by Louis Sachar
“Yes, all people are mammals,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“But my father doesn’t have any hair,” said Bebe. “He’s bald!”
Everybody laughed.
Benjamin stared down at his desk top. He was very determined. Mrs Jewls would be handing out report cards at the end of the week. He had to tell her his real name before then.
He raised his hand.
But Mac also had his hand raised.
“Yes, Mac,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“I heard about a man who was getting his hair cut,” said Mac. “And the barber cut off one of the man’s ears! See, the man had very long hair. I think he was a hippie. So the barber couldn’t see his ear until it fell on the floor.”
“Thank you, Mac,” said Mrs. Jewls. “That was a very interesting story.”
“I’m not finished,” said Mac. “When the barber saw the ear on the floor, he said, ‘Is that your ear on the floor?’ And then the hippie said ‘What? I can’t hear you.’ So the barber showed him his ear; then he called an ambulance to take the hippie to the hospital.”
“Were they able to put his ear back on?” asked Todd.
“Well, see,” said Mac, “the doctors were all set to sew it to his head. They were in the operating room and everything. But suddenly they couldn’t find the ear. Man, they looked everywhere for it!”
“Did they look under the operating table?” asked Joy.
“Yep,” said Mac. “It wasn’t there.”
“How about in the bathroom?” asked Eric Bacon. “Maybe they lost it when they washed their hands.”
“They looked, but it wasn’t there,” said Mac.
“Did they leave it at the barber shop?” asked Jenny.
“Nope.”
“Did they ever find it?” asked Allison.
“Yes,” said Mac, “but you’ll never guess where!”
“In the refrigerator,” grumbled Mrs. Jewls.
“No, how would it get there?” asked Mac.
“Well, we really need to get back to mammals,” said Mrs. Jewls. “Yes, Mark.”
Benjamin lowered his hand. “My name’s not Mark,” he said. “My name really is Benjamin. Benjamin Nushmutt! And I came from Hempleton, not Magadonia.”
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“Fine,” said Mrs. Jewls. “But we were talking about mammals. Now the whale is the largest mammal. Even though it lives in the ocean, it is still a mammal, not a fish.”
“Do whales have hair?” asked John.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Dana laughed. “A whale with pigtails!” she exclaimed.
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“Boy, I’d love to pull one of those!” said Paul.
Benjamin couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” he asked.
“Yes, Benjamin,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“Well, don’t you think I’m strange?” asked Benjamin. “All this time you’ve been calling me by the wrong name, and I never told you? Don’t you think I’m crazy?”
“No,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Benjamin was getting upset. “Well, don’t you think it’s a stupid name? Benjamin Nush-mutt!” He looked around at his classmates. “Doesn’t anybody think I’m weird?”
“No, you’re not weird!” said Sharie. “I’ll tell you what’s weird. What’s weird is bringing a hobo to school for show-and-tell. I’m the one who’s weird.”
“That’s not weird!” said Bebe. “What’s weird is telling everyone you have a brother when you don’t. I’m the weirdo!”
“You call that weird?” exclaimed Stephen. “I’m weird. Who else would choke himself just to look nice?”
“That’s not weird,” said Jenny. “That’s normal. Try reading a story backward. That’s weird. I’m the weird one in this class.”
“That’s a laugh!” said Rondi. “If you’re so weird, then how come you never asked Louis to kick you in the teeth? I’m the one who’s crazy!”
“No, that’s not crazy,” said Todd. “I’ll tell you what’s crazy. What’s crazy is that we all go to school on the thirtieth floor, and the bathrooms are way down on the first!”
Everyone agreed with that, even Mrs. Jewls.
Benjamin shook his head. What a bunch of weirdos! he thought. Then he smiled. He felt proud to be in a class where nobody was strange because nobody was normal.
“Oh, this must be your lunch,” said Mrs. Jewls. She gave Benjamin the white paper sack that had been sitting on her desk since Benjamin’s first day of school.
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At lunch Allison headed down the stairs. “Mark!” she exclaimed.
“Hi, Allison,” said Mark Miller. “Long time no see.” He carried a white paper sack just like Benjamin’s.
Allison was afraid she was back on the nineteenth story.
“Don’t worry,” said Mark. “Suddenly everyone realized my name was Mark Miller and not Benjamin Nushmutt. And then Miss Zarves gave me this bag and told me to take it to the hospital.”
“Is it your lunch?” asked Allison.
“Look inside,” said Mark. He handed her the bag.
Allison looked inside.
There was an ear.
Allison’s eyes lit up. “Oh, now I get it!” she exclaimed. “I understand everything! There is no Miss Zarves! See, Mac was talking about the ear, then Mark Miller, I mean Benjamin Nushmutt, said his name wasn’t Mark Miller, so that means you—”
“What?” asked Mark.
Allison suddenly looked very confused. “Never mind,” she mumbled.
For just a second Allison had understood everything, but then she lost it.
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Chapter 30
Wayside School Is Falling Down
A strong wind whooshed around the playground in the early morning before school, blowing dirt and leaves in the faces of the children.
When the bell rang, they could hardly make it from the playground to the school. The wind was blowing directly at them, pushing their hair straight back.
With every gust of wind the school building teetered one way, then tottered back the other.
As they headed up the stairs, they could feel the building sway back and forth. The higher they got, the more it swayed.
“Hooray!” yelled Kathy. “Wayside School is falling down!”
“What are you so happy about?” asked Joe. “We’ll all die.”
“Yes, but we won’t have to do our homework,” said Kathy.
They entered the room on the thirtieth story.
Mrs. Jewls rang her cowbell. “Find your seats,” she said.
That wasn’t easy. All the desks were crammed together on one side of the room. The building swayed, and the desks slid to the other side of the room.
Finally the children all found their seats and planted their feet firmly on the floor.
“We are going to have a fire drill today,” Mrs. Jewls told them. “So let’s be prepared. Who is our door monitor this week?”
“I am,” said Maurecia.
“Good,” said Mrs. Jewls. “Who is our help monitor?”
“I am,” said Jason.
“Very good,” said Mrs. Jewls. “You have a big mouth.”
Stephen raised his hand. “What if there really is a fire?” he asked.
“There’s not going to be a real fire,” said Mrs. Jewls. “It’s just a drill.”
“I know, but what if there really is a fire?” asked Stephen. “And then the firemen won’t come because they’ll think it’s a drill! The school will burn down!”
“Don’t worry,” said Kathy. “The school is not going to burn down. It’s going to fall down!”
BLEE
P! BLEEP! BLEEP! … BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! … BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP!
It was the fire drill.
Maurecia, the door monitor, held open the door.
Jason, the help monitor, ran to the window. “Help!” he screamed. “Save us! We’re up here. Help! Help!”
Mrs. Jewls led the children out of the room. If there was a real fire, the children might not be able to see her because of the smoke, so she constantly rang her cowbell. There wouldn’t be time to go all the way down the stairs, either. Mrs. Jewls led them up the ladder and through the trapdoor to the roof. If there was a real fire, helicopters would rescue them.
The wind was even worse on the roof than it was on the playground. Mrs. Jewls stood in the center and held the cowbell high above her head. She looked just like the Statue of Liberty.
“Everyone stay away from the edge!” she warned.
Kathy sang: “Wayside School is falling down, falling down …”
“It’s not falling down,” said Stephen. “It’s burning down! And no one will rescue us because they think it’s a drill.”
Jenny noticed a dark, funnel-shaped cloud off in the distance. “Tornado!” she screamed. “We’re all going to get sucked off the roof!”
A flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder.
“We’re going to be struck by lightning!” shouted Todd.
“No we won’t,” said Stephen. “We’ll burn in the fire.”
“No, we’ll be sucked up in the tornado,” said Jenny.
“No, the school is going to fall down,” said Kathy.
Mrs. Jewls continued to ring her cowbell. Klabonk! Klabonk! Klabonk! The strong wind carried the sound for miles.
Suddenly, screams came from down below. Then the whole building began to shake violently.
“Earthquake!” yelled Benjamin.
“Fire,” corrected Stephen.
“The school must have been struck by lightning,” said Todd.
“Tornado,” said Jenny.
“All fall down,” said Kathy.
The building continued to rumble and shake. There were more screams.
“Listen!” said Myron. “They’re trying to warn us about something.”
Down below, over five hundred kids and teachers were shouting together: “STAR BRINGING PURPLE!”
“What are they saying?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
“I don’t know,” said Myron.
Mrs. Jewls rattled her cowbell.
“STAR BRINGING PURPLE!” they shouted again.
“It sounds like ‘Star bringing purple,’” said Myron.
“What does that mean?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
Myron shrugged.
Mrs. Jewls rang her bell even louder.
“STAR BRINGING YORBEL!”
“Wait,” said Myron. “They’re not saying, ‘Star bringing purple.’ They’re saying, ‘Star bringing yorbel.’”
“What’s a yorbel?” asked Mrs. Jewls. She rang her bell even louder.
The school shook and rumbled.
“STOP BRINGING YORBEL!”
“Stop something,” said Myron.
Mrs. Jewls rang her cowbell.
“STOP RINGING YOUR BELL!”
“Stop ringing your bell,” said Myron.
“Oh,” said Mrs. Jewls. She stopped ringing her bell.
Down below, all the students and teachers clapped their hands.
But it was too late.
Rondi opened the trapdoor. “Cows!” she exclaimed.
The school was filled with cows.
From all over the countryside, cows had heard Mrs. Jewls’s cowbell and heeded the call. There were thousands of them. They filled the stairs and all the classrooms.
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There was no way for the children to get down. Helicopters finally came and took them one at a time off the roof.
Wayside School didn’t blow down. It didn’t burn down. It wasn’t struck by lightning, sucked up in a tornado, or destroyed by an earthquake.
It was cowed.
No one knew how to get rid of the cows. Cows are strange animals. They don’t mind walking upstairs, but nothing can make them walk downstairs.
Someone suggested starving the cows, but the farmers wouldn’t allow that. Thousands of bales of hay were sent in. Several cows had calves.
The newspapers thought it was funny and made jokes about smart cows learning to read and write.
And so Wayside School was closed. The kids and teachers were temporarily sent to different schools.
Only one person stayed behind. He was there all day and all night trying to get the cows to go home.
“C’mon,” pleaded Louis, the yard teacher, as he pushed and pulled on the cows. “Go home. Please? Pretty please?”
Everybody mooed.
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Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Berlin, New York and Sydney
First published in Great Britain in 2004 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY
Text copyright © Louis Sachar 1978
Illustrations copyright © Peter Allen 2004
This electronic edition published in October 2010 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
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A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 4088 1248 8
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