Jake Drake, Class Clown

  Maybe it was the look on Meaghan’s face. Maybe it was the way Willie sat there gulping. Or maybe it was the way Miss Bruce kept saying “out.” I don’t know what it was, but something inside my head snapped.

  I looked right at Miss Bruce and in a high, squeaky voice I said, “Mouse: m-i-c-k-e-y; mouse.”

  It took a second before everyone figured out what I had spelled. Then it sounded like every kid in the room took a deep breath. And held it.

  Miss Bruce stared at me through her big glasses. “That was not the right word!”

  So I kept using my best Mickey Mouse voice, and I said, “Heh, heh—well then, I guess I’m out.”

  I also guessed I was in trouble. But part of me didn’t care.

  Miss Bruce’s face turned bright red. The paper in her hands started to shake. She looked like a cat when it’s about to pounce.

  Then Miss Bruce took three steps toward my chair. She frowned and said, “Jake, that was not funny!”

  I took a quick look around the room. Everyone was grinning. And Willie was about to explode.

  Miss Bruce was wrong. It was funny. Very funny.

  Did Miss Bruce start yelling at me? Did she tell me to march down to the principal’s office? Did she say, “I’ll see you after school, Jake Drake!”

  No.

  Miss Bruce looked down at the seating chart. She kept looking at it for about five seconds—the longest five seconds of my life. And all that time I kept watching her face.

  Then Miss Bruce looked up and said, “Annie, the word is still ‘mouse.’ Spell it, please—correctly.”

  And after Annie spelled it, Miss Bruce just went on with the spelling bee. She acted like nothing had happened!

  But something had happened—actually, two things had happened:

  The first thing was, I had done something silly in front of the whole class. Everybody had almost laughed out loud—they thought I was really funny! That had never happened before, and I kind of liked it. Plus, I hadn’t gotten in trouble. Amazing!

  The second thing that happened was more like a mystery. Because I wasn’t really sure it had happened. It had happened—that is, maybe it had happened—when Miss Bruce was looking down at her seating chart, when I was watching her face. And here’s the mystery: I thought I saw something.

  Something I’d never seen before.

  There on Miss Bruce’s face. Just for a second.

  And it had looked sort of like… a smile.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Secret Information

  By the time we had library period on Monday, I was sure I’d made a mistake about what I saw on Friday. Miss Bruce smiling? Even a tiny little smile? No way.

  All Monday morning we worked so hard. Miss Bruce pushed and pushed at us, every second. Math sheets, map skills, reading books, spelling drills. Even morning recess wasn’t fun because we knew there was more work waiting for us. More work and no smiles.

  But right before lunch we went to the library. Library period was great. A whole hour and tons of books. And no Miss Bruce. I mean, she was there, but she had to leave us alone for a while.

  When we got there, I waved at Mrs. Brattle because she was helping in the library. She smiled and waved back.

  Then I went to look for my Robin Hood book.

  Robin Hood was my favorite book back when I was in second grade. I had never checked it out, because then I probably would have finished reading it in two days. I only read it during library period. That way, it lasted longer. Like a good jawbreaker.

  I knew right where to look, and the book was there.

  All the soft chairs were filled up. Plus it was sort of noisy at the front of the media center. So I took my book to the back of the big room, where it was quiet.

  I sat on the carpet between some shelves. I leaned against the wall. Then I opened the book, and there I was: Me and Robin Hood and Little John, riding our horses through Sherwood Forest.

  I was really into the story when I heard someone say, “I have to talk with you.” And the voice wasn’t in my book. It was in the library.

  And I knew that voice. It was Miss Bruce.

  And I thought, Great. I’m at the best part of my book, and she has to talk with me.

  I started to stand up. Then another voice said, “All right, Hannah. We can talk right here.”

  And I knew that voice too. It was Mrs. Brattle. On the other side of the bookshelves. Three feet away.

  I guess I could have made a noise. Or I could have stood up and started to look at the books on the shelf so they would see me.

  But I didn’t. I thought maybe I’d get in trouble for being way in the back of the library. Maybe they’d both yell at me.

  So I froze. I just sat there.

  I tried not to listen. I even put my hands over my ears. But I heard them anyway.

  Mrs. Brattle said, “Sorry I didn’t have time to talk with you on Friday afternoon. How’s everything going?”

  Miss Bruce said, “Well, something happened right before lunch on Friday… and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Oh?” said Mrs. Brattle. “What happened?”

  And what did Miss Bruce talk about? She talked about me. She told Mrs. Brattle all about my big joke during the spelling bee.

  And sitting there, I couldn’t believe my ears. You know how you can tell a lot from hearing someone’s voice? Well, even without seeing her, I could tell Miss Bruce was smiling. Smiling!

  She even giggled a little and said, “I wish you could have seen Jake’s face. He was so funny! He’s such a cutie. I almost cracked up!”

  Mrs. Brattle said, “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t. Once you start laughing along with the kids, things can get out of hand very quickly.”

  “That’s what my college teacher said too,” said Miss Bruce. “She told us that the rule is, ‘Don’t smile until Christmas.’”

  Mrs. Brattle chuckled and said, “Yes, I learned that too, and it’s a good rule, especially when you’re just starting out. Or when you’re a substitute. Sometimes all it takes is one smile, and the kids will think they can get away with anything.”

  It was quiet for a few seconds. Then Miss Bruce said, “What do you think? Should I do something about Jake?”

  “Jake?” said Mrs. Brattle. “Don’t worry. He’s a good boy. Still, you’ll have to keep your eye on him. But if that’s your biggest problem, then it sounds like you’re doing just fine. Now, we’d better get back up front to the kids. It’s getting a little too loud up there.”

  Then their voices got softer as they walked away.

  I sat there on the floor. My heart was pounding. My mouth was dry.

  I crawled forward and peeked around the corner of the shelf. When no one was looking, I slipped out and moved to a different part of the library.

  I felt like a second-grade spy. And now I had some secret information: Miss Bruce wasn’t an alien. She knew how to smile. And giggle.

  Plus, she thought I was a cutie.

  And best of all, she thought I was funny.

  When you’re only eight years old, and you get this kind of secret information, it can start something.

  And that something is called trouble.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Unstoppable

  All during lunch on Monday, I wanted to tell Willie. I wanted to tell him that Miss Bruce was a giggler. And that I was a cutie.

  But I didn’t. Because the best part of a secret is the part that makes it a secret. And that’s keeping it.

  Back in our room after lunch recess, I wasn’t sure what to do. So for a while I didn’t do anything. Except more work. Because right after lunch we had silent reading.

  Miss Bruce told us to read a story in our reading books. Anyone who finished was supposed to read a second story. And anyone who finished the second story was supposed to read a third story. That way, the fast readers would keep busy while the slow readers were finishing the first story.

  And then when everyone was done re
ading the first story, we were going to talk about it.

  I was a pretty fast reader back in second grade, so I was almost done with the third story when Miss Bruce clapped her hands twice and said, “All right, class. Everyone please turn to page seventy-seven in your reading book. Let’s begin by talking about who was in this story.” Miss Bruce looked down at the seating chart and said, “Andrea, can you tell us the name of one person who was in the story?”

  And Andrea did. She said, “Jim.”

  Which wasn’t so hard. There were only three people in the whole story. And the story was only twelve pages long. Plus it had lots of pictures.

  Then Carlos told the next who, and Lisa told the last who.

  So we were done with the who part. Which had been pretty boring. I thought Mrs. Brattle would have done it better.

  But that’s why Miss Bruce was there. So she could learn to be less boring. Someday. Maybe.

  After the who came the where.

  Miss Bruce said, “Now, tell the class where the story happened, Link.”

  Which was also super easy.

  Except Link wasn’t listening.

  Link shoved something under the table and looked at Miss Bruce. And Link had that look in his eyes: the lost look.

  Link said, “Um… where? Oh, yeah… where. Um… what was the question?”

  Miss Bruce tilted her head and looked down at where Link had his hands under the table. Then her eyes got narrow and she pushed her lips together.

  And I knew what was going to happen next. I could see it all: Miss Bruce was going to walk over and hold out her hand. Then she would say, “Link, give me that.” And Link would pull out a comic book, or a toy, or something else really stupid. Then Miss Bruce would stare at him until he was really scared. She would make Link feel bad about not paying attention. Just like she had done to Laura and Meaghan.

  Back in second grade, Link wasn’t very nice. Most of the time he was a bully. So it wasn’t very often that I felt sorry for Link.

  But I did. At that moment, I felt sorry for him. And I felt sort of mad at Miss Bruce. Because I felt like she was sort of being a bully too.

  So before Miss Bruce had a chance to walk over to Link, I raised my hand and started waving it around.

  Miss Bruce turned and looked at me.

  She didn’t want to call on me. I could tell she wasn’t done with Link. I kept waving my hand in the air anyway.

  So Miss Bruce said, “Yes, Jake?” She knew my name without looking at the seating chart.

  I said, “I think I know where the story happened.”

  Miss Bruce wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to go after Link, but now she had called on me, and I had an answer. So she said, “Well, then… then tell us, Jake. Where?”

  “Well… ,” I said slowly, “I’m not exactly sure…”

  She said quickly, “Then just tell us where you think the story happened, Jake.” Miss Bruce wanted to finish with me and get back to Link.

  I said, “So I should just tell you? Like right now?”

  She nodded her head at me.

  Even slower, I said, “Even if I’m not completely sure?”

  Miss Bruce said, “Yes, Jake. Even if it’s only a guess. Where do you think this story happened?”

  I looked Miss Bruce right in the eye and I said, “Well, I… I think it happened… on Earth!”

  I kept staring into Miss Bruce’s eyes. I heard a girl behind me giggle. But I didn’t smile. I tried not to blink. I just waited.

  Every kid in the room knew I had made a joke. Miss Bruce knew it too. But I kept acting like I was serious.

  If she still thought I was a cutie, Miss Bruce did a good job of not showing it. She pushed her lips together into a thin line and glared at me. Then she said, “Yes. That’s true. Of course the story happened on Earth, Jake.” No smile. Not even a hint.

  She turned back to Link. And now Link had his hand up. Whatever he had been hiding under the desk was gone.

  Miss Bruce nodded at him and Link said, “The story happened by the ocean, right?”

  “Yes, Link,” said Miss Bruce. Then she took a deep breath. I thought she was going to walk over to Link and get mad at him anyway. Or maybe she would turn and get mad at me.

  But she didn’t. She let out her deep breath. Then she looked down at her seating chart again. She said, “Now, Ted, can you tell me what happened in our story?”

  Ted was having a hard time. The corners of his mouth were wiggling. He wanted to smile, but he knew he’d better not.

  I looked around the room. Half the kids in the class were smiling, and the other half were trying not to, like Ted.

  There was only one person in the whole room who wasn’t having any fun. And that was Miss Bruce.

  But I wasn’t thinking about Miss Bruce, not right then. I was too busy. I was enjoying myself. Because for the second time in two days, I’d done something funny. And I’d gotten away with it both times!

  I was the new class clown. I was unstoppable.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mr. Funny Bone

  When I got home from school on Monday afternoon, I asked my mom if I could have a snack. Because being so funny had made me hungry.

  So Mom made me some peanut butter on crackers. Plus a glass of milk.

  As I was eating I started to think. I tried to remember other times I had been funny at school. Like back when I was in first grade. Or kindergarten. I tried to remember. And I couldn’t think of any.

  And now, all of sudden, I had made everyone want to start laughing—twice! And it had been so easy. I hadn’t even been trying that hard.

  I stopped right in the middle of drinking my milk. And I thought to myself, If you’re this funny without even trying, think how funny you could be if you worked at it! I decided I could probably become the funniest kid in the history of the universe! And I could start the very next day!

  If I was going to be super funny, I’d need super jokes. And I’d have to tell them just right.

  So I went to find Abby. She’s my little sister. When I was in second grade, Abby was in kindergarten. I found her in her room listening to a story cassette of The Three Little Pigs.

  I went over to the cassette player and shut it off.

  Abby said, “Hey! Put it back on!”

  “Wait,” I said, “because I want to try telling you some jokes. Okay?”

  Abby crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t want jokes. I want the pigs.”

  “C’mon,” I said. “It’ll be fun. Are you ready?”

  Abby scratched her knee. And made a face at the ceiling. And sat up on the edge of her bed. Then she said, “Okay.”

  So I said, “Knock, knock.”

  Abby wrinkled her nose. She said, “What?”

  “I said, ‘Knock, knock.’ You know—it’s a knock-knock joke.”

  Abby shook her head. “That’s not funny.”

  “That’s ’cause the joke’s not over yet. Listen,” I said. “I say ‘Knock, knock,’ then you say ‘Who’s there?’, okay?” Then I said, “Knock, knock.”

  And Abby said, “Who’s there, okay?”

  “No,” I said. “You just say ‘Who’s there?’ That’s all you say. Just ‘Who’s there?’ Now, let’s try it again. Ready?”

  Abby nodded her head.

  So I said, “Knock, knock.”

  And Abby said, “Who’s there?”

  And I said, “Toodle.”

  And Abby laughed. She clapped her hands and said, “Toodle’s funny. Tell another one.”

  “No, no,” I said. “‘Toodle’ isn’t the funny part. I say ‘Knock, knock.’ Then you say ‘Who’s there?’ Then I say ‘Toodle,’ and then you say ‘Toodle who?’ and then I finish the joke.”

  Abby looked at me. She said, “Toodle was funny. I don’t want more joke.”

  “C’mon,” I said. “I have to finish it, okay? I’m going to start over again.”

  Abby frowned. “Don’t want to.”

  But
I said, “Knock, knock.”

  And Abby said, “Who’s there, okay?”

  “No!” I yelled. “You just say ‘Who’s there?’ Get it right, Abby!”

  Abby shook her head. And then she yelled, “Mommeeee! MOMMEEEE!” Abby can really yell.

  Mom ran up the stairs and into Abby’s room in about two seconds. “What’s the matter—are you hurt?” Then Mom saw me. She said, “Oh! Jake. Good. You’re here too. Is everyone all right? Why did you call me like that, Abby?”

  Abby pointed at me. “Because of him. He won’t stop making a joke.”

  Mom frowned at me. “Have you been teasing Abby again, Jake?”

  “No!” I said. “I’m not teasing her. I’m just trying to tell one stupid little knock-knock joke. And she can’t even do it. And it’s driving me crazy!”

  Mom said, “Well, why don’t you tell me the knock-knock joke. Then Abby can listen and see how it works, all right?”

  I said, “Okay. Knock, knock.”

  And Mom said, “Who’s there?”

  And I said, “Toodle.”

  And Mom said, “Toodle who?”

  And I said, “Toodle-oo to you too!”

  Mom smiled and nodded. She said, “That’s a good one.”

  Abby shook her head. “No. Just toodle. Toodle was better.”

  And that’s when I went to my room. To practice telling jokes by myself.

  I stood in front of the mirror that’s above my dresser. I looked at myself and I started telling jokes.

  Knock, knock.

  Who’s there?

  Seven, eight, nine.

  Seven, eight, nine who?

  Sven ate nine cookies!

  Knock, knock.

  Who’s there?

  Robins go.

  Robins go who?

  No! Robins go tweet; owls go who!

  What goes “Ha ha bonk”?

  A man who laughs his head off!

  If I had five baseballs in one hand, and I had five baseballs in the other, what would I have?

  Really BIG hands!