by Rachel Vail
4. But what if Mr. Leonard says, Please answer the question, young man?
5. Noah presenting his project because his is still not a map of the imaginary ocean floor: it is still just a papier-mâché of a Sloane’s viperfish, despite the extra day we got.
6. Even if you are a big fan of the Sloane’s viperfish, and even if Sloane’s viperfish are in the book of Guinness World Records for their big teeth-to-head ratio, it is still not an okay project if the teacher said to make a map of an imaginary ocean floor.
7. Although Noah has been kind of mean to me lately, I still don’t want him to get in trouble in school.
8. Maybe with his mom.
9. But not in school. Because he is still my friend.
10. And there are limits.
October 20, Wednesday
Didn’t get called on again. Phew.
Neither did Noah. Phew.
Xavier Schwartz and Cash went though. Theirs was awesome. It had moving parts and glitter. Our innovation of chewed gum seems less cool now than it used to.
And in gym we have moved on from Tug-of-War. Which is great except that Native Americans long ago played a game called lacrosse so now we have to too.
October 21, Thursday
How are we supposed to keep track of the independent reading AND how to spell stuff AND what new song we’re supposed to know how to play on the recorder when at any moment we could be called on to explain why there is chewed gum and what the heck is that mess in the corner where I messed up, so what, people mess up sometimes. I tried to make it look like a lake, but I am now realizing, too late, that how can there be a lake on the ocean floor? Even if it is imaginary?
There is too much going on. My head is pounding so, so hard.
And I haven’t even figured out Halloween yet.
October 22, Friday
First kids called to present their map of an imaginary ocean floor today:
Me and Montana C.
Kid who did all the talking and explaining about it:
Montana C.
Kid who just stood up there:
Me.
Teacher who raised one eyebrow and looked not so impressed with the silent kid:
Mr. Leonard.
Kid who made Mr. Leonard smile with his explanation of his map:
Noah.
What he explained:
The only thing on this imaginary ocean floor is a massive Sloane’s viperfish. Because the Sloane’s viperfish ate up every other thing that was ever there before.
October 23, Saturday
Dad sure loves when our team wins.
Mom said, “But what we’re really proud of is how well you all worked together and had fun and were good sports, win OR lose.”
Dad said, “Absolutely.”
But when Mom turned around to see what Elizabeth was screaming about, Dad danced around whisper-singing, “We won! We won! We won like winning winners, yo!”
And then he stopped as soon as Mom looked at him.
And then started again.
Again and again.
October 24, Sunday
In Our Family We Don’t Criticize in Front of Others.
Except today Mom broke that rule.
Yes. Mom. And I’m not even talking about when she said, “Stop asking me about a scooter, Justin, or you’ll never get one in your entire life.” Because that kerfuffle was just in front of me.
Gingy and Poopsie were over for dinner when she got an e-mail from Elizabeth’s teacher, who was requesting a meeting with Mom and Dad because of what has been going on with Elizabeth and Buckey. Which reminded me, I still haven’t found out if his real name is Bucket. But I didn’t get to bring up that question because Mom asked Elizabeth, “What has been going on with you and Buckey?”
“Nothing,” Elizabeth said, concentrating very much on twirling her spaghetti.
“Why does your teacher want to meet with us about it then?” Dad asked.
“Oh, probably because I kissed him. It was no big deal.”
Everybody wanted more information about THAT, including Qwerty.
But Elizabeth said, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Mom and Dad wanted to know where she ever heard such an expression. She wouldn’t answer that, either.
I have a theory. I think it was somebody who whispered, “Atta girl” to Elizabeth and then kissed his wife whose name is Gingy and said, “I don’t kiss and tell either.”
October 25, Monday
For homework we have to write what we are going to be when we grow up. For the Halloween celebration on Friday, which is not actually Halloween, we are supposed to come in dressed as ourselves as grown-ups, to show our jobs. I think we should be allowed to keep our options open about our careers for a little while longer, but apparently by fourth grade it is time to make some choices and commit. Elizabeth used to want to be a Vegetarian as her job. Last month she wanted to be a Ninja. Now she wants to be President and a Part-Time Ninja and also a Firefighter and a Lobster and a Flower-Picker, but mostly she wants to stop getting put in trouble for kissing Buckey.
“I have a lot of ambitions, Justin,” she told me.
I was thinking I would steal Ninja but we have to write down WHY we want to be it and I don’t have a good reason. I don’t think Mr. Leonard would accept Because ninjas are cool.
So instead of playing video games with Poopsie like I want to, I have to sit here at my desk, trying to think of a good reason why I want to be Qwerty (or I could just say a Dog) when I grow up.
The actual reason, which I can’t write down obviously, is:
Because that is such a good costume, so gluey and toilet-papery.
October 26, Tuesday
WHEN I GROW UP
By Justin K., 4-L
I want to be a Philanthropist when I grow up. The reason I want to be a Philanthropist is because those guys are all rich. Every single one. You can’t say the same for all baseball players or all businessmen or all rock stars, only Philanthropists. So therefore, that is the job that I choose. Philanthropist. Also, part of your job if you are a Philanthropist is: They name stuff after you like hospitals and Bowl games and sometimes a stadium. That would be okay with me. My grandfather suggested this occupation to me, although he is a retired cobbler, which means either: a kind of pie or you repair shoes. He was the type of cobbler with shoes, according to his wife, who is probably the more reliable source because I don’t think Type of Pie is a job even if Poopsie says Oh, yes, it was, back in The Day. Things have changed a lot. Kids these days.
But anyway, Poopsie recommends Philanthropist over Cobbler as a job so I will go with that. I would like to make shoes, I think, or even repair them because I like tools (the regular kind that go in a box, I mean, not transition words, no offense), but I do not enjoy pie. (No offense if you like pie.)
I was thinking maybe I would like to be a Ninja, however, Poopsie said it’s hard to make a living these days as a Ninja. I told him well, that’s a drawback because I would like to be a Billionaire. Or possibly a Trillionaire. Poopsie thought that was a good idea, being something with “aire” at the end of it. He said you end up very wealthy in those fields.
In conclusion, since Gingy said that Billionaire and Trillionaire are not jobs, try again before I will give either of you knuckleheads a snack, Poopsie and I decided I should be a Philanthropist.
The End.
By Justin Krzeszewski
October 27, Wednesday
On Friday we have to come to school dressed up as our job that we want. Too bad I forgot about being a Lumberjack because if I wrote that, I could wear jeans and a flannel shirt like Cash. Lumberjacks are The Boss. The Boss means the coolest and you can’t criticize it at all, in Cash language. Instead now I am going to have to wear my suit and instead of like a Boss, I will look like what I want to be when I grow up is Bartholomew Wiggins.
October 28, Thursday
Noah says Philanthropist is not a job.
Yeah?
&
nbsp; Well, Gastroenterologist is not a job, Noah. It’s a kind of sea creature, I bet. That’s what Gianni Schicci said, anyway, and maybe he doesn’t know very much about things other than cheating and being a goofball, but I think on this one he might be right.
Even if he is dressing up as a Pirate tomorrow, which I don’t think is a real job either. But he gets to bring a sword and wear an eye patch, so that’s way cooler than something that sounds like probably it’s the loser cousin of an octopus and too bad if that makes Noah sad on the playground when people say that.
He shouldn’t have laughed at my job choice. That is probably even a school rule he broke, laughing at me like that. But is he the one who ends up in the Principal’s Office?
No.
That would be my little sister, the Kissing Bandit.
October 29, Friday
If we all succeed at our ambitions, there are going to be a lot of sports stars in the future who went to W. H. Taft Elementary School. Plus a Lumberjack, a Gastroenterologist, a President (Montana C.), some Teachers (a lot of the girls and some of the boys, who all basically dressed up as Mr. Leonard), a Pirate, a Geologist (Bartholomew Wiggins), a Cat (Montana B., who I think didn’t get a good grade on this), a Movie Director (Daisy), and a Computer Genius/LEGO Designer/Video-Game-Maker (Xavier Schwartz, who just spray-painted his hair green as his costume).
We had to stand up and say our names and our jobs in the morning assembly. And then spend the whole day in our costumes. Ms. Zhang said she thought mine was hilarious. Mr. Calabrio didn’t seem so impressed, but since I had on shoes instead of sneakers I was excused from playing lacrosse, so I didn’t mind. Even though I had to sit next to Penelope Ann Murphy, who wants to be a ballet dancer, the kind who stands on her tiptoes all day. She got excused too because she could barely walk in those things, never mind run. She stole them from her mom’s closet, she told me.
Good thing I didn’t say Detective for my thing or I might have to turn her in to the authorities for robbery.
October 30, Saturday
I told Mom instead of the police on Penelope Ann Murphy.
I swore Mom to secrecy before I told her, while we were walking Qwerty.
Mom said it was good I told her, but Penelope’s mother had probably figured it out already.
What I do not want to be when I grow up:
A Tattletale.
Maybe I should also have told Mom about all the mean stuff Noah has been doing lately too, so she could be proud of me for using words instead of fists again, and also for understanding that maybe Noah is having a hard year, and for being patient and a good friend to him. It makes me feel very excellent when she says stuff like that. It’s nice to hear from her about how good I am. It almost takes the stinger out of the Noah meannesses.
But it was time to leave for soccer, so I didn’t have time. I dressed up as a soccer player in the horrible cleats that we have to wear this year, and I pretended to be a sports star.
As a soccer player, I think I am a pretty good Doughnut Eater.
Noah didn’t even show up for the game. If he doesn’t feel like it, his mom lets him skip.
October 31: HALLOWEEN, Sunday
Because it was weirdly warm out, Mom didn’t make us wear jackets over our costumes. I think Elizabeth would have taken hers off and left it in the bushes if Mom had insisted.
“That girl is sure full of beans,” Gingy said.
“Reminds me of you,” Poopsie said.
They were dressed up for Halloween too, even though they aren’t kids. Their costume was Grandparents.
Gingy was dressed as Poopsie and Poopsie was dressed as Gingy.
They should have won for Best Costumes. Everybody thought so. But they didn’t. There was a party at Montana C.’s house, and this year everybody was invited, the whole grade, even boys. And parents and siblings and grandparents or whoever. It was in Montana C.’s backyard. There were relay games and jumping on the trampoline (no swords or other props allowed) and sushi and sandwiches cut into triangles.
At 6:30 there was the costume parade and everybody got to vote by secret ballot. Only kids were included in the parade is why Gingy and Poopsie didn’t win, I am pretty sure.
Daisy won for girl, which she totally deserved, because her costume was so awesome and she made it completely by herself. She was a daisy. So that was perfect. Elizabeth was disappointed that her Ninja costume didn’t win and was working up a full-out pout until Buckey said, “Well, probably if it had blood, you’da won.” Elizabeth smiled at that and then kissed Buckey on the cheek. Everybody saw. Dad grabbed her away because, my goodness, how many times does that girl need to learn the rule No Kissing?
Cash won for boy, for Lumberjack. I’m not saying that’s lame, recycling a costume from a school project. I was dressed as a Philanthropist (which I had to explain at Every Single Door when we trick-or-treated after. All the grown-ups thought I was a Butler or a Fancy Man). But still, if recycled costumes were going to win, I really think the trophy should have gone to Noah.
I do not know how he got that Sloane’s viperfish onto his head or how he could see out the mouth with those big teeth blocking his view.
“Yours is definitely the best,” I said to Noah.
“Yeah?”
“You’re a total boss.”
He tilted his head, like he was considering how to respond, but that made it look like the Sloane’s viperfish was swimming diagonally toward me. Like a really scary demented predator.
“That means it’s awesome,” I told him.
“What?” Noah’s voice echoed like a villain’s inside the fish’s body.
“Yikes, Noah!” I yelled. “If you move your head like that, it looks like you’re swimming all crazed and hungry!”
Noah wiggled his head back and forth. “Like this?”
“Yes!!!”
The other kids came over.
“Check this out,” I said. “Is that the most awesome thing ever?”
“Totally!” Xavier Schwartz yelled.
“Youch!” Gianni Schicci screamed, running away. “It’s gonna eat me!”
“Chase him,” I whispered to Noah.
So Noah did, and we all chased Noah because we were also, in addition to being Pirates and Ninjas and Flowers and Philanthropists, a big gang of Sloane’s Viperfish Hunters.
It was even better than the two full-size candy bars I got from trick-or-treating later, plus the fun-size peanut-butter cup Noah gave me without even making me trade him for it.
November 1, Monday
I do not mind being late to school, even when it means Mom has to write a note and walk me and Elizabeth in through quiet empty corridors, with Mom’s shoes clicking, and mine and Elizabeth’s squeaking. I don’t mind standing at the desk in the Front Office, waiting for a Late Pass while Ms. Robitel behind the desk frowns at me, her glasses way down at the very tip of her nose. At least I got to miss Recorder and the spelling test.
What I do mind is having no more Halloween candy to choose a piece a day from all month.
The reason I have no candy on only November 1 is: Somebody who didn’t need a costume to be a big drooly dog for Halloween gobbled up everything from my trick-or-treat bag.
And then puked it all over the living room.
And then came crying, loudly ashamed, to my bed to wake me up.
I also did mind helping Dad clean it up as punishment because why didn’t I put my bag away in a kitchen cabinet? I tried to explain that I always leave it on my floor, every year before this. I didn’t know the rules have changed since we got a dog.
But they have changed and I’m in trouble, double trouble for not knowing that fact, I guess.
I would be so mad at the person who came up with the let’s-get-a-dog idea if that person’s name were not Justin Case.
Things I Am Good at Getting:
2. In trouble
November 2, Tuesday
The new rule at recess is we don’t get free play. Today we had
to play Wiffle ball. I was feeling kind of down in the dumps about that because my favorite sport is Just Playing and recess is the one time you get for that. Noah and I were sitting next to each other, waiting to be up.
“This stinks,” I said.
“Yeah,” Noah said. He gave me one of the fun-size candy bars he had in his pocket from his Halloween bag, since he doesn’t have a dog. He kept the Krackle for himself and gave me the Special Dark, but still, it was fairly generous.
I don’t know how many fun-size candy bars are in a serving.
Mostly it was nice, just sitting there like that. A lot of the other kids were cheering and stuff, but me and Noah were just sitting there down in the dumps together.
November 3, Wednesday
Noah is going to run for class representative on the Bring Back Free Play at Recess platform.
Cash is going to run on the I’m Cash platform.
I have a feeling I know which way this thing is going to go.
November 4, Thursday
I was up at bat, wishing a hole would please open up all around home plate and I could please fall into it before Xavier Schwartz threw another ball right past my face. And before Cash could yell again, “SWING, JUSTIN CASE! SWING!”
No luck. No hole for me.
Strike two.
I was just sick of standing there, waiting to strike out or walk and I guess still mad about the lack of free play, so I swung. I was thinking, It’s so unfair, after we had Recorder (new song: “Three Blind Mice”) and then a spelling test (I think I might have put too many h’s in rhythm), and then long division with Show Your Work. We should be able to play. Just play.
So I swung the bat and swatted that ball far away. That’s how mad I was.
“Run! Run, Justin Case! Run!”
“Whoa! What a hit!”
I was still just standing there, annoyed about the lack-of-recess, while everybody on my team was yelling that.
