Concentrate, darn it! Danny scolded himself. Focus on the test and only the test. The boy ran his hands through his hair. True or false, Danny asked himself. Unlike the earth, the moon does not rotate. His heart was still reeling from his little vixen’s love tap.
“Ten minute warning!”
Patti climbed the walls. Tapping her pencil, she eyed Danny to check his progress. But, boy wonder was floating on air. Daydreaming, he arched his back – hands clasped behind his head.
“The fool’s lost in space!” She panicked. “Maybe I overdid it?” The girl bit her nails, waiting for him to recover from her magical spell. “C’mon, Danny,” she muttered. “Down, boy, down!”
Moon does not rotate…does not rotate…does not rotate…
The teacher snuck up from behind, hands cupped to mouth, and blurted, “You won’t find the answers up there, Galileo!”
Everyone jumped in surprise. The gravity of those words zapped Danny back to earth. His chair legs slapped the hard floor, jolting the gears in his head back into operation. Patti watched him as he attacked the remaining questions.
Question 18… Danny’s mind was on vacation. Moon does not rotate? True.
“Good boy, Danny.” Patti was perched, pencil at the ready. “One more trick oughta do it!”
Appearing studious, she slumped over her desk, inching her foot towards Danny’s.
Weeeeeeee! Patti stroked Danny’s ankle, and his heart melted. The hairs of his neck stood on end. Danny shot love darts into her eyes. She smiled, discreetly scrawling the remaining answers.
“Mr. Daniel Ormont! See me after class!” The room exploded into a tempest of ridicule and laughter. “Time’s up!” the teacher announced. “Turn in your test papers; class dismissed.”
Patti collected her books and tapped Danny on the shoulder. “Call me!” she winked, stuffing a note into his hand. “Promise you’ll call me tonight?”
Danny stared at her in disbelief. “I promise, but…” It was too late. Patti spun around and walked away. Chained to his desk, he watched the girl prance out of the classroom – scot-free.
“Ok, let’s have it,” Mr. Foster ordered, once the room has cleared.
“What did I do?” Danny dropped his head, afraid to face his teacher.
“I believe it’s called…cheating? At least, that’s what I’d call it.”
The boy fought back the tears. “I wasn’t cheating.”
“Then, why did I find your eyes on Patti’s paper?”
The lad shuffled his foot, fishing for an explanation. He could not even fabricate an alibi. Nothing could explain his behavior. “I don’t know…”
“Danny, you know this stuff. Why would you cheat?”
“I wasn’t cheating – honest!”
“Just for fun, let’s compare answer sheets, shall we?”
“Hmmm…” Mr. Foster rooted through the stack of papers removing both Patti’s and Danny’s answer sheets. “Ah-ha!” He held them side by side, aligning the numbered problems for quick comparison. “They look identical to me, young man. …And, what’s this?” Mr. Foster was shocked. “You both got Question 18 wrong?”
Danny’s heart fell to his feet. “What was Question 18?”
“Unlike the earth, the moon does not rotate.”
“Why, that’s false!” Danny laughed. “Remember? …I even proved it to the class!”
“Then, why did you put true?”
“I didn’t, I-I-I…” The teacher showed Danny his answer sheet.
“And, Patti got it wrong, too!” Mr. Foster snapped. “This proves you cheated!”
“If you’ll just let me explain…”
“You can’t explain! Obviously, you copied her wrong answer!”
Patti, are ya there? Danny sensed his spirit drifting faraway. His voice rattled in his skull like pennies in a jar. I can’t find you...
“Danny? …Danny, did you hear a single word I said?”
Don’t reply! Me said. Grumps can’t understand my feelings.
“I demand an explanation, or it’ll be that much worse for you.”
Is Mr. Foster like all the rest? Danny stared at the floor.
I am deeply disappointed in you, young man. I depended on you.”
…Danny, help meeeeee!
“And, to think I was just singing your praises to Mrs. Fishbine.”
Keep your dreams alive. Patti needs me. Me cried. Never sell her out.
The apprentice locked eyes with his mentor. “…Mr. Foster?”
“Do you have something you wish to tell me?”
“I can’t lie to you,” Danny sulked. “I-I-I cheated. I admit it.”
Morning Recess:
“What’s with you today?” Andy grilled his sullen friend. “You sure don’t seem like yourself.”
“It’s not my day…”
“I’ll say. Did you think your antics would impress Patti?”
“My antics? Didn’t you see what she was doing?”
“What do you mean? …What was she doing?”
“Never mind.”
“So, what punishment did Mr. Foster give you?”
“He’s going to let my parents decide.”
The two boys sat in silence under a steel gray sky. The wind whistled through the bare branches, mocking the naked oak. Cheers from the kickball field magnified Danny’s depression.
“Smells like snow,” Andy whirled his yo-yo through a battery of tricks in the crisp air. His partner did not respond. The distraught boy rested his chin on the back of the bench, staring blindly at the kickball game. Mr. Foster’s parting words were branded on his brain. The scolding chilled Danny more than the autumn gales. How could I win the admiration of my favorite teacher one moment only to lose it the next?
“How did things turn out so wrong?” Danny broke into a chuckle. “Although…”
“What’s so funny?”
“It wasn’t a total waste.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got Patti’s phone number!”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I just, uh, that is, you see… Aw, heck. She just gave it to me.”
“Well, she sure picked a weird time.”
“I guess the time was right. It’s a sign of better things to come.”
“People always say that, but how can you be so sure?”
“Because I can feel it.”
“Yeah? And, did you ever stop to think it may be a bad sign?”
“Nonsense! Something tells me this is all meant to be.”
“Be careful, Mouse,” Andy cautioned. “Mark Parks might just feel the same way.”
Reading Class:
The afternoon started with Reading, which meant tolerating Mrs. Fishbine. Of course, the children tolerated Mrs. Fishbine like new sailors tolerating sea sickness.
“Quickly class,” the teacher bossed, hands on hips. “Be seated.” The students hustled into the room and took their seats in a systematic fashion.
“If she wore cowboy boots,” Danny muttered, “she could run for sheriff.” Patti smiled in agreement.
“As you know,” the woman began. “Today marks the last day of your punishment.”
Some boys clapped and hooted in approval of the long-awaited news. Mrs. Fishbine peered down her pointed nose in disgust. “I trust we have all learned something from this experience?”
“And, what have you learned, Mrs. Fishbine?”
“Andrew Drewer! Go keep that corner company for the period!”
“…Not much, I see,” the critic groaned, marching to the wall.
“Everyone, sit up!” the teacher demanded. The class sprang to attention. “Now then, where was I? Oh yes...” The students held their breath, fearing the worst. “There is a nasty rumor going around that I am a nice person.” The children snorted in pain, stifling their laughter. “Now, I don’t know how this got started, but I assure you it is not true.” The class did not blink. “Despite this rumor,” Mrs. Fishbine continued.
“I have exciting news to share.” The class groaned.
“Here it comes,” Danny muttered. “The other shoe is about to drop.”
“Traditionally, the sixth grade holds a talent show come the end of the year,” she said.
The children were intrigued. The news melted scowls into smiles. Many applauded with delight. Neighbors chattered, and the classroom was electrified.
“QUIET!!!” Mrs. Fishbine stomped her foot like banging a gavel. A hush tore across the classroom like a riptide racing up the shore. “I’m confident each of you possess a hidden talent. So, I want you all to put forth your best…”
Chipper children drowned her words. All were elated – except for Danny. There he sat, puzzled by the jubilant glow radiating from his classmates. Deep inside, he was absolutely terrified. Talent show? Danny loathed the words. What talent do I have?
“Now, class!” Mrs. Fishbine slapped her desk. “Curb your enthusiasm!” Her words were wasted, but her body language instilled fear. Warbles of conversation dissolved into silence. “Students may perform in small groups if you so desire.”
Across the room, a hand surfaced.
“Yes, Judith?”
“Will there be prizes?”
“Prizes will be awarded for the three best performances.”
A hand flapped furiously before Mrs. Fishbine’s face. “Goodness, Bill—” Mrs. Fishbine snapped. “What is it, William?”
“Who will be the judges?”
“Actually, there will be three judges,” she snarled. “Me, myself, and I.” The class groaned at her words. “Just my little joke,” the woman chuckled.
“Very little…”
Mrs. Fishbine ignored the rude remark without skipping a beat. “Actually, the judges are Mr. Foster, Mrs. Hastings, and myself. Are there any other questions?”
Danny raised a hand. “What if we have no talent?” The modest boy’s confession was attacked by blasts of laughter.
“Don’t be silly, Daniel…”
“Danny! It’s Danny!”
“Cleaning erasers is an excellent talent,” the teacher frowned. “Wouldn’t you agree, Daniel?”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
“Did I not make myself clear? Participation is mandatory.”
The deflated boy collapsed in his seat as if he had been handed a death sentence. He had no idea what kind of act he could pull together. Then, he stared at Patti. She’s taking this all quite calmly. Unfazed, the girl relaxed, hands folded in her lap. Danny berated himself. I bet she’s already cooking up something terrific…
“The success of this talent show rests in your hands,” the teacher warned. Someone emitted a low whistle. “By the way, absolutely no class time will be allotted.”
“But, Mrs. Fishbine…”
“Case closed. Take out your Readers and copy, copy, copy!”
The shuffle of papers rented the air as the girls and boys put pencil to paper for the final installment of their punishment. Danny spied Patti removing a lilac pencil and a sheet of paper from her orchid notebook. …Just as dainty as she is.
Not a whisper was heard. Graphite styluses squeaked and scratched against hard laminate, etching curled paths across blank paper. Danny opened his Reader and began the mundane task of copying the printed word.
“Psst! PSST!!!” Danny did not respond. “Et-ah-hem!” Patti coughed, deliberately clearing her throat. Danny lifted his head and discovered a crumpled ball of paper resting by the corner of his notebook. “Read the note!” she mouthed, pointing to the ball.
“What?”
Patti’s scowled, Could he really be so dense? “Read it!” she mouthed, pointing again.
Danny swiftly swiped the little ball off the table. Burying his hands in his lap, he carefully unfolded the note. “You will call me tonight, won’t you?” the note read in a curly cursive.
“Yes. Here’s my number, too.” Danny squeezed his reply onto the back of the tiny scrap as neatly as he could. He crumpled the note back into a little ball. Danny looked to see what Mrs. Fishbine was doing. Surely, he did not want to tangle with her. The woman sat at her desk engrossed in some reading material. Eying the teacher, Danny tossed the note across the desk. It landed a little short, but still within Patti’s reach.
The girl snatched the note and read it with an expressionless face. Hastily, she scrawled a reply and tossed the note haphazardly back at Danny without any fear of being caught. “That’s not important,” Patti wrote. “Just promise you will call me tonight.”
Not important? Danny’s stomach twisted into knots. Why in the world would she say that?
The boy licked his wounds, relishing in the thought of calling her. He was elated to share these secret notes, and Danny wanted to prolong the correspondence. He tore the corner of his paper and placed it atop his open notebook. He slid his chair in close and slouched over the desk. “I promise I will call you,” he wrote. “Any thoughts for the talent show?”
As before, he crumpled the note and studied Mrs. Fishbine for a spell. When he felt all was safe, he tossed the note in Patti’s direction. But, the ball slipped from his fingers prematurely and hit Patti in the face. Someone giggled at the comical sight.
Did Mrs. Fishbine see me?
Patti scooped the note into her hand the instant the teacher looked to see what was so amusing. Patti shot Danny a dirty look with a piercing stare. Her angry eyes hid the familiar sparkle he so loved. Patti held the note in her lap. The sly girl waited for the teacher to return to her affairs. She scratched a reply and lobbed the note towards her pen pal. Again, more giggles.
The note came to rest in the center of the aisle, fully exposed and beyond Danny’s reach. Desperate, he stretched his body to the extreme without falling out of his seat. He trapped the tiny scrap under his foot, and…
“Sit up, Daniel!”
The boy straightened his posture. Wriggling in his seat, he dragged the message toward him and scooped the note into his lap. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He was chilled by Patti’s callous reply. “But, you have to!” Danny scribbled. Light chuckles filled the classroom as more spectators took interest in the volleyed responses.
“She can’t make me!”
“Be my partner?”
“NO WAY!”
Danny’s stomach squeezed like a vice. The crestfallen boy kicked himself. Had he assumed too much? Danny hoped to smooth things over.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t worry about me!” Patti fired the note directly at him and beaned Danny on the forehead. The spectators roared.
“Daniel Ormont!” Mrs. Fishbine bellowed. “Read that note out loud!”
“I d-d-don’t think so…”
“I don’t care what you think.” Mrs. Fishbine snapped. “Read your love note to the class!”
Woo-hoo! Some boys hooted like a train whistle.
Danny glanced at Patti for support. Aloof, the girl rummaged through her purse.
“Come now, Daniel! The class is waiting!”
Danny arose beside his seat and slowly unfolded the tattered clump of paper. “It says: ‘Fishbine has no spine!’” Danny declared. “Are ya happy now?” The class burst into rounds, chanting this catchy slogan.
“Let me see that!” The woman snatched the slip of paper from his grasp. “It does, indeed.” Mrs. Fishbine seethed. “And, in your handwriting!”
“Whaaat?” Danny did a double take. “Can I see that?”
“Suit yourself,” the teacher said, presenting the note. The boy could not believe his eyes. Indeed, these very words appeared to have been written by Danny. Somehow, in the frantic exchange of notes, Patti had managed to emulate Danny’s printing style.
“I never wrote…I mean… Tell her, Patti!”
The unshaken girl sat there, beaming like the cat who ate the canary. “Tell her what, Mouse?”
“Don’t you dare blame that innocent girl!” Mrs. Fishbine defended. “Go stand in the corner!”
“Be quiet!”
Danny rose, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he lumbered towards Andy’s corner.
“Hold it, Daniel… Not that corner, that corner! The class giggled. “Perhaps a phone call home will prove just as humorous.”
Danny took his post at the near corner, and the class settled down. The boy bided his time, fidgeting from one foot to the other. The instant Mrs. Fishbine faced the blackboard, Danny whipped around and glowered at Patti through watery eyes. She batted her eyelashes at him.
“CALL ME!” she mouthed through her big grin.
* * *
That evening, the atmosphere was volatile at the Ormont dinner table. Danny sensed that even one word from him could spark an explosion so great, only a crater would remain where the house stood. Staring into his bowl, he slurped at his soup as if it were his last meal. He sat with a bowed down head, praying for a quick and painless execution.
“It will all be over in a flash,” Danny muttered. “This is just to fatten me up.”
Silently, his parents partook of the appetizer, as well.
“…quick and painless…” Danny hoped. “Like a lamb to the slaughter.”
“A funny thing happened today, Danny,” Mr. Ormont salted his soup. The boy’s face went pale. “It seems my wonderful son…” his father paused, drawing a taste to his lips. “Has become the most popular boy in school. My son, the ace student!” Danny could barely face his soupy reflection let alone face his parents. “He’s an overnight sensation.” Mr. Ormont tossed his hands in the air. “Seems the teachers can’t say enough!” Danny waited for his father to end his antics. “Suddenly, the phone is ringing off the hook!” The man clenched his chest, shocked.
“Dad, I…”
“So, I figure I must be some great father!” His chest heaved with pride. “I tell Mum they must be calling to praise our son!” For an instant, his father sat in silence as if he were at a loss for words. Danny knew it was the calm before the storm. “First, they say my self-proclaimed, no-talent son is a natural born comedian.”
“Dad, please…”
“Then, the phone rings again!” his father gushed. “How much more praise can I stand?”
“C’mon, stop it, will ya?”
“Next, they inform me how my son’s going to be a great scholar!”
“Daaa-aad!!!”
“Great scholar? Ha! Great cheater!”
“It’s not whatcha think…”
“I want to hear the truth!” Mr. Ormont shook both fists at Danny.
“I am telling you the truth!”
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