by Louis Sachar
“Pick me, pick me!” begged Bebe.
“Pick me, Mrs. Jewls,” urged Calvin, sitting next to Bebe.
“Sorry, Calvin, you’re too heavy,” Mrs. Jewls told him. “And your toes are too tiny, Bebe.”
Todd sat behind Joy but Mrs. Jewls couldn’t see him behind Joy’s helicopter arms.
“Okay, Joy!” said Mrs. Jewls.
Everyone else groaned.
Joy was all smiles. “You lose, losers!” she said as she headed toward the door.
This week, for science, they would be studying clouds. Luckily, Mrs. Jewls’s class was on the thirtieth floor. It was the classroom closest to the sky.
Last week, they studied dirt. That wasn’t so lucky. By the time they made it down to the ground, science was over, and they had to turn around and trudge back up.
Everyone brought their science notebooks and gathered just outside the door, by the closet that wasn’t there.
Mrs. Jewls put her hands around Joy’s waist. “Alley-oopsy!” she called out, and lifted Joy straight up.
Joy giggled.
This was why Mrs. Jewls hadn’t chosen Calvin. He was too heavy for her to lift.
Mrs. Jewls set Joy on top of the closet. Just above her, a trapdoor led to the roof. Joy stood on her tiptoes and pushed it open. This was why Mrs. Jewls hadn’t chosen Bebe. Her toes weren’t long enough.
A rope ladder tumbled down.
One by one, the children climbed the rope ladder to the roof.
“Be sure to stay away from the edge,” Mrs. Jewls called up to them.
There was a safety railing around the edge, but it was for taller people. Mrs. Jewls was afraid her students could slip right under it.
She was the last one up through the trapdoor. When she reached the roof, she saw everyone standing at the edge.
“What did I just say?” she demanded.
Everyone stared blankly at her.
“Alley-oopsy?” asked Dameon.
“Well, at least somebody was paying attention,” said Mrs. Jewls. She told everyone to take two steps back, and to sit on their bottoms.
“But then we’ll be farther away from the clouds,” Mac complained.
“Sometimes, safety is more important,” said Mrs. Jewls.
She pointed out the clouds to her class. “That one there is a cumulus cloud.”
Some of the students wrote it down in their notebooks. Bebe drew a picture of a sleeping giant. The cumulus cloud was his pillow.
“And that’s a cirrus cloud over there,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Bebe drew a picture of flying angels. Hundreds of white feathers had fallen from their wings and had swirled into a cloud.
Bebe could draw really fast.
“What kind of cloud is that one, Mrs. Jewls?” asked Benjamin.
He was pointing at a dull, dark cloud way off in the distance.
Mrs. Jewls gasped.
If Bebe were to draw it, her picture would look exactly like the inside of a vacuum cleaner bag, while the vacuum was still on.
But Bebe had never seen the inside of a vacuum cleaner bag while the vacuum was still on. So she couldn’t draw it.
“Everyone back to the classroom!” Mrs. Jewls shouted. “Double quick!”
The children scrambled to the trapdoor.
“Hurry!” ordered Mrs. Jewls.
Some fell right through. Others got rope burns.
Mrs. Jewls didn’t worry about little things like that.
She was the last one through the hatch. Sitting atop the closet that wasn’t there, she tossed the ladder back on the roof and locked the trapdoor.
She climbed down, stepping onto the chains and steel bar.
The children were waiting quietly inside the classroom, hands folded on their desks.
Mrs. Jewls walked to the side of the room and looked out the window. Either the cloud was moving closer, or it was getting bigger.
Or both.
“What kind of cloud is it, Mrs. Jewls?” asked Leslie.
There are times when adults hide the truth from children, so as not to worry them. But Mrs. Jewls was a teacher. And this was science.
“Take a good look, boys and girls,” she said, pointing out the window. Then, with a slight tremble in her voice, she said, “That is a Cloud of Doom.”
The room darkened.
9
The Gonnnnng
Louis, the yard teacher, was filling a green ball with air when the Cloud of Doom cast its gloomy shadow over the schoolyard. He felt an eerie chill as he pushed down on his air pump.
Suddenly there was a loud BANG, and the next thing Louis knew, he was lying on the blacktop.
He slowly sat up. He wiggled his fingers. He stuck out his tongue and moved it from side to side. He seemed to be okay. He stood up, still a little wobbly.
Bits of green rubber were scattered across the playground. His air pump was on the other side of the dodgeball circle.
The ball must have exploded from too much air, he realized.
He always tried to put the maximum amount of air into each ball. The kids liked them bouncy. The bouncier the better.
He picked up a piece of green rubber. Then another. And another.
There already weren’t enough balls to go around. The school couldn’t afford to lose another one. He’d have to sew it back together.
In the end he found seventy-three pieces. It was unusually dark for this time of day. He hoped he hadn’t missed any.
“The gong!” he remembered. He hurried to the principal’s office, stuffing cotton balls into his ears as he ran.
“You’re late, Louis,” said Mr. Kidswatter, but Louis couldn’t hear him.
He wheeled the giant gong out of the office to the bottom of the stairs.
At one time, the gong had been bright and shiny, but that was before Louis’s time. Now it was dull and heavily dented. A large mallet, also made of iron, hung from a hook bolted to the gong’s wood frame.
Louis unhooked it, and then took a couple of steps backward to steady himself. The mallet was heavy, even for someone as strong as the yard teacher.
He handed it to Mr. Kidswatter, who easily raised it over his shoulder. Mr. Kidswatter had thick arms, a thick neck, and a thick head.
Louis started the countdown. “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .”
There was a red dot in the center of the gong. On the count of “One!” Mr. Kidswatter swung the mallet and hit it dead center.
GONNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNN . . .
Despite the cotton balls, the sound rattled inside Louis’s head, and echoed up and down the stairs.
. . . nnnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn-NNNNN-nnnnn . . .
Louis took the mallet from Mr. Kidswatter and hung it back on its hook. He wheeled the gong off to the side, just before a river of children flooded down the stairs.
“Hi, Louis!” “Bye, Louis! “See you tomorrow, Louis!” they called to him as they ran by.
He smiled and waved, but all he heard was “Gonnnnnng!”
“Why don’t they ever say those things to me?” Mr. Kidswatter asked a little while later, as they were leaving the school together.
“Maybe if you did something nice?” Louis suggested.
“Like what?” asked the principal.
“Maybe let a kid ring the gong?”
“No way,” snapped Mr. Kidswatter. “That’s the best part about being principal.”
“Or how about getting some more balls for recess?” Louis suggested.
“Too expensive,” said Mr. Kidswatter.
“What if I pay for them?” asked Louis.
Mr. Kidswatter laughed. “You? Where would you get that kind of money? Did you rob a bank?”
“I have money,” said Louis. “I’ve written some books about Wayside School.”
“And you got paid for that?” Mr. Kidswatter asked.
Louis shrugged.
Mr. Kidswatter frowned.
Louis hoped he hadn’t broken a law.
“Do you menti
on me in the books?” asked Mr. Kidswatter.
“Maybe once or twice,” Louis admitted.
“You don’t say anything bad about me, do you?”
“Ummm . . .” said Louis.
“You should write a chapter about me!” declared Mr. Kidswatter. “Call it ‘The Best Principal Ever!!!’ with three exclamation points.”
“First, you would have to do something that makes you the best principal ever,” Louis explained.
“Like what?”
“Let a kid ring the gong.”
This time, Mr. Kidswatter didn’t snap at Louis. He was thinking about it.
Louis looked up at the gloomy cloud. He hadn’t paid much attention to science, back when he was going to school. He didn’t know it was a Cloud of Doom.
Had he known, he never would have made such a dangerous suggestion to Mr. Kidswatter.
10
Stuck
Everybody has a special talent. Bebe can draw. Joe can stand on his head and sing “Jingle Bells.”
But this story isn’t about Bebe or Joe. It’s about Dana.
Dana can make funny faces.
Just by puffing out one cheek and raising the opposite eyebrow, she can make Jenny and Leslie crack up every time.
Or there’s the one she calls her goofball face. She puts her glasses on upside down. Then she pulls down one corner of her mouth with her pinky finger, while with her other hand, she tugs her earlobe.
When Dameon and Myron saw that one, they laughed so hard they bumped heads.
Even Mrs. Jewls laughs at Dana’s funny faces. “But you need to be careful, Dana,” she warned. “You don’t want your face to get stuck that way.”
Dana wasn’t worried about that. No matter how weirdly she stretched it, her face always bounced back.
But that was before the Cloud of Doom settled over the school. It had been there a week now, even as other clouds drifted past. Each day, it seemed to grow a little bit larger.
Dana and Leslie were on the playground, waiting for Jenny. It was recess, and Jenny went to get “Patches” from Louis.
“Patches” was the ball that Louis had blown up, in more ways than one.
Louis never found all the pieces, and had to cut up an old yellow raincoat to fill in the gaps. Jenny, Leslie, and Dana liked Patches the best, because it was impossible to predict which way it would bounce.
“Hey, Dana, there’s a giant worm on your foot!” said John.
Dana looked down at her sneaker.
“Made you look!” John exclaimed. He and Joe laughed.
“So she looked at her foot?” asked Leslie. “What’s wrong with that?”
“There wasn’t even a worm!” explained Joe.
Dana felt like a big doofus. Why did she always fall for John’s tricks?
She made her Doofus Face.
She closed her right eye, raised her left eyebrow, puffed out her right cheek, and stuck out her tongue.
When John looked at it, he suddenly felt like a big doofus. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It was just a dumb joke.”
He hung his head and walked away. Joe followed.
Dana felt sad for John. She hadn’t meant to call him a doofus. She had just wanted to make him laugh. She liked it when John teased her.
Jenny returned with Patches.
“You missed it!” said Leslie. “Dana got back at John good!”
Jenny turned to Dana. “Why are you calling me a doofus?” she asked.
Dana didn’t realize she was still wearing her Doofus Face. She tried to pull her tongue back in but it wouldn’t budge. Her cheek wouldn’t unpuff. Her right eye remained shut, and her left eyebrow stayed up.
“That’s not nice,” said Jenny.
“Uhhhhh . . .” said Dana.
“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Leslie. “Is your face stuck?”
Dana nodded. Her Doofus Face moved up and down.
“So you’re not doing it on purpose?” asked Jenny.
Her Doofus Face turned right, then left.
“It’s the Cloud of Doom!” exclaimed Jenny.
Leslie covered her mouth with her hand.
The three girls looked up at the dark and swirling cloud.
“I’ll get Louis,” Leslie said, and hurried away.
She returned with the yard teacher a short while later.
Louis laughed when he saw Dana.
“It’s her Doofus Face,” said Jenny.
“It’s a good one,” said Louis. “I think I like it even better than your Goofball Face.”
“But now her face is stuck that way!” said Leslie.
Louis thought a moment, and then blew his whistle real loud. Jenny and Leslie covered their ears.
Dana’s face remained stuck.
Louis didn’t really expect it to work. He just liked blowing his whistle.
Kids from all over the playground came running at the sound of it.
“What’s up, Louis?” asked Todd.
“Dana’s face is stuck,” Jenny explained.
“Really?” asked Todd. He poked Dana’s puffed-out cheek. It was like poking a rock.
Mr. Kidswatter also heard the whistle. “Out of my way, let me through,” he ordered as he made his way to Louis and Dana. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
He looked at Dana.
Dana looked back at Mr. Kidswatter.
Their eyes locked.
It became a staring contest. Everyone wondered who would blink first.
But Dana couldn’t blink.
Finally, Mr. Kidswatter turned away. “Cute kid,” he said, and patted Dana on the head. He headed back to the building.
Dana’s face instantly popped back into place.
“Your face is fixed!” exclaimed Jenny.
Dana smiled, but then she made her face return to just plain normal. She didn’t want her smile to get stuck. Even that could be unpleasant. As long as they were under the Cloud of Doom, she would have to be very careful with her facial expressions.
Mr. Kidswatter walked quickly back to his office. He shut the door behind him.
He was sticking out his tongue. His left eye was shut tight, his right eyebrow was raised, and his left cheek was all puffed out.
11
What’s the Point?
In some classrooms, teachers choose the weekly spelling words. Not so in Mrs. Jewls’s class. She lets her students pick.
Nearly everyone had a hand raised. Mrs. Jewls called on Rondi.
“Pistachios,” said Rondi.
This is why other teachers don’t let their students choose the words. Mrs. Jewls couldn’t spell pistachios.
So she did what every teacher everywhere does in such situations. “That’s an excellent word, Rondi,” she said. “Would you like to come up and write it on the board?”
Rondi came to the front of the room. Mrs. Jewls paid close attention as Rondi wrote pistachios on the blackboard.
“I love pistachios,” said Kathy when Rondi returned to her seat.
“Me too,” said Allison. “They’re my third-favorite nut.”
Mrs. Jewls called on D.J.
“Grumple,” he said.
“I don’t think ‘grumple’ is a word,” Mrs. Jewls pointed out.
“So?” asked D.J. “We should still know how to spell it.”
“It might become a word someday,” Kathy agreed.
Mrs. Jewls wrote grumple under pistachios.
Joy raised her hand. “A,” she suggested.
“A what?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
“Just a,” said Joy.
“Don’t you think that’s a little too easy?” said Mrs. Jewls.
“It’s a very common word,” said Kathy. “It’s important that we all know how to spell it.”
Mrs. Jewls couldn’t argue with that. She added a to the list.
Myron had his hand raised.
“Yes, Myron,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“What’s the point?” Myron asked.
“That’s thr
ee words,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“And all good ones too,” chirped Kathy.
“The Cloud of Doom is getting bigger every day!” Myron exclaimed. “What does it matter if we can spell?”
“So we can read and write,” Mrs. Jewls replied.
“What’s the point of reading?” asked Leslie.
“What’s the point of writing?” asked Jason.
“What the point of arithmetic?” asked Benjamin.
“There is no point!” Myron grumpled. He slammed his pencil down hard on his desk. The point broke off of it.
“I understand you’re scared and upset,” said Mrs. Jewls. “But what’s the point of quitting? We can all just sit around and grumple, or we can try to do our best, cloud or no cloud.
“And it hasn’t been all bad,” Mrs. Jewls continued. “We’ve been getting a whole lot more nail clippings.”
That was true. Ever since the Cloud of Doom appeared, everyone’s fingernails and toenails had been growing a lot faster. They had to be clipped three or four times a week.
The number on the board was now 19,457.
“Someday, the Cloud of Doom will be gone,” said Mrs. Jewls. “And the world will be a much better place, even better than before the cloud. Colors will be more colorful. Music will be more musical. Even Miss Mush’s food will taste good. The bigger the storm, the brighter the rainbow.”
At that moment, a crack of thunder shook the classroom, and then the lights went out.
The children screamed. They weren’t scared. They just liked screaming in the dark.
Mrs. Jewls lit a candle, and everyone settled down. “Now, shall we continue with our spelling?”
Jenny raised her hand and suggested, “Hope.”
“Excellent word,” said Mrs. Jewls.
She held her candle in one hand, and the chalk in the other. She said the letters out loud as she wrote them on the blackboard.
“H-o-p-e.”
12
Mrs. Surlaw
The library was on the seventh floor. Mrs. Surlaw was the librarian.
A giant stuffed walrus sat next to her desk. The walrus was bigger than most of the kids in the school, and a couple of the teachers too.
Kindergarteners often got scared the first time they saw Mrs. Surlaw’s walrus. When they dared touch one of its giant tusks, however, they discovered it was soft as a pillow.
