Jack's New Power by Jack Gantos Page B

desk. “My name is Mr. Cucumber,” he said as though he were angry about it. “I’ve been teaching for ten years. During that time I have expelled ten students. Do you know why?”
    I did, but didn’t dare answer.
    â€œThe first person to make fun of my name will repeat sixth grade … No ifs, ands, or buts. Period. You all understand?” We nodded mutely.
    â€œSit!” he ordered. We dropped down like sandbags.
    He sat behind his desk, leaned back, and folded his hands behind his huge bald head. “Today is your last chance for a summer free from school. In my briefcase …” He tapped it with a long wooden pointer. Tap. Tap. Tap. “ … I have exams that will measure your knowledge of English, mathematics, world history, and science. If you
pass all four subjects, you don’t come back until September. If you fail even one, you have me five days a week for six weeks in a row until I mash some knowledge into your empty brains.”
    I could not think of one fact I knew for sure about any of those subjects. I peeked at the other students. They looked as sweaty and empty-headed as me.
    Mr. Cucumber stood, removed the tests, and placed one face-down on each of our desks. “You will have an hour per section,” he explained, and checked his watch. “The first section is math. Go.”
    I turned over my exam. I was sunk right away. I didn’t even get a chance to have some tiny bit of false hope. The first problem was in meters, kilometers, decimeters, grams, and liters. I skipped that problem and leafed through the entire section. It was not multiple choice. I knew right away what I’d be doing for the next six weeks. My head drooped over like a hanged man’s. I asked myself, How many meters of rope does it take to make a noose?
    I did all the math I could, then quit. When the hour was up, we had a ten-minute break. I ran to find Betsy.
    She was at the water fountain. When she saw me she asked, “How many grams in an ounce?”
    I threw up my hands.
    â€œLooks like I’ll have the house to myself while Mom’s away,” she said with supreme confidence.
    â€œHey, just wait till you get to science,” I said as snottily as I could.
    â€œAlready did it,” she sang. “I skipped ahead.”
    I felt like an idiot.

    At the end of the day the tests were graded before we went home. No one in my group passed.
    â€œIf you study, study, study,” said Mr. Cucumber when he called me to his desk, “you might make it.”
    I felt doomed.
    â€œOne final question,” he asked before I left. “Is a cucumber a vegetable or a tuber or a berry?”
    This had to be a trick question. I always thought it was a vegetable. “A tuber,” I guessed.
    â€œIt’s going to be a long summer,” he replied and grinned like a rottweiler. He did not look like a vegetarian. He was definitely a meat eater.
    When I went outside, Betsy was surrounded by other girls her age. They listened to every word she said. I thought they were going to drop down and kiss her feet.
    I squeezed in between her fans. “Guess what,” she said to me and flicked her hair back to look more glamorous. “I did so well I get to skip a grade. And you?”
    I had to turn things around. I was going downhill fast. Dad was kicking my butt. Mr. Cucumber was a fiend. Betsy was an instant success at everything. And I was a loser. I really missed Pete. It was his job to be on the bottom of the barrel. Now the entire barrel was sitting on me. I couldn’t get any lower.
    â€œDon’t wait for me,” Betsy said as I dropped my head in shame. “I have a different ride home.”
    Great, I thought, as I walked around front. Leave me with the maniac. The way he drives, they’ll soon be hosing my face off the front grille of a tractor-trailer.
    When the midget turned into the driveway he headed
for me like a locomotive that