by Ted Staunton
I grumble, “If you’re so smart at math, how come you need my homework?”
“I don’t. I just wanted to make you give it to me. And I don’t want it anymore anyway. You make too many mistakes.”
“I do not!”
“Do, too. Now pay up.”
“But you don’t do anything.”
“I showed you how to throw papers.”
“You wrecked a bunch of Christmas lights!”
“Hey, you were the one who jumped on them, Lardo. And I count the papers.”
“Charlie counts the papers!”
“Yeah, well, you never do and I tell him. And anyway, I make it fun.”
Aldeen makes it fun? Aldeen makes it fun? “You do not!”
“Oh, yeah? Did you have fun today?”
“No.”
“See? Now give me the money and go away. I’m watching TV with Muscles.”
I give her the money. She slams the door. When I get home, Charlie calls.
“Thanks for the money. Want to play Skateboards on Mars after supper?”
9
A Testing Time
Monday afternoon, it’s math test time. Charlie doesn’t look nervous, but he never does. Aldeen looks mean. So what else is new? Does she really not need help with math? I dunno. Does she make doing papers fun? No. So who cares what happens on her math test? All she did was take my money.
Mrs. Ross hands out the test. “No talking, please,” she says.
The test looks easy, twenty questions. I zoom through ten. I look at Charlie. He’s scratching away, his tongue sticking out. He’s doomed, I can tell. And then I get it — how to help him — and get my papers done again. Why didn’t I think of this before? I bomb through the next ten questions, then slide my paper over to the edge of my desk where he can see it. Then I fake cough into the quiet, “Kuff, kuff.”
Charlie doesn’t look up. I tap my pencil. Charlie doesn’t look up. I scrinch my desk around. Charlie doesn’t look up.
“Morgan,” says Mrs. Ross, “Quiet, please. If you’re finished, check your work.”
I don’t need to check my work, I need to get Charlie to see it. I jiggle in my seat.
“Morgan!” warns Mrs. Ross. Charlie still doesn’t look up. And he never does, until Mrs. Ross says, “Pencils down, please.”
Aldeen collects for our row. She goes up the row, grabbing papers off desks like some kind of monster octopus.
“Aldeen,” calls Mrs. Ross as the other papers get handed in, “What are you doing?”
“I forgot to sign my name,” Aldeen says from the back.
After school I go home by myself. I have a snack, then start my papers. I’m hot inside my snow stuff. It’s warm out today. It’s quiet, too, doing papers by myself. I can hear every swick swick my boots make in the slush and the drip drip drip of things melting. It’s also boring doing papers by myself. Aldeen didn’t make papers fun, but at least they weren’t boring. I sigh and find the biggest slush puddle I can. I stomp in it. My papers fall in.
10
New Deal
We get the math tests back on Wednesday. I get thirteen out of twenty. By the mark it says, “You can do better, Morgan.” Charlie gets fifteen out of twenty and a “Great Job!” And Aldeen, Aldeen gets PERFECT and an “Excellent as usual.”
I’m stunned. It’s me who’s supposed to be good at math.
Charlie is all happy. He says, “Know how I got it? When you brought the money over, I could see what I was splitting up. It was easier.” His paper is covered with little pencil marks where it looks as if he counted everything. “I’m still slow,” he says, “But all the ones I did were right.”
I almost say, “If it worked, then give me back the money,” but Charlie says first, “Do your papers fast today, then we can play Skateboards on Mars.”
“No, you can’t,” says Aldeen. “I’m coming over and I’m staying for supper, too.”
Oh, boy. What a perfect ending for my day. Then all at once I don’t care, even about my mark, because I have a fantastic idea.
At supper I say to Mom and Dad, “I have to quit my papers. I got a bad math test. I need more time to study.” Maybe this will keep Aldeen away, too.
Before Dad can say anything Mom says, “You’re darn right you’re quitting, because I am, too. I’ve had enough of papers.”
“Wait a sec,” Dad says, “We promised three months. Who’s going to do them?”
“Buyldooid,” says Aldeen. Her mouth is full again. I think she means “I’ll do it.” She swallows. Her eyes squinch. “I’d get the money, right?”
“Sure,” says Dad. “But what about your video game, Morgan?”
“Charlie and I finished it Saturday,” I say. “There’s only bonus level left.”
Holy cow, I think my plan is really going to work. And if Aldeen does the papers, she’ll be busy after school. Oh, yessssssss. Then Aldeen says, “But Morgan has to help me. Charlie and I did great on math because we learned it on the paper route. If Blimp — uh, Morgan — paid attention, he’d get it too.”
“What? You —” I’m about to say “big fat liar” but Mom and Dad say, “It’s worth a try.” They look at me.
All I can say is, “Just until my mark goes up.”
After supper, I do say, “You big fat liar.”
“You should talk, Tubby. Anyway, you owe me. I saved you from flunking. Look at your test,” she orders. “I changed some of your bozo answers when I was at the back.”
I look. It’s true. I’m stuck. “Thanks,” I say.
Aldeen shrugs and folds our newspaper. “Besides, it’ll be fun.” She tosses the paper. It hits the TV. It might not be fun, but it’s going to be something.
Text copyright © 2011, 2005 Ted Staunton
Illustrations copyright © 2011, 2005 Bill Slavin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Formac Publishing Company Limited acknowledges the support of the Cultural Affairs Section, Nova Scotia Department of Tourism, Culture and Heritage. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities. We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program.
Cataloguing in Publication data is available from Library and Archives Canada
This digital edition first published in 2011 as 978-0-88780-183-9
Originally published in 2005 as 978-0-88780-666-7
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