The Boy Who Lost His Face

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The Boy Who Lost His Face Page 6

by Louis Sachar


  “Puke! What stinks?” said Randy, holding his nose. “Oh, it’s David!”

  Alvin laughed.

  David tried to ignore them.

  “Why don’t you just go to another school?” asked Randy. “Why do you have to stink up this one?”

  “Lay off him,” said Mo. “He didn’t do anything to you.”

  “He’s the one who stunk up the whole school Friday,” said Alvin. “I can still smell it!”

  “I thought Randy farted,” said Mo.

  David laughed.

  “What are you laughing at?” Randy demanded.

  David stopped laughing.

  “He’s laughing at you, fartface,” said Mo.

  Randy took a step toward Mo, but she held her ground and he backed off. “C’mon, Al,” he said, leading Alvin away.

  “You have to stand up to those assholes,” Mo told David after they were gone.

  “Yeah, well, it’s easier for you,” said David. “You’re a girl.”

  “So?”

  “So Randy wouldn’t hit a girl.”

  “Yeah, right,” said Mo. “He’s such a gentleman.”

  David smiled. He wished he had been the one who had called Randy fartface. What are you laughing at? asks Randy. I’m laughing at you, fartface! It would have been great. Except he knew he could never say anything like that. It wasn’t only that he was afraid of Randy. He just couldn’t imagine those words coming from his mouth.

  At lunch he told Larry about how he had arranged for them to help Mo carry her doghouse home.

  “Did she know who I was?” Larry asked.

  David nodded. “She remembered your blue sunglasses.”

  Larry smiled. “My shades,” he said, tapping his glasses just above the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, they’re cool. So what else did she say? Did she say anything else about me?”

  David repeated his entire conversation with Mo word for word.

  Larry said “Hmmmm …” several times as he listened very carefully.

  David told him about Randy and Alvin and what Mo had said about farting.

  “I told you she was funny,” said Larry. “Besides being pretty, she has a great personality, too.”

  For the rest of the lunch period Larry switched back and forth, one moment very excited about his “date” with Mo, then the next being Joe Cool and acting like it was no big deal. Every once in a while he giggled. Finally, when lunch was almost over, he abruptly declared, “I’m not going.”

  “What?” asked David.

  “You should have asked me first, before just saying that I’d help,” Larry pointed out. “How do you know that I don’t have other plans?”

  “What other plans?”

  “I didn’t say I had other plans. I said I could have had other plans. Maybe I had already promised to carry someone else’s doghouse home.”

  “I figured you’d want to walk home with Mo.”

  “Well, you figured wrong.”

  “What am I going to do now?” asked David. “It’s too big for Mo and me to carry by ourselves.”

  “That’s your problem,” said Larry. “Oh, all right, I’ll help you. But I’m not helping her. I’m helping you.”

  “Okay,” said David.

  “Okay,” said Larry.

  AFTER SPANISH they put their books away, then walked together to the shop room. Mo was sitting on top of a worktable, next to her doghouse.

  “Hi,” said David.

  “Hi,” she said. “Hi, Larry.”

  Larry grunted. He took his hands out of his pockets, rubbed them together, and said, “So where’s this old doghouse?”

  Mo looked at him like he was crazy.

  “It’s right there on the table,” said David.

  “Oh, yeah, right,” said Larry. “Well, let’s get to it.”

  Mo came down off the table. “Maybe you could see better if you took off your dark glasses,” she suggested.

  “Hey, I never take off my shades,” said Larry.

  The heaviest part of the doghouse was the back, since most of the front had been cut out to make a doorway. Larry and David took the back, and Mo, facing forward, held up the front as she led the way. Directly over her head was the word KILLER.

  They just barely fit through the door.

  They were halfway across the schoolyard when the barking started.

  At first it was just Alvin and Randy.

  Alvin had a high-pitched bark that sounded like “Arf-arf! Arf-arf!”

  Randy’s was more like “Grrr—ruff! Grrr—ruff!”

  They were walking backward, barking in Mo’s face.

  David glanced at Larry, who looked back at him. He didn’t know what else to do except hold up his corner of the doghouse and keep walking.

  Roger and Scott joined in.

  Scott howled, “Aaaaaooooooo.”

  Roger said, “Woof, woof, woof!”

  David could hear other kids around them laughing, and some of them barked once or twice too. He wondered if Miss Williams was among them.

  “Hey, David, your pants are unzipped!” shouted Roger.

  There was more laughter.

  He was almost certain they were zipped. Besides, even if they weren’t, they were hidden by the doghouse.

  “Grrr—ruff!”

  “Arf-arf.”

  “Aaaaaooooo …”

  “Woof! Woof!”

  Leslie and Ginger also barked but David thought they sounded more like sick cats.

  “Don’t get too close,” warned Alvin. “She might bite you.”

  David felt the front of the doghouse bang to the ground. He looked around his corner to see Mo chasing Alvin.

  “Mad dog! Mad dog!” Alvin yelled as he easily eluded her.

  David remained by his corner of the doghouse. He didn’t know what else to do.

  Mo tripped and fell in the grass.

  Alvin stood over her barking while his friends laughed.

  Mo picked herself up. “If I’m a dog,” she said, “you know what you are? A bullock!”

  “Ooooh—a bullock!” Alvin said with a laugh. He smiled at his friends. “What’s a bullock?”

  Mo caught her breath. “It’s a bull that’s had its balls cut off.”

  Alvin’s face turned bright red as Mo walked away, back toward the school building.

  For a second David thought she was just going to leave him and Larry standing by her doghouse, but she turned around and headed back to them. She picked up her end of the doghouse and said, “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  He felt bad about not doing anything to help Mo, but what could he have done? Besides, Mo could take care of herself. Her last remark seemed to shut everyone up.

  “Hey!” shouted Scott. “It’s the Three Stooges! Mo, Larry, and Curly!”

  That got everyone laughing again. “The Three Stooges,” someone repeated.

  “They even look like The Three Stooges!” said Roger.

  “Except the real Three Stooges aren’t as ugly,” said Alvin.

  David, Mo, and Larry carried the doghouse away. Roger and his friends didn’t follow. David could hear them laughing about The Three Stooges.

  “Hey, Curly! Zip your fly!” called Scott.

  What rotten luck, thought David. I would have to become friends with kids named Mo and Larry!

  As he thought about it, he realized that Mo did sort of look like Moe from The Three Stooges. He smiled in spite of himself.

  17

  DAVID HEAVED a sigh of relief as they set the doghouse down in Mo’s backyard. He stretched out his stiff, cramped arms.

  Larry looked around nervously.

  “You want something to drink?” Mo offered.

  “Sure,” said David.

  Larry continued to look nervously around him.

  Mo led them to the back door of her house. “You want water or something else?”

  “Water’s fine,” said David.

  “Larry?” asked Mo.

  “Huh?” said Larry.


  “Water?”

  “Okay.”

  Mo reached behind a bush and turned on the hose. She took a drink from it, then handed it to David.

  David took a long drink, then gave it to Larry. Larry’s eyes darted back and forth as he drank.

  “So where’s Killer?” he finally asked.

  “She doesn’t have a dog,” said David.

  Larry relaxed.

  Mo turned off the hose. “I want to get a dog,” she explained, “but so far my parents won’t let me. But once they see this neat doghouse, they have to let me get a dog, right? I mean, what good’s a doghouse without a dog?”

  “Right!” said Larry.

  David was glad there was a logical explanation.

  They walked back over to the doghouse. He and Larry sat on the grass and leaned against it. Mo lay on her back in front of them, looking up at the cloudy sky.

  “Why do they hate me so much?” she asked. “It’s not my fault I’m ugly.”

  David waited for Larry to say something, but Larry kept his mouth closed.

  “You’re not ugly,” David finally said.

  “Yeah, right,” said Mo.

  Again David looked at Larry, but he remained silent behind his blue sunglasses.

  “It’s me they hate,” said David. “I used to be best friends with Scott—since the second grade—but he had to stop liking me in order to become popular. He has to prove to Roger and Randy that he’s not my friend anymore. I guess he has to make up for all the years we were friends by hating me now.”

  “You were friends since the second grade?” asked Larry.

  David nodded.

  “I’ve never been friends with anybody for more than, I don’t know, a couple of months. My family’s always moving all the time. I’ve never even gone to the same school two years in a row.”

  “That must be tough,” said Mo.

  “I’m always the new kid,” said Larry. “When I was little it wasn’t so bad. It’s easy to make friends when you’re a little kid. You just find some other kid and go play. But now it seems like it’s impossible to make new friends.”

  “I’m your friend,” said David.

  Mo laughed. “That’s only because Scott started hating you,” she said.

  “That’s not true,” said David. “I’d be his friend anyway.”

  “What if Scott wanted to be your friend again?” asked Larry. “You’d probably start hating me, too, just so you could be popular like them.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” David insisted. “I wouldn’t want to be one of them.”

  “I would,” said Mo. “I don’t care if Leslie and Ginger are the two biggest pissants in the whole school. I’d trade places with them just like that”—she snapped her fingers—“if I could be pretty like them.”

  David looked at Larry, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “Nobody cares that they’re pissants,” Mo continued. “They’re beautiful. That’s all anyone cares about.”

  “You would never be a pi—like them.” David blushed.

  “I would too!” said Mo. “If I was beautiful I’d be the most revolting pissant this world has ever seen.”

  David laughed.

  “You’re not ugly,” Larry blurted out. “I mean, a lot of people probably think you’re very attractive.”

  Mo made a sound like a horse. “Right,” she said. “My grandmother!”

  “No, really,” said Larry. “In fact, there’s this boy at our school—I can’t say his name—but he told me he thinks you’re beautiful.”

  “He’s probably gay,” said Mo.

  Larry laughed.

  “So what’s your excuse, David?” asked Mo. “Larry’s always moving and I’m ugly. How come you’re one of The Three Stooges?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said David. For a second he wasn’t sure if he should tell them, but then he said very matter-of-factly, “There’s a curse on me.”

  He waited for Larry or Mo to react, but they didn’t.

  “Okay, I don’t know that I’m really cursed,” he said. “But it sure seems that way.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Mo. “Sometimes I think there’s a curse on me, too. It’s like no matter what I do, there’s always something that screws it up.”

  “Yeah, like when I go to a new school,” said Larry. “I try real hard to be friendly and, you know, make a good impression, but something always happens. Like this year. It was my first day here, and some idiot isn’t watching where he’s going and spills his chocolate milk in my lap. How am I supposed to make new friends and be cool and everything when I’ve got chocolate milk all over my pants? Who drinks chocolate milk anymore anyway?”

  “I haven’t had chocolate milk since I was a little kid,” said Mo.

  “That’s what I mean,” said Larry.

  David decided not to try to explain his curse to them. He didn’t think they’d believe him anyway. He didn’t really believe it himself.

  He figured he was probably no different than Larry or Mo or anyone else. Maybe everyone feels cursed.

  “You guys don’t know what a curse really is,” said Mo. “At least you don’t have periods! Now, that’s a curse.”

  David and Larry blushed, then laughed to cover their embarrassment.

  Mo stood up and stretched, obviously proud of herself.

  Larry and David also stood up. “You know, Mo,” said Larry, “if you want your parents to let you have a dog, maybe you should change the name on your doghouse.”

  Mo looked at Larry, then at the doghouse, then back at Larry. She smiled at him.

  18

  THE FOLLOWING morning was cold, gray, and miserable. It wasn’t raining, but there was a heavy mist in the air. Rain would have been an improvement.

  Miss Williams was wearing a shiny black plastic rain jacket. “Good morning, Mr. Ballinger,” she said as David stepped away from his locker. Her green eyes flashed at him.

  “Good morning, Miss Williams,” he gallantly replied, glad that she seemed to like him again, after being so distant yesterday.

  They walked side by side to Mr. MacFarland’s class. Neither said a word, until finally, just before they reached the door, he decided to take a chance. “Delightful weather we’re having.”

  As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. It was so stupid.

  Miss Williams looked up at the gray and gloomy sky. She had a very quirky expression on her face. “Yes, quite,” she answered.

  They entered the classroom and headed to their respective desks.

  Yes, quite, thought David. It was the perfect thing to say.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her all morning, in homeroom, math, and on into recess. He relived their conversation again and again.

  Good morning, Mr. Ballinger. Good morning, Miss Williams. Delightful weather we’re having. Yes, quite.

  Yes, quite. It was perfect. She was perfect. Yes, quite perfect.

  “David,” said Larry.

  “Huh?”

  “Earth to David,” said Mo. “Come in, please. Anybody there?”

  “What?”

  Larry and Mo laughed.

  “He’s probably thinking about his girlfriend,” said Larry.

  “Oooh, does David have a girlfriend?” asked Mo.

  “Well, there’s a girl he likes,” said Larry. “Except he won’t tell me her name.”

  David felt himself redden. He glared at Larry. Didn’t Larry realize how easily he could turn the tables on him? All he’d have to do was tell Mo that Larry was secretly in love with her. Or maybe—it suddenly occurred to him—Larry wanted him to do that.

  “Oh, I bet I know who it is!” declared Mo. “Tori Williams! Am I right?”

  Actually David didn’t know if she was right or not, but he figured she probably was. The last name was right.

  “I’ve seen you and Tori making moon eyes at each other,” said Mo.

  Larry laughed.

  Well, now he knew her name.

>   “At least she’s not a snot,” said Mo. “Although you have to admit she is a little spacey.”

  “Perfect for David,” Larry said with a laugh.

  Tori Williams, thought David as he headed to science. And Mo didn’t just say she saw him making moon eyes at her. She said she saw them making moon eyes at each other. Tori Williams. It was a nice name. Yes, quite.

  He saw Miss Williams, Tori, at lunch. He had just gotten out of shop and was on his way to his locker. She was angling across the grass in his direction. Her arms were wrapped around her books, pressed against her chest. Her red hair hung on both sides of her shoulders.

  She hadn’t seen him yet. He wondered if he should call her Tori. He kind of hoped she wouldn’t notice him. She was nice to him this morning and that was good enough. He didn’t want to press his luck.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Ballinger,” she said.

  “Good afternoon”—he paused—“Miss Williams” He couldn’t call her Tori.

  She remained by his side as he continued to his locker. He glanced at her, and her green eyes flashed back at him. They both smiled. He wondered if this was what Mo would call “making moon eyes.”

  He stopped at this locker. “My locker,” he told her

  She stopped, too.

  He turned the combination: 32 left, 16 right, 22 left. He pulled up on the handle but the locker didn’t open. He tried it again, 32-16-22, but it still didn’t open.

  He smiled sheepishly at Miss Williams. Tori. She shrugged.

  He wondered if it had anything to do with the curse. But how? What did they do to Mrs. Bayfield that had anything to do with a lock or a locker?

  He was about to try again when he realized his mistake. He felt himself blush as he explained, “That was the combination to my gym locker.”

  “I do that sometimes, too,” said Miss Williams. Tori.

  David tried again, this time using the correct combination. The locker still wouldn’t open. “What the …?” he muttered.

  Tori Williams bit her bottom lip and shrugged. She pushed out one side of her face with her tongue.

  He looked back at the locker, then felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the wrong locker. His locker was the next one over. He didn’t dare tell her that. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said, stepping away from the locker. “I’ll have to go talk to the janitor.”

 

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