centuries,” she said. “In ancient times, sailors believed in sea serpents. And —”
SNAP.
The same window shade zipped back up to the top.
Mrs. H gasped and dove to the window. She tugged it down and held it there for a few seconds. Then she returned to the front of her desk, rolling the rabbit’s foot in her hand.
SNAP.
The shade flipped back up. Everyone laughed. Sunlight poured over the front of the room.
I hid the dog whistle under my desk. She hadn’t seen me blow it. She had no idea what a mechanical genius Michael Munroe is.
Yeah, I’m real good with tech stuff. People don’t expect it, because I’m Monster, the big hulk of a dude who is always getting into trouble.
But I’ve got a lot of skill with computers and all kinds of tech stuff.
Before class, I rigged the window shade. I put a tiny receiver on it. The dog whistle sent high-pitched sound waves to the receiver. Sound waves that humans can’t hear. And the sound made the window shade go flying up.
SNAP.
I did it again. Just to upset Mrs. H and get everyone laughing. Then I hid the whistle behind my textbook.
Mrs. Hardesty scratched her head. “Why does that shade keep going up?” she asked.
“Maybe an
evil spirit
is doing it!” DeWayne said.
He knew I was doing it. But he liked to torture her, too.
“Owooooo.”
He made a nice ghost howl.
Mrs. Hardesty’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t think it was funny. She was squeezing that lucky rabbit’s foot
flat!
“One should never joke about evil spirits,” she said. Her voice trembled.
She kept a jar of black powder on her desk. She reached into the jar, pulled out a handful, and tossed it over her shoulder.
Is she the weirdest teacher on earth or
what?
We’re always trying to figure out what the black powder is. Daisy thinks it’s ground-up bat wings. DeWayne says it’s powdered eye of newt. He learned about eye of newt in one of the scary books he’s always reading.
Mrs. Hardesty tugged the window shade down and examined it carefully. I hoped she wouldn’t spot the little receiver I’d planted there.
She returned to the front of the class. I raised my dog whistle and prepared to blow it again.
OOPS.
The whistle slipped out of my hand. I made a wild grab for it. But it bounced off my desk, hit the floor, and rolled halfway to Mrs. Hardesty.
Did she see it?
Yes.
She squinted at it, then raised her eyes to me.
“Uh … am I in trouble?” I asked.
3
Yes, I was in trouble. She made me come back to class after school.
Outside, rain clouds covered the sky. That made the classroom even darker than before.
Mrs. Hardesty had two tall white candles flickering on her desk. She was leaning over them, whispering to herself, when I dragged myself in.
“Mrs. Hardesty, I’m sorry about the whistle thing,” I said. “But I can’t stay after school.”
She kept whispering for a long while, her eyes shut. The candle smoke floated over her face, but she didn’t seem to mind it.
Finally, she looked up at me. Her skin appeared gray and powdery in the candlelight. “Of course you will stay, Michael.”
“No. Really,” I said. “I can’t. I’ll miss wrestling practice.”
Monster Munroe is the captain of the wrestling team. Who else?
“Sit down, Michael,” Mrs. H said. She pointed to a chair. “I want you to wrestle with your thoughts.”
I let out a groan. “I can’t go to practice?”
She reached into her jar and tossed a little black powder over her shoulder. “Sit down,” she said.
I sat down. I threw my backpack angrily to the floor. I muttered some bad words under my breath.
I had that burning feeling in my chest. The feeling I get when someone is making me really mad.
Mrs. Hardesty blew out the candles. She seemed to inhale the smoke. “Michael, do you think it’s smart to make a fool of your teacher?” she asked.
“I really didn’t have to try!” I blurted out.
OOPS. I did it again. Why can’t I ever shut my trap?
I heard kids
SNAP.
The same window shade zipped back up to the top.
Mrs. H gasped and dove to the window. She tugged it down and held it there for a few seconds. Then she returned to the front of her desk, rolling the rabbit’s foot in her hand.
SNAP.
The shade flipped back up. Everyone laughed. Sunlight poured over the front of the room.
I hid the dog whistle under my desk. She hadn’t seen me blow it. She had no idea what a mechanical genius Michael Munroe is.
Yeah, I’m real good with tech stuff. People don’t expect it, because I’m Monster, the big hulk of a dude who is always getting into trouble.
But I’ve got a lot of skill with computers and all kinds of tech stuff.
Before class, I rigged the window shade. I put a tiny receiver on it. The dog whistle sent high-pitched sound waves to the receiver. Sound waves that humans can’t hear. And the sound made the window shade go flying up.
SNAP.
I did it again. Just to upset Mrs. H and get everyone laughing. Then I hid the whistle behind my textbook.
Mrs. Hardesty scratched her head. “Why does that shade keep going up?” she asked.
“Maybe an
evil spirit
is doing it!” DeWayne said.
He knew I was doing it. But he liked to torture her, too.
“Owooooo.”
He made a nice ghost howl.
Mrs. Hardesty’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t think it was funny. She was squeezing that lucky rabbit’s foot
flat!
“One should never joke about evil spirits,” she said. Her voice trembled.
She kept a jar of black powder on her desk. She reached into the jar, pulled out a handful, and tossed it over her shoulder.
Is she the weirdest teacher on earth or
what?
We’re always trying to figure out what the black powder is. Daisy thinks it’s ground-up bat wings. DeWayne says it’s powdered eye of newt. He learned about eye of newt in one of the scary books he’s always reading.
Mrs. Hardesty tugged the window shade down and examined it carefully. I hoped she wouldn’t spot the little receiver I’d planted there.
She returned to the front of the class. I raised my dog whistle and prepared to blow it again.
OOPS.
The whistle slipped out of my hand. I made a wild grab for it. But it bounced off my desk, hit the floor, and rolled halfway to Mrs. Hardesty.
Did she see it?
Yes.
She squinted at it, then raised her eyes to me.
“Uh … am I in trouble?” I asked.
3
Yes, I was in trouble. She made me come back to class after school.
Outside, rain clouds covered the sky. That made the classroom even darker than before.
Mrs. Hardesty had two tall white candles flickering on her desk. She was leaning over them, whispering to herself, when I dragged myself in.
“Mrs. Hardesty, I’m sorry about the whistle thing,” I said. “But I can’t stay after school.”
She kept whispering for a long while, her eyes shut. The candle smoke floated over her face, but she didn’t seem to mind it.
Finally, she looked up at me. Her skin appeared gray and powdery in the candlelight. “Of course you will stay, Michael.”
“No. Really,” I said. “I can’t. I’ll miss wrestling practice.”
Monster Munroe is the captain of the wrestling team. Who else?
“Sit down, Michael,” Mrs. H said. She pointed to a chair. “I want you to wrestle with your thoughts.”
I let out a groan. “I can’t go to practice?”
She reached into her jar and tossed a little black powder over her shoulder. “Sit down,” she said.
I sat down. I threw my backpack angrily to the floor. I muttered some bad words under my breath.
I had that burning feeling in my chest. The feeling I get when someone is making me really mad.
Mrs. Hardesty blew out the candles. She seemed to inhale the smoke. “Michael, do you think it’s smart to make a fool of your teacher?” she asked.
“I really didn’t have to try!” I blurted out.
OOPS. I did it again. Why can’t I ever shut my trap?
I heard kids
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