The Heinie Prize

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The Heinie Prize Page 4

by R. L. Stine


  Belzer stared at me. “Huh?”

  “Listen to me,” I said. I gripped his chin and held his face pointed at me. It’s the only way to keep his attention.

  “Mrs. Heinie takes a walk around campus every night,” I told him. “She’s going to pass this bridge in exactly twelve-and-a-half minutes.”

  Belzer raised a hand to check his watch. But he wasn’t wearing a watch. He studied his wrist.

  I gripped him by the chin again. “Are you listening? Here’s the plan. I’m going to pretend to fall off this bridge. I fall into the pond. I thrash around. I’m drowning. You jump in. You pull me out.”

  “I do?” Belzer said. He couldn’t talk too well. I was gripping his chin too hard.

  “Mrs. Heinie sees you save my life,” I said, “and you’re a hero. She has to give you the Heinie Prize.”

  Belzer pulled his chin free. “But, Bernie,” he said, “the pond is two feet deep.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “She’ll see me in trouble down there. I’ll be flapping around, screaming for help. You’ll be a hero, Belzer. You’ll be outstanding!”

  Belzer shook his head. “I…can’t do it, Big B.”

  “Excuse me? Why not?”

  “I’m afraid of water,” Belzer said.

  “It’s only two feet deep,” I said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Belzer replied. “Really. Holding a glass of water makes me seasick!”

  I checked my watch. There wasn’t time to argue. Mrs. H. would be at the bridge in exactly ten-and-three-quarter minutes.

  “Belzer, you don’t want to leave Rotten School, do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then you’ve got to be outstanding. You’ve got to save my life.”

  He lowered his head. “I…I just can’t, Bernie,” he said.

  Suddenly, I had an idea. “Wait right here,” I said. “Can you do that?”

  “If I don’t look down at the water,” Belzer said.

  “Don’t move,” I ordered. “I’ll be right back.

  I raced to the dorm. I knew what I had to do to make Belzer a hero.

  A few minutes later, I came running back to the little bridge. What was I carrying? Two of Belzer’s precious bowling balls.

  Did you forget that Bernie B. is a genius?

  I saw Mrs. Heinie walking toward the pond. Right on time. I raced onto the bridge. I raised the bowling balls high so that Belzer could see them. And then I JUMPED into the water.

  The bowling balls and I made a loud splash.

  I heard Mrs. Heinie gasp.

  She saw me go in.

  And then I heard Belzer’s horrified scream: “No!

  No! Not my beautiful bowling balls!”

  And he dove in after them.

  Chapter 18

  BELZER THE HERO

  A few seconds later I was sprawled on my back on the grass. Belzer stood next to me, wiping the two bowling balls dry with his T-shirt.

  I spit some water from my mouth and grinned up at Mrs. Heinie. “Did you see that?” I said.

  “I saw it, but I don’t believe it,” Mrs. H. replied.

  “I was taking the bowling balls to the wood shop to polish them,” I explained. “I lost my balance and fell into the pond.”

  I raised my head and pointed to Belzer. “Did you see how that HERO dove into the water? He pulled me out and saved my life.”

  Mrs. Heinie frowned at me. “It looked to me like YOU had to pull Belzer out.”

  I jumped up and swiped off her eyeglasses. “Have you checked these lately? They look kinda weak to me.”

  I handed them back to her. “Belzer was a superhero!” I said. “I…I was going under for the third time! He saved my life.”

  Mrs. H. squinted at Belzer for the longest time. “He’s a hero? Are you sure?”

  Belzer burped up some pond water.

  “An outstanding citizen if I ever saw one!” I said.

  “Hmmmm,” Mrs. Heinie replied. “Hmmmmm.”

  What’s the next chapter in this suspenseful drama? It’s the Award Ceremony.

  Did I do it? Did I rescue my slave—er, I mean, my friend? Did I turn Belzer into a winner?

  The suspense is killing me….

  Chapter 19

  A SURPRISE WINNER

  Every fourth grader at Rotten School trooped into the gym for the big Award Ceremony. Mrs. Heinie stood under the scoreboard with Headmaster Upchuck at her side. We all sat down on the floor, facing them.

  The Headmaster is very short. He came up to Mrs. Heinie’s knees.

  She lifted him onto a box so that he could speak into the microphone. “Is this on?” he asked. His voice boomed over the gym, echoing off the tile walls.

  Feenman, Crench, and I squeezed up near the front. We all had our fingers crossed.

  Was I nervous? Does a monkey have bad breath? Of course I was nervous. I’d slaved long and hard for this moment.

  “Feenman, wake Belzer up,” I said. “This could be his big moment.”

  Feenman grabbed Belzer’s shoulders and shook him awake.

  “Is this on?” Headmaster Upchuck repeated. He tapped the microphone several times. It sounded like drumbeats echoing over the gym. Lots of kids held their ears.

  Sherman Oaks dropped down beside me. He had a grin on his face. He pushed a silver trophy toward me.

  “What’s that? The Dork of the Month Award?” I asked. “Why don’t you give someone else a chance to win that?”

  “It’s my own personal trophy,” Sherman said. “For ‘Best Handwriting.’ My parents sent it to me because they still believe I’m outstanding. It’s solid silver. It cost two thousand dollars.”

  I studied it. I read the name engraved in big letters on the side: HERMAN.

  “They misspelled your name,” I said.

  “We’re not a close family,” Sherman replied.

  “Is this on?” Headmaster Upchuck asked again.

  “YESSSSS!” everyone screamed.

  “You’re all Rotten students,” he announced. “But only one fourth grader can be outstanding enough to win the Heinie Prize. Mrs. Heinie has picked the winner. The rest of you are all losers. But I mean that in the nicest way.”

  He climbed down off the box and backed away.

  Mrs. Heinie stepped up to the microphone and cleared her throat several times. “I give this prize every year to the Most Outstanding Student and Most Outstanding Citizen,” she said.

  I felt my throat tighten. My hands were sweating. My heart was pounding. This was the big moment I’d been waiting for.

  “Feenman, wake up Belzer again,” I said.

  He shook Belzer awake.

  “This year,” Mrs. Heinie continued, “the fourth grade class was truly rotten in every way. I thought about not giving any prize at all. But I guess I have to. So…the winner is…”

  I held my breath. I shut my eyes.

  “BELZER!” Mrs. Heinie announced.

  Huh? Did she really say Belzer?

  Yes!

  All us Rotten House guys jumped to our feet. We clapped and shouted and pumped our fists in the air. We slapped high fives and low fives and did the secret Rotten House Handshake.

  Then I shoved Belzer to the front of the gym.

  “Congratulations, Belzer,” Mrs. Heinie said, shaking his hand. “Now that you’re standing in front of the whole school, would you like to tell us your first name?”

  Belzer blinked at her. “I don’t know it,” he said. “My parents never told it to me.”

  “Well, congratulations, anyway,” she said. She turned to the Headmaster. “Mr. Upchuck, would you like to shake Belzer’s hand?”

  “No thanks,” he replied.

  Mrs. Heinie handed Belzer a big, silver trophy. She placed a silver crown on his head. “You are now King of the Campus!” she announced. She shook his hand again.

  “Uh…thanks,” Belzer said. A terrific thank-you speech.

  Kids gave one last cheer. Then they stood up
and started to walk out of the gym.

  I hurried over to the newly crowned king and slapped him on the back. “We did it!” I cried. “All my hard work and slaving for you paid off big-time. You don’t have to thank me, Belzer. I know I deserve it. But I don’t want your thanks. I’m just happy to see that outstanding smile on your face!”

  Belzer straightened his crown. Then he gave me a shove toward the door. “Bernie, go get me a root beer,” he said.

  Uh-oh.

  Chapter 20

  THE KING SPEAKS

  Feenman, Crench, and I hurried back to Rotten House. We were feeling good. We saw Sherman trying to show off his loser trophy to April-May June and some other girls. But they weren’t interested.

  Belzer was king, thanks to Bernie B.

  “How do I do it, dudes?” I asked my friends. We slapped knuckles again. “How do I do it?”

  “Pure genius?” Feenman asked.

  I nodded. “You got that right!”

  “Now Belzer won’t have to leave school,” Crench said. “He can go back to waiting on you hand and foot.”

  “You got that right!” I said again.

  We marched into our little room. I picked up the letter from Belzer’s parents. “Say good-bye to this!” I said.

  I raised the letter high. I started to rip it in two and throw it away. But I stopped.

  “Whoa, dudes!”

  I stared at the handwriting.

  The beautiful, perfect handwriting.

  “Where did I see this?” I asked my friends. “I just saw this handwriting somewhere.”

  And then I let out a hoarse cry. “It’s SHERMAN’S!” I screamed. “SHERMAN wrote the letter! Belzer’s parents DIDN’T WRITE IT!”

  I took several deep breaths. I wanted to scream and scream. But Bernie B. never loses control.

  A trick. A vicious prank. The letter was a fake—an evil prank that ruined my life for days!

  Feenman studied the letter. “Sherman got you good this time,” he said. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I have to think about it when I’m calmer. I—”

  Belzer burst into the room, wearing his crown. He pushed a white shirt into my face. “Bernie,” he said, “this shirt you washed for me. Look at it. You didn’t get the stain out. Go wash it again.”

  I shoved it away. “Huh? Remember, Belzer? You burped up potato salad all down the front? That stain won’t come out.”

  He pushed the shirt back in my face.

  “Try again,” he said.

  I tossed the shirt on the floor. “Forget the shirt,” I said. “It’s time to move my stuff back into my room.”

  Belzer stared at me. “You’re joking, right?” he sneered. “It’s my room now, Bernie. The King of the Campus doesn’t share a room. That’s the king’s room. So stay out!”

  The king stomped into his room.

  The three of us whimpered in shock. “Who was that?”

  We didn’t have time to think about it. A few seconds later, Belzer drop-kicked my fat bulldog, Gassy, into our room. “Keep that stink bomb away from the king!” he shouted.

  “But…but…,” I sputtered. “Belzer, it’s time for you to take him for his four o’clock walk.”

  “I don’t walk animals,” Belzer said, his fat nose in the air. “I have to stay in my room and think outstanding thoughts.”

  He slammed the door in my face.

  I turned to Feenman and Crench. “He’ll get over it,” I said. “In a few hours he’ll remember he’s an idiot.”

  They both shook their heads. Crench put his hand on my shoulder. “Bernie,” he said softly, “you’ve created a MONSTER!”

  Chapter 21

  THE MONSTER STRIKES!

  Crench never spoke truer words.

  The next morning I was talking to April-May June on our way to class. April-May is my girlfriend, only she doesn’t know it yet. In fact, she barely speaks to me.

  “April-May, would you like to watch the eclipse of the moon with me tonight?” I asked.

  She stared at me with those stunning blue eyes. “There is no eclipse tonight,” she said.

  “I know,” I said. “But we could wait for one.”

  Suddenly, Belzer appeared. He tugged April-May away. “The king doesn’t want you talking to his girlfriend,” he barked.

  I laughed. “Excuse me? Girlfriend? You’re joking, right?”

  April-May shrugged. “Well, face it, Bernie. Belzer is the most outstanding kid on campus.” She walked off arm in arm with him.

  I couldn’t believe it. April-May and Belzer?

  I followed them across the lawn. We came to Wes Updood. He was sitting under a tree, practicing his saxophone.

  Belzer stuck his fist in the sax’s horn. “Do you have a permit?” he asked Wes. “You need a music permit from the King of the Campus if you want to play outdoors.”

  Wes couldn’t believe it. He had to give Belzer five dollars for a music permit.

  Belzer shoved the money into his pocket. “If you see any other musicians,” he said to Wes, “tell ’em to pay up. If you wanna swing, you pay the king!”

  I couldn’t stand it. I ran to find Feenman and Crench.

  “Where were you guys?” I asked. “I couldn’t find you this morning.”

  Crench shook his head. “We had to go see Headmaster Upchuck,” he said. “We didn’t make our beds this morning. And Belzer snitched on us.”

  “Belzer says all dorm rules must be followed,” Feenman told me. “He says the king must enforce every single rule.”

  I slapped my forehead. “What am I going to do? King Belzer is out of control!”

  Across the lawn, I saw Sherman Oaks standing next to a pile of trash. I ran over to him. “How could you write that phony letter?” I asked angrily. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “It was a joke,” Sherman said. “I was just trying to shake things up.”

  “Well, you shook things up,” I snarled.

  Sherman sighed. “Tell me about it. In the Dining Hall last night, Belzer grabbed the last slice of pizza off my tray. He said the king gets all the pizza he wants.”

  “Nice,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “After dinner Belzer climbed on my three-thousand-dollar bike,” Sherman moaned. “You know. The one with the gold handlebars. And he rode away.”

  “But Belzer doesn’t know how to ride a bike,” I said.

  “Tell me about it,” Sherman said again. “See that heap of trash over there? That’s my bike!”

  I stared at the twisted, mangled mess. “He totaled it,” I muttered.

  “Everyone hates Belzer now,”

  Sherman said. “He snitches on kids. And he makes them buy five-dollar permits for just about everything. I had to buy a comb permit to comb my perfect, blond hair this morning.”

  “We have to stop him,” I said.

  Sherman stared at me. “How?”

  “You and I have to w-w-w-w…” I couldn’t get the words out. Too painful. I couldn’t say them.

  I took a deep breath and started again.

  “We have to w-w-w…we have to WORK TOGETHER!”

  Chapter 22

  A PALACE FOR THE KING

  Sherman and I walked back and forth across the Great Lawn, hatching a plan. It was a nasty, evil plan. But we both agreed that Belzer deserved it.

  That afternoon Belzer returned to Rotten House to find his room cleaned out. Totally empty.

  “Hey—!” He scratched his red hair. “Bernie, I told you—this is the king’s room now. Bring back my stuff.”

  “Not my idea,” I said. “Sherman cleaned out your room.”

  “Huh? Sherman? Why?” He scratched his hair more.

  Sherman appeared, just as we’d planned. “The king can’t live in a shabby pit like Rotten House,” he told Belzer. “All this dirt and dust and clutter? Guys playing tackle football in the hall? Loud music?”

  Sherman put his arm around Belzer’s shou
lders. “Come with me, King Belzer. You have to room at Nyce House, where it’s clean and quiet. And you can live like a king!”

  Belzer took one last glance at his room. “You’re right,” he said. “This place is a pit. I don’t belong here.”

  Sherman grinned at him. “You and I are going to be good buddies. I know how to treat a king the way he deserves!”

  As he led Belzer away, Sherman turned and flashed me a thumbs-up.

  So far, so good.

  Chapter 23

  KING BELZER SUFFERS

  The next morning I crept out of Rotten House at dawn. I never get up before the sun. The darkness makes my skin itch. But I knew today it was going to be worth it.

  I sneaked across the silent, empty campus to the back of Nyce House and climbed in through an open window. I knew where to find Belzer. In the Commons Room, with Sherman and a bunch of other guys.

  I moved silently down the hall. Yes! There they were. Sherman had the list in his hand. The list of activities we had dreamed up for King Belzer.

  I hunched down in the doorway and watched.

  Activity One: Exercise Workout at Dawn. Poor Belzer. He started to sweat after one deep knee bend. Sherman worked him hard. Push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, and things I don’t know the names of. Painful. Painful.

  After about ten minutes, Belzer flopped around on the floor, going urk urk like a seal. Three guys had to carry him into the meeting room.

  Activity Two: Quizzing One Another on Topics from the Newspaper. I had to giggle. King Belzer didn’t know anything. “Let’s discuss our leader’s speech last night,” Sherman said.

  Belzer stared at him. “Our leader? You mean SpongeBob?”

  “SpongeBob isn’t our leader,” Joe Sweety told Belzer. “SpongeBob isn’t real.”

  Belzer’s mouth dropped open. “He isn’t?”

  The guys kept on asking him questions about the news. Belzer pretended to have a coughing fit.

 

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