by Louis Sachar
“Oh, you’re the real smart kid, aren’t you?” said Gary.
Angeline didn’t answer.
“Angeline Persopolis,” said Gary. “Hmm, I don’t think I can combine those two names.” But then he thought a moment and said, “Angelopolis.”
Angeline laughed. She tried to think of one too. “It’s too bad your name isn’t Melvin,” she finally said. “Then you could be the Moon.”
Gary laughed. Not only did she laugh at his jokes, but she also liked to play along!
“Do you know any more good jokes?” she asked him.
No one had ever asked him that before. He tried to think of his best joke but, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of one. His mind just went blank.
The bell rang. He quickly took off his shoe, then put it back on.
“What did you do that for?” asked Angeline.
“Do what?” asked Gary.
“Take your shoe off, then put it on again.”
Gary looked around in confusion, utterly bewildered. “I don’t know,” he said.
Four
No Tomatoes
Angeline lay on the floor, her feet on the sofa, as she read her book about the lovelorn sailor. The sailor didn’t know it, but the day after he set sail, the beautiful lady suddenly realized that she loved him too, more than anything else in the world. So she got a boat of her own and sailed the seas in search of him and was almost eaten by a shark.
Abel came home from work. “Don’t hug me until I take a shower,” he said, but she hugged him anyway.
“Look,” said Abel. “I brought you a present. It’s wrapped in plastic so it doesn’t smell.” He set it down on the end table at the end of the sofa.
Angeline crawled over the sofa and eagerly tore away the plastic. It was a book called The Philosophical Substructures of Psychological Subcultures. With a title like that, no amount of plastic could keep it from smelling.
“Thank you,” she said politely, and tried her best to look happy despite the awful odor emanating from the book.
“I hope it is smart enough for you,” said Abel.
“Oh, it looks like a real smart book,” Angeline assured him.
She put the book on the bookshelf along with all the other smelly books her father had given her. She wished he’d just bring her a book with a good story and lots of funny jokes.
“Gus is coming over for dinner,” Abel announced after his shower.
Angeline’s face lit up. “Oh, good!” Gus was Abel’s partner. They drove the garbage truck together.
Abel knew she didn’t like the book. Gus had told him she wouldn’t like it, but he bought it anyway. Gus had told him to find a book with a good story and lots of jokes. “They don’t even have to be funny jokes,” Gus had said. “Angelini will laugh anyway.”
When Gus arrived, Angeline let him in. “Hello, Gus,” she greeted.
“Hello, Angelini,” said Gus.
“We’re having chili,” she told him.
“Sounds good,” said Gus.
“Do you like it hot?” she asked. “I mean spicy hot, not hot hot.”
“The hotter the better,” said Gus.
“Me too,” said Angeline, “only not too hot.”
Abel was in the kitchen. He accidentally touched the hot pot of chili with his thumb. “Ow!” he exclaimed. He walked into the living room with his thumb in his mouth.
“Cute,” said Gus.
“Oh, hi, Gus,” said Abel. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Angelini let me in. We decided we like our chili the hotter the better, only not too hot.”
“You want a beer?” Abel offered.
“Thanks,” said Gus.
“I want a beer, too,” said Angeline.
“Don’t act cute just because Gus is here,” Abel told her.
She blushed. She was acting cute and it was because of Gus. “I’m not acting cute,” she insisted. She didn’t want Gus to know that she was acting cute for him.
Abel walked back into the kitchen to get the beer.
Gus poked Angeline in the side. “You can have a sip of my beer, cutie,” he whispered.
She giggled.
She set the table while Gus helped Abel in the kitchen. She couldn’t remember on which side to put the fork and on which side to put the spoon. It wasn’t one of the things she knew before she was born.
“Do you want salad, Angelini?” Gus called from the kitchen.
“Do we have any French dressing?” she called back to him.
“No, but we have some French undressing,” said Gus.
Angeline laughed hysterically.
“See?” Gus told Abel. “They don’t even have to be funny jokes.”
Abel smiled. He wished he could make Angeline laugh like Gus, but he hadn’t been able to tell her a joke for a long time, either funny or unfunny. He couldn’t even say “Angelini” without choking on it.
Angeline put the knives, forks, and spoons around the table, sometimes on the left and sometimes on the right. She knew it had to be correct in one of the places. “Okay, I’ll have salad with French undressing,” she called. “But no tomatoes in mine.”
“Sorry!” Gus called back. “There aren’t any tomatoes.”
“Good!” she yelled. “I don’t want a tomato.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” said Gus, “because there aren’t any. And if you think I’m going all the way to the store just to get you a tomato—”
“But I don’t want a tomato!” she screamed.
“You can scream all you want,” said Gus. “You still can’t have one.”
“Good!” she yelled. “Excellent! I’m glad we don’t have any tomatoes. I don’t want a tomato. I hate tomatoes!”
Gus stood at the kitchen door and sadly shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, Angelini,” he said. “I really am. But I’m afraid we just don’t have any.”
She threw her hands up in the air and gave a loud sigh. Gus laughed.
They ate the salad, chili, and soda crackers. Nobody seemed to care whether the forks, knives, or spoons were on the right side or not.
“What’s the weather forecast for tomorrow?” Gus asked.
“Hold on, I’ll check,” said Angeline. She walked to the kitchen window and listened.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,” Abel whispered, so only Gus could hear.
“Why not?” Gus asked. “She’s always right. I think it’s great.”
“I don’t,” said Abel. “Okay?”
Gus shrugged. “Okay,” he said.
When Angeline got back she told them that it was going to be very hot, especially hot for October. Abel politely thanked her.
“Gus, can I ride around with you and my father in the garbage truck sometime?” she asked.
“Now, what do you want to do that for?” Gus asked. “It smells in there.”
“I want to,” said Angeline. “Besides, I like the smell.”
“You belong in school,” said Gus.
“School smells,” said Angeline.
Gus laughed. “I never liked school either,” he said, “but that was because I wasn’t too smart. If I was as smart as you, I would have loved school. Someday you’ll appreciate it.”
“You never know,” said Angeline.
“It’s kind of tough on her now,” said Abel. “All the other kids in her class are a lot older. She doesn’t have any friends.”
“I do too,” Angeline insisted. “I have one friend. Gary Boone. He’s my best friend. He’s so funny. He knows so many jokes.”
“Good,” said Abel. “I’m glad you’re finally making friends.”
“Just one friend,” corrected Angeline. “Just Gary. All the other kids are goons.”
Five
Mr. Bone
Before, when Gary took off his shoe and put it back on and Angeline asked him why he did it and he said he didn’t know, well, actually he had a very good reason. There was a pebble in his shoe. It
had been there almost the whole lunch period, but because he was so amazed that Angeline had said she liked his jokes and even laughed and everything, he didn’t think about the pebble. Then when the bell rang and it was time to go in, he simply took off his shoe, dumped the pebble out, and put his shoe back on. That’s all. But when Angeline asked him why he did it, well, he forgot.
He was in the fifth grade, in Miss Turbone’s class. He called her “Mr. Bone.”
The first time he called her that, on the first day of school, it was just a joke, like Goon or Angelopolis. But like all his jokes, nobody noticed—not even Miss Turbone. After that, no matter how hard he tried to say “Miss Turbone,” it always came out “Mr. Bone.”
He liked her a lot. In fact, until he met Angeline, she was his favorite person at the school. Now she was his second favorite.
She had a soft face and pretty brown hair, and she wore big round glasses. He loved her glasses. He thought she looked prettier with the glasses on than without them.
“Okay, who knows the answer?” asked Miss Turbone.
“Uh-oh,” thought Gary. He didn’t even know the question. He looked down at his desk, hiding, like the way an ostrich hides by sticking its head in the sand. He hoped Mr. Bone wouldn’t call on him.
Miss Turbone looked at Gary. She could tell by the way that he was looking down at his desk that he didn’t know the answer. Some teachers, like Mrs. Hardlick, would have called on him for just that reason. Some hunters like to shoot ostriches that have their heads buried in the sand. Miss Turbone called on somebody else.
She liked Gary. She felt sorry for him because all the other kids called him “Goon” and he didn’t have any friends, but besides that, she also liked him. However, she didn’t think a great deal of his jokes. She didn’t know he called her “Mr. Bone.” She might have thought that one was funny.
When the bell rang and all the other kids left for lunch, she told Gary she wanted to talk to him.
He walked up to her desk. “Yes, Mr. Bone.”
It sounded like “Miss Turbone” to her, probably because that was what she expected to hear. “Can you stay after school today?” she asked.
“I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“No,” laughed Miss Turbone. “I’m going to set up a couple of fish tanks on the back ledge. I thought you might like to help me.”
“Okay,” said Gary. “May I ask a friend to help us, too?”
“A friend?” questioned Miss Turbone.
“Oh, sure, Mr. Bone,” said Gary. “I have lots of friends.”
Miss Turbone smiled. “You may invite anyone you’d like, Gary,” she said. She was glad he had made a friend.
“Her name’s Angeline,” said Gary. “You’ll like her. She’s real smart and she has a great sense of humor.” He headed outside to lunch, eager to tell Angeline about setting up the fish tanks with Mr. Bone.
“Gary,” called Miss Turbone.
He stopped and turned toward her. “Yes, Mr. Bone?”
“I’m your friend, too.”
It was a very hot day, just as Angeline had predicted. It was the hottest October fifth since they had started recording the weather.
Abel and Gus drove up and down the city streets, one house at a time, collecting people’s garbage. Sometimes Abel drove while Gus picked up the cans and dumped them in the back of the truck, and other times Gus drove and Abel did the dirty work. They traded off. Besides everything else, the hot weather made the garbage stink worse than usual, especially as the day wore on and the garbage had been out in the sun all day, baking in the heavy metal cans.
They stopped at a little park to eat their lunch. The bathrooms were locked, so they had to put their hands in front of a lawn sprinkler to wash up. It felt so good that they ran in front of the sprinkler and let it spray all over them. It was so hot that they knew that by the time they finished eating, their clothes would be dry.
Abel bit into his sandwich. “Yech!” he exclaimed. He pulled apart the bread and looked inside. “Peanut butter and jello,” he muttered, realizing that he and Angeline must have accidentally traded lunches.
“What’s this!” exclaimed Angeline, holding her sandwich away from her. She had taken one bite out of it. “Salami! I hate salami!”
“I’ll trade with you,” said Gary. “I love salami.”
“Okay,” said Angeline. “What do you have?”
“Salami,” said Gary. “I just love salami.”
They traded salami sandwiches.
“Today after school, do you want to help Mr. Bone and me set up some fish tanks?” he asked.
“Who’s Mr. Bone?” asked Angeline.
“My teacher. We’re setting up some fish tanks after school and Mr. Bone said you can help, too.”
“Okay,” said Angeline. It meant that she’d have to take the regular city bus home instead of the school bus, but she didn’t mind. She liked riding the city buses. She liked pulling the cord when it was time to signal the bus to stop. “Will they be freshwater or saltwater fish tanks?” she asked.
“Will what be freshwater or saltwater?” asked Gary with a slight smirk on his face.
“The fish tanks,” Angeline repeated.
“The fish what?” asked Gary, still smirking.
“Tanks,” said Angeline.
“You’re welcome,” said Gary.
Angeline cracked up. She thought it was the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “I hope they’re saltwater,” she said when she stopped laughing, “like the ocean.”
“I don’t know,” said Gary. “Come to room twelve. You’ll like Mr. Bone.”
Abel and Gus finished their lunch and threw their litter in the back of the truck. They didn’t have to look for a trash can. They drove one.
After school, Miss Turbone gave Gary the keys to her car and told him to bring her the package that was on the floor of the front seat. “It’s a yellow car,” she said. “It has a bumper sticker on the back that says SAVE THE WHALES.”
As Gary walked to the parking lot, he felt special. He had Mr. Bone’s keys in his hand, and he was walking to Mr. Bone’s car, and was going to open Mr. Bone’s car with Mr. Bone’s keys. It made him feel very special. He jingled the keys while he walked.
Angeline couldn’t remember if Gary had said room twelve or room twenty. She cautiously opened the door to room twelve. She thought he probably said room twelve, but then, when she opened the door and saw a lady teacher and no sign of Gary, she concluded she had gone to the wrong room.
“May I help you?” asked Miss Turbone.
“Oh. I’m looking for Mr. Bone,” said Angeline.
“I’m Miss Turbone,” said Miss Turbone.
Angeline’s eyes widened. “You’re Mr. Bone?” she questioned.
“Yes,” said Miss Turbone. “You must be Angeline. Gary will be right back.”
Angeline stared at her in amazement. “You’re Mr. Bone?” she repeated.
“That’s right,” said Miss Turbone.
Angeline still couldn’t figure it out. “You’re Mr. Bone?” she repeated again.
“Yes,” said Miss Turbone, unable to understand Angeline’s confusion. “Come in. Gary is getting something for me from my car.”
Angeline shrugged. “Okay…” she said perplexedly, “…Mr. Bone.”
Gary returned to the classroom carrying a package. “Is this it, Mr. Bone?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you, Gary.”
“Well, what do you know?” thought Angeline. “She is Mr. Bone.”
“What’s in it?” Gary asked, referring to the package he brought in. “Is it for the fish tanks?”
Miss Turbone smiled. “Why, yes, Gary,” she said. “As a matter of fact, that’s just what it’s for.”
She set the package on her desk and then they went to work setting up the fish tanks. It took them over an hour to finish both tanks, yet they still never opened the package that Gary had gotten from Miss Turbone’s car.
“What are these call
ed again, Mr. Bone?” asked Angeline.
“Fish tanks,” said Miss Turbone.
“Fish what?” asked Angeline. She smiled at Gary.
“Tanks,” said Miss Turbone.
“YOU’RE WELCOME,” Gary and Angeline said together, then Angeline laughed hysterically.
They filled one tank with fresh water and one with salt water. Angeline said she liked the saltwater best and Gary said he liked the freshwater best. “Better, not best,” corrected Miss Turbone. “When you compare two things, one can only be better, not best.”
“Do you have any fish for them?” Gary asked.
Miss Turbone smiled. “In the box you brought from my car.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Bone!” said Angeline and Gary together.
“They’ve been out of water all this time,” said Angeline.
“They’ve drowned,” said Gary.
Miss Turbone told Gary to open the box.
“I don’t want to look,” said Angeline as she peered over Gary’s shoulder.
Inside the box were three big cookies, each shaped and decorated like a fish.
“One for each of us,” said Miss Turbone, “for setting up the fish tanks.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bone,” said Angeline.
“Oh, yeah. Thank you, Mr. Bone,” said Gary.
“I’ll try to get real fish for the tanks tomorrow,” said Miss Turbone. “Right now, I’ll go get us some milk from the cafeteria for our cookies.”
Angeline thought Mr. Bone was wonderful. She knew Mrs. Hardlick would never eat a fish-shaped cookie. “I don’t want any milk with my cookie, Mr. Bone,” she said. “I’ll have a glass of salt water.”
Six
Secretary of Trash
The next morning, Angeline met Gary on the way to class.
“What’s new?” she said.
“An animal at the zoo,” said Gary.
“Huh?”
It was a joke. There is an animal at the zoo called a gnu, which is pronounced like new. So, see, when Angeline asked, “What’s new?” Gary replied, “An animal at the zoo.” After Gary explained it to her, Angeline thought it was the funniest joke she’d ever heard. Well, maybe not the funniest.
