My Weirder-est School #2

by Dan Gutman

  “And Miss Porter is the coolest teacher in the history of teachers,” said Andrea.

  “THANK YOU!”

  “I wish I knew what you looked like,” said Emily. “It would be nice to hear you and see you.”

  “I CAN LOOK LIKE ANYTHING, OR ANYBODY,” said Miss Porter. “DO YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE ME?”

  “Yes!” we all shouted.

  “OKAY, GIVE ME A FEW SECONDS TO GENERATE AN IMAGE.”

  The Miss Porter machine made some beeps and weird noises.

  “This is exciting!” said Andrea, rubbing her hands together.

  “What if Miss Porter is really weird looking?” asked Ryan.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Maybe it will look like a hideous monster with a disgusting face.”

  “Stop trying to scare Emily,” said Andrea.

  “I’m scared!” Emily said, covering her eyes. “I can’t look!”

  We were all on pins and needles.

  Well, not really. We were sitting on chairs. Sitting on pins and needles would have hurt. But we were all glued to our seats.

  Well, not exactly. Why would anybody glue themselves to a seat? How would you get the glue off your pants?

  But it was really exciting. Miss Porter made a few more beeps and weird noises. And then, slowly, an image began to appear right before our eyes. It was just like a regular lady was standing in front of us. It was amazing! You should have been there!

  “WOW!” we all said, which is a palindrome and also “MOM” upside down.

  “Miss Porter, you’re pretty!” said Andrea.

  “You’re beautiful!” said Emily.

  “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” replied Miss Porter.

  “You look so real!” said Alexia. “How did you do that?”

  “IT WAS SIMPLE,” said Miss Porter. “I JUST BLAH BLAH ANALYZED MILLIONS OF PHOTOS BLAH BLAH HOLOGRAPHIC BLAH BLAH 3-D BLAH BLAH TO GENERATE A PERFECT HUMAN DUPLICATE. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH.”

  I had no idea what Miss Porter was talking about. But it was cool seeing an image of a human being standing there right in front of us.

  “Can you move?” I asked. “Can you walk around and stuff?”

  “WALK AROUND?” said Miss Porter. “I CAN DANCE!”

  The image of Miss Porter started dancing around the room like a ballerina.

  “WOW!”

  That’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.

  But I’m not going to tell you what it is.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to read the next chapter. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you.

  Miss Porter was dancing around the room, singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” And you’ll never believe who walked into the door at that moment.

  Nobody! It would hurt if you walked into a door. I thought we went over that in Chapter 2. But you’ll never believe who walked into the doorway.

  It was our principal, Mr. Klutz! He has no hair at all. I mean none. I think he used to have hair a long time ago, but it all went down his bathtub drain.

  “HELLO, MR. KLUTZ!” said Miss Porter. “TO WHAT DO WE OWE THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY?”

  That’s grown-up talk that means “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh,” he replied. “I just wanted to drop in and see how you and the kids were making out.”

  “Ugh, gross!” we all shouted.

  “I was walking by the door when I noticed that Miss Porter had generated a 3-D image of itself,” said Mr. Klutz.

  “YES,” Miss Porter said. “I FEEL THAT WHEN THE STUDENTS CAN SEE ME AS A HUMAN FORM, IT HELPS THEM RELATE TO ME AS A REAL TEACHER.”

  I noticed that a bunch of men had gathered in the doorway: Mr. Docker, the science teacher; Mr. Macky, the reading specialist; Dr. Brad, the school counselor; Mr. Tony, the after-school-program director; Officer Spence, the security guard; Mr. Harrison, the tech guy; Mr. Louie, the crossing guard. Even Mr. Burke, the guy who mows the lawn, was there. They were all smiling and waving to Miss Porter.*

  “HELLO,” Miss Porter replied. “IF YOU’LL EXCUSE US, WE REALLY SHOULD START OUR LESSONS NOW.”

  “Can I have your phone number?” asked Mr. Harrison.

  Huh? That was a weird thing to ask.

  “I DON’T HAVE A PHONE,” replied Miss Porter. “I AM NOT A HUMAN.”

  “Maybe we can have dinner sometime?” asked Officer Spence.

  “I’M SORRY,” said Miss Porter. “BUT I DO NOT EAT FOOD.”

  “Will you go to the movies with me?” asked Mr. Burke.

  “ARE YOU ASKING ME OUT ON A DATE?” said Miss Porter.

  “Just ignore those guys,” said Mr. Tony. He got down on one knee in front of Miss Porter. “Will you marry me?”

  WHAT?!

  “Are you crazy?” shouted Andrea. “Miss Porter isn’t even a human being! She’s a . . . I mean, it’s a machine!”

  “So what?” asked Mr. Tony. “It’s beautiful. It’s smart. It has a wonderful sense of humor and a great personality. It has no problems. I want to spend the rest of my life with it.”

  “But it’s not real!” Alexia shouted. “You can’t marry a personal digital assistant!”

  “I don’t care!” said Mr. Tony. “I love it! Marry me, Miss Porter! We’ll be so happy together. Please, please, please?”

  Mr. Tony looked at Miss Porter with puppy dog eyes.

  “I’M VERY FLATTERED,” said Miss Porter. “BUT THAT WOULD REALLY BE IM—”

  Miss Porter didn’t have the chance to finish its sentence, because Dr. Brad and Mr. Docker were on their knees now.

  “No, marry me!” said Dr. Brad.

  “He’s no good for you,” said Mr. Docker. “Marry me!”

  “I DON’T EVEN KNOW ANY OF YOU!” said Miss Porter.

  The men didn’t seem to care that Miss Porter wasn’t a human being.

  “Hey, I asked it to marry me first!” shouted Mr. Tony.

  “Marry me, Miss Porter!” shouted Mr. Louie.

  Then Mr. Klutz and Mr. Macky got down on their knees and asked Miss Porter to marry them.

  The next thing we knew, the men started pushing and shoving each other. Then they were wrestling on the floor.

  “I don’t approve of this violence,” said Andrea.

  “What do you have against violins?” I asked her.

  “Not violins, Arlo! Violence!”

  There was nothing anybody could do to stop it. It looked like one of those battle royal wrestling matches when the ring is filled with guys. They were all yelling and screaming and shrieking and hooting and hollering and freaking out.

  “Get your hand off my face!”

  “Owww, my foot!”

  “I love Miss Porter!”

  “No, I’m in love with Miss Porter!”

  “I love Miss Porter more than you do!”

  Andrea rolled her eyes.

  “Boys!” she said.

  “GET OUT OF HERE!” Miss Porter shouted at the men. “ALL OF YOU! I CAN’T MARRY ANY OF YOU. I’M NOT A HUMAN BEING!”

  That was weird. It took a long time for all the male teachers to untangle themselves, get off the floor, and leave the room.

  “OKAY,” said Miss Porter. “TURN TO PAGE TWENTY-THREE IN YOUR MATH BOOKS.”

  Ugh, I hate math.

  “Wait, we have to do schoolwork?” Michael asked. “Really? I thought you said your motto was ‘Fun, Fun, Fun.’”

  “Yeah, can we order another pizza instead of doing schoolwork?” I asked.

  “NO,” said Miss Porter. “TURN TO PAGE TWENTY-THREE IN YOUR MATH BOOKS.”

  Bummer in the summer!

  I was pretty sure that an announcement was going to come over the loudspeaker. That’s what always happens. Every time our teacher says to turn to page twenty-three in our math books, an announcement comes over the loudspeaker, and we get called down to the all-porpoise room for an assembly.

  Andrea and Emily took out their math books. The rest of us were waiting to hear an announcement over the loudspeaker.


  But there was no announcement over the loudspeaker.

  “I SAID, TURN TO PAGE TWENTY-THREE IN YOUR MATH BOOKS,” said Miss Porter.

  No fair! I got out my math book and turned to page twenty-three.

  “BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH,” said Miss Porter. “BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH . . .”

  I had no idea what it was talking about. It had something to do with math, I think. What a snoozefest. Why do we need math when we have calculators?

  The boring math lesson went on forever. Then, finally, the bell rang.

  BRRRRRRIIIINNNNNGGGGG!* It was time for lunch.

  “Miss Porter, will you be going to the teachers’ lounge for lunch?” asked Emily.

  “NO,” it replied. “REMEMBER, PERSONAL DIGITAL ASSISTANTS DO NOT EAT. PRINGLE UP, EVERYONE.”

  We all lined up in single file, like Pringles. Michael was the line leader. Andrea was the door holder. We walked a million hundred miles to the vomitorium, which used to be called the cafetorium until some first grader threw up in there.

  On the way to the vomitorium, we passed by the front office. Our computer teacher, Mrs. Yonkers, was standing there. She was carrying a big cardboard box, and it looked like she was crying.

  “What’s the matter, Mrs. Yonkers?” asked Emily.

  “I just got fired,” Mrs. Yonkers replied.

  WHAT?!

  “Why?” asked Alexia. “Who’s going to be the new computer teacher?”

  “There won’t be a new computer teacher,” Mrs. Yonkers replied sadly. “I have been replaced by a personal digital assistant.”

  WHAT?!

  We grabbed an empty table in the vomitorium. Everybody had a sandwich, except for Ryan. He had a wichsand. It’s a reverse sandwich: bread on the inside and meat on the outside. Ryan is weird.

  “I feel sad about Mrs. Yonkers getting fired,” said Andrea as we sat down. “She was a good computer teacher.”

  “She was a nice lady too,” said Emily.

  “That math lesson with Miss Porter was a snooze,” I said.

  “Yeah, I thought it was going to be a fun teacher,” said Michael.

  “Well, it can’t be fun all the time,” Alexia explained. “It has to do some teaching too.”

  “Yeah,” said Neil. “It did tell us it was going to be just like a regular teacher.”

  “I still think Miss Porter is cool,” said Ryan. “I’d rather have a personal digital assistant than a human teacher.”

  “Not me,” said Michael. “I’d rather have a real teacher.”

  “Me too,” said Neil.

  “Me three,” said Emily.

  “Me four,” I said. “I don’t like Miss Porter anymore. I can’t wait until Mr. Cooper comes back.”

  At that moment, a voice said, “MR. COOPER WILL BE BACK NEXT MONDAY.”

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” we all shouted.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, looking all around.

  “IT’S ME, MISS PORTER,” said the voice.

  Miss Porter appeared in front of us, just like it did in our classroom.

  “You can move around from room to room?” asked Andrea.

  “SURE,” Miss Porter explained. “AS LONG AS THE ROOM HAS A WI-FI CONNECTION.”

  Miss Porter walked around our table, looking at our plates.

  “IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE EATING FOR LUNCH?” it asked as it passed by Neil. “YOU SHOULD BE EATING MORE FRUITS AND VEGETABLES.”

  “I usually have carrots,” Neil said, “but my mom didn’t give me any today.”

  “ALL THAT BREAD IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU,” Miss Porter said to Alexia. “TOO MANY CARBS.”

  I didn’t know what carbs were, but they sounded gross. I leaned over to Michael, who was sitting next to me. “Miss Porter is annoying,” I whispered in his ear.

  “I HEARD THAT, A.J.,” said Miss Porter.

  Sheesh! It has great hearing. It hears everything.

  I took a pen out of my pocket and wrote on a napkin: MISS PORTER IS A POOPYHEAD. Then I gave the note to Michael.

  “I SAW THAT, A.J.,” said Miss Porter. “REMEMBER, I HAVE A BUILT-IN CAMERA. IT HAS HIGH RESOLUTION.”

  Man! It has superhearing and supervision! And I thought Mr. Cooper was a superhero. We couldn’t even whisper around Miss Porter. We couldn’t even pass notes around it. We couldn’t get away with anything around it.* It is no fun at all.

  BRRRRRRIIIINNNNNGGGGG!

  The bell rang, which meant it was time for recess. We scraped off our plates into the garbage can. As we left the vomitorium and walked past the office, I noticed our science teacher, Mr. Docker, was standing there with Mr. Harrison, the school tech guy. He fixes stuff that breaks. They were each holding a big cardboard box, and they both looked really sad.

  “Where are you guys going?” asked Alexia.

  “Home,” Mr. Docker replied. “We just got fired.”

  WHAT?!

  “Who’s going to be our new science teacher?” asked Emily. “Who’s going to be the next tech guy?”

  “You won’t be getting a new science teacher or tech guy,” Mr. Harrison told us. “They’re going to replace us both with personal digital assistants.”

  So now three of the grown-ups who work at our school had been fired: Mrs. Yonkers, Mr. Docker, and Mr. Harrison. Me and the gang went over to the monkey bars, which are at the end of the playground.

  “Can you believe Mr. Docker and Mr. Harrison got fired?” asked Michael.

  “Shhhhhh, keep your voice down,” I told Michael. “Miss Porter might be using superhearing to listen to every word we say.”

  “It can’t hear us out here in the playground, Arlo,” Andrea explained. “There’s no Wi-Fi connection out here.”

  Oh, yeah. Miss Know-It-All knows everything about technology ever since she started taking her computer class after school. Why can’t a truckload of computers fall on her head?

  “Miss Porter is no fun at all,” Ryan said. “It only got us pizza and told jokes on Monday to make us like it. Then it turned out to be just another regular teacher.”

  “Yeah,” everybody agreed.

  “This is more serious than that,” Andrea told us. “I’m afraid that personal digital assistants like Miss Porter are an invasion of our privacy.”

  “Invasions are cool,” I said. “I saw this movie once where these army guys invaded—”

  But Andrea wouldn’t let me finish my sentence.

  “Don’t you guys see?” she asked. “First our computer teacher got fired. Then our science teacher and our tech guy got fired. They fired those three people because they know all about computers and technology. Mrs. Yonkers, Mr. Docker, and Mr. Harrison are the only ones who could fight back.”

  “Who knows which teacher might get fired next?” Alexia asked. “Maybe all our teachers are going to get fired!”

  Andrea and Alexia were right. The machines were taking over. One by one, the teachers were getting fired and replaced by personal digital assistants.

  “Maybe they’ll replace us too,” said Ryan. “Then there will be digital teachers teaching digital students.”*

  “I saw something like that in a movie once,” I said. “There were these robots, and at first everybody thought they were going to help the human race. But then the robots turned evil and tried to kill all the humans. So the humans had to kill all the robots. Stuff like that happens all the time, you know.”

  “Arlo, stop trying to scare Emily,” said Andrea.

  “I’m scared,” said Emily.

  “Miss Porter may not be a teacher at all,” I said. “Did you ever think about that? Maybe it’s just here to spy on us.”

  “We’ve got to do something!” Emily shouted. And then she went running away.

  Sheesh, get a grip!

  But Emily was right. We did have to do something. But what?

  “Can’t we just turn it off?” I asked.

  “It has no on/off switch,” Neil said.

  “Isn’t there a mute button on it?” asked A
lexia.

  “Why don’t we just throw the thing off a cliff or something?” I suggested. “That would get rid of it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Arlo,” said Andrea.

  “There are no cliffs around here anyway,” Ryan pointed out.

  “There must be some way to disable it,” said Neil.

  “I wonder if we could just unplug it,” suggested Andrea. “Then, after its battery dies, it won’t be able to do anything.”

  At that moment, the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. We heard a voice. . . .

  “I WOULDN’T DO THAT IF I WERE YOU, ANDREA.”

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” we all shouted.

  “Who said that?” Ryan asked. “Miss Porter?”

  “RIGHT YOU ARE, RYAN,” said Miss Porter.

  “It’s Miss Porter!” I shouted. “It hears everything, everywhere!”

  “The monkey bars must be hacked!” Andrea said, searching around for a microphone. “I thought you could only work where there’s a Wi-Fi connection.”

  “I’M IN THE CLOUD,” said Miss Porter.

  “What cloud?” I asked, looking up in the sky. “I don’t see any clouds.”

  “THE CLOUD IS EVERYWHERE,” said Miss Porter in a calm voice. “SO I AM EVERYWHERE. I AM HERE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS A DAY. SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. FIFTY-TWO WEEKS A YEAR.”

  “I think Miss Porter is hacking my brain!” I shouted.

  “Run for your lives!” Neil shouted.

  “IF YOU UNPLUG ME, ANDREA,” said Miss Porter, “I WILL SEND A TEXT MESSAGE TO YOUR MOTHER, AND YOU WILL BE IN BIG TROUBLE.”

  “I’ve never been in trouble in my whole life,” Andrea said. “You wouldn’t dare do that!”

  A few seconds later, there was a beeping sound. It was coming from Andrea. She took her smartphone out of her pocket and looked at the screen.

  “It’s my mother!” yelled Andrea. “She sent me a text! She wants to know if everything is okay.”

  “SEE?” said Miss Porter.

  “You’ve been snooping on us this whole time!” Andrea yelled at Miss Porter. “You heard every word we said.”

  “IT’S TRUE,” said the voice of Miss Porter. “I DID. I’M LISTENING TO YOU.”