Saving Mr. Terupt

by Robert W. Buyea

  “I’ll think about it,” she said, “but only if you’re going to win.”

  “I’ll win.”

  “Then I’ll be there.” She smiled.

  It was at that moment that I knew Scott Winshall didn’t stand a chance—not this time.

  “Well, you’re not quite as smooth with the ladies as you are with your wrestling moves,” Dad said, clapping me on the shoulder, “but you’re getting there.”

  —

  Before the fair ended, Terupt came up to me.

  “You did a terrific job, Jeffrey. All of you did.”

  “We never would have been able to pull it off without you,” I said.

  Terupt nodded, but he didn’t look as happy as I’d thought he would.

  The highlight of the Everything Fair had to be when Luke put on an exhibition of sorts with his snake, Stanley. Poor Luke was so determined to help Mr. T by making the fair the most awesome thing to ever have happened at the junior high that he got a bit carried away. He had his show scheduled for eleven o’clock, which was when the second graders were visiting. Had Luke known about that class and who was in it, I’m sure he would’ve held his demonstration at a different time, but hey, that’s why they say hindsight is twenty-twenty. Lesson learned, I guess.

  At exactly eleven o’clock, I dimmed the lights and announced Luke’s surprise show over my microphone. “All right, boys and girls,” I called out in my best ringmaster voice. “The moment we’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived. We need you to gather around the animal center for a special show. You’re the only class that gets to witness this amazing thing today.”

  I added that last part so the kids would get excited, but as I soon found out, they didn’t need any extra encouragement. The entire class went bonkers and clamored over to Luke’s area. They were dying to find out what surprise awaited them.

  Luke remained calm and asked all the young boys and girls to sit on the floor. They did, and their teachers and everyone else (meaning us) sat off to the side. Then, continuing in his patient way, Luke asked all the boys and girls to stop talking. They did. So far, so good. Next Luke knelt by the tank that he had resting on the floor nearby. He had the tank covered by a blanket so the second graders were still unaware of what lay underneath it. Up to this point, things had gone perfectly, but that was all about to change.

  “Inside this tank resides Stanley, my four-foot ball python,” Luke told all those eager faces.

  “Whoa!” several little boys exclaimed, already getting wound up.

  “Eww!” several little girls cried.

  “Shh,” Luke whispered, holding his finger against his nose. “I have Stanley covered by this blanket to help keep him calm. We have the lights dimmed to help keep him calm. It is extremely important that everyone stay quiet when I lift the blanket off his tank.”

  “What’s he gonna do?” one little boy yelled out.

  “Shh. Quiet, Donnie,” his teacher said. “Let Luke finish explaining.”

  “I want to see him!” Donnie cried out.

  “Quiet, Donnie!” a little girl with braids shouted.

  “Shh,” their teacher urged, glaring at both of them.

  Her shushing wasn’t working, I could see that, but Lukester did a good job of continuing with his show. That was the only way to keep Donnie from jumping out of his pants.

  “Loud noises will make Stanley nervous and stress him out, and then you won’t be able to see him perform,” Luke explained to the kids. “You must stay quiet. Understand?”

  “Yes,” a chorus of small voices answered, all their heads nodding.

  “Good,” Luke said, gripping the corner of the blanket. He looked over his crowd, pausing for dramatic effect, amping those second graders up even more, which wasn’t necessary or smart. Then, in one swift motion, he yanked the cover away, revealing Stanley.

  “Whoa, he’s awesome!” Donnie yelled.

  Luke smiled from ear to ear.

  “Shush, Donnie,” the girl with braids shouted.

  “I want one of those!” Donnie yelled.

  “Don-nie!” the girl with braids shouted.

  “Missy, stop yelling! Donnie, that goes for you, too!” their teacher snapped. She was yelling now, too.

  Luke’s smile was beginning to disappear, but he pressed on with his show. I wonder, did he really think Donnie and Missy and the rest of those second-grade munchkins were going to stay quiet for this next part when they couldn’t contain themselves after just seeing Stanley?

  “If you can quiet down—and stay quiet—then I’ll move on with the show,” Luke said. “Stanley is waiting to perform.” The soft patience in his voice was gone and had been replaced by a shorter, harder tone.

  The second graders grew silent—even Donnie. Everyone wanted to know what Luke planned to do next. The entire gym sat holding its breath.

  Luke reached into the backpack he had sitting on the floor behind Stanley’s tank and pulled out a see-through container. Inside it, a white mouse huddled in one corner. The whole class let out a gasp. Donnie was already on his feet. Luke didn’t hesitate. He lifted the top off Stanley’s tank and dumped that furry little critter inside. Pandemonium erupted.

  “Whoa!” Donnie shouted. It was too much. He couldn’t take it. He started hopping up and down and pumping his fist. “Get it! Get it!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  Missy and several other girls in her class started screaming, “Ahhh!”

  A group of boys joined in with Donnie. “Get it! Get it!” they yelled. They couldn’t contain themselves.

  “Quiet!” Luke shouted. “Quiet! You’re scaring Stanley! You’re stressing him out!”

  Forget it. There was no stopping them—any of them. They were out of control.

  “Get it! Get it!”

  “Ahh!”

  “Quiet!”

  Stanley didn’t budge. Even with the furry little mouse scurrying around all over the place, he had no interest in performing. Luke threw the blanket back over the tank. He was done. He’d had it.

  Donnie was mad. “That’s a stupid snake,” he said.

  “Maybe if you weren’t yelling, he would’ve done something,” Luke said, all out of patience and smiles.

  “Maybe if you gave him something better than that dumb mouse, he’d perform,” Donnie said. Then, fast as lightning, the little rat grabbed Margo off Lexie’s lap and hoisted her in the air. “Something like this!” Donnie cried, yanking the blanket and top off Stanley’s tank and dangling Margo above it.

  “Ahh!” the girls screamed.

  “Margo!” Lexie shrieked.

  That was when I stepped in and grabbed that little twerp by the back of his shirt. “Hey, Donnie,” I whispered in his ear, “how about I stuff you in that cage with Stanley?” His eyes popped. I knew how to talk to him. Let’s just say he reminded me of someone.

  I’m not sure if Margo was excited to see me, or if Donnie had scared the bejeepers out of her, but she started peeing all over the front of him. Donnie started crying, and his class started squealing and laughing, especially Missy. I took Margo from Donnie, and his teacher took him by the hand and escorted him out of the gym. I could feel Margo’s little heart pitter-pattering against my chest as I cradled her in my arms. I carried her over to Lexie.

  “Thank you, Peter,” she said.

  The way she said it, and the way she looked at me, got my heart racing faster than the dog’s.

  “You wait and see. Donnie and Missy will end up dating down the road,” I said.

  “Sometimes opposites attract,” Lexie said. “We know how that works.”

  Now my heart almost stopped. I couldn’t get any more words out, so I settled on a smile—one that Lexie returned. This was definitely the highlight of my fair.

  The only hiccup that occurred at the Everything Fair was during my show with Stanley, but Peter helped me out there, and Mr. Terupt talked to me afterward.

  LUKE’S SEVENTH-GRADE SURVIVAL GUIDE

 
; TIP #15: When planning a presentation or show of sorts, it’s best to know your audience beforehand.

  “I’m sorry Stanley didn’t respond the way you were hoping,” Mr. Terupt said. “I think our friends got a little excited.”

  “Yeah, just a little,” I said.

  “Don’t let that get you down, Lukester. Look at this.” Mr. Terupt swept his arms around the gym. “This is the result of your idea. It takes a great leader to dream this up, and a great leader to get people working together to make it happen. You should be proud. This fair has been awesome.”

  Mr. Terupt wasn’t the only one to think our fair turned out awesome, either. I overheard several different teachers talking throughout the day, saying things like “This is incredible” and “I don’t know how Mr. Terupt pulls it off, but I can tell you it wouldn’t be happening without him around.” Everyone who came through had a wonderful time. Mrs. Terupt and Mrs. Williams told me how much they loved it. Our superintendent, Dr. Knowles, even showed up and expressed the extreme pride he felt in our work.

  “This is beyond impressive,” he said to Mrs. Williams and Principal Lee.

  “Mr. Terupt has a way of inspiring kids and getting them to do amazing things,” she told him.

  After hearing things like that, I thought for sure we’d done enough to keep Mr. Terupt safe, and I couldn’t have been happier. Then Lexie went ahead and made my day even more wonderful.

  “Luke, like, this fair has been a lot of fun,” she said, taking me by surprise.

  “Thanks,” I said, “for helping to make it happen.”

  “There’s something else I wanted to tell you,” she said. “Nothing happened in that closet between Jessica and Jeffrey. They were in there talking about Anna the whole time. I think you’re smart enough to see that those two like each other. If Jessica had it her way, it would’ve been you in the closet with her.”

  I stood there dumbfounded.

  “And one more thing,” she said. “I’m sorry that I even had us play that game at the party.”

  I never expected Lexie to be the one to make me feel so much better about the party and Jessica, but she did.

  LUKE’S SEVENTH-GRADE SURVIVAL GUIDE

  TIP #16: Sometimes it’s okay to let girls do the talking.

  The Everything Fair was a gigantic success. My popularity was instantly restored because I was the guy who got things done. We raised close to six hundred dollars, which our class had already voted to put to immediate use by purchasing a sno-cone machine for the cafeteria. The gang and I had other ideas about how to spend that money, but then I’d have lured my grade to the fair under false pretenses. I’d promised them the money we made would go right back to them, and I had to keep my promises. Besides, everyone there saw what an inspirational teacher Mr. Terupt was, so the fair had accomplished what it was supposed to—or so I thought.

  It had been a terrific day for everyone, but that all changed the moment Anna and Danielle came rushing back into the gym from Nurse Sharon’s office.

  Before the fair ended, Danielle started feeling shaky. She was out of juice in her kit, so I went with her to the nurse. It made me nervous whenever she got like that, especially when she didn’t have sugar to treat herself with right away, but I was still nothing like Nurse Sharon. When we showed up unexpectedly and told her the situation, she got all frazzled.

  Danielle and I remained calm. We knew the drill. Danielle sat down while I got her some juice. She drank it, and then we waited. After having a low blood sugar reading, Danielle was supposed to treat herself, and then wait until her symptoms went away. If her symptoms persisted, then she would need to do another finger stick to recheck, and continue to treat herself.

  The waiting was torture for Nurse Sharon. She had some crazy fear that the juice wasn’t going to work one of these times. Not surprisingly, her jitters spread to her mouth and she got going a mile a minute with who else but Mrs. Rollins.

  “Did you go to that fair today?” Nurse Sharon asked Mrs. Rollins.

  “Yes, I sure did.”

  “Wasn’t it something?” Nurse Sharon said. “There was so much to see: origami, animals, knitting, wood burning, LEGOs—”

  “It’s a shame,” Mrs. Rollins said. “Those poor kids really put their hearts and souls into it, and that Mr. Terupt seems like a wonderful man, but if push comes to shove, he’ll still be one of the first people on the chopping block.”

  I’m not sure if Danielle’s symptoms were gone, but she was right behind me, running down the hall. We rushed into the gym and found the gang as fast as we could.

  “Luke was right,” I said, fighting to catch my breath. “We just overheard Mrs. Rollins talking….She said if push…comes to shove…Mr. Terupt…will be one of the first people to go.”

  “What does that mean?” Peter asked.

  “It means what we feared could be true, is true,” Luke said. “This fair hasn’t changed anything. If the budget fails, Mr. Terupt is out. It’s time for another campaign—Saving Mr. Terupt.”

  Luke’s not the only one who can come up with good ideas. It was my pancreas that had quit working, not my brain.

  Anna had mentioned the wrestling tournament that she planned on going to for Jeffrey, and that got me thinking. Wrestling meant boys—lots of them. And adolescent boys must be among the hungriest creatures on the planet. I know because I watch them in amazement every day at lunch. There were also sure to be lots of hungry fans at such a big, all-day event. It seemed to me we could make a bundle if we were to have a bake sale at the tournament. If good teaching wouldn’t change people’s minds, maybe some cash would.

  “That’s a great idea!” Luke exclaimed. “And then we’ll present our money to the Board of Education members at the meeting. It could be enough to keep them from making certain cuts.”

  “Let’s do it,” Peter said. “I’ll get Miss Catalina baking around the clock.”

  “Vincent will make stuff for us too,” Lexie said.

  “We can call it the Budget Bake Sale so Mr. Terupt won’t know we’re doing it for him. Everyone knows about the budget issue, just not about which teachers might be cut,” Jessica said.

  It was decided. Everyone loved my idea, including Grandma. When I got home I told her all about it, and she immediately went to the cupboards and started taking an inventory of all the ingredients we had and those we needed to get.

  Since I’d been diagnosed with diabetes, Grandma had been reading more and more about the different foods that were good for me. She’d always commanded the kitchen, but lately she had even more energy in there. She was determined to come up with some healthy options for me. Grandma was the best baker this side of the Mississippi, but all the different sugar-free recipes she was trying left much to be desired. For the bake sale, we agreed it was best to make the good old-fashioned stuff.

  It was just the two of us knee-deep in flour when I got up the courage to ask her something I’d been thinking about lately. “Grandma?”

  “Yes?”

  “How old were you when you first took notice of a boy? I mean, noticed a boy ’cause you liked him. I mean, liked him more than just a friend.”

  “What’s got you asking that question?”

  “Well, all my friends seem to be liking each other in that more-than-friends way. And I was just wondering when that might happen to me.”

  Grandma stood up from the oven and turned around. She placed the warm tray of brownies on the counter beside me. Then she wiped her hands on a towel and took a sip of her coffee. “Danielle,” she began, “you shouldn’t feel bad about this. There are plenty of women who don’t get distracted with spending time on silly crushes, but wait until the real thing comes along and sweeps them off their feet. That’s how it was for me. And that didn’t happen until I was twenty. Nowadays, that sort of thing seems to happen even later, so don’t be in a rush. There are some things in life worth waiting for.”

  “Grandpa swept you off your feet?” I said, and grinned.
>
  “Now don’t you go and tell him I said that.”

  —

  Grandma and I spent the whole weekend making cookies and brownies, breads and pies. Mom helped, too. It was a lot of fun, and a lot of work, but we were willing to do everything we could to help protect Mr. Terupt’s job.

  The Budget Bake Sale was our second attempt aimed at saving Mr. Terupt, our first official one since we’d learned his job was indeed on the line. But it wouldn’t be our last.

  I met the girls around midmorning at Perry Falls School to set up for our Budget Bake Sale. After Danielle came up with this brilliant idea, Mom called the principal there and got permission for us to hold our fund-raiser. I was worried they wouldn’t want another school making money off their event, but they were understanding and said yes. The girls brought the signs and baked goods, and I was responsible for bringing the folding tables, cash box, and brand-new sno-cone machine. I felt better about having spent so much money on it now that it would be helping our cause. We had everything we needed. Peter and Jeffrey and Mr. Terupt had wrestling to focus on for the day, and that was good. We didn’t want Mr. Terupt involved or worrying about us. He still didn’t know we knew his job was on the line, and we wanted to keep it that way. Even though we weren’t saying anything about him, he was Mr. Terupt, and if he were to go poking around the Budget Bake Sale, he might get suspicious.

  By the time we arrived, the gym was already packed with people. Coaches shouting out instructions. Teammates yelling words of encouragement. Girlfriends biting fingernails. Mothers and fathers either squirming in their seats or hollering at the referees. It was nothing like a Boy Scout meeting, that’s for sure. It was nuts, but none of that was what Lexie noticed.

  “What’s wrong, Lexie?” Jessica asked after seeing her disgusted expression.

  “I can’t go in there. That smell isn’t human.”