by Dan Gutman
On Thursday Mrs. Dole had us march from the gym to the playground behind the school so we would learn how to make a grand entrance for our parents. She made us practice over and over again until we got it right.
Did you ever hear of the graduation song? It’s this song they always play at graduations. Mrs. Dole asked our music teacher, Mr. Loring, to play that song on an accordion while we marched around the playground. He told us the real name of the song is “Pomp and Circumstance,” but nobody knows why.
The song doesn’t have words. It goes like this:
Dum, dum-dum-dum, dum dum,
Dum, dum-dum-dum, dum.
Dum, dum-dum, dum-dum-dum,
Dum, dum-dum-dum-dum.
It’s a dumb song, if you ask me. Songs are supposed to have words. So I made up words to the graduation song. They go like this:
I’m gra-ad-u-a-ting,
There’s a square on my head.
Why is there a square on my head?
Be-cause I’m grad-u-a-ting.
You repeat that over and over again. While we were marching around the playground, I taught the words to everybody. Soon the whole class was singing. It was cool. Then Mrs. Dole told us to knock it off.
Practicing for graduation all morning was boring. I couldn’t wait for lunch. Finally, after a million hundred hours, Mrs. Dole said it was time to go to the vomitorium to eat.
I sat at a table with the guys. Michael tried to juggle his Tater Tots. Neil the nude kid put cookies over his eyes. Ryan let us pour salt on his tongue. Andrea and her annoying friends sat at the next table talking about girly stuff, like what color dresses their dolls like to wear.
“What are you guys doing over the summer?” asked Ryan.
“I’m going to sleepaway camp,” said Neil.
“I’m going to football camp,” said Michael.
“I’m going to cooking camp,” said Ryan.
“My family is going to rent a house at the beach,” I said.
I didn’t ask Andrea what she would be doing over the summer. She was probably going to learn her multiplication tables so she would be smarter than everybody in third grade.
Andrea was sitting there all quiet. I figured she was still mad because her mom lost the PTA election.
“Are you still mad because your mom lost the PTA election?” I asked her.
“No,” Andrea said. “I’m worried about Mrs. Daisy.”
“What about her?” asked Emily, all concerned.
“Haven’t you noticed?” Andrea said. “Mrs. Daisy has put on a lot of weight. She’s getting fat.”
“It must be all those bonbons we gave her,” said Neil the nude kid.
“She’s probably eating a box every night,” Ryan said.
“That’s not good for her,” said Emily.
“It’s all your fault, Arlo,” Andrea said. “You were the one who thought of giving her bonbons.”
Why is everything always my fault? I didn’t force Mrs. Daisy to eat so many bonbons. What is Andrea’s problem? I wish a truck full of bonbons would fall on her head.
6
The Greatest Day of My Life
Finally it was my favorite day of the year—the last day of school. Yay!
After we finished pledging the allegiance, Mrs. Daisy had us sing “Happy Birthday.” But it wasn’t anybody’s birthday. We sang “Happy Birthday” to the kids in our class who have birthdays over the summer. Like me. It is totally not fair that my birthday is in the summer. That means my mom can’t bring in cupcakes for the class. Bummer in the summer!
We didn’t learn anything all day. Mrs. Daisy had us clean the junk out of our desks. I found a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the back that had been there for months. There was green stuff on it. I offered Ryan a quarter if he would take a bite of the sandwich, but he wouldn’t.
Then we had to take our posters and artwork off the walls so we could bring them home. (The artwork, that is. We couldn’t bring the walls home. That would be weird.)
Mrs. Dole came in and passed out yearbooks that had pictures of everybody in the whole school. We spent most of the morning signing each other’s yearbooks. I wrote a little note in each one. Like “See you in third grade!” or “Summer rules!”
Andrea asked me if she could sign my yearbook. I didn’t want her to, but Mrs. Dole was watching. So I let Andrea sign it. She wrote, “I’ll miss you, Arlo,” above her picture.
“Oooooh!” Ryan said. “A.J. let Andrea sign his yearbook. They must be in love!”
“When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.
If those guys weren’t my best friends, I would hate them.
“Will you sign my yearbook, Arlo?” Andrea asked all sweetly, because she knew Mrs. Dole was watching.
This is what I wrote in Andrea’s yearbook:
“I won’t miss you…if I throw a rock at you!”
“That’s mean!” Andrea said.
“So is your face,” I told her.
Even though I hate school, I had to admit the last day was kind of sad. Mrs. Daisy told us that over the summer she and Mr. Macky were going to move to a bigger house in a different town. She wasn’t even sure if she would come back to Ella Mentry School in September. Mrs. Daisy got all sniffly and had to blow her nose in a tissue. That made the girls get all sniffly too. Girls get sniffly real easy. Nobody knows why.
I kept looking at the clock, waiting for it to be three o’ clock. But it was only one o’clock. Then it was one minute after one o’clock. Then it was two minutes after one o’clock. Then it was three minutes after one o’clock. The clock moves really slowly when you watch it. For a while, it looked like the hands were moving backwards.
Me and the guys threw crumpled-up paper at the girls, but Mrs. Daisy told us to knock it off.
After a million hundred hours, it was two o’clock. Isn’t the word “o’clock” weird? What’s up with that?
Me and the guys counted down the hours. The minutes. The seconds. Every second took a minute. Every minute took an hour. Every hour took a week. It was the longest day in the history of the world. I thought it would never end.
But finally the little hand was on the three and the big hand was on the twelve. You know what that means. Three o’clock!
The bell rang. We all went to hug Mrs. Daisy and then we bolted for the door.
We were free! Me and the guys ran out the front door like prisoners escaping from jail. Everybody was yelling and shouting and jumping.
No more pencils, no more books!
No more teachers’ dirty looks!
It was the greatest day of my life.
Except for one thing.
But I’m not gonna tell you what it was.
Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to read the next chapter first. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you.
7
Why Is There a Square on My Head?
There was only one bad thing about the last day of school. We had to come back after dinner for graduation! Bummer in the summer!*
My mom made me wear a tie. What’s up with that? Why do boys have to wear this thing around their necks? Whoever thought up that idea should get the No Brain Award. That’s an award they give out to people who don’t have brains.
My dad helped me tie my tie while my mom combed my hair.
“You look so handsome!” my mom gushed, and she got all sniffly the way girls do.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight, A.J.,” my dad warned. “Nothing must go wrong.”
I didn’t even do anything wrong yet and already I was getting blamed! What could possibly go wrong, anyway? It was just a graduation.
We drove to school. Dad parked the car and we walked to the playground. Mrs. Dole and Andrea’s mom were standing at the gate, greeting everyone.
As soon as we got inside the playground, I knew this was not going to be a normal graduation. There was a big stage set up with lights and a long banner that said CONGRATULATIONS, GRADUATES! Balloons
were all over the place. And behind the stage was something really weird—a petting zoo, with goats and chickens and cows and bales of hay.
“Is all this really necessary?” my mom asked Mrs. Dole. “With all due respect, what does a petting zoo have to do with graduating?”
“It represents the diversity of life on our fragile planet,” Mrs. Dole replied. “As they grow up, children need to respect our animal friends.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about, but it was cool to see goats and chickens and cows in the playground. Andrea’s mom rolled her eyes.
The teachers were sitting in the front row. I waved hello to Ms. Hannah, Mr. Docker, Mrs. Roopy, Miss Small, Ms. Coco, and all the others. Some of them were already sniffly and blowing their noses in tissues.
Mrs. Dole told the parents to sit down and the kids to go to the gym. When I got there, the guys had on ties, just like me. The girls had on party dresses. We had to put on the paper caps we made, and gowns too. I didn’t want to wear a dumb gown. Gowns are for girls. But everybody else was putting one on, so I guess it was okay.
“Where did your mom get all those farm animals?” I asked Ryan.
“You can rent anything,” Ryan said. “I guess she went to Rent-a-Farm-Animal.”
After a million hundred hours, Mr. Loring started playing the graduation song on the accordion. Mrs. Dole told us it was time to march out to the playground.
I’m gra-ad-u-a-ting,
There’s a square on my head….
It was windy outside. I had to hold on to my cap so it wouldn’t blow away. As we marched into the playground, our parents started clapping and taking pictures like we were movie stars. I sat between Michael and Ryan.
“I hope my mom doesn’t go overboard,” Ryan whispered.
I didn’t think that would happen, because there weren’t any boats around. Mrs. Dole walked onto the stage. There was a big bowl in front of her. It was about the size of a garbage can cover, and it was on a little stand.
“Welcome parents, teachers, and students!” Mrs. Dole announced. “Let’s begin the ceremony by lighting the eternal flame.”
She took a lighter out of her pocket and lit something in the bowl in front of her. Flames shot up in the air.
“This flame represents the eternal quest for knowledge that will forever burn within you,” Mrs. Dole told us.
I didn’t know what she was talking about, but fire is cool.
Maybe we would get to toast marshmallows later.
After she lit the eternal flame, Mrs. Dole gave a speech. I don’t remember much of it, but I think she told us to look both ways before putting on sunscreen and to always wear a bike helmet if we went running with scissors.
“Third grade can be scary,” Mrs. Dole said. “But remember how frightened you were on your first day of kindergarten? My little baby Ryan was so scared to go to school that he peed in his pants. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“You peed in your pants yesterday?” I asked Ryan.
He was hiding under his chair. Man, that’s what I would do if my mom just told hundreds of strangers that I peed in my pants yesterday.
After Mrs. Dole’s speech, I thought we would get our diplomas. But no! A marching band came out of the gym and played that song about going to the YMCA. Then a big cake was wheeled out in front of the stage. All right! I love cake!
But we didn’t get to eat it yet. We had to sit and listen to more talking. Mrs. Dole grabbed the microphone again.
“Being PTA president is a big responsibility,” she said. “Being president of anything is a big responsibility. That’s why I’m very excited to introduce our special guest speaker. He’s also a president. Please welcome the former president of the United States…Mr. Bill Clinton!”
8
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Wow! A president of the United States was going to talk to us! Double wow!
Everybody clapped. A guy with white hair came out of the gym and went over to the microphone.
I whispered to Ryan, “How did your mom get President Clinton to come to our graduation?”
“I guess she went to Rent-a-President,” he said.
Everybody finished clapping, and President Clinton started to speak. I didn’t catch every word he said, but it went something like this:
“Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah this is so boring blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah is he almost done blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah he can’t go on much longer blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I think he’s almost finished blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I think I’m gonna die blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…”
Man, that guy sure can talk! President Clinton went on for about a million hundred hours. Everybody clapped really loud at the end because we were so glad he was finished.*
I figured we were going to get our diplomas and eat cake next, but we didn’t. Mrs. Dole got back up onstage and stood next to President Clinton.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, “I would like to introduce another surprise guest. Please direct your attention over your heads….”
We all looked up. I didn’t see anything at first. But then I saw it. There was a helicopter hovering up there! It was coming down right over us!
I held on to my cap so it wouldn’t blow away. The helicopter landed at the other end of the playground. It was cool!
Nothing happened for a few minutes.
Then this weird purple smoke started pouring out from under the stage. The sounds of drums pounded out of the speakers. Laser beams shot all over the place.
Suddenly two guys jumped out of the helicopter, ran up onstage, and started dancing around. They were wearing football jerseys and baseball caps.
Then another guy hopped out of the helicopter and ran up onstage. He had on a baseball cap too, and he was wearing this big purple cape with sequins all over it.
It was Mr. Hynde, our old music teacher!
9
Mrs. Dole Goes Overboard
Mr. Hynde is the coolest guy in the history of the world! He used to be a plain old music teacher; but then he went on that TV show American Idol, and now he’s a famous rapper.
Mr. Hynde’s homeboys started yelling into the microphones.
“And now, appearing live and in person at Ella Mentry School is the one…the only…Jam Master Hynde, the One-Man Funky Groove Machine! Give it up, y’all! Mr. Hynde is in the house!”
The drums got louder. The lights got brighter.
“Yo! What up, homeys?” Mr. Hynde shouted. “Put your hands together! I’m here to rock your world! So get on your feet! The only way to get down is to get up!”
We all stood up and started clapping. Mr. Hynde danced around. Then he threw off his purple cape and started rapping:
Now, my name’s Hynde, and I’m here to remind.
Summer’s here, and it’s time to unwind.
Word on the street is you’re graduatin’,
so I dropped in for some congratulatin’.
You’re gettin’ so big, movin’ up to third grade.
Bet you think you got it all made.
But lemme just give you a little advice:
You better not be naughty, you better be nice,
You better brush your teeth, and here’s the real deal,
you better wash your
hands before you eat a meal.
You better clean your room, and you better be kind.
Don’t stare at the sun unless you wanna go blind.
Better mind your manners and stay outta danger.
Don’t tease your brother or take candy from a stranger.
Early to bed and early to rise,
don’t touch the paint until it dries.
Sticks and stones may break your bones
but not like killer robot clones.
Now, here’s what I’m really tryin’ to rap
while you sit there in your gown and cap.
Some days you’ll feel sad, some days you’ll feel happy,
some nights you’ll feel mad, some nights you’ll feel crappy.
But I ain’t jivin’, and I ain’t jestin’.
That’s just what makes life interestin’.
Anyway, that’s what I got to say
on this, your graduation day.
You kids are cool, you’re in the groove,
so now it’s time to bust a move!
Everybody was going crazy. One of the guys in the marching band gave President Clinton a saxophone, and he started playing it. Mr. Hynde danced around and drummed on Mr. Klutz’s head like it was a bongo.
Mr. Hynde is out of his mind!
Finally Mr. Hynde and President Clinton climbed into the helicopter and flew away.
That had to be the end of it. We were sure to get our diplomas and cake now.
But no!
Mrs. Dole raised her arm, and a million hundred white doves went flying up in the air! It was amazing! I was glad I had a square on my head just in case one of those doves pooped.
Mrs. Dole is out of control!
“Where did all those doves come from?” I asked Ryan.
