The Candy Corn Contest
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To Beverly Horowitz
Chapter 1
Ms. Rooney gave out the drawing paper. “All eyes on me,” she said.
Richard Best put his hand into his desk.
“This is the way to make a Thanksgiving tur-key,” said Ms. Rooney. She picked up a fat piece of brown chalk.
Richard fished around for his lunch bag. He watched Ms. Rooney trace her hand on the chalkboard.
He had made a turkey just like that last year … and the year before. Now he was making another one.
A left-back turkey. Just like him.
He started to open his lunch bag.
It made a crackling noise.
Matthew Jackson turned around. He pulled on his stick-out ears. “Hi, Beast,” he whispered.
Richard made a beast face. He smiled at Matthew.
Matthew was a great kid, Richard thought.
But he wet the bed.
And he probably hadn't taken a bath since last sum-mer.
Sometimes Richard wished Ms. Rooney would change every-one's seat. But then he might end up sitting right in front of her desk.
He pulled a piece of bread off his cheese sandwich and looked at it.
There was a little piece of cheese stuck to the bread.
He scraped the cheese off and flicked it on the floor. Then he sneaked the bread into his mouth.
Ms. Rooney stopped talking. She frowned.
Richard stopped chewing.
Then Ms. Rooney put a round red eye on her turkey.
Richard wished she'd hurry up. He couldn't wait for show-and-tell.
He had some great news.
It was about a sleep-over party the day after Thanksgiving.
Beast's friend Emily Arrow put her hand in the air. “You forgot the turkey's feet,” she told Ms. Rooney.
“So I did,” said Ms. Rooney. She drew two yel-low stick legs. She drew a bunch of claws.
Then she wiped her chalky hands on a piece of paper. “I have exciting news,” she said.
Richard hoped she didn't know about his party. He wanted to tell everyone himself. He picked up a brown crayon and began to trace his hand for his turkey.
Ms. Rooney went to the closet. She took out a huge jar. She brought it over to her desk.
It was filled with Candy Corn.
Richard felt his mouth water.
“We're going to have a contest,” Ms. Rooney said. “Guess how many pieces of Candy Com are in this jar?”
“Two hundred thousand,” Emily Arrow called.
“That's not right,” Dawn Bosco said. “Maybe a hundred.”
“What's the prize?” Noah Greene asked.
“The whole jar of Candy Corn,” Ms. Rooney said. “It will be a Thanksgiving present.”
Matthew turned around. He gave Richard a little poke. “I hope I win,” he said. “If you win, will you share with me?”
Richard looked down at the picture he had started. It was a good-looking turkey with blue feathers. He made believe he hadn't heard Mat-thew.
He'd hate to give up half of that Candy Corn if he won.
“How many guesses do we get?” Emily Arrow asked.
“That's the fun part,” Ms. Rooney said. “Every time you read a page from your library book, you can take a guess.”
Matthew groaned.
“Great,” said Timothy Barbiero.
Richard looked at Timothy. Timothy was the fastest reader in the class. He'd probably win.
Too bad.
Emily must have been thinking the same thing, Richard thought. She was looking at Timothy too.
“I'm going to win,” she said. “I'm going to try.”
“Good for you,” said Ms. Rooney.
“I think I'll win,” Timothy said. “I can read fast.”
Emily looked down at her desk. She didn't say any-thing.
But Richard knew what she was thinking.
She was a terrible reader.
Just like him.
Richard pulled out his library book.
It was a fat one.
It took him about an hour to get through one page.
He shouldn't have picked such a hard one.
He'd go back to the library this afternoon. He'd pick a nice skinny little book.
“And,” said Ms. Rooney, “no cheating. No reading skinny little baby books.”
Richard looked at the jar again. He was dying to win.
Matthew was a worse reader than he was.
He didn't have a chance of winning, Richard thought.
Poor Matthew.
Poor smelly Matthew.
Richard tapped his arm. “If I win,” he said, “I'll share with you.”
“All right,” Matthew said. Then he shook his head. “We won't win. We're the worst readers in the class.”
Chapter 2
It was almost time to go home. Richard was sick of waiting for show-and-tell.
“All right,” Ms. Rooney said at last. “Who has something to tell us?”
Richard waved his hand around in the air.
Ms. Rooney picked Emily Arrow.
Emily hurried to the front of the room. She was wearing red sneak-ers. Her legs looked like Slim Jim pretzels.
“I went to my aunt Helen's wedding on Satur-day,” Emily said. “I'll tell you all about it.”
Richard wiggled around in his seat.
Emily told about the bride's dress and the brides-maids' dresses.
She told about the wedding cake.
Richard sighed in a loud voice.
Emily danced around in her sneakers. “This is the way the bride danced,” she said.
Richard looked at the other kids.
Timothy was reading a book as fast as he could.
He'd have about five guesses by tomorrow.
He might win the jar of Candy Corn before Richard guessed once.
Suddenly Emily saw Timothy reading. She frowned. “I guess that's all,” she said. She raced back to her seat and opened her library book.
Ms. Rooney looked around.
Richard put his hand in the air. He knelt up on his seat so Ms. Rooney would look at him.
“Sit down, Richard,” Ms. Rooney said. She looked around the room. “Wayne?”
Wayne O'Brien went to the front of the room. He stood there for a minute.
Then he shook his head. “I don't remember what I was going to say.”
In front of him Richard could hear Matthew trying to read. He didn't know the words.
At last Wayne raised his shoulders up to his neck. He went back to his seat.
Ms. Rooney smiled at Richard. “Do you have something—”
Richard rushed to the front of the room.
He took a deep breath. “I'm going to have a sleep-over,” he said. “Everyone's invited.”
Emily looked up from her book. “Great,” she said.
Richard swallowed. “I mean, the boys. Only the boys. It's a sleep-over party for boys.”
“Oh,” said Emily Arrow.
“There isn't room for girls,” Richard said.
“All right,” Emily said.
“I'm coming,” yelled Matthew. “When is it?”
“The night after Thanksgiving,” Richard said.
Timothy Barbiero put his hand in the air. “Will there be good stuff to eat?”
“Sure,” Richard said. “My mother's making spaghetti and Italian bread. And leftover turkey. And we're going to have ice cream for dessert.”
Derrick Grace raised his hand. “I can't come,” he said. He looked as if he were going to cry. “I'm going to my uncle John's.”
“I can't come either,” Jason Bazyk said.
Richard looked around.
Not so good.
Now there would be only six, counting himself.
'Don't worry,” Matthew called again. “I'm coming. I love ice cream.”
Richard went back to his seat. “You're coming, aren't you?” he called to Timothy Barbiero.
“I think so,” Timothy said.
Dawn Bosco was up in the front of the room. “My grand-mother lives in Florida,” she said.
She held up a fat grapefruit. “My grandmother sent us a whole box of these.”
Richard shuddered. He hated grapefruit.
He opened his book to page three. Last week he had read two pages. Maybe he could get two guesses.
As soon as Dawn sat down, he raised his hand. “Can I use last week's book for a guess?”
Ms. Rooney thought for a minute.
“Oh, good,” Timothy Barbiero said. “I read about a hundred pages last week.”
Ms. Rooney shook her head. “I think we'd better stick to this week. We'll start with to-day.”
Richard looked at page three. He tried to read the first sentence. It was a tough one.
He turned to page four. A nice big picture took up most of the space. He wouldn't have to read many words.
If he ever got there.
Timothy Barbiero raised his hand. “I started my new book this morning,” he said. “And now I'm almost fin-ished.”
“That's wonderful,” Ms. Rooney said.
Richard looked at Timothy. Timothy was smart. And he was lucky.
Richard wished he was like Timothy. He was sick of being dumb. And unlucky.
Chapter 3
“Can anyone tell us about the first Thanksgiv-ing?” Ms. Rooney asked.
“I can,” Timothy Barbiero said.
44Me too,” Dawn Bosco said.
Richard hid behind Matthew. He didn't know one thing about the first Thanksgiving.
Six boys would be at his sleep-over. He wrote a big six on the pa-per. Underneath he wrote a T for Timothy. Then he wrote a W for Wayne.
4'Many years ago,” said Ms. Rooney, “some people sailed across the ocean.”
Emily Arrow raised her hand. “They came on a boat called the Mayflower.”
“Right, Emily,” said Ms. Rooney. “And the people were called Pilgrims.”
Richard wrote an X on the paper. X for Alex.
He looked around. Who else was coming?
“It was cold,” said Ms. Rooney. “The Pilgrims had very little food. Many of them were sick.”
Matthew. He had forgotten Matthew.
He wrote an M on the pa-per.
Then he wrote Beast for him-self. His nickname.
“Timothy,” he whispered. “Wayne. Alex. Matthew. And me.”
He counted. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five.” Someone was missing.
“The Pilgrims' first winter was terri-ble,” Ms. Rooney said.
Noah raised his hand. “Then the Indians came to help them.”
“Very good, Noah,” Ms. Rooney said.
Richard wrote an N for Noah. That was six.
He looked around again. He'd sit next to Timothy when they ate.
Alex would sit on his other side.
He'd put a big pile of spaghetti on his plate.
He'd save some room for ice cream.
“Are you listening, Richard?” Ms. Rooney asked.
Richard jumped. “Yes.”
“In the spring,” said Ms. Rooney, “the Indians showed the Pilgrims how to plant corn. They told them to put dead fish in the earth with the seed. It would make the corn grow better.”
“Yucks,” said Emily Arrow.
“Don't be silly, Emily,” said Ms. Rooney. “The Indians were right. The corn grew strong.”
Richard thought about his sleep-over again.
Everyone would sleep in the den.
He'd sleep next to Timothy and Alex.
Matthew would have to sleep next to the wall. Just in case.
And Wayne would sleep on Matthew's other side.
“The Pilgrims learned to hunt,” said Ms. Rooney. “Then they had more food.”
Richard wished he had something to eat. Some of that spaghetti. Some leftover turkey.
“Yes,” said Ms. Rooney. “The Pilgrims worked hard. Very hard. They did the right thing.”
“Then they had a Thanksgiving party,” said Timothy.
“Yes,” said Ms. Rooney. “They invited everyone.”
“Hey,” Wayne whispered. “I have to talk to you.”
“What's the matter?” Richard asked,
“I'll tell you later,” Wayne said. He was frowning.
Richard felt a worried feeling. He hoped Wayne was coming to his party.
It would be nice for Matthew to have someone to sleep near.
Besides, if Wayne didn't come, there would be only five boys.
Chapter 4
But there was no time to talk to Wayne.
They had to pack their books. And Richard had to find his sister, Holly.
For a while Richard waited in the hall.
He looked at the picture of the man on the wall.
James K. Polk, it said underneath.
Poor James K. Polk, Richard thought. His collar was so big, it was flapping around his cheeks.
Richard went to the boys' room.
Holly still didn't come.
He went back to his classroom. Ms. Rooney was gone.
Jim, the custodian, was beginning to sweep.
Richard saw that Matthew had forgotten his sweater. It was on the floor.
He picked it up. It smelled like Matthew.
He put it on Matthew's chair.
“Thanks,” Jim said. He finished sweep-ing. He pushed the broom out to the hall.
Richard walked over to Ms. Rooney's desk.
He looked at the jar of Candy Corn.
His mouth was watering again.
He tried to guess how many pieces of Candy Corn there were.
Maybe he should do some counting.
He could count all the Candy Corn on one side of the jar to-day.
Tomorrow after school he'd count the ones on the other side.
It wouldn't be cheating, Richard thought. He'd still have to guess how many were in the middle.
He started to count.
After he was half finished, he forgot what number he was up to.
He took off the top of the jar so he could see inside. There were three fat ones on the top.
He'd love to eat the whole jar of Candy Corn right now.
He'd take them two at a time. He'd stick them together. Then he'd crunch right down on them.
He hoped his mother would have lots of Candy Corn for his Thanksgiving sleep-over.
She wouldn't though. She didn't like him to eat too much candy.
He wondered if Ms. Rooney had counted all the Candy Corn yet.
Maybe not.
They'd probably count them together. The whole class. At the end of the guessing.
He poked his finger into the jar.
The Candy Corn clicked together.
It would be easy to dump everything out of the jar. It would be easy to count them.
He'd never do that.
That would really be cheating.
Someone else might do it though.
Ms. Rooney should have locked the jar up in the closet.
He took four pieces of Candy Corn out of thejar. He put them on the desk. He made them into a Candy Corn fence.
They looked neat, like a bunch of pumpkin teeth waiting for a pumpki
n.
He picked them up and put them back into the jar. All except one. A fat one.
Without thinking, he popped it into his mouth.
He ate it so fast, he hardly tasted it.
He reached into the jar. He took out another one. Quickly he put it into his mouth.
Then he took a third.
After he had swallowed them, he ran his tongue around his teeth.
His mouth tasted all sugary.
He stared at the jar.
He could feel his heart begin to pound.
He put the top back on the jar.
There was a sound at the door.
“Forgot my sweater,” Matthew said.
Richard nodded. He kept his mouth closed tight.
“I wish we'd win,” Matthew said.
“Mmm,” Richard said. He pressed his lipstogether a little harder. He hoped Matthew couldn't smell the Candy Corn.
Maybe Matthew couldn't smell anything, Richard thought. If he could, he might take a bath.
“I saw Ms. Rooney counting all the Candy Corn,” Matthew said. “At lunchtime.”
“Oh,” Richard said.
“She wrote the number right on the bottom of the jar,” Matthew said.
“I wouldn't look,” Richard said. He tried not to move his lips too much.
“I wouldn't look either,” said Matthew. He moved the jar around a little. “Ms. Rooney said we're going to count them again. After someone wins. She said it will be a good math les-son.”
“Oh,” Richard said again.
“I'm going to work on my book to-night,” Matthew said. He held it up.
Richard couldn't read the name. “It looks good,” he said.
“I can't read the name,” Matthew said. “I can't read any of the words either. But it's aboutthe desert. And the jungle. And rain forests. I can tell by the pic-tures.”
“Neat,” Richard said. He started across the room. “I have to find Holly. She'll be mad if she has to wait.”
He hurried out the door.
What would Ms. Rooney do when she saw that three pieces of Candy Corn were gone? he wondered.
Holly was standing at the end of the hall. “Get mov-ing,” she yelled.
Maybe Ms. Rooney wouldn't find out he had eaten them.
“I'm coming,” he yelled back at Holly. “Stop rushing me.”
Ms. Rooney would find out.
She always did.