Dewey Fairchild, Teacher Problem Solver

by Lorri Horn

  “Can you please DM Bailey that we will see her in the next couple of days, and send her some paperwork to get back to us first,” Dewey requested. “I gotta run over to Colin’s now. We’ve got a big problem at school with the vending machines. I think they want to get rid of them. Can you imagine? I’ll die, Clara. I swear I’ll DIE. There’s just no reason to be at that school without the vending machines.”

  “Oh, that’s unfortunate. Most injurious, sir. I’m sure you three will hit upon a good solution.”

  “I sure hope so.” Dewey hopped onto the Gator. “Launch me a cookie, would ya?” Dewey added, “please and thank you!” He flashed a smile at Clara as the Gator began to slowly lift him up. Clara tossed him one and then a second cookie.

  When he left, Clara sat down at Dewey’s desk and chewed slowly on one of her own cookies. Wolfie hopped up and snuggled in next to her, and she patted him on the head, but her mind was a million miles away.

  Corn Chips Grow from Corn Seeds

  When Dewey arrived, Seraphina and Colin had eaten two slices of pizza each, and Colin was just digging into his third.

  “Oh good! You made it!” he said, folding the slice of pizza lengthwise and taking a bite that amounted to about half of it. “Serraphhiaa wooln’t ell (chew, chew) anyhing (gulp) until you got here.”

  Dewey grabbed a slice of pizza, then he thought of Colin’s appetite, went back, and placed a second one on his plate before sitting down on the couch.

  “The situation is not good,” began Seraphina. “But at least I think I know what’s going on now. I don’t think it’s so unrelated to the t-issue, after all.”

  “What?” Dewey asked. “What did you find out?”

  “It’s true. They want to get rid of the vending machines. They—”

  Before she could finish, Dewey interrupted her and threw himself down onto the floor, rolling around like a toddler having a tantrum. “No! No! No! No!” he cried, thrashing his head back and forth with each denial.

  Colin laughed heartily at Dewey’s display of wretchedness. Then he swiped a slice of Dewey’s pizza.

  “Colin!” Seraphina tried to defend Dewey’s imperiled dinner provisions.

  Her intervention was unnecessary, however, as Dewey swiped it just as quickly back out of Colin’s hand.

  “Nice try, Cowboy!” he drawled, not even bothering to put the slice back on his plate. Instead, he sent it directly into his mouth.

  Colin laughed.

  “Seraphina,” Dewey began, looking back at her. “This is serious.”

  “Well, I know that,” she declared rather exasperatedly. “You two Sasquatch need to focus!”

  “Seraphina, I’m totally focused. Colin. Focus,” he guided, putting one hand on each of Colin’s shoulders. Colin nodded to indicate he had settled down.

  “It’s all part of some bigger plan for ‘Ecological Awareness’ that the school is working on. There is some committee that comes in and reviews schools, and the reviewers reported weaknesses in our district.”

  “So that’s why we’re skimping on toilet paper?” asked Colin.

  “Yes, it seems so. They’ll be replacing the paper towels with air driers soon too,” added Seraphina.

  “Ugh. I hate drying my hands with those driers, but I can live with that. Is it really asking so much for my paper to roll out at least three pieces at a time, though?” he demanded. He spoke with his hands palms up and fingers spread, as if each hand held a roll of triple-ply as he shrugged.

  “What about the vending machines? How do they fit in?” Dewey ignored Colin’s theatrics.

  “According to Shawn, they want us to grow our own snacks.”

  “They want us to—what?!” Colin’s hands flew up again, this time up over his head.

  “You heard me. Students plant our own garden. We plant the seeds, we water them, plants grow, and we eventually eat them. They want one this winter and one again in the spring”

  “We could grow old and starve to death waiting for all that!” howled Dewey.

  “Are we supposed to grow our own corn chips?”

  “No,” Seraphina shook her head. “Just grow the corn.”

  Dewey got up and started pacing. “This is worse than I thought.”

  “When?” asked Colin.

  “I’m not sure,” Seraphina sighed. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  V-Ending Machine

  If by “soon enough” Seraphina meant tomorrow, she would have been correct. The next day when Dewey got to school, he felt as if someone had swiftly kicked him in the stomach. They were gone. Before he even had time to think about how to stop it, the vending machines, the things he enjoyed most about middle school, ceased to be.

  There, in their place, sat an information table with parent volunteers. They had “healthy snack” information packets for kids to take home to their parents and face painting.

  “Face painting!” cried Dewey to Seraphina. “What in the fruit loops does face painting have to do with any of this?”

  “Hey! Dewey!” Dewey and Seraphina looked over and discovered Colin getting his face painted. He was explaining to the volunteer painter that a narwhal was a large-tusked whale. She told him she wasn’t so good at whales and suggested he might like a large tusk-like carrot painted on his cheek instead.

  “You look ridiculous,” laughed Dewey when Colin was finished, and they walked away from the table. Colin had an almost life-sized carrot painted on the side of his face.

  “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “I wanted a narwhal!”

  “Who told you to go get your face painted, you noob?” Dewey could always count on Colin to cheer him up, even in a crisis.

  “Hee hee!” Seraphina poked her finger in Colin’s orange dimple. “I think Colin’s cheek makes a very nice root vegetable. I hope that doesn’t wash off too easily. It’s a good look.”

  “Okay, okay!” said Colin.

  “We need a plan.” Dewey looked at the clock on the wall and groaned. The bell to go back to class would ring any minute.

  “I have an orthodontist appointment after school today,” reported Seraphina.

  “You’re getting braces?” asked Colin.

  “Not sure yet. They have to decide, I guess.”

  “Welcome to the orthodontic club,” and Colin flipped his retainer in his mouth like a somersault.

  “That’s just gross,” cried Seraphina. “And why is it blue?”

  “You can get any color you want,” Colin dangled it between his thumb and pointer finger.

  “Well, park it on the roof of your mouth, will you?”

  “I can’t meet either,” interrupted Dewey, oblivious to their banter. He really needed to meet with Bailey. “How about we just text later tonight?”

  The bell rang.

  They all agreed and went off to class. Dewey still laughing at Colin’s carrot face but also with an empty feeling in his stomach—not just because he hadn’t eaten a snack today.

  Perfect, Thin,

  and Crispy

  According to Bailey’s questionnaire, her teacher problem stemmed from his obsession with sharks. School had been in session for only a couple of months, and that’s all they talked about every day.

  When she slid into the office Sunday, Dewey had not yet arrived. Wolfie greeted her with whining and talking.

  Clara had him on a leash because lately he had been acting like he ran the roost, and she was having none of that.

  “Wolfie, no,” Clara admonished as Wolfie gave a high-pitched yelp, begging Bailey to rub his haunches.

  “Aww, he’s so adorable,” smiled Bailey, petting him.

  Bailey Campos had been in a different elementary school from Dewey, so he did not know her that well. She had brown shoulder-length hair, warm chocolate eyes, and cinnamon skin. She had a reputation for h
er spirited sense of humor, and she and her friends were a lively and giggle-some bunch.

  “Yes, yes, I know,” smiled Clara. “I just would prefer it if he didn’t jump up and demand affection. It’s unbecoming,” she stressed as she looked Wolfie straight in the eye. He, in response, rubbed up against Bailey’s leg, eliciting another rub from her.

  “Dewey should be here any moment now,” Clara filled in the momentary silence. “Please, have a seat. I have some cookies just coming out of the oven. I hope you like french fries,” she called out over her shoulder as she attended to her baked goods.

  French fries? wondered Bailey. That’s weird. She sat and played with Wolfie while she waited. She couldn’t believe how soft and silky Wolfie’s black and white fur felt, more like a cat’s than a dog’s. Bailey had just stood up to look for a ball or something to throw for Wolfie when Dewey slid into the office.

  “Hey, Bailey! Sorry I’m late.”

  “No problem. I’ve been hanging out with Wolfie.” She smiled and rubbed Wolfie’s back. “Isn’t that right, Wolfie?” she cooed.

  Dewey sat at his desk and opened his notes from Bailey’s case. He had reviewed them last night, but he and Clara had not had a chance to go over them yet.

  “So,” Dewey wanted to confirm with her, “I’ve read it all, but let me hear the main issues from you.”

  “Well, for one,” replied Bailey, “we’re getting sharked-out! It’s boring to only study one thing all year long! But I guess the bigger thing is, well, um, he shows us these movies on sharks, and they’re freaking us out. I refuse to swim in the ocean anymore.” Bailey looked around cautiously as if the walls had ears and lowered her voice, “I don’t even want to take a bath!”

  When Clara walked in, Dewey’s nose registered the sweet smell of cookies. When he looked up, she handed them salted fries in a wax paper packet. Suddenly, his senses felt mixed up.

  “Um, Clara? French fry cookies?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Ah! Guests first!” laughed Dewey, nodding for Bailey to try a fry first.

  Bailey took one and smiled big.

  Clara had made sugar cookie strips, with grains of sugar to look like salt flakes, packaged in a white paper french fry bag. Each bag came with vanilla and chocolate dipping sauces dyed red with pomegranate juice to look like ketchup.

  “Nice, Clara! Very nice!” approved Dewey.

  Clara nodded and headed off to get the next batch, this time crinkle fries, into the oven.

  Dewey pretty much expected everything Bailey had shared, but he hadn’t considered that Mr. Snow’s class scared kids to that extent they would be afraid to get into their own bathtubs, especially a funny, gritty kid like Bailey.

  “Shark anatomy, shark reproduction, shark habitat, shark classification, shark evolution, shark features, shark eating habits, shark communication, shark senses, shark social structure. Did you know there are about 440 known species of sharks, and we have to know them all?” Bailey complained as she flipped through her science binder, showing Dewey each of the required dividers. “Endangered sharks, shark diet, shark behavior.”

  “So . . . you don’t want to take a bath because you’re scared of sharks?” he clarified.

  “Yeah. I know it’s dumb. But I’m not the only one. A couple other kids said the same thing about showering, which makes even less sense. I guess we’re just kind of nervous. No one’s going to the beach, I can tell you that much.”

  “Fascinating,” replied Dewey. “I wond—” but before he could finish his thought, Bailey interrupted him.

  “Dewey,” she continued. “It’s worse. I know one kid who won’t drink from the water fountain now.”

  “Whh-oh-oh,” responded Dewey, combining “what” and “whoa” into a three-syllable word. He fed a cookie fry into his mouth and then another. “I’m going to need a day or so to work on this.

  “In the meantime, ever done a fake bath? Just run the tub, splash a little water from the sink so your hair looks damp, and your mom will think you’re in the tub. That should hold you over for a day or two.”

  Bailey left with a to-go bag of fries and Dewey’s assurance that he would be in touch soon.

  “Oh!” Dewey called as Bailey crawled out through the ducts. “Don’t forget to lock the door when you take your fake bath!” Dewey had learned that from experience.

  Dewey sat at his desk thinking about Bailey’s case and wondering how to solve something as big as a tiger shark. As he sat there, Wolfie at his feet, he nibbled at a cookie fry and got distracted by the smell of the next batch ready in the oven. What had Clara called it, that word that sounded like a mallard duck?

  Clara came back in with the crinkled fries.

  “What’s that thing, Clara, when the cookie gets that smell in the oven that smells so good—that sounds like the mallard duck effect?”

  Clara chuckled. “Maillard Effect. Not mallard duck!” she smiled warmly.

  “Right,” he nodded. “Okay, help me figure this Mr. Snow thing out, would ya?” He motioned for her to sit down.

  “Bailey’s teacher? How challenging is it?”

  “This guy is obsessed, all right. Totally shark obsessed. He loves sharks more than a five-year-old loves trash trucks. Look at this,” he said, flipping through the binder Bailey had left for him. “Worksheets on sharks. Word searches on sharks. Shark lectures. Shark projects. Shark tests.”

  Clara looked through the material, amazed at what she found.

  “Look, here, Boss. He has customized his entire lesson plan—it covers the state standard curriculum with only shark-based study! Now that’s commitment.”

  They read the shark-centric syllabus together:

  This semester, students will focus on Structure and Function in Living Systems.

  The anatomy and physiology of sharks illustrates the complementary nature of structure and function. By the end of the semester, successful understanding will require:

  Students know sharks have levels of organization for structure and function, including cells, tissues, organs, organ systems, and the whole organism.Students know organ systems function because of the contributions of individual organs, tissues, and cells, and how failure of any part can affect the entire system.

  Students know how shark bones and muscles work together, forming the musculoskeletal system, to provide a structural framework for movement.

  Students know how the organs of the reproductive system of the shark female and male generate eggs and sperm and know how sexual activity may lead to fertilization and pregnancy.Students know the structure and function of the umbilicus and placenta during shark pregnancy.

  Students know how to relate the structures of the shark nervous system, including the eyes and ears, to their functions.

  “Man, this guy really is obsessed. Well, here’s something to sink your teeth into, if we don’t want kids afraid to swim, or worse yet, to grow up thinking that babies come from sharks, we’d better figure out how to solve this problem.”

  Dewey grabbed a crinkle fry and sat quietly thinking. This time, instead of just slipping the whole cookie into his mouth, he nibbled on each ridge of the cookie-fry. He found it satisfying to have his front and bottom teeth drive over the flat part of the cookie until the front teeth hit the ridge, where he slowly bit down, savoring how it tasted buttery and perfect each time. He began to think about that weird way taste buds register it so ridiculously good when butter and sugar come together. Clara was pretty clever, turning all that sweet deliciousness into faux french fries.

  Then came the breakthrough idea that had nothing to do with Bailey or sharks.

  “Clara,” he muttered slowly. “If you can make cookies that look like french fries, you can make cookies that look like carrots too, right?”

  “Well, sure, Boss. You can make something look like anything, really.”r />
  “Something look like anything. Something look like anything! That’s IT! Clara, we’re going to save the school!” He grabbed and hugged her hard. Clara, who hadn’t gotten hugs from Dewey for a while now, felt grateful to feel his warmth and enthusiasm.

  “Well, that’s great, sir. Anything to help, you know that.”

  “I gotta go. I need to tell Seraphina and Colin! See if you can figure out how we’re going to help Bailey. I have no idea how to navigate shark-infested waters in a bathroom!”

  “Yes. On it. Thinking cap going on,” and she mimed putting a winter cap on her head. “Until tomorrow.”

  And off Dewey went to share his idea with his friends and see if they thought it might, just might, work.