by Raymond Bean
“Please, Mom! That’s the one. It looks like the ones right out of the movie! The other ones look like they’re made out of garbage bags.”
“I guess we can order it and return it if it’s not good quality. It does look a little too good to be true, though. The price is less than the ones that you don’t like.”
“It must be a sale. Come on, Mom. Please order it.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to be Simba?” Mom asked one last time.
“I absolutely don’t want to be Simba, and I think I’ve earned this costume after being what the girls wanted me to be all these years.”
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s just hope it’s good quality.”
“It will be,” I said. “This is going to be the best Halloween ever!”
4
What Will We Feed It To?
The rest of that week went by pretty slow. It rained every day, and we were stuck inside for recess. On Thursday, I walked into class to find an animal tank near Mrs. Cliff’s desk.
“What’s in the tank, Mrs. Cliff?” I asked.
“Please place your things in the cubby and get going on your morning work, Justin,” she said.
“But I just want to know what’s in the tank.”
“And I’m asking you to have a seat. But if you must know, the question is not what is in the tank, but what will be in the tank later today.”
I put my stuff away and got to work. I could hardly concentrate. It was driving me crazy.
After lunch, Mrs. Cliff taught us a lesson on mammals. Then she asked us to guess what mammal we thought would go in the tank.
Adam Lint raised his hand first. “A bird.”
“Birds aren’t mammals,” I interrupted.
“You’re correct, Justin, but please refrain from interrupting your peers.”
I felt a little embarrassed and annoyed. You would think she’d appreciate the help. That’s one of the problems with Mrs. Cliff. She has so many rules that I feel like I can’t be myself. I wasn’t trying to be rude or obnoxious. I was just trying to help out. Sure, I should have raised my hand, but when in life do you have to raise your hand other than in a class? It doesn’t seem like good practice for the real world.
Finally, Cynthia Murt guessed a mouse. Half the class said, “Eewwww,” and the other half thought it was cool.
“You’re right, Cynthia,” said Mrs. Cliff. “We’ll be taking care of a little mouse named Myrtle. She is a special mouse, and over the course of the next few weeks, you’ll learn what makes her so special.”
“What are we going to feed her to?” I asked.
Mrs. Cliff looked horrified. “We’re not feeding her to anything. Why would you say something like that?”
“I feed mice to my snakes all the time,” I said. “I have a boa constrictor named Mr. Squeeze and a big garter snake that I found in the woods by my house. His name is Stanky. I named him that—”
Mrs. Cliff interrupted. “Justin, you’re interrupting again. I’m sure your snakes are very interesting, but we aren’t talking about them right now. We’re talking about our new mouse named Myrtle, and we won’t be feeding her to anyone.” She lifted a small cardboard box from behind her desk. “Myrtle is in this container. It will be our job to take care of her. Let’s break up into groups and decide what we’ll need and how we’re going to split up the duties of taking care of her.”
5
Mrs. Fiesta Is Awesome!
On the bus ride home, Aaron told me all about the cool things Mrs. Fiesta had planned for Halloween in his class.
“It’s going to be the best day ever,” he said. “We’re having all kinds of candy and stuff. Mrs. Fiesta is famous for making a bunch of gross stuff to touch, like a box of brains and a bag of intestines! Man, I can’t wait.”
“It’s not fair,” I said. “It should be the same for every class. I can’t believe you’re going to have the best day ever, and I’m going to be a few doors away listening to a bunch of research reports.”
“That’s pretty bad,” he admitted. “Mrs. Cliff is really ripping you guys off.”
I was quiet the rest of the ride home. It wasn’t fair. It made me not even want to go to her class anymore. When I got off the bus, I found Mom waiting to drive me home because the rain was pretty heavy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t stand Mrs. Cliff.”
“Oh, come on. She can’t be that bad. The woman has been teaching there since Dad was in elementary school.”
“I know. That’s probably part of the problem. She’s, like, a thousand years old and has no idea how to have fun anymore.”
“That’s not nice,” Mom said.
“I mean it. Mrs. Fiesta’s class is planning this awesome party for Halloween with candy and scary stuff, and you know what we’re doing?”
“What?”
“We’re writing reports all month and sharing them on Halloween!”
“That sounds interesting,” Mom said.
“Halloween isn’t supposed to be interesting. It’s supposed to be fun! Research reports aren’t fun. Can’t you call the principal and tell him you want me moved to Mrs. Fiesta’s class?”
“That’s not how it works, and you know it. You’ll have plenty of time to have fun on Halloween after you get home from school. It will be fun. You’ll see.”
“I don’t know. I’m not counting on it.”
When I got home, I went upstairs to feed Mr. Squeeze and Stanky. I’d almost lost Mr. Squeeze a few weeks ago, when he got out of his tank and scared my sister half to death. My parents were going to take him away, but they changed their minds and let me keep him as long as I was more careful with him. I’d found Stanky in the woods and convinced my parents to let me keep him too.
I opened my huge closet, which is where I keep their tanks, and walked in. I had emptied all my clothes out of the closet so I could keep the tanks and a few heat lamps in there. Mom says it’s a waste of a walk-in closet, but it’s the perfect place for them because even if they get out of the tanks, they’re probably not going to get out of my closet. I hadn’t mentioned it to Mom or Dad, but Mr. Squeeze was getting very powerful, and I was having a hard time keeping him in his tank. He’d managed to get out of his tank a few times, but never out of the closet.
The snakes love it when I let them out of the tanks and move around in the closet. They’re probably the luckiest snakes in the world because I snuck in a few branches and large stones from outside, which I set up to make them feel like they’re outside.
Becky opened the closet door and yelled when she saw the snakes out of the tanks.
“Quiet!” I insisted.
“You can’t have them out of the tanks!” she said.
“I know I’m not supposed to, but they’re getting really big. I have to give them time to move around.”
“Mom and Dad would totally not approve.”
“Let’s not get in an argument about it, Becky. I’ve got to let them out, but I’m being safe.”
“Mom and Dad told you specifically to leave them in their tanks because they scare me and Mindy, and I think Dad too.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. This is safe.”
“Mom!” Becky shouted.
Becky told Mom and Dad, and they grounded me for the weekend.
“What were you thinking?” Mom asked.
“I thought it would be safe because they’re in the tank and in the closet. If they get out of the tank, they’ll still be stuck in the closet.”
“That wasn’t the deal. The deal was that you would keep them in their tanks and not take them out without our permission. I don’t mind if you keep the tanks in your closet, but you cannot take them out of the tanks,” Dad said.
“Fine,” I agreed, shooting Becky a look.
6
Myrtle On the Loose
I had to give the girls credit. They were really putting a ton of work into their costumes. They seemed to spend every free minut
e working at the kitchen table. The costumes didn’t look like anything yet, but I was happy the project was keeping them busy. It felt like I had the house to myself.
I left for school on Friday, excited for the three-day Columbus Day weekend, and sad that I would be grounded for the entire time. I almost asked Mom if my grounding included Monday, but figured I should wait until after school.
At recess, I watched Myrtle. Rain was pouring down outside, and we were stuck inside for the fifth day in a row. She was sleeping in the corner of the tank.
Cameron, who doesn’t usually say much, sat down next to me and said, “That thing never does anything.”
“I know,” I said. “It seems to sleep most of the time.”
“Too bad Mrs. Cliff didn’t get us something cool for the class pet, like a bird.”
“Really? You’d want a pet bird?”
“Yeah, I have like seven of them at home. They’re cool.”
“I never had a bird as a pet, but my mom says they’re dirty and noisy. That’s why she agreed to get me a snake.”
“Snakes are terrible pets,” Cameron said.
“No, they’re not!” I exclaimed. “Snakes are awesome. They’re easy to take care of, they don’t make noise, and they’re cool to hold.”
“And they can kill you.”
“You sound like one of my sisters. I have a boa constrictor and a garter snake. They aren’t poisonous. They eat mice like Miss Myrtle.”
“I dare you to pick Myrtle up,” Cameron said.
I was kind of surprised at the dare because he always seemed like such a well-behaved kid. I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I’d held a zillion mice before, so I said, “What will you give me?”
“I’ll give you five bucks,” he said.
“Nah, it’s not worth the risk. If Mrs. Cliff finds out, I’ll get in major trouble.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said and walked over to his friend Mark. The two of them talked for a few seconds, and then he went over to Karen and May. Karen and May went to several other kids in the class. Finally, Cameron came back and sat in his seat next to me. “I’ll give you five bucks, and everyone else in the class will give you a dollar. That adds up to thirty bucks.”
It was too tempting to resist. “Now we have a deal,” I said.
“You’ve got to take Myrtle out of the cage and hold her for at least a minute,” he added.
“A minute is a long time to have her out without getting caught.” I pointed to our recess monitor, Mrs. Curtis, who was sitting at a table on the far side of the class, near the door. “Thirty seconds,” I said.
“Deal,” Cameron said, putting his hand out for me to shake.
I couldn’t help thinking that Cameron would make a good businessman one day. All he was missing was the suit and an office. “And everyone has to be quiet and not make noises that will get me in trouble.”
Cameron signaled to Mark, and Mark walked over to Mrs. Curtis and started up a conversation with her. He stood so she couldn’t see me or Myrtle’s tank.
“Go ahead,” Cameron said. “The clock starts when you get her out of the tank.”
I quickly pulled the lid off the tank and slowly reached in to grab Myrtle. She looked a lot like the mice I feed to the snakes, but she was prettier, if a mouse can be considered pretty. She was sleeping, which made her easy to pick up. I took her out and held her carefully in my hands.
Karen walked over for a closer look. “Don’t drop her,” she whispered.
“I won’t. I handle these little guys all the time.”
“Ew,” May said. “They’re totally gross. I wouldn’t touch that thing for all the money in the world.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, feeling like the money was as good as mine.
“Fifteen seconds to go,” Cameron said.
I looked over toward Mrs. Curtis to make sure Mark was still keeping her busy, and that’s when a boom of thunder rocked the room like a bomb. I was so startled by it that I shrieked so loud they probably heard me on the space shuttle, and I dropped Myrtle.
“Get her!” Karen insisted.
I dropped to my knees to pick Myrtle up, but she scurried over May’s foot. May screamed so loud that if I had long hair, it would have blown back. Myrtle was there one second and gone the next.
Mrs. Curtis appeared immediately. How she made it across the room in an instant was a complete mystery to me. “What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Justin let Myrtle out of her tank,” May said.
Mrs. Curtis looked in the tank and glared at me. “Mrs. Cliff made it crystal clear that no one was to open that tank for any reason. What does it say on the side of the tank?”
I stood to read what she was pointing at. Taped to the side of the tank was a sign I hadn’t seen before. I read, “No one is to open this tank for any reason!” She had me. “I guess I didn’t see that,” I said, trying to look as cute as possible. It wasn’t working. I could have looked cuter than a baby sea lion and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Mrs. Curtis was furious.
“Find it!” she ordered.
“I will! I’m sorry, Mrs. Curtis.” I was so nervous. I couldn’t believe I’d dropped Myrtle. “Come on,” I said to Cameron. “Help me out.”
“No way! Mice give me the creeps.”
Unbelievable, I thought. “Fine! I’ll find it myself.”
I dropped back to the floor. I knew mice liked small places, so I started looking behind the bookshelves. She’d probably gone in that direction first. As I crawled around on my hands and knees like an animal, the other kids learned what was going on, and the room instantly got very loud. Kids were laughing, screaming, and some were even helping me. It was so incredibly loud. Mrs. Curtis lost complete control of the class. She tried shouting for everyone to be quiet, but the noise didn’t let up. That’s when Mrs. Cliff got back from her lunch. The room fell silent the second she entered. It was like a magic trick the way she made the sound vanish. People instantly scrambled to their desks or started cleaning up their areas.
“Mrs. Curtis, may I speak with you in the hall, please?” she said.
The two women walked into the hall for a few minutes. I stayed on the floor and continued my search, but Myrtle was gone for good. “You still owe me thirty bucks,” I whispered to Cameron.
“No way!” he whispered back. “You had her in your hand for about fifteen seconds. You lost the bet.”
I’m going to get in so much trouble, I thought. Mrs. Cliff returned, looking angrier than ever. I wanted to crack a joke but figured it was too soon, and she’d get even more furious with me.
“Everyone kindly return to your seat,” she said. “Justin, may I speak to you in the hall, please?”
I thought about making a run for it. I’d been in trouble at school before, but this felt like it was going to be a really big deal. I met her in the hallway, and she didn’t say anything, which is sometimes the worst. When an adult just looks at you without talking when they’re mad, it’s a bad sign.
Finally she said, “You were well aware you shouldn’t mess with Myrtle, but you took her out anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” I admitted. “Cameron dared me to take her out.”
“If he dared you to jump off a bridge, would you do that too?”
“No,” I said. My mom loved using that expression too. There’s a big difference between taking a mouse out of a tank and jumping off a bridge, I thought, but didn’t dare say that to Mrs. Cliff.
“I didn’t mean to let her go. I was so startled when I heard the thunder that I dropped her. I tried to find her, but I think she got into or behind something. She’ll come out later, when we quiet down.”
“That won’t do me any good, though, Justin. I need that mouse back in the tank now, and I’m guessing, with all that noise, she’s hiding somewhere really safe and hard to find. I don’t think she’ll come out until after she has the babies.”
“Babies?”
“Yep, Myrtle i
s pregnant. She’ll probably have the babies this weekend.”
7
Grounded
That night, Mom and Dad were super angry with me. Mrs. Cliff and the principal both called home. Mom and Dad had to pay to have a pest-removal expert visit the classroom and try to remove Myrtle safely. He couldn’t find Myrtle, and the school and Mrs. Cliff didn’t want to do anything to harm her or the babies, so they left her alone, wherever she was. Mrs. Cliff told Mom and Dad I’d learn my punishment on Tuesday, after Columbus Day weekend. She wanted some time to think it over.
“What were you thinking?” Dad asked at dinner.
“It was only supposed to be for thirty seconds,” I said.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned, did it?” Mom asked, clearly about to go off on me. “That mouse is a living thing, and it doesn’t even belong to you. What made you think it would be okay to take it out of the tank in a class of twenty-five kids?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just got carried away.”
“You always get carried away,” Becky added.
“Mind your business,” I said.
“I think you had better stop talking before you’re grounded straight through Halloween,” Mom said.
“You wouldn’t ground me on Halloween!”
“It might teach you the lesson you need to learn,” Mindy said.
“Mind your business, Mindy,” Mom warned.
“I just said the exact same thing to her and got in trouble! How come—”
“You are her brother. I’m her mother, and I’m warning you that you are way out on very thin ice. Step carefully, young man.”
When Mom calls me “young man,” it’s never a good thing.
The girls were both enjoying the Myrtle situation. They sat at the table taking slow, little bites of their food, watching me get in trouble as if it were a play being put on for their enjoyment and they had front-row seats.
“Mrs. Cliff was really livid, and so was your principal,” Dad said. “I want you to write an apology to each of them to go back to school on Monday.”
