Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School #4) - Louis Sachar Page 0,12

knee hurt, but that was the least of his worries. He got back to his feet and limped up the stairs.

Actually, only one eyehole would have helped. His left eye was shut tight. His other eye was wide open. The eyebrow was raised in a constant expression of surprise.

By counting his steps, he knew when he reached the fourth floor. He felt his way to the door, then knocked.

“Yes, who’s there?” asked Dr. P from the other side.

Mr. K did not want to say his name aloud in case anyone was listening. He opened the door and entered.

If Dr. P was surprised to see a person with a bag over his head, he didn’t show it. He had been trained to keep a straight face, no matter what! Whenever someone came to see him, it was part of his job to act like everything was perfectly normal.

“Yes, what seems to be the problem?” he asked, stroking his beard.

Mr. K removed the bag.

“Yikes!” screamed Dr. P, throwing both his hands up in the air.

He quickly regained his composure. “So, why did you come see me?” he asked as he rubbed his beard.

Mr. K made an “uhhhh” noise as he pointed to his face.

“Your face is stuck?” said Dr. P.

Mr. K nodded.

“Please, have a seat.”

Mr. K sat on the couch.

Dr. P came closer to get a better look. He poked a puffed-out cheek. “Does this hurt?” he asked.

Mr. K shook his head.

“How about this?” He tugged on the tip of Mr. K’s tongue.

Again, Mr. K shook his head.

“Very interesting,” said Dr. P.

He walked to the bookshelf. “Hmm . . .” he muttered as he tried to find the book he needed. “This should do it!” he declared, removing a very fat book.

He bonked Mr. K on the top of the head with it.

“Uhh!” exclaimed Mr. K.

“Any better?” Dr. P.

“I bit my tongue,” Mr. K said without moving his lips.

“Hmm, this will be more difficult than I thought,” said Dr. P. He returned to the bookshelf, chose a different book, and brought it to his desk. He thumbed through the pages. “Cold feet . . . sticky fingers . . . ah, here we are, stuck face!”

He silently read to himself for a minute or two, then looked up and asked, “Did you have a pet when you were a child?”

Mr. K nodded.

Dr. P looked back at his book and read some more.

“A cat?”

Mr. K shook his head.

“A dog?”

He nodded.

“Did you love your dog?”

Mr. K’s head didn’t move at all. A tear trickled out of his eye and dripped down his face.

“Excellent!” declared Dr. P. “I think we’re making real progress.”

He shut the book, scooted his chair up close, and leaned toward Mr. K. “Look into my eyes,” he said.

With his one eye, Mr. K stared at Dr. P.

Dr. P stared back.

He held up a gold chain with a green stone attached. He let the stone swing gently back and forth between them. Their faces were so close, the stone kept barely missing their noses.

“I’m going to take you back to another time and place,” said Dr. P. “You are just a young boy, playing with your dog in your backyard. Your grandmother smiles from the kitchen window. A pie is baking in the oven. You can smell cinnamon.”

Mr. K’s nose twitched.

“Now your grandmother is outside, holding the pie. She asks if you want some.”

Mr. K’s tongue remained sticking out. However, it slowly moved from one side of his mouth to the other.

Dr. P noted the breakthrough.

“But instead of giving you a piece of pie,” he said, “she smashes it in your face!”

Mr. K’s mouth popped open. Then his face snapped back into place.

His eyebrow lowered. His eye opened. His cheek unpuffed. His tongue went back inside where it belonged.

“Why did she do that to me?” he cried.

Dr. P handed him a tissue.

Mr. K wiped his eyes, and then cleaned the imaginary pie off his face. He stood and straightened his suit.

“You won’t tell anybody anything about this, will you?” he asked.

“Everything that happens inside this office is strictly confidential,” Dr. P assured him.

Mr. K left the office feeling as dignified as ever.

Dr. P leaned back in his chair, with his hands behind his head. He felt very satisfied. It’s not every day that he gets to help someone as important as Mr. K.

Dr. P’s tongue was sticking out.

His left eyebrow was raised. His right eye was shut tight. And it looked like he was trying to swallow a tennis ball.

15

The Unbreakables

It’s bad