Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School #4) - Louis Sachar Page 0,4
his hands too. Eighty-three was more than double forty.
Eric Fry did the math on the board.
2677
+ 40
2717
“Halfway to a million!” cheered Stephen.
“Not quite,” Allison told him.
“Anyone else?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
Again Eric Ovens raised his hand, but Eric Bacon had already hopped out of his seat and was headed toward the front of the room.
He handed Mrs. Jewls a plastic bag full of nail clippings. “Three hundred and forty-nine!” he declared triumphantly.
The class went wild. Sharie gasped. Stephen fell out of his chair.
Eric Bacon danced around Mrs. Jewls’s desk, like a football player who had scored a touchdown.
Mrs. Jewls was skeptical of the spectacle. “I could count them,” she warned.
Eric stopped dancing. “Go ahead,” he challenged her.
Mrs. Jewls stared Eric Bacon in the eye. Eric Bacon stared right back.
Mrs. Jewls dumped the bag on her desk, and divided the clippings into four piles. She asked Dameon, Allison, and John to help. They each took a pile, and then Mrs. Jewls added their totals together.
“Three hundred and forty-nine,” she announced, “just as Eric said.”
Again, everyone cheered, and Eric Bacon continued his victory dance.
“How did you get so many?” Mrs. Jewls asked him.
Eric B. stopped dancing. “I went door-to-door, asking my neighbors,” he said.
Everyone laughed.
Leslie had sold wrapping paper door-to-door, but she couldn’t imagine asking people for their toenails!
“It’s easier than asking for money,” said Eric. “Everyone was happy to donate.”
He erased the number 71 and put 349 in its place. Then he did the math.
2717
+ 349
3066
“Almost a million!” Stephen called out.
“Not even close,” muttered Allison.
Mrs. Jewls told Eric Bacon to take a Tootsie Roll Pop from her coffee can.
He took one. Then, when she wasn’t looking, he took another.
“Anyone else?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
Eric Ovens sat glumly at his desk.
“Raise your hand,” urged Kathy.
“Why bother?” he muttered.
Kathy got up from her seat and stood next to him. She grabbed Eric’s arm and raised it for him. “Eric Ovens brought a whole lot!” she announced.
“Bring them on up,” said Mrs. Jewls.
He had no choice. “It’s just eighty-three,” he said, and then emptied his bag into the nail bucket.
“That’s the second most ever!” shouted Kathy. She started clapping.
Amazingly, everyone else clapped too.
They were still clapping as he did the math on the board.
3066
+ 83
3149
“That’s closer to a million!” exclaimed Stephen.
Everyone cheered.
Even Allison couldn’t argue with that.
6
Oppositosis
Eric Ovens wasn’t the only one who had noticed that Kathy had become nice. Others, too, began to notice her odd behavior.
“I like your picture,” Kathy told Bebe.
“What’s wrong with it?” Bebe asked.
“Nothing,” said Kathy. “It’s perfect. You are very talented.”
It took Bebe a moment to realize that Kathy hadn’t insulted her.
Mrs. Jewls also noticed the change. “Kathy, will you come here, please?” she asked.
Kathy approached her teacher’s desk. “Yes, Mrs. Jewls?” she asked.
Mrs. Jewls smiled. “You have been doing very well, Kathy,” she said. “I’ve noticed a real improvement in your work, and in your attitude.”
“That must be because you’re such a good teacher,” said Kathy.
“Well, thank you,” said Mrs. Jewls. “But there’s a tiny little problem. I’m having a hard time reading your homework.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at it,” said Mrs. Jewls, showing Kathy her most recent homework assignment.
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Kathy.
“First thing we learned in psychiatrist school,” Dr. Pickle said as he patted D.J. on the head.
“My hiccups are all gone!” D.J. told Kathy.
“Who cares,” Kathy grumpled.
“Would you mind stepping inside my office, young lady?” asked Dr. Pickle.
“But he’s the sicko!” said Kathy, pointing at D.J.
“Please,” said Dr. Pickle.
She entered the counselor’s office. “That beard is really ugly. I guess your face must be even worse, huh?”
Dr. Pickle didn’t get angry. He just stroked his beard and said, “Very interesting.”
Kathy sniffed. “Smells like pickles,” she commented.
“Very interesting, indeed,” the counselor said, and then asked her to sit down.
Kathy sat on the couch. “Lumpy,” she complained.
“I’m going to try a little experiment,” said Dr. Pickle. “I’m going to say a word, and then I want you to say the first word that pops into your head.”
“Stupid!” said Kathy.
“I haven’t started yet,” said Dr. Pickle.
“Sloppy!” said Kathy.
Dr. Pickle realized he had better hurry up and get started. “Cold,” he began.
“Hot,” Kathy replied.
“Hard.”
“Soft.”
“Skinny.”
“Fat.”
“This is kind of fun, isn’t it, Kathy?” asked Dr. Pickle.
“No, it’s boring,” said Kathy.
“Worse than I thought,” said Dr. Pickle. “I studied your condition in psychiatrist school. “I’m afraid you have a bad case of oppositosis.”
“No, I don’t. You do!”
Dr. Pickle stroked his beard.
Unfortunately, there was no known cure for oppositosis. Other psychiatrists had tried to help their patients learn to be kind and think