
They were as horrible as the soup.
Charlie knew how Mrs. Farelli must feel.
“Poor tough-as-nails Mrs. Farelli,” Sumiko whispered to Charlie.
“We should have helped her,” Habib said.
“Yes,” Charlie said.
He pushed his bowl away.
He couldn’t eat any more.
The rain stopped.
A pale sun came out. Everyone ran for the yard.
Ramón blew his whistle. “Who’s ready for a race?” he called.
“A race!” Destiny told Beebe.
“Me!” Beebe yelled.
“Me too,” Sumiko said.
Charlie watched Sumiko run in place. She was warming up.
A bunch of kids sloshed through the puddles.
Charlie sat on the wall.
The stones were wet.
So what? They felt good.
Trevor and Clifton hopped along the wall. “Great hoppers, right?” Trevor yelled.
“You’d make great Peter Rabbits,” Charlie said.
Clifton stopped hopping. He wiggled his nose.
Habib juggled an old ball. “I found it in Jake’s junk pile,” Habib told Charlie.
“I found this, too.” Mitchell waved a horn. “It doesn’t toot. I might take it home anyway.”
Ramón stood at the other end of the field. He raised his arms high.
Then he snapped them down.
Everyone began to run.
Beebe was running hard. She passed Sumiko.
Her face was red.
She was beating some of the fifth graders.
Clifton jumped off the wall. He just missed Beebe.
“Yeow!” Beebe yelled.
Clifton landed on a box in Jake’s pile.
“They’re work gloves.” Clifton held up a green one.
Charlie felt a buzz.
It was a little buzz.
Still—
Another invention?
He had no time to think about it.
Ms. Katz sat down next to him. “The wall is a little damp,” she said. “But it feels good.”
Beebe passed him for the second time.
Habib came flying by.
Trevor threw a glove in the air.
Big gloves.
Thick gloves.
Gloves with lots of room.
The buzz in Charlie’s head began again.
Jake came along. “Go, guys,” he yelled.
“Can I have those gloves?” Charlie asked Jake.
Jake waved his hand. “Take anything. Take it all.”
“I feel terrible,” Ms. Katz said.
Charlie looked over at her.
She didn’t look sick.
She shook her head. “I’m thinking of Mrs. Farelli. She was sad about Monday.”
Charlie thought about Mrs. Farelli.
He thought about the feather in her hair.
She had twirled around, singing tra-la-la.
She’d looked happy.
“I hate to call Zelda A. Zigzag tomorrow,” Ms. Katz said. “She’ll be sad, too.”
Ramón held up his finger. “Sumiko came in first.”
He held up two fingers so Beebe could see. “Beebe second.”
“Whew.” Sumiko leaned close so Beebe could read her lips. “My feet are falling off.”
Charlie felt that buzz again. Louder now.
An invention was on its way, Charlie thought.
Ramón blasted his whistle two times.
The buses were there.
Mrs. Dover, the bus driver, honked her horn.
&nbs
p; Charlie grabbed the box of gloves.
He began to run to the bus.
So did some of the other kids.
“What’s that box for?” Mrs. Dover asked.
“I don’t know yet,” he said.
“I hope it isn’t Flying Feet,” she said. “I hope it doesn’t have a mousetrap.”
Charlie ducked his head.
“Or an Underwater-Breathing Box.”
Charlie went to the back of the bus.
Sumiko slid in next to him. “The bus driver knows a lot about you,” she said.
“She’s pretty smart,” Charlie said.
Sumiko wiggled her legs around. “My feet need a rest,” she said.
Charlie nodded.
He wasn’t thinking about her feet, though.
He was thinking about a new invention.
He was thinking about poor Mrs. Farelli, too.
It was early on Friday morning.
Too early for school.
No one would be in the classroom except Ms. Katz.
That was good. That was great.
At home, Charlie zigzagged down the driveway.
He carried the box with his new invention.
“Hurry.” He jumped up and down at the bus door.
He and his mother climbed in.
They zoomed over to school.
Charlie left the box on Jake’s junk pile.
No one would see it there.
His mother gave a quick honk. She was off to pick up the busers.
Mattheus, the guard, was at the door. “You’re early today, Charlie,” he said. “March yourself right in.”
Charlie could hear the band practicing. Boom de boom.
Mrs. Thomas was taking a walk.
Charlie circled around her.
In the principal’s office, the light was on.
Charlie could see Mr. Randolph’s bald head.
Maybe Mr. Randolph never went home. Maybe he had a bed in his closet.
Charlie was glad he was going to be an inventor.
He wouldn’t want to live in the Zelda A. Zigzag School for the rest of his life. At night. In the dark.
He kept going.
Up the stairs.
Down to room 214.
Ms. Katz was working at her desk.
She poked at her glasses. She pushed back her stick-straight hair. “Hey, Charlie,” she said.
He wiggled his toes. All the Band-Aids were off now.
“I have a new invention,” he said.
“Lovely,” Ms. Katz said. It was her favorite word.