by Mac Barnett
“Niles,” said Miles.
“Josh walked right up to Miles and knocked the tray out of his hands,” said Niles. “It was just like Miles said.”
Josh was shocked.
Miles was shocked.
Ms. Shandy smiled. She had been waiting for this day for a long time. (Lots of teachers had.) “Come on, Mr. Barkin. We’re going to see Principal Barkin.” She led Josh out toward the principal’s office. Everyone in the lunchroom watched them leave.
“Why’d you do that?” Miles asked.
“Josh made me swallow a rock over the summer. Twice.”
“Well, thanks,” said Miles.
“Here’s your milks,” said Niles, picking the cartons up off the floor. “They didn’t break.”
Chapter
11
JUDY MURPHY FLOPPED A SLICE of eggplant onto Miles’s plate. He hated eggplant, but tonight he wasn’t even paying attention to food. Miles’s mind was on other matters. Bigger matters. Huge matters.
“How was your day at school?”
“Fine,” Miles told his mother.
“How was your day at school?”
“Terrible,” Principal Barkin told his wife. “Horrendous. Catastrophic. A complete and utter nightmare.”
“I was asking Josh,” said Mrs. Barkin.
“Oh,” said Josh, fiddling with his steak. “Well, pretty much what Dad said.”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Barkin. “What went wrong?”
Principal and Josh Barkin said the same thing at the same time: “Miles Murphy.”
“How’s your homeroom teacher?” Miles’s mother asked.
“Fine,” Miles said, pushing eggplant around his plate.
“Her name is Ms. Shandy, right? What’s she like? Is she nice?”
“She’s fine,” Miles said.
There were too many questions. Miles needed to focus. He was on to something, but his mom wouldn’t stop interrogating him. Luckily, Miles had a trick for times like this.
“How was your day at work, Mom?” Miles asked.
“It was good, Miles, but I’d really like to hear about your—”
“Anything exciting happen?” Miles asked.
“No, nothing particularly exciting happened at work, honey,” Miles’s mother said.
“And what’d you have for lunch, Mom?” Miles asked.
“Lunch? Um . . . just a turkey sandwich and a small salad, dear. Now tell me about this Principal Barkin. I think I noticed him standing out on the lawn when I dropped you off. Did you get a chance to talk to him? Was he nice?”
The last thing Miles wanted to talk about was Principal Barkin.
“What were your customers like, Mom?” Miles asked.
If there was one subject that could set Miles’s mom off, it was her customers. There were always so many of them, and they were always doing so many annoying things. Judy looked out the window and shook her head. Then she looked back at Miles. She sighed.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Miles’s mother said. “Oh! I know! There was this one suit-wearing guy who insisted on cutting to the front of this very long line, and get this—he was on his phone the entire time. Right? So I said, ‘Sir, if you don’t mind, could you please return to your spot in line or maybe just consider taking your call outside?’ And he was staring right at me, but I don’t think he heard a word I said, Miles. In fact, I’m sure of it. So I repeated myself, asked him to return to his spot or go outside, but he just stood there, completely oblivious. So then . . .”
Miles smiled at his eggplant.
“Well, I certainly had an interesting day,” said Mrs. Barkin. “When I was at the market—”
“I wasn’t finished!” said Principal Barkin. “Don’t you want to know how the car got off the stairs? I mean, when I left off, the car was still on the stairs! Aren’t you wondering how Josh and I got home?”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Barkin. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I guess, yes, I do.”
“So first I called a tow truck company and asked them if they could tow me down some stairs.”
“What did they say?”
“I’m getting to that! They said no.”
“Oh dear.”
“Then I called the police and asked if they could send the helicopter over and lift my car off the stairs.”
“What did they say?”
“Hold on, I’m about to tell you! They said no.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“And then, finally, I had a brilliant idea. I called the junkyard, and I asked to talk to the magnet guy, you know, the guy who has that machine with the giant magnet that lifts cars off the ground and moves them all around?”
“Oh, what a fabulous idea, dear! What did he say?”
“He said no.”
“Well, shucks.”
“Let Dad finish, Mom.”
“Sorry.”
“And so, in the end, I just called Bob and asked him if he’d bring the forklift over from the farm and take the car off the stairs.”
“That’s wonderful! Why didn’t you ask him first?”
“Because Bob has a big mouth! But I made him swear that he wouldn’t tell Dad. Barkins’ honor.”
The phone rang, and Mrs. Barkin rose to get it.
“Who is it?” asked Principal Barkin.
“It’s your father,” said Mrs. Barkin. “He says he wants to scold you about the forklift, dear.”
“How did he find out about that?” asked Principal Barkin.
“How did you find out about that?” asked Mrs. Barkin. “He says Bob told him.”
“And that’s how I met Deb, who seems just great,” Miles’s mother said. “I really think we’re going to be good friends. She works at the post office too, one window over from me. She was really helpful. I think we’re going to grab dinner soon. She likes nature walks.”
“That’s good,” Miles said.
“What about you, honey? Did you make any friends at school today?”
“No.”
“No friends? Were there any nice kids? Potential friends?”
“Nope.”
The phone rang.
“Hello. Yes? Yes it is. Oh, thank you. No, really, that’s very kind. Well, you have a nice voice too. Of course, hold on, I’ll get him.”
“Who is it?” Miles asked.
“He says he’s your new friend from school!”
Miles put his forehead on the table.
Principal Barkin put his forehead on the table.
Mrs. Barkin laid the phone down next to his ear.
“. . . COMPLETE AND UTTER DISGRACE. YOU ARE MAKING THE BARKINS A LAUGHINGSTOCK IN THIS COMMUNITY. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WE’VE BEEN PRINCIPALS HERE? THERE ARE FOUR GENERATIONS OF BARKIN PRINCIPALS, AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HAVE HAD THEIR CARS PARKED AT THE TOP OF A STAIRCASE?”
Principal Barkin was silent.
“DO YOU?”
“Zero?” said Principal Barkin.
“THAT’S RIGHT. ZERO. UNTIL TODAY. AND NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM, UNTIL TODAY, HAS HAD THE ENTIRE SCHOOL WALK THROUGH THEIR STUPID CAR TO GET TO CLASS. AND NOW I HAVE BOB TELLING ME HE HAD TO GET HIS FORKLIFT. YOU KNOW, IT MAKES ME THINK THAT MAYBE YOU HAVE A LITTLE TOO MUCH OF YOUR GRANDFATHER JIMMY’S BLOOD RUNNING THROUGH YOU.”
“Now, Father, I have never once canceled school, and—”
“IT MAKES ME THINK THAT MAYBE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE PRINCIPAL AND YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE RUNNING A DAIRY. MAYBE BOB IS THE ONE MADE FROM REAL PRINCIPAL MATERIAL.”
Principal Barkin groaned. “Well, I don’t think that’s true at all.”
“Why not, Barry?” asked Bob Barkin.
“Bob?” said Principal Barkin. “Why are you on this call?”
“I PATCHED YOUR BROTHER IN WITH THREE-WAY CALLING!” shouted Principal Barkin’s dad, Former Principal Barkin.
“Hey, bro,” said Bob. “Sorry I told Dad, but, you know, he asked.”
“So much for Barkins’ honor,
” said Principal Barkin.
“YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT BARKINS’ HONOR?” said Former Principal Barkin. “TODAY YOU HAVE BESMIRCHED THE BARKIN HONOR. THIS IS THE WORST THING TO HAPPEN TO THE BARKIN NAME SINCE YOUR GRANDFATHER JIMMY—WELL, WE WON’T EVEN TALK ABOUT THAT. BUT WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS: YOU HAD BETTER FIND THAT PRANKSTER, BARRY, AND MAKE AN EXAMPLE OF HIM.”
“Yes, Dad,” said Principal Barkin.
“GIVE JOSH AND SHARON MY LOVE.”
Principal Barkin heard his dad hang up.
“How’s your father?” asked Mrs. Barkin.
“I can’t believe that little twerp Bob squealed on me,” said Principal Barkin.
“Still here, Barry,” said Bob Barkin.
Principal Barkin hung up his phone. His face was a deep indigo. “I will destroy Miles Murphy,” he said.
Judy Murphy put the phone next to Miles’s ear.
“Hi, Miles!” said Niles. “It’s me, Niles, your school buddy. From school. The one with the sash. We sat next to each other. All day today.”
“Yeah, and then you followed me home,” said Miles.
“Technically I was walking you home, except you were running, and I can’t run very fast because of my allergies.”
“OK,” said Miles. “Why are you calling?”
“As your buddy I’m required to call you for a First-Day Check-In, which takes the form of a brief five-question survey.”
“They make you call with a survey?”
“Yes!” said Niles. “Well, technically I created the rules for the school buddy program, so I make me call with a survey, but it should be quick and fun! You should be done before dinner.”
“I’m eating dinner.”
“Great! You should be back to dinner in no time!” said Niles. “Ready?”
“Shoot.”
“Hold on a second, I have to put on my sash. You know, official business.” There was rustling on the other end of the line. “All right. Question one. Please answer this: How great was your first day at Yawnee Valley Science and Letters Academy, on a scale of six to ten?”
“Um . . . a six?” Miles said.
“Great! A six! Next question: Do you foresee any school buddies turning into real buddies?”
“Um . . . honestly, I don’t think so . . .”
“We can come back to that one. Question three: Did you park Principal Barkin’s car at the top of the stairs?”
“Bye,” said Miles.
“Wait! We didn’t get to the essay questions!”
“Bye, Niles.”
“Tell your mother I said bye!” said Niles.
Miles hung up the phone. He put his forehead back on the table. He closed his eyes.
For the sixty-seventh time today, Miles wished he’d parked the car at the top of the stairs. And for the seventy-third time, he wondered who did. If he didn’t establish himself as this school’s best prankster, Niles might actually end up being his real buddy.
Miles had to do something. Something big. Something huge.
“May I be excused?” he asked. Miles didn’t even wait for an answer. He went right up to his room, pulled out his pranking notebook, and wrote:
Chapter
12
THE INVITATIONS WENT OUT ten days later.
The hallway buzzed. Clusters of students huddled in corners, chattering. Some were looking over their shoulders. By the drinking fountain, Stuart was doing a little dance.
“Did ANYBODY ELSE get an INVITATION from CODY BURR-TYLER?”
Fourteen different students said “SHH!” at once.
Two girls were giggling near Miles’s locker. He heard the shorter one say, “Yeah, I think he’s the quarterback at St. Perpetua. He plays the electric guitar.”
The taller one said, “Yeah! Cody Burr-Tyler is so cute!”
Miles smirked. Cody Burr-Tyler wasn’t cute. Cody Burr-Tyler didn’t even exist.
This morning was the culmination of more than a week’s worth of planning that had taken up six full pages in Miles Murphy’s pranking notebook. It was Miles’s greatest achievement. Forget a car on some steps—Miles had invented an entire person: Cody Burr-Tyler, who’d be throwing the greatest birthday party Yawnee Valley had ever seen. He’d made up the invitations—only ten, because (and this was the masterstroke) you only needed ten, as long as you made the party a secret. Already kids were inviting one another. The invitations had only been circulating for eleven minutes, and this party was the social event of the season. At the party, Miles would reveal that there was no Cody Burr-Tyler—that the whole school had been pranked. And then (and this was the other masterstroke) he’d leave with all the presents everyone had brought. And everyone at Yawnee Valley Science and Letters Academy would know that Miles Murphy was the greatest prankster the school had ever seen. He’d be a legend again. An even bigger legend than he’d been in his old town. Nobody had ever pranked an entire school before. Miles folded his arms and leaned against the lockers. He pictured the glory. It was perfect.
“Good morning, buddy!”
Miles jumped. He turned around to Niles standing behind him. “Since we’re school buddies and future life buddies, can I tell you a secret that I am not supposed to tell anybody?”
“Sure,” said Miles.
“I mean, this is a big secret. I could get in trouble for telling you.”
“OK,” said Miles.
Niles leaned in close. “I got invited to Cody Burr-Tyler’s birthday party.”
“Who’s Cody Burr-Tyler?” Miles asked.
“He’s only the coolest guy in Yawnee Valley!” said Niles. “He plays football, he’s in a band, ummm . . .” Niles looked down at the invitation. “He likes lightning.”
“Wow,” said Miles. “Sounds cool. Does he go to school here?”
“No. I think he must go to St. Perpetua. Anyway”—Niles looked both ways before continuing in a whisper—“do you want to come to the party with me?”
“I don’t know,” said Miles. “I wasn’t invited.”
“That’s OK! Actually, technically it’s not OK, because the invitation says that we aren’t supposed to tell anyone, but, you know, like I said, sometimes it’s OK to do something wrong if it helps you do something right.”
“How is this doing something right?”
“Becoming party buddies!” said Niles. “Plus you’re new, and it’ll help introduce you to Yawnee Valley’s vibrant social scene! Plus Cody Burr-Tyler gets more presents!”
Miles pretended to think it over.
“I’m in,” he said.
“Great!” said Niles. “Here.”
Niles handed over the invitation. Miles admired his own work.
The warning bell rang. A large reddish figure rounded the corner. Barkin.
“You! Tuck in that shirt!” Barkin yelled. “You! Spit out that gum! You! Stop doing that little dance! All of you! Stop huddling! Why are so many students huddling!”
Miles closed his locker and started down the hallway.
“You! Miles Murphy!”
Miles froze. “Yes, Principal Barkin?”
“Did you move my car to the top of the steps last week?”
Miles sighed.
“No.”
“It would make your life a whole lot easier if you just admitted it now,” said Principal Barkin. “Every day that you wait, the more trouble you—What’s in your hand?”
Miles put the invitation behind his back. “Nothing, Principal Barkin.”
“Well, now I know it’s not nothing!” said Principal Barkin. “In fact, I know it’s something! Something you don’t want me to know about.”
“It’s just a piece of paper,” said Miles.
“I KNOW IT’S A PIECE OF PAPER,” said Principal Barkin. “I saw that right away. But now I know it’s not just a piece of paper. I found that out when I asked you about it and you hid it right away. Yes! It’s an old principal trick, Miles Murphy. Ask about something, and if a student hides that something, it’s because he is up to s
omething.”
“Huh?” said Miles.
“Enough talking,” said Barkin. “Hand it over.”
Miles didn’t move. This wasn’t part of the plan.
“What is it?” said Barkin. “The plans to your next big prank?”
Miles tried to look calm.
“No,” said Miles.
“Principal Barkin,” said Niles, “it’s just a party invitation!”
“A party invitation?” Principal Barkin’s nostrils flared.
Niles put his hand over his mouth and directed a loud whisper toward Miles. “It’s fine. Show it to him.”
Miles had no choice now. He gave up the invitation.
Principal Barkin slowly put on a pair of reading glasses and peered at the paper. “Interesting. Very interesting. Cody Burr-Tyler, eh?” He snapped his gaze back to Miles. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Well, well, well.” Barkin folded the invitation and put it in his shirt pocket. “Well.”
“Well?” said Miles.
Principal Barkin stared at Miles for four whole seconds. Then he pointed to a sign on the wall.
Miles exhaled. He turned, feeling flustered, and walked down the hallway in the wrong direction.
Niles called after him. “No, it’s this way, Miles! We need to go this way!”
Miles turned around and followed Niles toward Room 22.
“Miles!” Principal Barkin shouted after him. “Remember: I’m on to you.”
Barkin pointed at another sign on the wall. This sign hadn’t been there yesterday.
Chapter
13
IT WAS INCREDIBLE. Miles didn’t know the exact number of students at Yawnee Valley Science and Letters Academy, but he had a pretty good feeling that every single one of them was here for Cody Burr-Tyler’s birthday party. The town square was packed with kids.
Two hours earlier, the place had been empty. Miles had arrived at 11:00 A.M., pulling a wagon behind him. He’d parked the wagon next to a picnic table next to the gazebo. On the table he’d taped a sign that said FOOD AND DRINKS HERE. Then he’d taped another piece of paper to the wagon: GIFTS HERE. Finally, he lifted the finishing touch from the wagon: a cake he’d made himself, from scratch, with pink frosting and HAPPY BIRTHDAY CODY BURR-TYLER written in fancy green lettering. (If Miles was going to prank everyone, it was only right to provide good cake.) Then Miles had left—he didn’t want to be the first one at Cody Burr-Tyler’s party. That definitely wouldn’t be cool.