Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School #4) - Louis Sachar Page 0,5
positively.
Dr. Pickle knew that would never work on Kathy. He had his own theory, however. He could try to turn her opposites into double opposites.
He opened his desk drawer and took out his pickle-stone and chain.
Kathy watched the green stone as it gently swung back and forth. She fell asleep on the count of five.
“Can you hear me, Kathy?” he asked.
“And I can smell you too,” she replied.
“You are looking into a mirror,” he told her.
“I’m looking into a mirror,” Kathy repeated, eyes closed.
“Tell me what you see.”
“I see a beautiful girl with black hair,” she said. “And I see a funny-looking man with a pointy beard.”
“Very good,” said Dr. Pickle. “Now I want you to reach out and touch the mirror.”
Kathy slowly moved her arm.
“But as you try to touch it,” said Dr. Pickle, “you’ll discover the mirror isn’t solid. Your hand will go right through it.”
Kathy stuck her hand out farther. “That’s weird,” she said.
“Now stand up, and walk through the mirror.”
Kathy stood up. She took one step, then another. She hesitated for a moment, and then took one last step.
“Amazing!” she exclaimed.
“You are on the other side of the mirror,” said Dr. Pickle. “What do you see?”
Kathy looked around. “Nice office,” she said. She sniffed. “Smells nice too.”
“I’m glad you like it,” said Dr. Pickle. “Would you like to sit on the couch?”
Kathy sat back down. “Very comfortable,” she noted.
“When I count to three, you will wake up. But you will still be on the other side of the mirror. One . . . two . . . three.”
Kathy opened her eyes.
“How do you feel?” he asked her.
“Fine, thanks,” said Kathy. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you,” said Dr. Pickle. “Do you mind if we continue with our little experiment?”
“Sounds like fun,” said Kathy.
“Happy,” said Dr. Pickle.
“Smile,” said Kathy.
“Smart,” said Dr. Pickle.
“Mrs. Jewls,” said Kathy.
“Friend,” said Dr. Pickle.
“D.J.,” said Kathy.
Dr. Pickle led her to the door.
“Thank you, Dr. Pickell,” she said, shaking his hand. “You are very wise. And I like your beard.”
“What’s wrong with my homework?” asked Kathy.
“It’s written backward!” said Mrs. Jewls. “Every sentence. Every word. Every letter. Even the numbers are backward.”
“Looks normal to me,” said Kathy. “Do you want me to do it over?”
Mrs. Jewls sighed. “No, that’s all right, Kathy. I’m just happy to see you doing so well. I’ll figure it out.”
7
The Closet That Wasn’t There
Mac was a curious kid.
When Miss Mush served chicken fingers, he asked her how many fingers a chicken had on each hand.
After lunch, he played basketball. Besides playing, he was also the self-appointed announcer, describing every shot, every pass, and every dribble.
Jenny finally told him to put a sock in it.
Only then, when he stopped talking, did Mac remember that he’d left his catcher’s mask in the cafeteria. Mac liked to wear his catcher’s mask for all sports, including basketball.
He was a curious kid.
The cafeteria was on the fifteenth floor. Mac found his mask right where he’d left it, but by then, it hardly seemed worth it to go all the way back down to the playground. So he continued on up to the thirtieth story.
And there, just outside his classroom door, was the most curious thing that Mac had ever seen. Next to the wall was some sort of giant closet. It hadn’t been there before lunch.
But that wasn’t what made it curious. The closet was wrapped up in heavy chains, and locked with a giant padlock.
Mac moved closer. Behind the chains, he could see double doors, with a steel bar clamped across them. Several signs were taped to the doors.
“KEEP BACK!”
“DO NOT OPEN DOORS!”
“DANGER!”
“CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT IF YOU SMELL SOMETHING UNUSUAL!”
Mac sniffed, but all he could smell were chicken fingers.
Behind the chains, and the steel bar, each door had its own lock. He could see two keyholes, one red and the other green.
He put on his catcher’s mask, just to be safe, and tried to open one door, then the other. They wouldn’t budge.
He tried to peer through the keyholes, but they were too tiny.
He knocked on one of the doors. It seemed to be made of thick wood. “Anyone in there?” he called.
There was no answer. He knocked again, and then pressed his ear against the side of the closet.
Still nothing.
“What’s that?” asked Deedee, coming up the stairs.
Mac shrugged.
Deedee read the signs aloud. “Keep back. Do not open doors. Danger.”
She tried one of the doors.
“I think it’s locked,” said Mac.
More kids made it up the stairs. Each one stopped at the closet,