Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School #4) - Louis Sachar Page 0,14

some reason, she thought reading was important.)

Whenever Jason looked at the board, he got a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach—almost as heavy as the 999-page book he lugged around in his backpack. It was like his own Cloud of Doom that he took wherever he went.

He didn’t know how he’d ever read it. His book report was already three weeks late.

One time his bookmark fell out. It took him twenty minutes just to find his place.

He was very disappointed to discover he was only on page six.

“Jason, is your book report ready yet?” Mrs. Jewls asked him each day he walked into class.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jewls,” he told her. “It’s a really, really, really long book.”

He always answered the same way, although the number of reallys varied.

“How do you like your book?” Allison asked him.

“Have you finished it yet?” asked Rondi.

The two girls giggled.

He wondered if anyone had ever read a book with 999 pages. Maybe the author never even finished writing it. Perhaps she quit after 300 pages, figuring nobody would ever get that far anyway.

That evening, however, something strange happened.

Jason was trying to get through page twenty-six, when suddenly he laughed. He read some more, and laughed again.

It was as if he and the character had become friends. He read for an entire hour without realizing it.

When he reached page seventy, something sad happened, and he hoped his sister didn’t notice his tears.

He stayed up all night. He read about exciting battles, and strange and goofy animals. No matter how tired he got, he kept needing to know what happened next.

The next day during recess, while everyone else played, Jason preferred to sit by himself with his book. He even liked the kissing parts, but had to keep glancing around, to make sure Allison and Rondi couldn’t see what he was reading.

The two girls came toward him.

“He’ll never finish it,” said Allison.

“No way,” Rondi agreed.

“Shh,” said Jason. “I’m trying to read.”

17

The Best Principal Ever!!!

Mrs. Jewls went from desk to desk, handing back everyone’s history homework. “Nice job, Eric,” she said to one of the Erics. “Well done, Eric,” she said to another. “You better study the history of cabbage,” she told the third Eric. “The Ultimate Test is coming.”

The third Eric, naturally, was Eric Ovens. He thought he knew all about the history of cabbage, and felt bad when he saw his homework grade. Then he realized that Mrs. Jewls had given him Eric Bacon’s paper by mistake.

It turned out Eric Bacon had Eric Fry’s homework, and Eric Fry had his.

They switched papers.

Mrs. Jewls moved on. “Nice job, Deedee, although your paper smelled somewhat strange.”

She stopped at Jason’s desk and shook her head. “I was very disappointed, Jason.”

“Sorry,” Jason muttered. He could barely hold his head up. “I was up all night reading.”

“He’ll never finish his book, Mrs. Jewls,” said Allison.

Suddenly, the classroom door swung open and banged against the wall. Everyone turned to see Mr. Kidswatter.

“Good morning, children,” he said.

They stared at him. He had never been inside their classroom before.

Mr. Kidswatter loudly cleared his throat. “I said, ‘Good morning, children . . .’”

Mrs. Jewls hurried to the front of the room. She waved her hands like an orchestra conductor.

“Good morning, Mr. Kidswatter,” the children said in unison.

The principal smiled. “What’s all this?” he asked, pointing to the twenty-seven plastic containers stacked against the wall.

“Toenails,” said Paul.

“Also fingernails,” added Leslie so the principal wouldn’t think the class was weird.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re doing important work here,” said Mr. Kidswatter.

“Would you like to donate a toenail, or maybe a fingernail?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

Mr. Kidswatter curled his fingers as he examined his nails. “No, I’m still using mine. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for a student to bang the gong on Friday. I figured I’d start at the top, and work my way down, until I found someone willing to—”

Every arm shot up in the air. Calls of “Pick me” and “Ooh, ooh” could be heard from around the room.

“Oh,” said Mr. Kidswatter. “I guess it won’t take as long as I thought.”

“Me, me,” begged Bebe, stretching her arm high.

“No, me, me!” urged Deedee.

It was impossible to know where Mr. Kidswatter was looking. He wore mirrored sunglasses, even indoors.

Joy had both hands raised, doubling her chances of being picked. “You’re the best principal ever!!!” she called out.

Mr. Kidswatter’s head turned. “YOU!!!” he boomed, pointing his finger.

Everybody groaned, except for the one person he had chosen.

“Me?” Stephen asked meekly.

“You?” asked Mr. Kidswatter, sounding