Sideways Stories from Wayside School

  “Oh, all right,” said Terrence. “But I get to pitch.”

  “Ron and I will stand everybody!” Louis announced.

  “All right!” said Jason. “We’ll kill them!”

  “We’ll murder them!” said Deedee.

  “We’ll smash them!” said Myron.

  “We’ll see,” said Louis.

  Ron pitched, and Louis played the other eight positions. Twenty minutes later, they finally got three outs. The score was twenty-one to nothing.

  Ron was up first.

  “Infield in!” shouted Dameon. Everybody stood within ten feet of home plate.

  “All right, Ron,” Louis shouted, “kick it over their heads!”

  Ron kicked the ball only three-and-a-half feet. Todd picked it up and threw him out.

  Louis was up. Everybody ran back to the edge of the outfield. Still, Louis kicked the ball over their heads for a home run.

  Everybody ran all the way back in again for Ron’s up. He kicked the ball only two feet. Deedee tagged him out.

  Louis kicked another home run.

  Ron then kicked the ball a foot and tripped over it on his way to first base. Three outs.

  Ron and Louis held the other team to only five runs the next inning. That was because the bell rang. Lunch was finally over.

  Louis and Ron lost twenty-six to two. Ron had had a wonderful time.

  The next day Ron said, “I want to play kickball.”

  “You can’t play,” said Terrence.

  “Get out of here,” said Jason.

  “Scram,” said Deedee.

  “I want to play kickball,” Ron told Louis.

  Louis walked with him to the kickball field. “Ron and I will stand all of you.”

  Everybody liked the teams.

  Ron pitched while Louis played the other eight positions. They lost fifty-seven to two.

  After the game Louis took Ron aside. “Listen. Ron,” he said, “why do you always want to play kickball? You can’t kick. You can’t field. You can’t even run to first base. You just get smashed every game.”

  “Hey, now wait a second,” said Ron. “Don’t go blaming it all on me. You’re half the team, too, you know.” And with that, he punched Louis in the stomach.

  And he punched a heck of a lot harder than he kicked.

  ∨ Sideways Stories from Wayside School ∧

  22

  The Three Erics

  In Mrs. Jewls’s class there were three children named Eric: Eric Fry, Eric Bacon, and Eric Ovens. They were known throughout the school for being fat. Eric Fry sat at this end of the room. Eric Bacon sat in the middle of the room. And Eric Ovens sat at that end of the room. There was a joke around Wayside School that if all three Erics were ever at the same end of the room at the same time, the whole school would tip over.

  Eric Bacon hated jokes like that. That’s not surprising. After all, he wasn’t even fat. In fact, he was the skinniest kid in Mrs. Jewls’s class. But nobody seemed to notice. The other two Erics were fat, and so everyone just thought that all Erics were fat.

  “But I’m not fat!” Eric Bacon insisted.

  “What’s your name?” asked Jason.

  “Eric,” said Eric Bacon.

  “Then you’re fat,” Jason concluded.

  And pretty soon, skinny little Eric Bacon, the skinniest kid in Mrs. Jewls’s class, had the nickname “Fatso.”

  Eric Fry really was fat. He was also the best athlete in Mrs. Jewls’s class. His body was solid muscle. However, nobody ever noticed.

  The other two Erics weren’t very good at sports. Eric Ovens was clumsy. Eric (“Fatso”) Bacon was a good athlete for his size, but because he was so skinny he didn’t have much power.

  So, naturally, everybody just assumed that Eric Fry was also clumsy and weak. After all, his name was Eric.

  Whenever the other kids chose up teams, Eric Fry was the last one picked. They never noticed his home runs or the fabulous catches he made. Like all great athletes, he made the impossible look easy. Of course, the other kids did notice the one time that he dropped the ball.

  Eric Fry was playing right field. Terrence belted a deep fly to left. Eric Fry raced all the way across the field after the ball and at the last second dived at it. He caught it in midair on his fingertips, but as he hit the ground the ball squirted loose.

  “Well, what do you expect from ‘Butterfingers,’” said Stephen.

  And since that time Eric Fry has had the nickname “Butterfingers.”

  §

  Eric Ovens was the nicest person in Mrs. Jewls’s class. He treated everyone equally and always had a kind word to say. But because his name was Eric, everyone thought he was mean.

  §

  “Fatso” was mean because everyone called him “Fat-so.”

  “Butterfingers” was mean because he always had to play right field.

  So, naturally, everyone just assumed that Eric Ovens was also mean. They called him “Crabapple.”

  §

  “Good morning, Allison,” said Eric Ovens. “How are you?”

  “Lay off, ‘Crabapple’! Will ya?” answered Allison. “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

  All three of the Erics had nicknames. It was better that way. Otherwise when someone said, “Hey, Eric,” no one knew to whom he was talking. One time all the Erics would answer, and the next time none of them would answer. But when someone said, “Hey, ‘Crabapple,’ ” then Eric Ovens knew they were talking to him. And if someone said, “Hey, ‘Butterfingers,’ ” Eric Fry knew they meant him. And when someone said, “Hey, ‘Fat-so,’ ” Eric Bacon knew that he was being called.

  ∨ Sideways Stories from Wayside School ∧

  23

  Allison

  Allison had pretty blonde hair and always wore a sky-blue windbreaker. Her windbreaker was the same color as her eyes. She was best friends with Rondi. Rondi had blonde hair, too, but she was missing her two front teeth. Allison had all of her teeth.

  Allison used to say that she knocked Rondi’s teeth out. Allison was very pretty, so all the boys in Mrs. Jewls’s class teased her, especially Jason. But Allison said, “Leave me alone or I’ll knock your teeth out – like I did Rondi’s.” The boys didn’t bother her after that.

  One day Allison brought a tangerine for lunch. She took the peel off in one piece.

  Miss Mush, the lunch teacher, walked up to her. “Allison, may I have your tangerine?” she asked.

  Miss Mush always gave food to the children. So Allison was happy to give her tangerine to Miss Mush.

  Miss Mush shoved it in her mouth and swallowed it in less than four seconds.

  Allison left the lunchroom and walked down to the library. The lunchroom was on the fifteenth story. The library was on the seventh. Allison already had her book. She just went to the library because it was nice and quiet there.

  The librarian walked up to Allison. “What are you reading?” she asked.

  Allison told her the name of the book.

  “That sounds like a good book,” said the librarian. “J never read that one. May I borrow it?”

  The librarian always lent books to the children. Allison was glad to be able to return the favor. She gave the librarian the book, then walked down the stairs, outside to the playground.

  All of Allison’s friends were playing freeze tag. Allison didn’t feel like playing. She reached into the pocket of her sky-blue windbreaker and took out a tennis ball. She bounced it a couple of times on the ground.

  Louis came up to her. “Hi, Allison,” he said. “May I play with your tennis ball?”

  Louis always gave balls to the children. Allison happily gave her ball to Louis.

  Louis threw the ball all the way to the other side of the playground. Then he went chasing after it.

  Allison didn’t feel like doing anything. Jason ran up and tagged her.

  “You’re frozen,” he said.

  “Get out of here before I knock y
our teeth out,” said Allison.

  Jason shrugged his shoulders and left.

  Allison went back inside and up the thirty flights of stairs to Mrs. Jewls’s room. The lunch period wasn’t over yet, but Allison didn’t feel like doing anything else. She had given her food to the lunch teacher, her book to the librarian, and her ball to the yard teacher. She went inside her classroom.

  Mrs. Jewls was there. “Oh, Allison, I’m glad you’re here,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I’m having trouble with an arithmetic problem. Maybe you can help.”

  “Sure,” said Allison. Mrs. Jewls always helped the children with their problems. Allison was happy to help.

  “How do you spell chair?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  “C-H-A-I-R,” said Allison.

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I knew it wasn’t C-H-A-R-E, but I couldn’t remember what it was.”

  “That’s not an arithmetic problem,” said Allison. “That’s spelling.”

  “Yes, you are right again,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I always get the two mixed up.”

  The bell rang. The lunch period was over. Allison could hear the other children running up the stairs.

  “Allison,” said Mrs. Jewls. “You learned a very important secret today, and I don’t want you to tell any of the other children, not even Rondi.”

  “What was that?” asked Allison. She didn’t even know she had learned a secret. She loved secrets.

  “You learned that children are really smarter than their teachers,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “Oh, that’s no secret,” said Allison. “Everybody knows that.”

  ∨ Sideways Stories from Wayside School ∧

  24

  Dameon

  Dameon had hazel eyes with a little black dot in the middle of each of them. The dots were called pupils. So was Dameon. He was a pupil in Mrs. Jewls’s class.

  Mrs. Jewls was about to show the class a movie. She turned out the lights. When it was dark, Dameon’s pupils got bigger.

  “Dameon,” said Mrs. Jewls, “run downstairs and ask Louis if he’d like to see the movie with us.”

  Dameon ran down the thirty flights of stairs to the playground. He stepped outside as Louis was hooking up a tetherball.

  “Hey, Louis,” Dameon called. “Do you want to see a movie in Mrs. Jewls’s class?”

  Louis rubbed his chin. “What movie?” he asked.

  Dameon shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dameon ran all the way back up the stairs to the thirtieth story.

  “Louis wants to know, what movie?” said Dameon.

  “Does he want to know the name of the movie or what the movie is about?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  “I don’t know, said Dameon. “I’ll ask him.”

  Dameon raced back down the stairs and out to the playground.

  “Louis, do you want to know the name of the movie or what the movie is about?” he asked.

  “The name,” said Louis.

  “Okay,” said Dameon.

  Dameon hurried back up the thirty flights of stairs. He took the steps two at a time.

  “He wants to know the name,” said Dameon.

  “Turtles,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Dameon turned around, took a deep breath, then ran back down the stairs.

  “Turtles,” Dameon told Louis.

  “Hey, that might be good,” said Louis. “What’s it about?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Dameon. “I’ll find out.”

  Dameon raced back up the stairs. But first he stopped to take a drink of water.

  “What’s it about, Mrs. Jewls?” asked Dameon.

  “Turtles,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Dameon rushed back down the stairs to tell Louis.

  “Turtles,” said Dameon.

  “No, thanks,” said Louis. “I don’t like turtles. They are too slow.”

  Dameon lowered his head and slowly walked up the thirty flights of stairs. His legs were sore, he could hardly breathe, and his side ached.

  By the time he got to Mrs. Jewls’s class, the movie was over.

  “All right, class,” said Mrs. Jewls. “I want everybody to take out a piece of paper and a pencil and write something about turtles.”

  Dameon had missed the movie, but he still could have written something about turtles: “Turtles are too slow.” But now he couldn’t find his pencil. It just wasn’t his day.

  “What’s the matter, Dameon?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  “I can’t find my pencil,” said Dameon.

  §

  “Class, Dameon’s pencil is missing,” Mrs. Jewls announced. “What did it look like, Dameon?” she asked.

  “It was long and yellow,” said Dameon. “It had a black point at one end and a red eraser at the other.”

  “I found it,” said Todd, “here, by the blackboard.”

  “Yes, that’s it,” said Dameon.

  “No, there it is, in the corner by the waste basket,” said “Crabapple.”

  “Hmmm, maybe that’s it,” said Dameon.

  “Here it is,” said John. “It’s been in my desk the whole time.”

  “No, here it is in my hand,” said Joe.

  “I found it,” said Rondi.

  §

  “Here it is,” said Allison.

  “I have it,” laughed D.J.

  “I found it,” said Myron.

  “Which one is yours, Dameon?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  Dameon studied each pencil. “They all look like mine,” he said.

  Fortunately, at that moment, Louis walked into the classroom. He handed Dameon a pencil.

  “You dropped this when you were telling me about the movie,” said Louis.

  “Thanks,” said Dameon.

  “Okay, class,” said Mrs. Jewls. “So that we have no more mix-ups, I want everybody to write his name on his pencil.”

  Dameon spent the rest of the day trying to write his name on his pencil.

  Dameon’s pencil couldn’t write on itself. It was just like his beautiful hazel eyes with the black dots in the middle. They could see everything except themselves.

  ∨ Sideways Stories from Wayside School ∧

  25

  Jenny

  Jenny came to school on the back of her father’s motorcycle. She was late. Wayside School began at nine o’clock. It was almost nine-thirty. She kissed her father good-bye and raced up the thirty flights of stairs to Mrs. Jewls’s room.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, Mrs. Jewls, but my father’s motorcycle lost a…” There was nobody there. The room was empty.

  “Hello, hello,” she cried. “Mrs. Jewls, Dana, Todd, anyone?”

  There was no one in the room.

  “Maybe I’m early,” Jenny thought. She looked up at the clock. It was exactly nine-thirty.

  “Oh, I hope they didn’t go on a field trip without me.” She looked out the window. Nobody was there, not even Louis.

  Jenny didn’t know what to do. She sat down at her desk. She watched the second hand go around on the clock. “I might as well catch up on my spelling,” she thought. She opened her desk and took out her speller.

  M-U-D spells mud.

  “Where is everybody?”

  B-L-O-O-D spells blood.

  “I hope nothing happened to them.”

  B-L-A-C-K spells black.

  Jenny heard footsteps coming down the hall. She began to work very fast.

  H-A-C-K spells hack. S-M-A-C-K spells smack. Someone opened the door. Jenny turned around. “Ack!” she gasped.

  He was a man Jenny had never seen before. He had a black mustache and a matching attaché case.

  Jenny jumped out of her seat.

  “Get back in your seat,” the man said.

  Jenny slowly sat down.

  The man walked over and sat down in Dana’s seat, facing Jenny. He opened his attaché case and removed some papers.

  “What is your name?” he asked her.

  “Jenny,” J
enny whispered.

  “Jenny?” the man repeated as if he didn’t believe her.

  “Well, it is actually Jennifer, Jenny for short,” said Jenny.

  “I see,” said the man. He took the speller from Jenny’s desk. Jenny’s name was written across the top. He put the speller in his attaché case.

  “What are you doing here, Jennifer?” he asked.

  “This is my classroom,” said Jenny.

  “Are you sure?” the man asked.

  “Yes, I think so. I mean – ”

  “Where is the rest of your class?” the man asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Jenny, “maybe they went on a field trip.”

  “No,” said the man. “They didn’t go on a field trip.”

  “Well, I don’t know where they are!” Jenny cried. “I was half an hour late today, and when I got here everybody was gone. Really! Did something happen to them?”

  The man didn’t answer her. He wrote something on a piece of paper. “Tell me something, Jennifer. When you came to school today and saw that nobody was here, weren’t you somewhat puzzled?”

  “Yes. Yes,” said Jenny. “What happened to them?”

  “If you are really so concerned and so puzzled,” said the man, “why did you work on spelling?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jenny.

  “It would seem to me,” the man said, “that if a child came to school and nobody was there, she might play games, or walk around, or go home, but certainly not work on spelling.”

  Jenny started to cry. “I didn’t know what to do. I was late and had to ride on a motorcycle and nobody was here and now you are asking me all kinds of questions and I’m afraid of what has happened to Dana and Mrs. Jewls and Rondi and Allison.”

  The man didn’t understand a word she said.

  Jenny heard more footsteps. The man got up and opened the door. Two more men came in. One had a black mustache like the first man. The other man was bald.

  Jenny was frightened by them.

  “Does she know?” asked the newcomer with the mustache.