Case File 13 #3 by J. Scott Savage Page B

the other, as long as they didn’t spend another day solving for x, y, and z and trying to change upside-down fractions into integers.
    But just before the bell rang, Ms. Schoepf came bustling through the door, her arms loaded down with a large black case and several bags. “Sorry I’m late.”
    The substitute, a tall, bony woman with frizzy hair, got up from behind Ms. Schoepf’s desk. “I thought you were out sick.”
    â€œI was,” Ms. Schoepf said. “But I’m feeling fine now.”
    Carter leaned over to Nick and whispered, “What’s that she’s carrying?”
    Nick studied the black case. It looked sort of like a guitar. But as far as he knew, Ms. Schoepf didn’t play any instruments. In fact, she’d once mentioned wishing that she’d been born with even an ounce of musical talent.
    The substitute teacher looked flustered. She straightened her glasses and tugged at her skirt. “I drove all the way across town to get here. Who’s going to pay me for my time?”
    â€œTalk to the principal,” Ms. Schoepf said. “I’m sure she’ll work it all out. It’s really none of my concern.”
    Nick felt bad for the woman as she gathered up her things and left. It wasn’t like Ms. Schoepf to be so rude. Especially to someone who’d been doing her a favor by filling in.
    As soon as the sub was out the door, Ms. Schoepf whipped open the black case. It was a guitar. “Boys and girls,” she said, sitting on her desk and resting the guitar on her lap, “why do you think you’ve been struggling so much with math?”
    Angelo raised his hand. “Because people haven’t been doing their homework?”
    â€œI did my homework,” said a boy with red hair. “I do my homework every day.”
    â€œWhatever,” Nick muttered. Rob Wells was the biggest liar in sixth grade and everyone knew it. Nick raised his hand. “I think it’s the variables. If we could just stick with numbers and leave out the letters, it would be a lot easier.”
    â€œAll good answers,” Ms. Schoepf said. “But I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I’ve decided that math would be much more interesting if we put it to music.”
    â€œYou mean like scales and time signatures?” Dana asked. “Math and music have a lot more in common than many people realize.”
    â€œActually,” Ms. Schoepf said, “I was thinking more of the driving beat of hard rock, with the mind-numbing chords of acoustic guitar.” She shook back her head, ran her fingers through her hair, strummed a series of chords that didn’t go together, and burst into singing that could best be described as excruciating.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Compound fractions are a total pain.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  I can’t find all the values in the right domain.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  A coefficient matrix sets my heart on fire.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  But a common logarithm sends me higher, higher, higher!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Domain, double root, conjugated pair.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â  Complex number formulas, I see them everywhere.
    Sitting in their desks, the kids stared in shock and a little bit of horror. Nick didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so terrible in his life. Not only could Ms. Schoepf not play at all, but Nick didn’t think the guitar was even in tune.
    Angie put her hands over her ears. “Is this some kind of joke?”
    â€œI once heard a cat get its head get stuck in a rain gutter,” Carter said, raising his voice to be heard over the teacher’s screaming. “It sounded much better than this.”
    Kimber Tidwell raised her hand and shouted, “Can I go to the nurse again?”
    â€œButton it up, Buttercup!” Ms. Schoepf yelled, still strumming wildly. “I’ve got six more verses.”
    The rest of the day didn’t get