by Louis Sachar
Yet.
Mrs. Jewls turned the dial on the padlock as she quietly said the combination to herself. “Twenty-four . . . seventeen . . . six.”
The lock opened.
“But you said it wasn’t there,” Jason pointed out.
“Of course it’s there,” said Mrs. Jewls. “Hold this.” She gave Jason one end of the heavy chain.
He remained where he was as Mrs. Jewls took the other end and walked four times around the closet, unwrapping it. Then she took Jason’s end from him and tossed the chain aside.
It clanged against the floor.
A steel bar, held in place by two clamps, still blocked the closet doors. The locks on the clamps had letters instead of numbers.
Jason watched as Mrs. Jewls set one lock to ACBD and the other lock to BDBC.
The clamps snapped open.
“I’m really sorry about the paper clip, Mrs. Jewls,” said Jason.
“It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” said his teacher. She lifted the steel bar and tossed it aside. A loud CLANK echoed down and up the stairs.
Mrs. Jewls walked down several steps. Jason watched, amazed, as she slid open a secret compartment hidden in the third step from the top.
She removed two keys, one red and one green.
Each closet door had a keyhole; one was green, the other red. Mrs. Jewls put the green key in the red hole, and the red key in the green hole.
“I have to turn them toward each other, at precisely the same time,” she said, “or else it will trigger the sirens and smoke screen.”
Jason held his breath as he watched her turn the keys.
The doors clicked open.
Ever since the closet first appeared, he and his friends had been trying to guess what was inside it. They imagined all kinds of horrible things, but what Jason saw now was worse than anything they ever imagined.
The closet was empty.
“Don’t lock me in there, Mrs. Jewls!” he pleaded. “I didn’t do it on purpose. The book was too heavy!”
He tried to remember all that he had seen and heard. Third step from the top. Red key in green hole. 27-6-14. ABDC.
It was too much! It was slipping out of his brain faster than he could remember.
“CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT IF YOU SMELL SOMETHING UNUSUAL!”
“I don’t want to become an unusual smell!” he cried.
“What are you blabbering about?” asked Mrs. Jewls. “Why would I lock you in the closet?”
She bent over.
Jason looked again. The closet wasn’t completely empty, after all. There, in the back corner, was a small cardboard box.
Mrs. Jewls picked it up. A price tag stuck to its side read, “89¢.”
Mrs. Jewls opened the top flap and removed a paper clip.
“Now, don’t tell anyone where you got this,” she said as she handed it to him.
“I won’t,” he promised.
She put the box back in the closet, then shut and locked the doors, turning the color-coded keys in opposite directions. She returned the keys to their secret hiding place.
She grunted as she lifted the steel bar, and then again when she set it in place. She snapped the clamps shut and spun the dials on the locks.
Jason picked up one end of the chain and walked four times around the closet. Mrs. Jewls secured the padlock.
“I’m very proud of you, Jason, for finishing the whole book,” she said.
“I was kind of sorry when it ended,” said Jason.
Teacher and student returned to class.
21
Breathe
Stephen stared at the clock on the wall.
What if he couldn’t lift the mallet? What if he dropped it on his toe? What if he dropped it on Mr. Kidswatter’s toe? He could be expelled!
“Breathe,” said Jason from the desk next to him.
Stephen took a breath.
He stared at the clock.
What if someone left a skateboard on the stairs? Then he might trip over it on his way to the gong. If he broke his leg, Mr. Kidswatter would yell at him for being late!
“Breathe,” said Rondi from the desk on his other side.
Stephen took a breath.
He stared at the clock. Sometimes, it seemed the hands didn’t move at all. Other times, he’d blink, and it would be half an hour later.
Time didn’t always make sense at Wayside School.
For lunch, Miss Mush made pepper-only pizza. Stephen ate his slice, but did not remember eating it. His only clue was that he was very thirsty and his tongue and lips burned.
He returned to his seat in Mrs. Jewls’s class. He stared at the clock.
Jenny was late coming back from lunch. “Sorry, Mrs. Jewls,” she said. “I can’t find my skateboard.”
“Oh, no!” Stephen shouted.
“Are you all right, Stephen?” Mrs. Jewls asked him.
“Why did he have to pick me?” Stephen moaned.
“If you didn’t want to do it, why’d you raise your hand?” asked Mac.
“Everyone else had their hands raised,” Stephen explained. “I mean, I guess I was excited about it at the time, but now . . .”
“You have cold feet,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“Yes!” exclaimed Stephen. He wondered how Mrs. Jewls knew that. His feet felt like two blocks of ice. No wonder she was a teacher! But what did his frozen feet have to do with ringing the gong?
“Breathe,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Stephen took a breath.
Mrs. Jewls’s class always had music on Friday afternoons. “I’m sorry, we don’t have musical instruments today,” she announced. “They were sent out to be cleaned, and we haven’t gotten them back yet.”
What if the gong was being washed too? Would he have to bang it on a different day?
“Breathe,” said Kathy.
Stephen took a breath.
“So just use what you were born with!” said Mrs. Jewls. “And a one, and a two . . .”
Dana loudly blew her nose. Ron twiddled his lips. Mac puffed out his cheek and popped it with a flick of a finger. Calvin and Bebe whistled. Joe stood on his head and sang “Jingle Bells.”
Paul pulled Leslie’s pigtails. She shrieked, squealed, or squawked, depending on the pull.
“Stop the music!” Mrs. Jewls suddenly shouted, and the room became instantly quiet.
“Stephen, you’re late,” she told him. “I’m sorry. I was so carried away by the music, I didn’t notice the time.”
“Time?” said Stephen.
“Now, Stephen!” said Mrs. Jewls.
He remained frozen in his chair.
Mrs. Jewls asked Jason and Rondi to help.
They moved to either side of Stephen and slowly lifted him to a standing position. “It’s time, buddy,” said Jason.
“Time,” Stephen repeated.
He took one step, then stopped.
“Now the other leg,” said Rondi.
He took another step.
“You can do it, Stephen!” cheered Kathy.
“Bang that gong like no one ever banged it before!” called Joy.
Stephen walked across the room. He stepped out the door. Behind him, he heard the entire class shout together.
“Breathe!”
Stephen took a breath.
22
The Moment
Stephen was worrying his way down the stairs when suddenly he spotted Jenny’s skateboard, right in the middle of a step. He stepped over it.
Well, that was easy.
And just like that, his fears vanished. Not even the Cloud of Doom worried him.
He quickly hurried the rest of the way down. He didn’t want to be late. When he reached the second floor, he could see Louis below, wheeling the gong into place.
“Louis!” he shouted, and then jumped down the final eight steps. “Am I late?”
“You’re right on time,” said the yard teacher.
The gong was gigantic, almost tw
ice as big as Stephen. He had never stood so close to it before. In the center was a small red dot.
The iron mallet hung from a hook. The mallet was longer than his arm, and thicker too.
“Have you been doing your push-downs?” Louis asked.
Stephen nodded. “I’m almost up to two,” he said confidently.
Mr. Kidswatter stepped out of his office. He took one look at Stephen and asked, “Who are you?”
“This is Stephen,” said Louis. “You chose him to bang the gong today?”
“Him? Why would I choose him?”
“Because you’re the best principal ever!!!” said Louis.
“Well, yes, that’s true,” said Mr. Kidswatter.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” said Stephen.
“That’s what worries me,” said the principal.
Louis handed Stephen two cotton balls.
As Stephen was stuffing them in his ears, Louis unhooked the mallet.
He held it out to Stephen.
Stephen wobbled as he took the mallet with both hands. Louis helped him raise it to his shoulder.
Mr. Kidswatter checked his watch, and then started the countdown.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
He had to shout the numbers, so Stephen could hear him through the cotton balls.
“Seven! Six!”
Stephen tightened his grip on the handle.
“Five! Four!”
Stephen groaned loudly as he slowly raised the iron mallet up off his shoulder. It was a good thing he’d been doing all those push-downs.
“Three!”
Stephen staggered, but maintained his balance.
“Two!”
He concentrated on the red dot.
“One!!!”
He swung with all his might . . . and missed!
He didn’t just miss the red dot. He missed the gong.
Louis jumped out of the way as the weight of the mallet pulled Stephen around in a circle.
The second time around, the mallet banged into the gong, right on the dot.
GONNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn . . .
Despite the cotton balls, the sound echoed inside Stephen’s skull, and rattled his bones.
. . . NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNN—nnnnnn—NNNNNNN—
It traveled up the stairs, all the way to the thirtieth floor.
. . . nnnnnn-NNNNNNG!
“He did it!” shouted Mac.
“Yay, Stephen!” yelled Jenny.
Everyone in Mrs. Jewls’s class whooped and hollered.
Louis kept Stephen from falling over, and took the mallet from him. He hooked it to the frame, and then he and Stephen wheeled the gong into the principal’s office.
Mr. Kidswatter was already there, standing by the door. The principal held out his big hand and said, “Well done, Stephen!”
In the history of Wayside School, Stephen was the only kid to ever shake Mr. Kidswatter’s hand.
In the future, whenever Stephen feels worried, or frustrated, or just plain sad, his mind will take him back to the moment the mallet struck the gong. He will close his eyes and see the red dot. His hands will feel the weight of the iron mallet. He will hear the sound of the gong bouncing back and forth between his ears, and will feel the vibrations in his bones.
And he will smile.
23
Blame It on the Cloud
Mrs. Jewls went from desk to desk as she handed back the arithmetic test. “I’m very disappointed in you, Joy,” she said. “You need to learn your sixes and sevens.”
Joy had gotten an F. That awful letter was written in red ink, and there was a circle around it.
“But it wasn’t my fault, Mrs. Jewls,” Joy complained. “It’s the Cloud of Doom. It made me change my answers!”
“Hmmm,” said Mrs. Jewls as she took another look at Joy’s test. She made two little strokes with her red pen, changing the F to a B.
Joy smiled.
The door swung open and Bebe walked in more than fifteen minutes late.
“Bebe, you need to put your name on the board under DISCIPLINE,” Mrs. Jewls told her.
“Don’t blame me,” said Bebe. “I left my house on time. The Cloud of Doom slowed me down.”
“Oh. Okay, then,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Leslie screamed.
Mrs. Jewls turned.
“Paul pulled my pigtails!” she accused. “Both at the same time!”
“Paul, what do you have to say for yourself?” demanded Mrs. Jewls.
Paul shrugged. “Cloud-a-Doom?” he tried.
Leslie turned around and shook her fist at Paul. “I’ll doom you, you ugly bug sniffer!”
“Leslie, that’s no way to talk!” said Mrs. Jewls.
“It wasn’t me, Mrs. Jewls,” Leslie said sweetly. “The Cloud of Doom made me say it.”
“Well, apologize to Paul for calling him ugly.”
“But I didn’t call him ugly,” said Leslie. “He sniffs ugly bugs.”
Jenny and D.J. laughed. Mrs. Jewls glared at them.
“Cloud-a-Doom,” they said at the same time.
Mrs. Jewls continued to hand back the tests. “You can do better, Terrence,” she said, when she came to him.
Terrence crumpled his test into a ball and brought it to the front of the room, where he dropped it in the trash. He stood there a moment, staring at the trash basket.
“Terrence, return to your seat!” ordered Mrs. Jewls.
He stayed where he was.
“Terrence, do you have a problem?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
“No,” said Terrence. “No problem.” He kicked the basket. It sailed end over end across the classroom, spilling trash along the way.
Mac raised both arms like a football ref. “Three points!” he declared.
“Terrence!” exclaimed Mrs. Jewls.
“Sorry, the Cloud of Doom made me do it,” said Terrence.
“Mac,” said Mrs. Jewls. “You know better.”
“Cloud of—”
“Enough!” shouted Mrs. Jewls. “I get it. It’s hard with that cloud hanging over us all the time. But you can’t blame it for everything that goes wrong. You have to take responsibility. And that means working extra hard so things don’t go wrong! So, I’m doubling all your homework.”
“That’s not fair!” complained Benjamin.
Mrs. Jewls told Benjamin to write his name on the blackboard under the word DISCIPLINE.
“The Ultimate Test will start Monday,” Mrs. Jewls declared. “It will take three days to complete, and you better be prepared, cloud or no cloud!”
There were lots of groans.
Mrs. Jewls returned to Joy’s desk. She crossed out the B, and this time gave her an F minus.
“Terrence, there’s a broom in the back closet. I want you to pick up the trash basket and sweep the floor. Mac will help you.
“Everyone else, get in line behind Benjamin, and write your names on the blackboard under DISCIPLINE.”
There were more moans and groans as everyone rose from their seats.
“Except you, Todd,” ordered Mrs. Jewls. “You’re the only one who’s been good.”
Todd sat back down. He scratched his head.
“You used to be a nice teacher,” said Rondi as she made her way to the blackboard.
“Why are you so mean?” asked Allison.
Mrs. Jewls just shrugged, and said, “Cloud-a-Doom.”
Above them, the dark cloud continued to churn, as it turned itself inside out again and again. No one hardly noticed it anymore, but it continued to grow larger and more powerful every day.
Lightning flashed inside the cloud, where no one could see it. Thunder boomed where no one could hear it. What happened in the cloud, stayed in the cloud.
For now.
24
The Ultimate Test, Day One
The four Unbreakables met by the flagpole before school. “Don’t worry, Maurecia,” said Joy. “When you get sent back to kindergarten, I will
still be your friend.”
“Thanks,” said Maurecia. “I know you’ll do great. Nobody can jump rope like you can.”
“True,” Joy agreed.
“And Ron’s memorized every page in the dictionary,” said Deedee.
Ron smiled. “Joy’s a good speller too,” he pointed out. “You always get a hundred percent on your spelling tests.”
“True,” Joy agreed.
“And one of Deedee’s legs is shorter than the other,” said Maurecia.
Deedee smiled. “Just lucky I guess,” she admitted.
They locked thumbs and pinkies and shouted, “Unbreakable!”
Maurecia glanced up at the Cloud of Doom, then followed her friends into the school building.
“I hope everyone’s ready,” Mrs. Jewls greeted her class. “You just need to remember everything you’ve ever learned in your whole life.”
The children looked nervously around.
The test would last three days. Each day would have several minor tests, and one Major Event. On day one, the Major Event was a spelling bee.
“You mean we have to spell the words out loud?” asked Joy.
“That’s how a spelling bee works,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Joy did a lot better when she could write the words. She was a master of fudge-squiggles. If she didn’t know the letter, she made a fudge-squiggle that could have been any number of letters. Mrs. Jewls always gave her the benefit of the doubt.
All the children stood along the wall as they waited for their turns. If they missed a word, they would have to sit down.
Mac couldn’t spell curious. Leslie missed squawked. Jason went out on confidential.
“Dilly-dally,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“Dilly-dally,” Todd repeated. He got every letter right, but left out the hyphen.
“It’s not even a letter,” he protested, when Mrs. Jewls told him to sit down.
Jenny missed skateboard.
Joy was next.
“Helicopter,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“Helicopter,” Joy repeated. “H-e-l—” She was stuck. She didn’t know if there was one or two l’s, and she didn’t know if the letter after that was an e or an i. If she could have written it, she could have made the perfect fudge-squiggles to cover all the possibilities.
She returned to her seat.
Deedee was eliminated on eliminated. A short leg didn’t help with spelling.