Giggle Book Three

by BobA. Troutt

  *****

  Giggle Book Three

  An Apple for the Teacher

  It was a beautiful, clear and sunny autumn day. The leaves had slowly changed their colors as summer passed. The wind had picked up, putting a cool bite in the air. The rustling of the leaves played like the strings of a harp as they danced about on the ground and sailed through the air.

  In the far off distance, you could hear the faint sound of the school bell ringing. Dong, dong, dong sounded the old bell throughout the quaint community of Providence. Dong, dong, dong, it sounded again to let the children know it was time for school.

  Providence was a small community, really just a spot by the road. There was a small grocery store, a church, a school and a few houses scattered about the community. There was one road in and two roads out. It you went that way, you would be over there. If you went this way, you would be over here. If you went over there, you would be over yonder.

  Dong, dong, dong, the bell sounded for the final time as the children rushed to school. Most of them rode the school bus with Estell. Fred and Evelyn rode their bikes and so did Carl, Carliene and little Jamie. Haskell, Scott and Tutty rode horses. Everyone else walked.

  The school was a one-room classroom. It had a big potbelly stove that sat just off from the center of the room. The grades ranged from one through eight. Grades one through four was on one side and five through eight were on the other side. Mr. Oscar Perry was the principal and the teacher. He taught the younger children before lunch and the older ones after lunch. Mrs. Andrews was the cook. Wow, it was some of the best and finest eating; she could cook! She made some of the tastiest vegetable soup around. The smell of the soup coming from the little side kitchen filtered through the classroom with such aroma that it made it hard to wait for lunch.

  Mr. Perry walked up to the front of the classroom as he paddled the palm of his hand with a ruler.

  “Children,” he spoke, “it’s time to get started. We have a lot to do today.”

  He grabbed his roll book and began taking roll. One by one, he called their names. Each one answered here; no one was absent. After taking roll, Mr. Perry closed the roll book and laid it on his desk.

  “Mr. Perry,” said a voice from beside him.

  “Yes,” he replied as he looked down. “Why, yes, Bet.”

  “I brought you an apple,” she said. “I hope you enjoy it.”

  “Why, thank you, Bet,” he replied. “You are so thoughtful.”

  She made her way back to her seat and Mr. Perry placed the apple on his desk. I’ll have that at recess, he thought to himself as his mouth watered.

  Little did anyone know that inside the apple was a tiny little worm. He giggled as he peeped out at the classroom through two tiny wormholes in the apple. His name was Worm; Worm the worm. He went unnoticed throughout the day as Mr. Perry taught class. Worm was living the dream of his life. He was slowly eating the apple from inside out, leaving only the outer peeling.

  “Yummy, yummy, yummy,” moaned Worm as he wiped his mouth and rubbed his belly. “That apple was delicious. Urgh,” he belched. “Excuse me,” he whispered as he looked about.

  About that time a ribbitt came from the back of the classroom. Quickly, Mr. Perry turned around from the blackboard and scanned the room with his eagle eye. Then it happened again, ribbitt. The classroom became quiet.

  “Hey, froggie,” he said as he pointed to Kelly. “How about coming up front, taking a chair and facing the corner.”

  Slowly, Kelly rose to his feet and shuffled up to the front of the class. The class giggled and Rosemary blushed. The day went on; recess and lunch soon passed. Kelly’s seat remained in the corner until the school bell rang for time to go home. As the bell rang, the children hurriedly left and Mr. Perry washed the blackboard for the next day. Afterwards, he gathered his things to go home.

  “Oh, yes, I almost forgot my apple,” he said.

  When he grabbed the apple, it collapsed in his hand. What, what! he grumbled to himself. Carefully, he examined the peeling.

  “Huh!” he said. “One of the children played a trick on me.”

  He pitched the apple into the trashcan. However, he didn’t see Worm. Worm did his best to stay hid. He rolled over and over in the trashcan laughing to himself.

  “This guy cracks me up,” he giggled. “He’s a real card.”

  As night fell, Worm made his way out of the trashcan and back on top of Mr. Perry’s desk. He stayed there until the next morning.

  Dong, dong, dong sounded the school bell. Dong, dong, dong, it went again. The children all gathered in and took their seats as they continued talking and throwing paper wads.

  “Now, class!” shouted Mr. Perry. “It’s time to come to order.”

  Mr. Perry hadn’t noticed the apple on his desk that Jess Willard brought him. He started calling the roll. He noticed the apple when he called Bet’s name.

  “Did you bring me another apple, Miss Bet?”

  “No, sir,” she replied.

  Willard raised his hand and said, “I brought it.”

  “Thank you, Jess,” said Mr. Perry.

  Mr. Perry finished the roll and started class. Unseen by anyone, Worm had already crept over and crawled under it. He chewed his way up the center of the core and started to eat. Slowly, he chewed bite after bite. He squirted apple juice from between his teeth. He was very careful not to smack his mouth; he was afraid someone would hear him. No one paid any attention to the apple. Worm had managed to hollow out another one.

  Mr. Perry was at his desk grading some papers when Haskell Dean started shooting spitballs across the room. When he shot another one, Mr. Perry was getting up to ring the bell for dismissal and he caught him.

  “Okay, Haskell Dean, you can stay after school and clean the blackboard.”

  “Oh, no,” cried Haskell. “I’ll be late for ball practice.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. You should have thought about that before you started shooting spitballs.”

  Dong, dong, dong sounded the bell.

  “Whoopee,” cried the children.

  As the classroom emptied, Mr. Perry gathered his books and papers and headed toward the door. He suddenly stopped, turned around and reached for the apple on his desk.

  “Huh!” he said as the apple collapsed in his hand. “It must be a bad year for apples,” he said as he pitched it into the trashcan. “Do that board well, Haskell Dean,” instructed Mr. Perry.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Haskell.

  Mr. Perry hurriedly walked out the door.

  Day after day, the old school bell rang and the children gathered in the old country schoolhouse. Guthrie brought the next apple and then Fannie Sue brought the next one. Lloyd, unfortunately, had left his apple at home. Mr. Perry placed apple after apple on his desk. As fast as he did, Worm hollowed them out. Each time, he laughed and giggled because he was able to get away with it.

  “I can’t believe this guy,” Worm said to himself as he holed around inside the empty apple peeling. “This guy needs to get a life,” laughed Worm.

  “Okay, class,” shouted Mr. Perry. “It’s time to…”

  “Mr. Perry, can I get up and sharpen my pencil?” interrupted Earl B.

  “Yes, you can,” replied Mr. Perry. “Hurry, I want everyone to get your workbooks out and start on chapter four.”

  “Oops!” cried out Earl B. “Mr. Perry, my lead broke. Can I sharpen my pencil again?”

  “Yes, you may, Earl B.,” replied Mr. Perry. “But, make this your last time.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Earl B.

  When Earl B. got up to the pencil sharpener he pulled out a handful of pencils. He slowly sharpened his pencils one by one. Mr. Perry hurried over to him and stood right beside him. He never said a word; his face said it all. He raised his arm and pointed his finger for Earl B. to take his seat.

  “Now!” he yelled.

 
Meanwhile, Worm was having a ball with Fannie Sue’s apple. He missed the apple Lloyd left home the other day. Worm had to hide in Mr. Perry’s pencil box that day. Dong, dong, dong sounded the bell. The next day was Friday and no one had to remind the children. They nearly tore the door down to get outside and play.

  Night soon passed over the little community of Providence. The brightness of the morning sun reached over the top of the old school and once again the old bell tolled. The children hurried to get to school on time; Mr. Perry waited for them at the door.

  “Good morning, Mr. Perry,” said William Harold as he ran through the door, gasping for air.

  “Why, good morning, William,” replied Mr. Perry. “Did you run all the way here?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied. “Look what I brought you, Mr. Perry, an apple. I got it out of Earl B.’s apple orchard behind the school.”

  “You did!” replied Mr. Perry.

  “Yes, sir, I did. I climbed up in the tree and picked it myself. It’s nice and green.”

  “So, I see,” replied Mr. Perry. “Just put it on my desk. I’m sure it will be as good as all the others,” Mr. Perry said with a frown. “Hurry up, son.”

  The children all gathered in the classroom and took their seats. Clack, clack, clack came a sound from the front of the classroom. Clack, clack, clack it went again as Mr. Perry slapped his ruler on top of his desk.

  “Okay, children, let’s settle down,” he said. “I know it is Friday,” he said as he paused and looked across the room. “Miss Marie, is that chewing gum you have in your mouth?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Marie.

  “I want you to write 150 sentences of I will not chew gum in class.”

  “Yes, sir,” she moaned.

  “I want them in by Monday,” he stated.

  Mr. Perry slightly turned and picked up some test papers from his desk and started handing them out.

  “Oh, no,” whined the children.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, “a pop quiz.”

  After handing out the test, Mr. Perry went back to his desk to finish the work he had leftover from the night before. Silence filled the room as the children took the test. All that could be heard were a few sniffs, a cough or two and shoes shuffling under some of the desks.

  All of a sudden, the strangest thing happened. The green apple started shaking and quivering. It was Worm. He had eaten his way up through the center of the core, nearly hollowing the inside out. The apple was so green, it gave Worm a bellyache. His little tummy hurt so bad that his head was swimming. He was in awful shape, sick as he could be.

  “One of the children pointed at the apple and cried, “Look, it’s moving.”

  Mr. Perry leaned back in his chair, slipped on his glasses and leaned in for a closer look. Suddenly, the apple began to roll. Everyone held their breath. The apple rolled in slow motion from one end of Mr. Perry’s desk to the other. Each time it got to the edge, it would stop for a minute and then roll back the other way.

  “Why, what do you make of that?” mumbled Mr. Perry.

  Everyone excitedly watched it roll to the edge of the desk and stop.

  “It’s going to fall,” they yelled.

  But, it didn’t. It only rolled back to the other side. Suddenly, hiccup, hiccup, hiccup sounded from the apple. Hiccup, hiccup it continued. The apple rolled once again to the edge of the desk and stopped. Everyone held their breath. Then without warning, the apple fell to the floor and started rolling. The children and Mr. Perry jumped up and chased after the apple as it rolled about the room

  “I’ve got it,” cried one.

  “No, it’s over here,” cried another.

  “Here it is,” shouted one. “I’ve got it.”

  Nervously, the child handed the apple to Mr. Perry. Carefully, he held it up toward the light. I see, he said to himself. Now, I see.

  “See what? See what?” asked the children.

  Mr. Perry made his way to his desk and set the apple on it once again. Worm slowly stuck his head out of the apple. He was so sick and miserable. His head was swimming; his belly hurt and his eyes were crossed. Very gingerly, in front of them all, he straightened out on top of the desk. As he looked about the room, he got even sicker. Hiccup he went as he rubbed his belly and dropped his head.

  “The green apple was too much,” he mumbled.

  The class laughed hysterically and so did Mr. Perry. Everyone was laughing. Well, everyone except Worm. He was just too sick to laugh. He didn’t think it was so funny. Slowly, Worm crawled inch by inch to the edge of the desk.

  “Help me, please,” he begged.

  “He’s going to fall,” cried out one boy.

  Quickly, William Harold rushed to him and picked him up. Carefully, he took him outside; Mr. Perry and the other children followed close behind. William Harold placed him down onto a leaf. As the wind blew the leaf up and down, Worm became sicker. Without warning, it happened. Everything Worm had eaten came up.

  “Yuck!” cried William.

  They all gathered around and started laughing, even Worm because he was feeling so much better.

  *****

  Giggle Book One

  Giggle Book Two

  Bobby A. Troutt is a southern writer who writes a variety of short stories and children’s books.