by Bill Harley
“Because you said last year if I ever threw my shoe in school again, you would keep me in from recess for the rest of my life.”
And then Mrs. Burke laughed. She laughed out loud. She put her arm around me again and hugged me.
“That was a joke,” she said.
“It sure didn’t seem like it,” I said. “You sounded serious.”
She shook her head. “Charlie, I have something to tell you about myself. I have a very dry sense of humor and I can be very sarcastic.”
I knew what that word meant. It means saying things you don’t really mean in order to be funny. My dad can be sarcastic. He acts like he’s serious, and it’s funny if you know he’s kidding. But you have to know him well enough to know that he’s kidding.
I guess it was the same with Mrs. Burke.
Suddenly everything made a lot more sense. All her talk about her class being a prison and calling the superintendent and burying me like a mummy. It was all supposed to be funny!
“My dad’s like that,” I said. “And so’s my brother Matt.”
“Good. Well, then you understand. I try to be careful so people will know I’m kidding, but sometimes I’m not careful enough, and they don’t realize I’m joking.”
“Okay,” I said. I knew right then I was going to get along a lot better with Mrs. Burke. I wondered how my dad was doing with Mr. Grimaldi.
“Are you ready to go back in?” she asked.
“Yep.” But then I realized I still had one more question. “Mrs. Burke, how do you make your fingers explode like that?”
“Explode?”
“Yeah, when you snap them.”
“You mean like this?” she said. Then she snapped her fingers. POW!
“Yeah,” I said. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
Mrs. Burke smiled like she was remembering something. “I learned it from my mom. She was a teacher, too.”
“It seems pretty handy,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. “It is.”
We headed back to the classroom. As we walked down the hallway, she put her hand on my shoulder. Maybe, I thought, it wasn’t so weird that she was voted Teacher of the Year. I might have even voted for her if I’d had the chance.
When we walked in the room, everybody was staring at us. I sat down at my desk. Hector looked at me.
“Hi, Hector,” I said.
“Hi, Charlie,” he said.
“Hey, Hector,” I said. “Cool shoes.”
He grinned. “So are yours.”
Samantha Grunsky raised her hand.
“Yes, Samantha,” Mrs. Burke said.
“What’s going to happen to Charlie?”
Mrs. Burke looked at Samantha. Then she said, “Well, really, class, it’s nobody’s business what’s going to happen to Charlie, but I might as well tell you the horrible truth. I suspect the police will be coming to my empire soon to put him in prison for throwing his sneaker on the roof.”
She said it with a completely straight face. The class gasped. No one could believe it. Everybody started talking.
POW! POW! POW! Exploding fingers.
Everyone got quiet. Mrs. Burke looked at me. She raised her eyebrow, and the corner of her mouth turned up just a little.
I gave her a little nod, but I didn’t give away our secret.
My best friend Tommy wasn’t in my class. Samantha Grunsky was. That was too bad.
But I had my new friend Hector.
And I had Mrs. Burke for a teacher.
And that was pretty good.
Look for the second book in the Charlie Bumpers series!
Turn the page for a sneak peek …
1
A Big Part
“Are your desks cleared?” Mrs. Burke asked.
“Yes,” everyone answered.
“Charlie,” Mrs. Burke said. “What’s that on the floor?”
I looked down. Somehow my math sheet had fallen on the floor. There was a sneaker mark on it. I picked it up and stuffed it in my desk. Mrs. Burke frowned and shook her head. “Okay, all of you thespians,” she said. “Please listen carefully.”
“What’s a thespian?” I blurted out.
“Charlie, have you forgotten Rule Number Four of Mrs. Burke’s Empire?” Mrs. Burke asked.
“Raise your hand,” Samantha Grunsky said, sitting behind me.
I needed to know. I raised my hand.
So did Samantha Grunsky.
“I know what a thespian is,” Samantha said.
That figures. Samantha Grunsky knows everything. Even stuff you don’t need to know.
“Yes, Samantha?” said Mrs. Burke.
“It’s an actor,” Samantha said. I looked back at her and she gave me one of her I-know-everything looks.
“That’s correct,” Mrs. Burke said, “and today I want to talk about our play.”
I squirmed in my seat. It was hard to sit still. Maybe she was going to tell us what our parts were in the play. I already knew the part I wanted.
Every year, each fourth grade class does a special project. Mrs. L’s class designs an obstacle course for the whole school to run through. Ms. Lewis’s class was making a special lunch with food from all around the world.
But Mrs. Burke’s project is the best. Mrs. Burke’s fourth-grade class presents a play. Everyone comes to see it. Even the parents. There are lights and costumes and props and everything.
My brother Matt gave me a hard time about the play when he found out I was going to be in Mrs. Burke’s class. He said I’d probably have to be a bunny.
I did not want to be a bunny.
Last year the play was The Elephant’s Surprise, and it was pretty good even though the elephant’s cardboard trunk fell off halfway through the play and Mrs. Burke had to come out and hold it up every time the elephant talked.
But that was last year. This year the play was going to be The Sorcerer’s Castle. Mrs. Burke read it to us in class last week. I really liked it.
There was a bunny in it, but it was a stuffed animal, so I was safe.
The Sorcerer was definitely the best part. I knew of four other boys who wanted it. And two girls.
Mrs. Burke picked up a big stack of papers. “I’m going to hand out scripts that will be yours to keep,” she said. “At the top of the first page I’ve stapled a piece of paper that says what your part is.”
This was the day! Now my legs were jiggling and my fingers wouldn’t be still. Even my hair felt all tingly.
I had to be the sorcerer.
I knew that I could do the part really well. If I just got the chance.
Please give me the chance! I thought.
“Your first assignment,” Mrs. Burke continued, “is to go through all the pages and underline the lines that are yours. Wherever you see the name of your character, underline that part.”
Mrs. Burke started calling people up to the front of the class to get their scripts. I sat on the edge of my seat, ready to go. If she was going in alphabetical order, I would be soon, since my last name is Bumpers. But then I heard her say Cory Filkins, so she wasn’t going alphabetical.
Boogers! I couldn’t wait much longer.
The kids who had their scripts started whispering about their parts. I thought I heard Cory Filkins say something about “Sorcerer,” but then Manny Soares said, “Me, too,” so I figured they were the Sorcerer’s assistants.
Finally, after a million years, Mrs. Burke called my name.
My heart was really beating fast as I walked up. She handed me my script. “This is a big part, Charlie,” she said, smiling. “I know you can do it.”
I nodded. This was a good sign. The sorcerer was a big part. Maybe I got it!
When I got back to my desk, I looked down at the piece of paper stapled to the top of my script.
I looked up at Mrs. Burke, then at the paper again.
It must be some mistake. I checked to make sure this was my script. “Charlie Bumpers” was printed on the upper right-hand sid
e of the paper.
“The Nice Gnome?” I said out loud. “I can’t be the Nice Gnome!”
BILL HARLEY is the author of the award-winning middle reader novels The Amazing Flight of Darius Frobisher and Night of the Spadefoot Toads. He is also a storyteller, musician, and writer who has been writing and performing for kids and families for more than twenty years. Harley is the recipient of Parents’ Choice and ALA awards and two Grammy Awards. He lives in Massachusetts.
www.billharley.com
ADAM GUSTAVSON has illustrated many books for children, including Lost and Found; The Blue House Dog; Mind Your Manners, Alice Roosevelt!; and Snow Day! He lives in New Jersey.
www.adamgustavson.com