Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School #4) - Louis Sachar Page 0,26

out for it but missed.

The next thing he knew, he was spinning wildly in circles.

The curved handle of the umbrella had hooked the pole.

Louis whirled dizzily around it as he slowly moved down the pole. By the time he reached the ground, he must have circled the flagpole more than a thousand times.

Sharie ran to him.

To Louis, it looked like there were six Sharies, all spinning like tops.

“Thanks, Louis—you’re the best!” said Sharie, taking her umbrella. “But really, there was no big rush. You could have just used the stairs.”

30

Rainbow

There was no stove in the cafeteria kitchen. An enormous pot hung from a thick chain above a blazing fire.

“Lower the pot,” ordered Miss Mush.

Mr. Pepperadder turned the squeaky crank, and the pot came down.

“What will it be today?” he asked.

“Shh!” said Miss Mush.

Mr. Pepperadder knew better. You must never interrupt a great artist during her moment of inspiration.

Miss Mush’s eyes were closed. She rubbed her chin. She wanted to make something truly special after the Storm of Doom. “Rainbow stew!” she declared as she raised her wooden spoon high above her head.

“Brilliant!” agreed Mr. Pepperadder.

“What do we have that’s red?” asked Miss Mush.

Mr. Pepperadder looked over his inventory list. “Red cabbage,” he said. “Beets, strawberries, red peppers.”

Miss Mush waved the wooden spoon and said, “Toss them in the pot!”

Flames shot up as Mr. Pepperadder threw in the ingredients. He had to shield his eyes from the smoke.

“What about yellow?” asked Miss Mush.

“Yellow squash, bananas, yellow peppers, yellow onions . . .”

“Start with the bananas,” said Miss Mush, “and then we’ll see about the onions.”

Mr. Pepperadder started to peel a banana, but Miss Mush stopped him.

“The peel is the part that’s yellow,” she reminded him. “If I wanted white, I would have asked for peeled bananas.”

“Sorry,” said Mr. Pepperadder. He tossed fifty-seven bushels of bananas, peels and all, into the pot.

There was a loud hissing noise, as steam filled the room.

Some cooks considered things like taste, or perhaps nutrition, when preparing a meal. For rainbow stew, color was all that mattered.

Miss Mush stirred the pot with a large stick. “Perhaps a little black now, for definition,” she said.

Mr. Pepperadder read from his list. “Poppy seeds, burnt toast, my shoes . . .”

High above them, in Mrs. Jewls’s class, several children held their noses.

“What’s that smell?” asked Calvin.

“Miss Mush must be cooking something,” said Bebe.

“It smells like shoes,” said Myron.

D.J. sniffed. “Black shoes,” he said. “With hard soles, and no laces.”

“You can smell the laces?” asked Kathy.

“No,” said D.J. “I just told you there weren’t any laces.”

Mr. Kidswatter’s voice came over the speaker. “GOOD MORNING, STUDENTS. IT’S ANOTHER GREAT DAY HERE AT—”

There was the sound of paper rustling.

“—WAYSIDE SCHOOL. FOR LUNCH TODAY, MISS MUSH WILL BE SERVING RAINBOW STEW. IT WILL BE THE GREATEST LUNCH EVER!”

Fifteen floors beneath them, Miss Mush felt her stomach tighten. She too heard Mr. Kidswatter’s morning announcement. Now the pressure was on.

She climbed a ladder and stared down into the bubbling pot. Her face was covered with soot and sweat. “Something orange,” she decided.

“How about oranges?” suggested Mr. Pepperadder.

“Too obvious,” said Miss Mush.

“Carrots?”

“I suppose . . .” said Miss Mush, although carrots didn’t feel right to her.

Inspiration struck! “Eighteen pumpkins!” she exclaimed.

Each pumpkin made a giant splash, as Miss Mush and Mr. Pepperadder took turns tossing them into the pot.

After all the pumpkins were added to the stew, a tiny smile crept across Miss Mush’s face.

It was a smile that all great artists know well. After years of self-doubt, she started to believe that she was on the verge of creating something truly wonderful.

But it was just a quick smile, and then back to work!

The doubts always return.

The lunch bell kaboinked, and the children descended upon the cafeteria.

“Rainbow Stew,” said Benjamin. “It sounds like it could be good.”

“Don’t let the name fool you,” warned Todd. “The better the name, the worse it tastes.”

“Remember when she made ‘Midnight Madness’?” asked Paul.

“Don’t even say it!” snapped Leslie. “I was up all night, running around in circles.”

Miss Mush and Mr. Pepperadder stood shoulder to shoulder as the children lined up. They had finished the stew only moments before.

“I hope they like it,” Miss Mush whispered.

“They will,” Mr. Pepperadder assured her. He wore short pants, black socks, and no shoes.

Miss Mush hoped he was right, but all her doubts had returned. Her apron was splotched with lots of bright colors, but the rainbow stew looked like lumpy grayish-brown mud.

She didn’t understand it. What had happened to all the colors?

Maurecia reached the front of the line. Miss Mush scooped some rainbow stew into a bowl and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Miss Mush,” said Maurecia, always polite.

“Sorry, it was supposed to be a bit more colorful,” explained Miss Mush. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

Joy was next.

“Sorry,” Miss Mush said again as she handed a bowl to Joy.

“Sorry, Ron,” she said. “Sorry, Deedee. Sorry, Joe. Sorry, John. Sorry, sorry, sorry. . . .”

Allison and Rondi sat at one end of a long table. “Are you going to eat it?” Rondi asked Allison.

“I have a tangerine in my pocket,” said Allison. “Maybe I’ll just eat that.”

Rondi watched as Allison slowly removed the entire peel in just one piece.

Deedee counted the points on her fork.

D.J. swirled his plastic fork through the gray muck. “Well, here goes,” he announced.

He poked his fork into something solid. It could have been a vegetable, or maybe a piece of meat, or perhaps part of a shoe.

He lowered his fork. “Maybe later,” he said.

“Looks delicious!” Kathy said enthusiastically. She took a big spoonful, brought it to her mouth, and swallowed.

“Yummy!” she declared.

The other kids couldn’t be sure. They could never tell anymore when Kathy was speaking in opposites.

Calvin stabbed something gooey with his fork. He brought it to his mouth, chewed a while, and then chewed some more.

“Well?” asked Bebe.

Calvin wasn’t sure how to describe it. “Red,” he said at last.

“Red?” questioned Allison. “That’s a color, not a taste.”

“And blue,” said Calvin.

Rondi took a bite. She chewed awhile. “Purple!” she declared.

“I taste yellow!” said Todd.

Dana swallowed. “Pink!” she exclaimed.

John finished chewing, then swallowed. “Kind of a blue green,” he said.

“It’s delicious,” said Sharie. “Purple and green with yellow polka dots.”

The more they chewed, the more colors they tasted.

“That’s silly,” said Allison. She took a bite.

Her eyes shone. She tasted orange, with green and purple stripes, and a black outline.

“Do you like it?” asked Rondi.

“Only the best lunch ever!” said Allison.

Mr. Pepperadder grabbed and shook Miss Mush’s arm. “They like it!” he said excitedly. “Look at them! They really like it.”

Miss Mush didn’t say a word. A tear rolled down her sweaty and sooty cheek.

“Did you write down the recipe?” he asked.

Miss Mush shook her head. “There is no recipe,” she whispered. “No two rainbows are the same.”

She gazed out across the lunchroom. This was all she ever wanted.

Everybody chewed.

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