by Gary Paulsen
OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:
THE MONUMENT, Gary Paulsen
THE RIVER, Gary Paulsen
THE COOKCAMP, Gary Paulsen
THE VOYAGE OF THE FROG, Gary Paulsen
THE BOY WHO OWNED THE SCHOOL, Gary Paulsen
HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO GET FABULOUSLY RICH, Thomas Rockwell
CHOCOLATE FEVER, Robert Kimmel Smith
BOBBY BASEBALL, Robert Kimmel Smith
YEARLING BOOKS/YOUNG YEARLINGS/YEARLING CLASSICS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.
For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,
write to Dell Readers Service,
P.O. Box 1045, South Holland, IL 60473.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1995 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The trademark Yearling® is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
The trademark Dell®2 is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80382-5
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Books by Yearling
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
The Culpepper Cupid Quiz by Amos Binder, The Love God
Scoring Your Official Cupid Quiz: by Dunc Culpepper, The Voice of Reason
Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper sat on the ground in his front yard with his back against the porch. He was watching his best friend for life, Amos Binder, pace up and down the sidewalk.
“The school nurse said Melissa would be okay, Amos.”
“I know what she said, but did you see the size of that goose egg on her forehead?”
“It’ll go down. How did it happen, anyway?”
Amos stopped pacing and dropped to the ground beside him. “I was on my way to science class. Mrs. Leach said we were going to be dissecting earthworms, and I was thinking about all those poor little worms that were about to lose their lives.”
“What do earthworms have to do with you knocking down Melissa Hansen?”
“Don’t you ever wonder about some of the defenseless creatures we slice up in science lab? You know, like does it hurt and stuff?”
“Amos.”
“Some of those worms could have families. We could be chopping up someone’s mother or grandmother, or—”
“Amos! What happened to Melissa?”
“Like I said. I was thinking about the worms when I heard the pay phone ring outside the nurse’s office.”
“So?”
“So I figured since Melissa knows I have to pass the nurse’s office on my way to science class, she was calling to talk to me. She probably wanted to see how my day was going and talk about the worms and things like that.”
Dunc nodded. He knew Amos was crazy in love with Melissa Hansen and that he had this strange idea she might actually call him someday. She had never called him in her entire life and gave no indication that she ever would. In fact, Melissa gave no indication that she knew Amos existed as a life-form. But that didn’t stop Amos from hoping.
“Anyway,” Amos continued, “I was in a real hurry to get to the phone, on account of she likes me to get it on that all-important first ring and everything. So I crawled up on Jerk Jergin’s back and yelled for everybody to make way. I knew they would move because Jerk’s a pretty good-sized kid.”
Dunc nodded again. “He should be. He’s been in the same grade for the last six years. I heard a rumor that he has a wife, two kids, and an after-school job at the steel mill.”
“That’s why I chose him,” Amos said. “But it didn’t quite work the way I planned.”
“What happened?”
“I think I must have caught Jerk a little off guard. He pulled me up over the top of his head and wadded me up into a ball. Then he sort of punted me to the end of the hall. That’s when I hit Melissa. It wasn’t her on the phone after all.” Amos stood up and started pacing again. “It was awful. I slammed her face into a bank of lockers. She’ll probably never forgive me.”
“Try not to worry, Amos. The nurse said Melissa was unconscious for a few minutes and doesn’t remember anything that happened.”
“Somebody is bound to tell her, and then she’ll probably want to cancel our date.”
“Amos, you know you don’t have a date with Melissa.”
“I don’t yet. But I was planning on asking her to the Winter Harvest Dance.”
“Amos, it’s spring. Early spring. The Winter Harvest Dance isn’t until next year.”
“I know, but I wanted to give her plenty of time to think about it.”
Dunc stood and stretched. “I better get started on my homework.” He picked up the newspaper on his way into the house.
Amos followed him. The screen door banged shut behind him. “You can’t do homework now! I’m having a crisis!”
Dunc headed for the kitchen. “I’m having a peanut butter and jelly.”
“How can you eat or do homework at a time like this?”
Dunc carefully wiped the peanut butter off the knife, rinsed it, and put it away. “The way I see it, you really don’t have a problem.”
Amos stared at him. “No problem? Melissa may never speak to me again.”
“That’s what I mean. She’s never spoken to you before, so you haven’t lost anything.”
Amos sighed. “Maybe I should go over and apologize.”
Dunc shook his head. “She’s probably resting. And besides, there’s still a chance she doesn’t know it was you. If I were you, I’d wait until social studies class tomorrow and see if she acts different or anything.”
“I don’t know …”
“Trust me.”
“You had to say that. Every time you say that, something goes wrong.”
Dunc ignored him. “Are you doing your homework over here?”
“I don’t have any homework.”
“What about the essay Mrs. Wormwood gave us on the family? We’re supposed to do five pages.”
Amos waved his hand. “Oh, that. I’ll do it during passing period tomorrow.”
“You can’t do a five-page paper in five minutes—while you’re walking.”
“Why not?”
Dunc sighed. “Come on. I’ll help you write your paper.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Where’s your homework?” Dunc pedaled his bike close to Amos so he could hear.
&n
bsp; “It’s in my back pocket.”
“You put a five-page report in your back pocket?”
Amos nodded. “It was a tight fit, but I kept folding and stuffing until it all went in.” He stood on the pedals to show Dunc the bulge in his back pocket.
“Did it ever occur to you that you might get a better grade if your report wasn’t all crumpled up?”
Amos shook his head. “You don’t understand teachers. You have to try and think like them. If you were a teacher and you came to a paper with no wrinkles, in perfect condition, with my name on it, what would you think?”
“That someone else did it.”
“Bingo!”
Dunc coasted for a few feet. “Still, you should make an effort …”
Amos wasn’t listening. They were passing Melissa’s house. He always rode by slowly in hopes that he might catch a glimpse of her.
They were almost to the end of the block when he saw her. She was standing at the window. Her long golden hair was blowing in the wind.
“Look, Dunc! There she is.”
“Watch where you’re going, Amos! You nearly ran into me.”
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“I guess. If you don’t count that ugly purple bruise and the bandage on her forehead.” Dunc pedaled up ahead. “We’re going to be late for school if you don’t come on.”
Amos was about to turn and follow, when the most unthinkable thing in the whole world happened.
Melissa looked down from the window—and waved.
Amos was stunned. He stared until he lost control of his bike and rammed a fire hydrant. When Dunc came back for him, Amos was on the ground wearing the front wheel of his bicycle around his neck.
“Are you okay?”
“She loves me!”
Dunc pulled the wheel off of Amos’s head and put it back on the front of the bike. He stood on the frame and tried to straighten it. “I don’t know if you can ride it. You may have to push it to school.” He looked at Amos. “Can you walk?”
“Walk? I can fly! Melissa waved at me.”
Dunc glanced at Melissa’s house. He didn’t see anyone. He looked back at Amos, who was sitting on the ground with an absurd grin on his face. “You’re imagining things again.”
“No, really.” Amos pointed at the house. “She stood at that window, looked right at me, and waved.”
Dunc studied the window. The curtains were flapping in the breeze. “I’m sure it was an optical illusion. Come on, we’re going to miss first period.”
Amos stood and took one last look at the house. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. No one was at the window. “It seemed real. I saw her dimples and everything.”
Amos threw his leg over his bike and tried to pedal. Only one pedal worked, the front tire flopped as it went around, and from the back, his bike looked like it was traveling sideways.
Dunc rode more slowly so Amos could keep up. “It’s funny how the mind can play tricks on you. I read a book once where this guy went without eating for two weeks, and he thought he saw George Washington crossing the Delaware.”
Amos frowned. “But it seemed so real! She looked right at me.”
“Optical illusions always seem real. People in the desert who are dying of thirst sometimes think they see water and actually start swimming in the sand.” Dunc looked back at him. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It happens all the time.”
“If you say so …”
A station wagon pulled up beside them and stopped at the stop sign. Melissa’s mother was driving her to school. Melissa looked out the passenger window. She saw Amos—and smiled.
Amos’s eyes popped wide open. He stared at the car instead of watching where he was going. He ran through the Swansons’ white picket fence and landed headfirst in their rose bushes.
When Dunc heard the crash, he turned around and rode back to his friend. “You definitely have a problem.”
“But she”—Amos sputtered—“you didn’t see. She … I saw her.…”
Dunc helped him up. “It’s okay, Amos. I’ll talk to your parents. We’ll get you some professional help.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You look a little pale.” Dunc helped Amos lock what was left of his bike to the bike rack.
Amos headed toward the school in a daze. “Melissa … car … smile …”
Dunc led him through the double doors and down the hall. “Here’s your class, Amos. Do you think you’ll be all right?”
Amos walked into his math class muttering, “Waved … me … love … Melissa.”
By lunchtime, Dunc thought Amos seemed a little better. He still wasn’t quite back to normal, but he was able to speak in semi-intelligent sentences.
Dunc pushed him through the cafeteria line. He took Amos’s elbow and led him to a table. When they were seated, Dunc reached into his book bag, took out a thick book, and plopped it on the table.
“Do you see this, Amos? This book is going to help us get to the root of your problem.” He watched Amos dip a piece of lettuce in his chocolate milk.
Dunc winced and took a deep breath. “This is a book on psychiatric abnormalities. Chapter fourteen describes you perfectly. It says when a person thinks about another person to the point of shutting out everything else, he may begin to imagine that he actually has a relationship with that person. Are you following me so far?”
Amos nodded and dipped another piece of lettuce. “Melissa loves me.”
“No, Amos. That’s what I’m talking about. She doesn’t love you. It says right here in the book—you imagined the whole thing, and you made your mind believe it was real.”
Amos squinted at the book and scratched his head. “I don’t think that’s the way it happened.”
“The book says there are several methods of treatment we can try. I personally think we should go with the electric shock therapy. That’s the one where we run electric currents through your brain over and over until you’re all better.”
Amos looked at him. “And you think I’m crazy?”
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t like that one.” Dunc ran his finger down the page. “How about ‘deprogramming’?”
“Does it have anything to do with electricity?”
“No. What you do on this one is tell yourself out loud over and over that what you think happened—didn’t happen.”
“But Dunc, I saw her …”
“You thought you saw her. But in reality you only saw what your mind wanted you to see.” Dunc patted the book. “It’s all right here on page three hundred and seven.”
Amos looked confused. “If you say so.”
“Let’s try it. Tell yourself it didn’t happen.”
“It didn’t happen. But Dunc—”
“No buts. If you want it to work, you have to keep saying it until you’ve put the whole thing out of your mind, and then you’ll be cured.”
Amos started. “It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.…”
Dunc kept a tally on the back of a napkin. “You’re doing great, Amos. You’re up to a hundred fifty-seven. Is it out of your system yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“We want to be sure. Keep going until the bell rings.”
“I feel a lot better.” Amos followed Dunc down the hall. “I should be fine now.”
“That’s good, because Melissa is in our next class—social studies. Now remember, if your mind starts playing tricks on you, just tell yourself it didn’t happen, and it will go away.”
The boys sat down in the back of the classroom just as the bell rang. Dunc took out his social studies homework. Amos checked his back pocket but couldn’t find his. It had worked its way out somewhere between gym class and the cafeteria.
Mrs. Wormwood was writing on the board when the door opened and Melissa walked in. The teacher turned. “Young lady, you’re late.”
Melissa flashed one of her most angelic smiles. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wormwood. I was doing an errand for the pri
ncipal.”
Mrs. Wormwood patted her on the head. “I was sure an honor student like yourself wouldn’t be late without a good reason. Sit down, dear.”
Melissa moved to her desk. But before she sat down, she turned to Amos—and winked.
Amos dropped his head on his desk and closed his eyes. “It’s not real. It didn’t happen. It’s not real.…”
Mrs. Wormwood cleared her throat. “Now, class. Today we will begin working on a special project dealing with living skills. You will each choose a partner …”
Dunc looked over at Amos. Amos was hitting his head against his desk and mumbling under his breath.
“… of the opposite sex, who will be your pretend husband or wife for the next week. We will conduct a mock marriage ceremony. You and your partner will set up a budget for rent, groceries, bills, and other expenses. Your grade will depend on how well you work together with your partner, how realistic your budget is, and, of course, how well it balances. Any questions?”
Herman Snodgrass wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and raised his hand.
“Yes, Herman?”
“Do we have to do it?”
Mrs. Wormwood gave him the look. “No, Herman. Not if you would rather flunk my class and have me for your teacher again next year.”
Herman slid down in his seat and stuck out his bottom lip. “No way.”
A group of girls in the front row giggled.
Mrs. Wormwood slapped her desk with a yardstick. “Order. I want order.” The yardstick broke and the whole class burst out laughing.
Dunc used the opportunity to whisper to Amos, “Are you okay?”
“It didn’t happen.… I only imagined it.… It never really happened.”
Mrs. Wormwood finally gained control of the class. “Since there are fewer girls than boys in our class, we will begin our project by letting the girls choose the partner they would like to work with. When I call your name, please stand and tell me the name of the partner you have chosen.”
“Bertha Abercromby?”
Amos opened one eye and looked up at Tall Bertha. She stood beside her desk with her finger in her mouth and glanced around the room. For one awful moment her eyes rested on him, but then she looked away. He let out a deep sigh of relief.
