Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom

by Louis Sachar

  After a while, only three students remained: John, Ron, and Maurecia.

  “Spectacle,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “Spectacle,” John repeated. “S-k-e-p-t-i-c-a-l.”

  Only Ron and Maurecia remained.

  “Orchestra,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Murmurs could be heard around the room. Nobody thought Ron could do it.

  “Orchestra,” Ron repeated, and then spelled it perfectly.

  “Vacuum,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Maurecia wasn’t sure if there were two c’s and one u, or two u’s and one c, but she guessed right.

  Mrs. Jewls closed her dictionary. “Well, that’s all the dictionary words,” she announced. “I guess I’ll have to use words that aren’t in the dictionary.”

  It was Ron’s turn.

  “Thruppledub,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Ron had memorized the entire dictionary. How was he supposed to spell un-dictionary words? “May I have the definition?” he asked.

  “It’s when you count to three, and fall asleep in the middle,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Ron said, then correctly spelled the nonword.

  “Fudge-squiggle,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Maurecia spelled it perfectly. She even included the hyphen, having learned from Todd’s earlier mistake.

  “Whummph,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Again Ron asked for the definition.

  “It’s the sound made by a jump rope as it brushes against the ground,” explained Mrs. Jewls.

  Ron gave it his best shot. “W-h-u-m-p-h.”

  “I’m sorry, Ron,” said Mrs. Jewls. “There are two m’s in whummph.”

  “I win!” Maurecia exclaimed.

  The class cheered.

  Ron felt cheated. If it’s a made-up word, who gets to decide the number of m’s?

  Maurecia’s smile was big and bright.

  Ron was not smiling.

  25

  Jump Rope Arithmetic

  On day two, the Major Event was Jump Rope Arithmetic. It is just what you’d expect from the name. The children had to answer arithmetic problems while jumping rope.

  They earned one point for each jump of a rope. They could choose either to use one rope, or two at a time. Two ropes were harder, but the points added up more quickly.

  If they answered a problem wrong, or tripped over a rope, they were done.

  Joy, of course, chose two ropes. This was her special talent, like Joe’s upside-down “Jingle Bells,” or Dana’s funny faces.

  “Four plus seven?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  Whummph. “Eleven,” replied Joy. Whummph.

  Two points, and she’d only had to answer one question.

  Whummph. “Three times nine?” Whummph.

  “Twenty”—whummph—“seven.” Whummph.

  She continued with ease, skipping lightly over the ropes while rattling off answers. Louis and Miss Nogard turned the ropes for her.

  Miss Nogard was everyone’s favorite substitute teacher, especially Louis’s.

  By the time Joy reached sixty-five points, nearly everybody else in her class had finished jumping.

  Ron had earned twenty-three points.

  Deedee only got to six. Jumping rope wasn’t easy for her, since one leg was shorter than the other.

  D.J. had the highest score so far, with eighty-four points.

  In the history of the Ultimate Test, nobody had ever broken a hundred.

  Whummph-whummph.

  “Twelve divided by four?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

  Whummph-whummph. “Three,” said Joy. Whummph-whummph.

  A circle of children had formed around her. They cheered each correct answer.

  “Go, Joy, go!” shouted Mac.

  When she reached eighty points, even Mrs. Jewls started to get excited.

  “Thirty-eight”—whummph—“plus fourteen?” Whummph.

  “Fifty-two!” Whummph-whummph.

  She was now tied with D.J.!

  “One hundred and”—whummph—“forty-three”—whummph—“divided by” —whummph—“eleven?”

  “Thirteen!”

  Everyone took up Mac’s call. “Go, Joy, go! Go, Joy, go!” they chanted.

  Louis’s and Miss Nogard’s arms were getting tired, but they continued to twirl the ropes. They knew they were a part of history.

  Joy was now up to ninety-nine!

  “Go, Joy, go! Go, Joy, go!”

  Whummph-whummph. “Twenty-nine times four?” shouted Mrs. Jewls.

  Whummph-whummph. “One hundred and sixteen,” Joy easily answered.

  Everyone whooped and hollered. “That’s a new world record!” exclaimed Deedee.

  Whummph-whummph. “Six times seven?”

  Whummphraaaapp!

  Joy lay sprawled across the blacktop. Sixes and sevens always tripped her up.

  Still, she had broken one hundred, and set a new world record!

  Her classmates rushed up to her.

  “You’re the best ever!” said Kathy.

  “True,” Joy agreed.

  There was one jumper left.

  Whummph.

  “Sixteen minus eleven?”

  Whummph.

  “Five,” said Maurecia.

  Maurecia used only one rope. Miss Mush and Mr. Pepperadder turned it for her.

  She jumped with both feet at the same time, and held her breath every time she jumped.

  Whummph.

  “Nine times eight?”

  Whummph.

  “Seventy-two.”

  Whummph.

  Joy continued to lie on the blacktop as she listened to the slow whummphing. She imagined the solid gold trophy with her name on it. Her picture would be in newspapers all around the world. She’d go on TV, where famous people would ask her questions about jumping rope and arithmetic. Maybe they’d put her in a movie.

  When she came out of her daydream, she was surprised to hear the jump rope still whummphing.

  “Zero times a thousand.”

  Whummph.

  “Zero.”

  Joy sat up to see that a circle of kids had surrounded Maurecia. They cheered every one of her answers.

  Whummph.

  She headed over and poked Todd in the back of his neck. “What’s her score so far?”

  “Sixty-six,” he told her.

  Joy wasn’t too worried. She was sure her best friend would whummphraaaappp at any moment.

  She didn’t start to worry until Maurecia reached eighty.

  Whummph.

  “Sixteen times seventeen.”

  Whummph.

  “Two hundred and seventy-two.”

  Whummph.

  Well, sure, Joy thought bitterly. Sixteens and seventeens were a lot easier than sixes and sevens.

  In the end, Maurecia whummphraaaapped on an easy one, two plus three.

  She was probably just tired. She had been jumping for almost an hour and had earned 211 points.

  Joy didn’t see her fall. She had quit watching long before.

  26

  The Ultimate, Ultimate Test

  Yes, that’s two ultimates.

  The word ultimate has two meanings. It could mean final, or it could mean most important.

  The Stairway Quiz was both. It was the final event of the third day, and it counted double.

  The students were worn out before they started. They’d already had the science crawl, right and left handwriting, animal imitations, upside-down singing, and blindfolded smelling.

  The Stairway Quiz would require knowledge, stamina, and most important, speed.

  This was Deedee’s special talent.

  Deedee was a pretty fast runner on flat ground, but she was even faster going up and down stairs. That was because her left leg was a little bit shorter than her right leg. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, it gave her an obvious advantage.

  Louis, the yard teacher, stood next to the bottom step. “On your mark!” he called out. “Get set!”<
br />
  Louis blew his whistle.

  The children rushed past him, knees pumping and elbows flailing.

  Deedee started way back in the pack, but besides her uneven legs, she had another advantage. She was skinny and short. She could squeeze past the slower kids ahead of her.

  And they were all slower than Deedee.

  As she neared the third floor, only Dameon remained ahead of her.

  A man with a black mustache was waiting on the landing.

  “How many quarts in a gallon?” he asked Dameon.

  “Eight,” said Dameon.

  Dameon was sent back down to the first floor.

  “Name a city in England,” he said to Deedee.

  “London!” Deedee shouted, then continued on up.

  Dr. Pickle was waiting on the fourth floor. “Are dreams real?” he asked.

  Deedee was stumped. She could hear other kids charging up the stairs behind her. She hated to have to go back down.

  “They’re real dreams,” she said.

  Dr. Pickle rubbed his beard. “Very interesting answer,” he said, and let her pass.

  By the time she reached the ninth floor, she could only hear distant footsteps behind her.

  “What do you call someone who writes books?” asked Mrs. Surlaw.

  “You don’t call them,” said Deedee. “You must never interrupt a great author during her moment of inspiration.”

  “I think you said the correct answer in there somewhere,” the librarian decided.

  On the twelfth floor, the man with the mustache was waiting again. Deedee wondered how he had gotten ahead of her.

  “Name the largest river in the United States.”

  Deedee couldn’t remember its name, but she knew how to spell it. “M-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i!”

  Miss Mush asked the question on the fifteenth floor. “How many points on a fork?”

  Deedee formed a picture of a fork in her mind, but when she tried to count the points, they blurred.

  “Three?” she tried.

  “I’m so sorry, Deedee,” said Miss Mush.

  She didn’t have to go all the way back down to the bottom, just to the tenth.

  Ron was coming up the other way. “Hi, Deedee,” he greeted her.

  “Hi, Ron,” said Deedee. “Hope you studied your forks and spoons?”

  She reached the tenth, answered another question there, then again on the eleventh and twelfth.

  Ron was coming down.

  “Hi, Ron.”

  “Hi, Deedee.”

  She reached Miss Mush a second time.

  “What was Christopher Columbus’s favorite vegetable?” asked the lunch lady.

  Deedee knew that one. “Cabbage!”

  She had spent two whole nights studying the history of cabbage.

  When she reached the eighteenth floor, the man with the mustache was there again.

  “Are zebras black with white stripes, or white with black stripes?”

  Deedee thought it was the same thing, but knew that had to be wrong. “The first one,” she guessed.

  “Was that white with black stripes, or black with white stripes?”

  “I don’t remember,” said Deedee.

  “Me neither,” the man admitted, and let her pass.

  A tall, thin woman asked the next question. She looked like a teacher, but Deedee had never seen her before. Strangely, the woman had one very long fingernail on her pinky.

  “Please recite the alphabet backward.”

  Deedee had to close her eyes to concentrate. “Z, Y, X . . .”

  It took her a long time. In her mind, Deedee had to keep saying the alphabet forward, in order to figure out the next backward letter.

  She could hear footsteps coming closer, and then Maurecia came up alongside her.

  “What are you stopping for?” Maurecia asked.

  Deedee looked around. The woman with the long fingernail was gone. “C, B A!” she finished, just in case.

  Deedee and Maurecia continued up together, reaching the twentieth floor at the same time. The mustache man was back again.

  “How many toes does a three-toed sloth have?” he asked.

  That had to be the easiest question yet, thought Deedee. “Three,” she said.

  “Twelve,” said Maurecia.

  Deedee was sent back down to the fifteenth floor.

  Now she really had to turn on the jets. She leaped around and over the other kids on her way down, and then, using her uneven legs, she practically flew back up the stairs, as she answered all the questions correctly.

  She shot past Maurecia between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors, answered a question about the different kinds of dirt, and then finally reached the top of the stairs where Mrs. Jewls was waiting.

  “How many points on a fork?” Mrs. Jewls asked.

  “I already had that question,” Deedee said as she took several long deep breaths. Her heart was pounding.

  “Good, then you know the answer.”

  Once again, Deedee tried to picture a fork in her mind. It was either three or four.

  “Twelve!” she declared, still confused about the sloth, with its three toes and four feet.

  She trudged back down.

  “Hi, Deedee,” said Maurecia on her way up.

  Deedee didn’t say hi back.

  After school, only three of the Unbreakables could be seen by the flagpole.

  Maurecia was still inside the school. Photographers were snapping her picture, and she was being questioned by newspaper reporters from all around the world.

  When she finally came outside, she was carrying a giant trophy.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she said.

  “You must think you’re really great,” said Joy.

  Maurecia shrugged.

  “Well, you should!” said Ron.

  “Because you are!” said Deedee.

  Maurecia set down her trophy and said, “You guys are the greatest friends ever!”

  They held out their hands, locked pinkies and thumbs, and shouted, “Unbreakable!”

  Friends stick by each other when one is down. That is a true test of friendship.

  But sometimes, it is harder to stick by a friend who is up.

  That is the ultimate test of friendship.

  27

  Kachooga Boop

  The Ultimate Test was over, and nobody was sent back to kindergarten. Mrs. Jewls had made up the test so that every one of her students had a chance to shine, using his or her special talent.

  “Anyone with nail clippings?” she asked.

  Myron came to the front of the room and dropped thirty-seven clippings into the nail bucket. Nineteen came from toes, and eighteen from fingers. He started to do the math on the board.

  999,962

  + 37

  9

  He was suddenly startled by a very loud kachooga boop! He dropped the chalk.

  This was a bell nobody in the class had heard before, not even Mrs. Jewls.

  Then came another kachooga, followed by two boops.

  “What’s it mean, Mrs. Jewls?” shouted Leslie.

  “Everybody keep calm,” said Mrs. Jewls.

  Kachooga boop! Boop! Boop!

  Mrs. Jewls hurried to the back closet.

  It started up again.

  Kachooga boop!

  Kachooga boop! Boop!

  Mrs. Jewls threw open the closet door and started tossing books and supplies out of the way.

  Kachooga boop! Boop! Boop!

  She finally removed a very large book, covered with dust.

  “The Complete Guide to Bells,” said Terrence, reading the book’s title over Mrs. Jewls’s shoulder.

  Mrs. Jewls sat on the floor, turning the pages until she got to the index. The kachooga booping continued, making it difficult for her to concentrate.

  She found it. “Kachooga boop—page 297.” She quickly turned to that page.

  Suddenly, a loud BOOM shook the classroom. The lights went o
ut.

  This time nobody screamed. They were too scared.

  Mrs. Jewls lit a candle. In the flickering light, she read aloud from page 297.

  “If you hear a kachooga, followed by one, two, and then three boops, you should . . .” She stopped and blew a cloud of dust off the page, then tried to find where she had left off. “. . . one, two, and then three boops, you should run for your lives. A Cloud of Doom is about to destroy everything.” She dropped the book. “Everybody outside!” she ordered.

  Another BOOM shook the classroom so hard that the clock fell off the wall.

  The children ran to the door, but it wouldn’t open.

  “The paper clip closet must have fallen over!” said Dameon. “It’s blocking the door!”

  “Paper clip closet?” asked Mrs. Jewls. She glared at Jason.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Jason couldn’t keep a secret.

  Todd, Maurecia, Dameon, and Allison all pushed together, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  “Let Stephen in there,” urged Kathy. “He’s been doing all those push-downs.”

  With Stephen’s help, they pushed the door open.

  Sirens wailed from the closet, which lay on the ground. A smoke screen filled the area.

  In the light of Mrs. Jewls’s candle, they could see that the chains and steel bar had been shattered. Paper clips were strewn all over the floor.

  Benjamin and Rondi started picking them up.

  “Leave them!” shouted Mrs. Jewls.

  Now they knew it was serious.

  Mrs. Jewls told everyone to hold hands as she led the way down the staircase.

  Paul grabbed Leslie’s pigtail.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “It’s either that or your hand,” he said.

  “Okay, then,” Leslie agreed.

  The kachooga booping continued as more loud booms shook the school.

  A gust of wind blew out Mrs. Jewls’s candle, and the class continued down in darkness.

  Joe stepped on a skateboard, which somebody had left in the middle of the stairs. He fell, pulling John down with him. Who pulled down Dana. Who pulled down Jenny. Who pulled down Rondi. Who pulled down Terrence. The chain reaction ended with Dameon pulling down Mrs. Jewls.

  The class lay sprawled across the stairs as the school shook around them.

  “We’re doomed!” Mac wailed.

  “Look!” exclaimed Bebe.

  A door had opened, and there was a light coming from inside a classroom.