Just before he left, Martin fumbled inside his knapsack to make sure he had his insurance against any more Trixi Wilder monkey business. He breathed a little more easily when his fingers felt the extra copy he’d made of this week’s edition of the Upland Green Examiner.
The next morning before school, Trixi knocked politely on Ms. Baumgartner’s office door. “Oh, excuse me, Ms. Baumgartner, but I have the latest edition of the school newspaper for you to see, just as you requested.”
Ms. Baumgartner looked up from her desk and smiled. “Why, thank you, Trixi. I certainly look forward to reading it over. I’m sure you and Martin have done a wonderful job with this week’s edition.”
Trixi smiled and left the office without another word.
For the next twenty-four hours, Martin worried about what trick Trixi might pull with his newspaper this time around. Even though Ms. Baumgartner’s new rules were supposedly prank-proof, Martin knew one thing—with Trixi Wilder, anything was possible.
ELEVEN
When Ms. Baumgartner called Trixi down to her office Wednesday morning, everything appeared to be going smoothly.
“You and Martin did a fine job with this week’s paper,” the principal said. “I read over every page, every line and every word, and I couldn’t see one thing that would offend, shock or annoy anyone. All the stories look like they’ve been carefully researched, plus the spelling and grammar are perfect. Well done!”
“Thank you, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said. “But I was just wondering about one thing.”
“And what’s that, Trixi?”
“Do you think anyone will actually want to buy this paper and read it?”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Ms. Baumgartner said. “My main concern is that the stories in the newspaper truly represent our school. And I certainly think this edition does.”
“But if we can’t sell enough copies, we won’t be able to pay for the photocopying, and you’ll have to shut the paper down. Isn’t that what you told us?” Trixi said.
“Well, certainly. You are absolutely right. The paper must sell enough copies to pay for itself. But let’s not worry about that now. You just go ahead with the photocopying, and we’ll see how sales go.”
Ms. Baumgartner let Trixi into the photocopy room. Before she left, the principal whispered, “I’d suggest not making too many copies, if I were you. You know. Keep your expenses down.”
Just before recess, Trixi set up a table in the front hall by the office, neatly stacked the copies of the latest edition of the newspaper and placed a tin can with a slot cut in the top beside them. She folded her hands together, rested them on the table and waited.
Martin slipped out of class a minute before the bell and sneaked into the paper-storage room. He left the door open a crack, giving him a perfect view of Trixi and the newspaper sales table. With the sweaty palm of his hand gripping the doorknob, he watched the sale of his newspaper knowing that enough copies had to sell…or else.
When the recess bell sounded, there was a stampede of students pouring out of classrooms and charging down the halls toward Trixi’s table. This time, Ms. Baumgartner was prepared. She blew a whistle and shouted, “Anyone who does not line up in an orderly fashion will not be sold a copy of the school newspaper!”
Martin breathed a huge sigh of relief as he watched the lineup grow, stretching straight down the hall, past the library, around the corner and out of sight. Everyone in the lineup was chattering with excitement.
“I can’t wait to see what crazy stories they came up with this week!”
“I wonder if there’ll be any stories about prehistoric flying reptiles coming back to life!”
“Or maybe an invasion of three-headed alien robots with bad breath!”
“Or how about a pack of crazed zombies out for revenge with deadly rolls of dental floss?”
But when Chucky Wilson, the fifth person in line, bought his copy of the paper and looked at the front page, he spluttered, “What happened to the newspaper? I can’t believe it! It’s just like the old one! Water in Drinking Fountains Safe to Drink! Who wants to pay twenty-five cents to read garbage like that?” Chucky tore up his copy of the paper and threw it down on the table. The first four kids who had bought papers tossed them in the recycle bin, and sales of the paper came to a sudden halt.
Word quickly spread down the long line that the school newspaper was back to its boring old self. The lineup scattered.
When Martin saw the crowd leaving, he burst through the door of the paper-storage room and ran down the hall shouting, “Come on, everyone! Give the paper a chance! It’ll be the best twenty-five cents you’ve ever spent! This paper is loaded with good, solid facts! You’ll know what really happened around the school last week!”
But everyone in the lineup ran away from Martin as if he really was a zombie armed with a deadly roll of dental floss. In a few seconds, the only ones left in the hall were Martin, Ms. Baumgartner and Trixi.
“Well, it looks like this was the last edition of the Upland Green Examiner,” Trixi said, drumming her fingers on the stack of unsold copies of the newspaper.
Martin threw his hands up and said, “Doesn’t anyone in this school appreciate solid factual reporting? Doesn’t anyone want to be properly informed?”
“I guess not,” Trixi replied.
Martin pounded the table with his fist. “I know what you’re thinking, Trixi Wilder!” Spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. “But that last newspaper you made up wasn’t a newspaper at all! It was junk food for the brain!”
“Martin. Calm down,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “There’s no need to get so…”
Martin was gone. He ran down the hall, into the paper-storage room, and slammed the door.
“Don’t worry about him, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said. “Knowing Martin, he’ll be okay in a while. He just needs some time to himself.”
“I suppose you’re right, Trixi. We all need time to ourselves once in a while,” the principal said. “Why don’t you head outside for some fresh air? There’s still ten minutes left of recess.”
“It’s okay, Ms. Baumgartner. I think I’ll just stay here. You never know when someone might change their mind and come back for a copy of the paper,” Trixi said.
Martin was huddled in the corner of the paper-storage room. Before any horrible thoughts of revenge or escape could fully form in his mind, he heard shouting and screaming out in the front hall. Curiosity got him up off the floor. He pulled the door open a crack and peeked out. It was just like the scene a week ago! A chaotic mess of kids was pushing, pulling, falling over, jumping up—doing everything they could to fight their way toward the table where Trixi was selling the school newspaper.
Ms. Baumgartner was there too. This time, she wasn’t quite so worried about crowd control. She stood back and smiled. When she saw Martin coming out of the paper-storage room, she waved him over and said, “It’s taken a while, but I think the students finally appreciate your newspaper, Martin. Just look at them!”
Martin had mixed feelings about the scene. Of course, he was happy. His paper was actually selling. He knew his newspaper was good. In fact, this edition might even be great. But he never imagined it could ever be this popular. This was truly amazing.
So amazing that Martin felt a little uneasy. Even though he’d written every word of the newspaper, and Ms. Baumgartner had checked it over, a terrible suspicion crept through his mind. After all, this was Trixi Wilder sitting behind the table selling the newspaper.
“Hey, Martin!” Darcy Brookman shouted. He was across the hall and waving a copy of the newspaper. “You two did it again! I love the story about the drinking fountain!”
Ms. Baumgartner smiled. “I knew they’d find that story fascinating, Martin. Didn’t I tell you?”
Jenny Butler, in Mrs. Langley’s class, ran up to Ms.
Baumgartner with a worried look. “Ms. Baumgartner! I can’t stand frogs! They’re so icky and slimy, and I just ca
n’t stand them!”
“Oh? Is…Is that so, Jenny?” Ms. Baumgartner replied.
Now, Martin was more than suspicious.
“You still have your voice, Ms. Baumgartner!” Darryl Barnard said with a grin.
“Yes, of course I do,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Darryl just snickered.
The principal turned to Martin and said, “What’s Darryl talking about, Martin? Why would he ask about my voice?”
“I…I…I have no idea, Ms. Baumgartner,” Martin said.
“I hope there’s no funny stuff going on with the paper, Martin! I gave the two of you strict instructions!”
Before Martin could say a word, Ms. Baumgartner disappeared into the crowd, fighting her way through the tangle of flailing arms and legs toward the table. When Ms.
Baumgartner’s face suddenly appeared out of the crowd, Trixi looked up and grinned.
“As you can see, sales are brisk,” she said, leaning on the stack of unsold papers and covering the front page with her arms.
Ms. Baumgartner snapped her fingers three times and pointed at the stack of papers.
“A paper?” Trixi said. “You want to buy a paper, Ms. Baumgartner? It’ll cost you fifty cents. The price has gone up because the newspaper’s so popular. And we only accept exact change, I’m afraid.”
Ms. Baumgartner snapped her fingers again.
Trixi knew the principal wasn’t going to budge. She slid her arms slowly off the stack of newspapers to reveal the front-page headline:
DEDLY DRINCKING FOWNTAINS!
Water in school’s drincking fowntains contanes sleeping poshon!
Ms. Baumgartner snatched up the newspaper and turned to page two:
MISTERIOUS VIRUS CAUZES ADULTS TO LOOZ
THERE VOICES!
On page three she read:
SCIENCE FARE PROJEC A SUCSESS! GRADE SIX
HAMPSTER IS A GENIUS!
Then there was the weather forecast:
RAYNING CATS AND DOGS? NOPE! JUST FROGS!
Trixi didn’t have to wait for Ms. Baumgartner to say anything. She picked up the stack of unsold papers and followed the principal through the crowd to her office. Just before closing her door, Ms. Baumgartner looked at Martin and motioned for him to join them.
Even before Trixi had a chance to sit in her usual yellow plastic chair, Ms. Baumgartner was ranting. “This in NOT the newspaper I approved yesterday! I made myself perfectly clear. The paper I approved was to be copied AS IS and sold AS IS. NO CHANGES! That was clearly plain…er…plainly clear. NO CHANGES!”
“I did try to sell the edition of the paper you approved, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said, coolly handing her the unsold copies of the Upland Green Examiner.
“You saw what happened when we tried to sell Martin’s paper,” Trixi said. “Five copies sold. Then, after everyone discovered the paper was about as exciting as watching an ice cube melt, no one bought a single copy.”
Ms. Baumgartner paced back and forth, her hands held tightly behind her back, her eyes flicking up and down from ceiling to floor and back. Even though she wasn’t sure if Ms. Baumgartner was in any mood to listen, Trixi kept talking. “You wanted us to write a paper that would sell. I knew the edition you approved wouldn’t sell because it was just so boring. So, last night, I took the stories and did some editing, giving them a bit of punch and pizzazz! Just the way you suggested.”
Ms. Baumgartner stopped, stared at Trixi and nodded slowly. Trixi took this as a good sign, so she rambled on. “I knew I couldn’t let you down, Ms. Baumgartner! I knew I had to do something to save our school newspaper. So I started selling my punch-and-pizzazz version of the paper. And here are the results!”
Trixi dug into her pants pockets and pulled out handful after handful of coins. By the time her pockets were empty, there was a heap of money on the principal’s desk. Ms. Baumgartner slowly walked around to the back of her desk and sat down, her eyes glued to the pile of coins.
“I’m just trying to make the paper pay for itself,” Trixi said. “And by the looks of this, I’d say I was pretty successful.”
Martin jumped forward and swept his arm across the desk, scattering the coins across the floor.
“Just because you made a lot of money doesn’t mean the paper was a success!” he said. His face was turning a scary shade of red.
Trixi shook her head slowly and said, “You’re smarter than that, Martin. Everyone knows that the more money you make, the more successful you are. This,” she said, pointing at the scattered coins, “means my paper was a success. And yours wasn’t.”
“But just look at this paper!” Martin grabbed a copy of the Upland Green Gossiper. “Who cares if it makes a million dollars? This paper is a disgrace! An embarrassment to the school!”
“Money talks, Marty,” Trixi said.
“It’s an unfortunate fact, Martin, that the survival of the school newspaper does depend upon it making some money,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “Remember our agreement? Enough copies had to be sold to pay for the expenses of copying the paper.”
“So, what you’re saying,” Martin said, “is that it doesn’t matter what’s written in the paper as long as it sells?”
“No, it’s not that simple,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “There has to be a—”
Before Ms. Baumgartner could finish, Mrs. O’Reilly appeared once again at the office door.
TWELVE
The last time Mrs. O’Reilly had burst into Ms. Baumgartner’s office, she was screaming. This time, she was not. Although her mouth was opening and closing, not a sound came out. She was bug-eyed, her arms flailed and everything about her was screaming. The only thing missing was the actual sound.
“Mrs. O’Reilly! What is it? Say something!” Ms. Baumgartner said.
“Page two!” Trixi said. “Remember? The virus!”
“It has nothing to do with the newspaper,” Martin said. “My mom caught laryngitis last month and she sounded…er, didn’t sound, just like Mrs. O’Reilly.”
Standing alongside Mrs. O’Reilly was one of her students, Cindy Flagstone. Cindy was staring down at the floor, refusing to look the principal in the eye.
It was like a wild game of charades when Mrs. O’Reilly tried to mime why she and Cindy were down at the office as she scurried around the office on all fours.
“A dog? A dog chewed up Cindy’s test paper?” Ms. Baumgartner said. “No? A small dog? A Chihuahua? She brought her Chihuahua to school and it attacked the test? It attacked you? No?”
Cindy couldn’t stand it any longer. “Einstein wrote my math test for me!”
Mrs. O’Reilly nodded solemnly in agreement.
“Einstein?” Ms. Baumgartner said. “Einstein? We don’t have a student in this school named Einstein.”
Cindy sighed and said, “Einstein’s our class’s pet hamster.”
Ms. Baumgartner began to rub her forehead again. “Let me get this straight, Cindy. You’re saying the class hamster wrote your math test for you?”
Cindy nodded.
“And by a hamster, you mean a small furry rodent that lives in a cage, chews up newspaper and likes to run on a wheel?”
Cindy nodded again, and Mrs. O’Reilly nodded in agreement. Trixi watched Ms. Baumgartner searching for words, for answers, for anything to say about this mystifying situation.
“It’s just like the story in this week’s paper,” Trixi said. “The grade-six hamster really is a genius!”
“I read the newspaper too, Trixi!” Ms. Baumgartner said.
“But there’s a big difference, young lady, between a fairy tale in the school newspaper and what actually happens in real life.”
Mrs. O’Reilly pulled Cindy’s test paper out of her pocket and tapped the paper with her finger, pointing at the A+ written in red ink across the top. As Mrs. O’Reilly began waving her hands and arms, Cindy said, “She’s trying to tell you that I’m not very good at math. I fail most tests.” Then Mrs. O’Reilly pointed t
o a telltale paw print on the edge of the paper.
“The Upland Green Gossiper does it again!” Trixi said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Trixi,” Martin said. “This is just another coincidence.”
“A math-genius hamster is a coincidence?” Trixi said. “I think not! And it sure isn’t a coincidence that Mrs. O’Reilly lost her voice, because I wrote a story about that too. In fact, it looks as if more of the adults have lost their voices!” Three more teachers walked up to the office door, waving their arms and pointing to their throats.
“There you go. What did I tell you? It’s true! It’s really true!” Trixi said. “A school full of adults who can’t talk. Now, that’s my idea of paradise!”
Ms. Baumgartner opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She clutched her throat and tried to talk again, but not a sound could be heard. The same could be said—or not said—for Mrs. Sledge.
Ms. Baumgartner ran to her desk and pulled out a pen and notepad. She wrote in a frenzy for a few moments and then held out the paper to Trixi and Martin.
“I can’t read her writing,” Trixi said. “Here, you read it.”
Martin took the notepad and began to read out loud, “This is an emergency! Are you willing to help? ”
“Sure, I’m willing to help,” Trixi said.
“Me too,” Martin said.
Ms. Baumgartner took the pad back, scribbled some more and handed the pad back to Martin who read, “I’m calling an emergency assembly. We can’t have it in the gym. Some water from the flood seeped into the gym, and today the repairmen are fixing the water damage to the floor. The assembly will have to be held outside on the front field. I’ll need one of you to go on the pa to call everyone out to the assembly.”
Tabloidology Page 8