Maragold in Fifth Part Two

CHAPTER 11:  DAWN

            When Maragold and Matt signed up for the talent show, they also found that they only had fifteen, not twenty minutes for their magic show performance. Though this news was disappointing¾because even twenty minutes wasn’t very much time¾Maragold fixed the problem by reluctantly eliminating one excellent, but time consuming, rope trick called The Professor’s Nightmare. She also had to eliminate the jokes and gags. That way she and Matt could perform the maximum amount of fast-paced magic tricks in fifteen minutes.

            Now the importance of having a magician’s assistant, who could quickly hand tricks to the magician, as well as take them from the magician, would prove to be quite valuable because very little time would be wasted between tricks.

            Matt had a note from his mom which gave him permission to ride home on the bus with Maragold. They would practice their magic routine every school day, for about an hour, as soon as they arrived at Mara’s home. But the days seemed to go by too quickly for both of them.

            Mr. Shane usually arrived home shortly before Maragold’s bus arrived. He liked to sit in his soft, comfortable, reclining chair and quietly read the newspaper while enjoying a cup of tea. This cherished routine gave him a chance to relax after a tiring and noisy day at school. It also allowed him to be available for any questions or problems that Maragold or Matt might have during their magic practice sessions.

            Mrs. Shane would arrive home about a half-hour after Mr. Shane. She would immediately make a pot of coffee and place two cups, saucers and spoons, on the dining room table, for herself and Mrs. Durkey. Mrs. Shane had invited Mrs. Durkey to come to the house each school-day afternoon for a cup of coffee and a chat session. Mrs. Durkey would usually arrive fifteen or twenty minutes before the end of Mara’s and Matt’s practice sessions. This gave the two women plenty of time for a tasty cup of coffee and a pleasant chat. They were both very pleased that their friendship was growing.

            Finally, after nearly a month of practice, Maragold and Matt thought they had learned the magic show routine well enough to give a very good performance at the talent show. Maragold had practiced her tricks and patter until she knew them quite well and could perform them easily. Matt had learned on which side to approach Maragold, her right or left side, how to hand the tricks to her, how to take the tricks from her, as well as how to walk away from her without blocking the audience’s view. Also, while Maragold was performing, he practiced standing very quietly, and very still, near the prop table, so he wouldn’t be a distraction to the audience, or to Maragold. Matt learned, from Mr. Shane, that the audience’s eyes would almost always be attracted to movement and ignore what was not moving. Matt also learned that magicians used this fact to misdirect the audience’s attention so that the magician could perform some secret action that he wished to hide from the audience. That’s why Matt needed to stand as still as possible, and blend into the background, so that the audience focused their attention on Maragold and not on any movement that he made.

            I watched all their practice sessions right from the first awkward, hesitant one, to the ones they were performing now. After a month of dedicated practice I honestly thought their fast-paced magic routine was very impressive. They both had learned their parts well, and they both worked well together, like gears in a clock. They even looked good together.

            Oh, I forgot to mention that, to Matt’s delight, he would be performing one magic trick himself, while Maragold acted as his assistant. He was both excited and nervous about it because he knew that his mom and dad would be watching, and he wanted to impress them. At first, when he practiced the trick, he was so nervous that his hands would shake. After only a week, he had settled down and was performing the Vanishing Scarf trick quite well. From then on, at each practice session, he got better and better. As his mastery at performing that trick grew, his nervousness faded, and as his nervousness faded, his confidence and excitement grew. He enjoyed learning some of the secrets of magic tricks and was very enthusiastic about learning and performing more of them.

            In the beginning Maragold was a little nervous, too, but not nearly as nervous as Matt had been. She was somewhat nervous because this would be the first magic show where she was the star. Her dad wouldn’t be on stage with her for support and guidance. She was also a little nervous because she not only wanted to perform well for the audience, she also wanted to perform well for her mom and dad who would be coming to the evening show for parents.

            The day before the talent show arrived Maragold and Matt had their last practice session. That final practice went so smoothly that they could have performed their routines blindfolded, thanks to all their dedicated work. After this last practice session, Maragold and Matt carefully packed the magic props inside the magic-theme box that Mr. Shane had let them borrow. A card table with its legs folded was placed near the box. Two seven-feet long strips of cloth, one red and one black, were rolled up with a collapsible, three-legged music stand in the center of the roll. The cloths would be crisscrossed over the card table to make it look appealing, just as Mr. Shane did in his magic shows with Maragold. The music stand would be used to hold a poster that Mr. Shane had made for Maragold and Matt. The colorful poster said: THE MAGIC OF MARA AND MATT at the top, while the center and bottom of the poster was filled by a large, cute picture of a grinning, white rabbit, sitting inside a magician’s black top hat.

            While they were packing, Maragold told Matt that a few years ago, before their magic shows, her dad used to introduce her as “Mara, The Micro-Magician.” She also told Matt how proud, special and loved it had made her feel, and that she would always remember those very special times and feelings that are associated with helping her dad practice for, and perform in, those magic shows.

            Early the next morning Mrs. Durkey and Matt drove to Mara’s house. Both Matt and Maragold were much more nervous now than yesterday. They carefully loaded all the magic show props¾the magic tricks and any material used with those tricks¾into Mrs. Durkey’s mini-van. Next, they loaded the equipment¾the card table, two long cloths, music stand and poster.

            Mr. and Mrs. Shane had to be at their schools¾Mr. Shane worked at the Nova Elementary School and Mrs. Shane worked at the Avilion Elementary School¾long before the students arrived so neither of them was able to drive Mara to school. Thankfully, Mrs. Durkey offered to drive Mara and Matt to school and, luckily, she also owned a mini-van which had plenty of room for all the magic show props and equipment.

            When Mrs. Durkey arrived at the Kroy Elementary School, Maragold and Matt carried the magic props box and equipment into the school auditorium. They stored them at the back of the stage, behind the curtains, just as they were told to do. Then Matt kissed his mom on the cheek and thanked her for driving him and Mara to school. Matt reminded his mom to call his dad so he wouldn’t forget that the talent show was tonight. She said she would call him and remind him, but that she was sure that he’d remember and would be at the evening talent show. Matt and Maragold waved and said good-bye to Mrs. Durkey, then walked to the elementary school office to wait for the bell that indicated that early students could go to their classrooms.

            The school day had never seemed so long before; not even the first day after a vacation. All Maragold and Matt could think about were their two magic show performances: one at the 2:00 P.M. school assembly, and the other one in the evening, for parents. They were getting increasingly nervous because their thoughts constantly focused on how much each of them wanted to perform well for their friends and their family.

            They had a difficult time concentrating on Miss Demener’s lessons and were quite thankful that she seemed in a quiet mood. She presented her lessons without asking any questions. She acted as if she had other things on her mind. I guess teachers have problems and bad days like everyone else.

            Maragold and Matt were also unusually quiet with Cheryl and Eric during lunch time. Cheryl had warned Eric to leave them alone unless they started a conversation with him. Eric didn’t like that at all and was about to rebel when Cheryl gave him a look that would have frozen hot water. Then he backed-off immediately. The other friends at the lunch table were thoughtful enough to follow Cheryl’s request not to bother Mara and Matt.

            Maragold and Matt stewed for the remainder of the day, getting more and more anxious as they thought about their magic shows, about all the things that could go wrong, and how embarrassing and stupid they would look if they couldn’t perform as well on stage as they did in front of the huge mirror that hung on the wall in Mr. Shane’s magic room.

            Relief from their stress came when Mr. Maldon made an intercom announcement asking the teachers, who had performers in their classrooms, to release them at 1:30 P.M. so they could go to the auditorium and make last minute preparations for the 2:00 P.M. talent show assembly.

            Shortly after that announcement, Mara and Matt were released from their classroom. They went to the bathroom, then went right to the auditorium stage. When they arrived they both noticed that they weren’t the only ones who were nervous. Most of the performers already had beads of sweat on their foreheads because a swarm of butterflies had arrived and were fluttering around, banging against the walls of nearly everyone’s stomach. I wondered if anyone would get sick from nervousness. Some performers were more nervous than others, of course, but everyone was at least a little nervous, except for one nicely dressed girl standing alone on the far side of the stage. She acted unusually calm and bored.

            Each act was supposed to be fifteen minutes or less. Some acts would use only a few minutes, but other acts would need the entire time allotment. One of those acts was Maragold’s and Matt’s magic show. That’s why they had practiced for a fast-paced magic show. But doing almost anything fast, nearly always increases the chances of making mistakes. That thought occurred to both of them and caused additional stress and nervousness. Being a magician wasn’t always easy or wonderful, nor was being the focus of everyone’s attention always a good feeling.

            Matt was more nervous than Maragold, but that was only natural. Maragold had much more experience doing magic shows and being on stage in front of a lot of people. Matt had no experience at either one. But that wasn't the primary reason for Matt’s nervousness. His nervousness was simply due to the fact that he didn't want to embarrass Mara, to dull the shine on her talent, to be the cause of her getting teased. He sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t mess things up for her.

            I felt badly for Matt, but I was impressed by his maturity since he wasn't mainly concerned for himself. His main concern was for Mara’s feelings and reputation. This primary concern for someone else's feelings made him a rare fifth grader.

            Maragold and Matt knew they needed this extra time to set up their magic props and all their equipment, so they went quickly to the back of the stage to collect them. When they got there they were shocked to see that everything was gone. Someone had moved their magic box and equipment, and those things were nowhere in sight. Mara and Matt, nearly in a panic, looked more thoroughly around the stage but didn't see their magic show box of tricks or equipment. Anger as well as panic were growing inside them, like the pressure of magma that’s trying to escape from inside a plugged volcano.

            To make matters worse, they were supposed to be the first act to perform. They hurriedly told Miss Demener¾another teacher had taken her class because she was the stage manager¾and she angrily changed the order of the performances by replacing the opening magic show with the gymnasts and dancers. That would give Mara and Matt time to find the missing equipment. But when the assembly started, Maragold and Matt still hadn't found their magic equipment. They were desperate. Their faces were red with anger and embarrassment. Somehow I had to help them find their missing materials.

            That’s when my sensitive ears heard the muffled giggles coming from the far side of the stage. That giggling caught my attention because everyone was nervous about their performances, which made them unusually quiet. But in the midst of all this nervous, dry-mouth quietness and stage-fright, there was someone at the far side of the stage who was giggling quietly. Who was that giggling? It was Dawn, the sixth grade girl who had been staring at Matt in the cafeteria.

            I immediately flew to her. She was trying to cover her lips with one hand to hide her smile and muffle her giggles. I concentrated on her thoughts and knew right away that she was the one who had taken and hidden all the magic materials. Then a picture appeared in my mind of the piano that was in the music room. The music room was directly across the hall from the auditorium. Behind that piano image I saw the magic tricks box and materials. Then I realized, that that was the reason Dawn had been gone unusually long after she had asked the cafeteria monitor, at lunch time, if she could go to the girls' bathroom. So, perhaps she wasn't smiling at Matt because she liked him. Perhaps she was really smiling because she was planning this mean trick. I wondered, Was she really the kind of person who was happy to hurt and make others feel uncomfortable and embarrassed? I just didn't understand that kind of meanness. Could Dawn be related to Miss Demener? Both their personalities were like “too much sandpaper and too little silk.”

            Maragold and Matt didn't even know Dawn. They had never met or spoken to her. Their only knowledge of her was that they heard she was a talented singer. Some pretty flowers are poisonous and, I thought, perhaps I was seeing one of them now. Sadly, I am learning that humans quite often treat each other so badly that it's shameful. The leprechaun community that I came from, and grew up in, has a deep respect for each other’s unique skills, knowledge and differing personalities. And the older we become, the more care, kindness and respect we get. That attitude works so well for us leprechauns. I wondered why it didn't work very well for most humans. I looked at Dawn, again and couldn't help wondering what kind of troubled adult she might become. I sincerely hoped that during the remainder of her school years, she would have some kind, caring and patient teachers to help her change her very negative attitudes.

            I had to hurry if I was going to help. As I quickly flew back to Maragold, I saw that Mr. Maldon and some of the other performers were helping to look for the magic trick box and equipment. When I landed on Maragold’s shoulder, she was extremely upset. Quickly I whispered to Maragold that I had just learned that all of their magic materials were hidden in the music room, behind the piano. Then I told her to go get them quickly and that later I would explain how I found them. More importantly, I told her that she and Matt had to calm down, or their anger, combined with their nervousness, would almost certainly cause them to make embarrassing mistakes during their magic show.

            Maragold relayed my message to Matt and they both rushed to the music room to retrieve all the magic show materials.

            Again, Miss Demener impatiently changed the order of the performers. She told the juggler that he would be performing next, then told the comedian that he should be ready to perform after the juggler. Maragold thanked Miss Demener and told her that she and Matt would be ready to perform their magic show when the comedian finished his act. Then, working very quickly, she and Matt spread the black cloth across the card table, and spread the red cloth on top of the black cloth, but in the opposite direction. Next they unloaded the magic tricks and props from the magic-theme box and placed them on the card table in the order that they would be used. Then Matt set up the music stand and placed the magic poster on it while Maragold was double-checking the magic tricks for any tampering that may have been done. Maragold exhaled a sigh of relief when she found no evidence of any tampering. Maragold asked one of the stage-helpers to bring the music stand and poster out at the same time that she and Matt carried the card table to the front of the stage. Maragold saw Miss Demener sternly staring at her, so she nodded her head at Miss Demener to indicate that she and Matt were ready. Luckily the juggler, a boy named Robby Terkak, was very good and used all the time allowed to him. Also, his act was very funny so he received a lot of applause, which took even more time. That fact, plus the comedian’s act that followed the juggler, gave Maragold and Matt just enough time to get ready for their performance.

            While they were waiting to go onstage, a friend of Joe, the comedian, told Maragold and Matt that there was only about a minute left in Joe’s short comedy routine. Joe’s friend also said that Joe tried to be the “class clown” because of his name. He went on to explain that Joe’s last name was “King” and since the name “Joe King” sounded so much like the word “joking” he felt it was his destiny to be a comedian.

            Maragold and Matt thought that the story was a pleasant distraction from their nervousness, but they still breathed deeply several times, trying to calm themselves and slow their rapidly beating hearts. They tried to focus on doing the very best magic show that they could, in spite of the awful circumstances. Maragold gave Matt a forced smile, but Matt was too nervous to return it, plus, those butterflies in his stomach felt like they had formed into teams and were now playing football instead of just flying around as they had been before.

            When the stage curtain closed, after the comedian’s act was finished, Maragold and Matt quickly, but steadily, carried the fully loaded card table to the center of the stage. Maragold pointed to an out-of-the-way area, to the side of the stage, where she wanted the nice stage helper to place the magic poster. The poster was now out of their way, but close enough to be easily read by the audience.

            From behind the purple and gold trimmed curtain¾those were the Kroy school colors¾they could still hear the lingering audience applause and laughter for the comedian. They took a last, quick look at all the props, then took another deep breath to help themselves relax. However, I knew that relaxing, after going through all that they had just been through, would be nearly impossible.

            Maragold stood close to the front, center of the stage while Matt stood by the card table which was to the left of Maragold and about one-third of the way back.

            Maragold looked to the far right side of the stage and nodded at Miss Demener to show that she and Matt were ready to have the curtain opened so they could finally perform their magic show.

CHAPTER 12:  SHOWTIME

            As the curtain opened Matt whispered, “Good luck, Mara.”

            Over the swishing sound of the heavy curtain and the clatter of the pulleys, Matt heard Mara reply, “You too.”

            Maragold and Matt both took a calming, deep breath, then licked their dry lips. As the curtain glided past them, they could see that the lights on the first-grade through sixth-grade audience had been dimmed, and that they, the performers, now stood inside the bright circle of the spotlight. Luckily, this contrast in lighting made the audience almost invisible to them, and this fact enabled them to temporarily forget their prior frustration, panic and anger, but not their nervousness.

            Maragold flashed the audience a glowing smile, highlighted with friendly, inviting brown eyes that attracted the audience’s attention like two powerful magnets. The audience chatter stopped when they saw Mara holding a shiny black cane that sparkled in the spotlight. She held the cane chest high, parallel to the floor, with the top of the cane in one hand and the bottom of it in the other hand. Suddenly the cane was gone and now what she was holding was a lime colored green scarf in one hand and a lemon colored yellow scarf in her other hand.

            Matt appeared by her side and took the scarves, then handed Maragold a five feet long, bright-white rope. Matt walked to, and stood by, the props table while Maragold held the rope out in front of her with her right hand, and let it dangle nearly to the stage floor. Her left hand gracefully pointed towards the rope as she said, “Watch carefully as I attempt to tie the fastest knot that you’ll ever see.” Then with a flip of her wrist the rope snapped upward, twisted in mid-air, then dropped back towards the floor. Amazingly, there was a large, loose knot in the rope. Maragold had just tied a one-handed knot that was done so quickly the audience could hardly believe what they had just seen. Then she casually coiled the rope while saying, “If you liked that, then this will be three times better.” As she said the word better, she threw the rope toward the audience, but held onto one end of it. The other end of the rope stretched out toward the audience, jerked to a stop, then swung down to the floor near Maragold's feet. She stood still so the audience could get a good look at the three knots that had magically appeared in the rope. She untied those knots to show that they were real, then she twisted the rope until she had a large, looped knot in the middle of it as she held the rope between her outstretched hands. It was very plain to the audience that if Mara pulled the rope ends in opposite directions, that large, loose knot would get smaller as it tightened. But when Maragold did slowly pull the ends of the rope in opposite directions, the knot simply appeared to melt away. The students were so amazed that most of them appeared to be in a trance. They realized then that they were seeing a young magician with much more skill than they had ever expected, and their respect and admiration for Mara shot upward like a rocket.

            Maragold handed the rope to Matt and immediately showed the audience her empty hands, which she then dropped to her sides. Then, looking at an invisible object that floated in the air, she grabbed at it, like an infant might grab for candy, and suddenly a shiny, silver half-dollar appeared at her fingertips. Matt walked up to Maragold’s left side holding a silver, metal bucket and Maragold dropped the coin into it with a loud, ringing metallic sound. Then she produced six more coins the same way. When she was done she had Matt empty the bucket into her hand so she could show the seven half-dollars. Then she dumped all seven coins back into the bucket with a loud clatter.

            Matt continued to stand next to Maragold as she showed her empty hands again; rubbing her left palm with her right hand fingers, then rubbing her right palm with her left hand fingers. It looked as if she was delicately washing her palms. Then she raised and extended her right hand to shoulder level, with her empty palm facing toward the audience. She moved her hand slowly up and down, and amazingly the ace of spades appeared trapped in her fingertips.

            Matt, who had been standing on her left side, now walked in back of her¾so he wouldn’t block the audience’s view of Maragold¾to stand at her right side. He held out the coin bucket and Maragold dropped the ace into it. The audience saw the card flutter for a split-second, like a bird’s wing, then disappear into the bucket. As if that wasn’t amazing enough, Mara then shocked her peers even more by producing the ace of clubs, then the ace of diamonds, and finally the ace of hearts in the same way. It appeared as if she had grabbed the cards from thin air, and then dropped each of them, one-at-a-time, into the bucket. She smiled broadly, knowing that she had completed her routine without making an error and embarrassing herself. She bowed to her excited, loudly applauding and whistling audience.

            During Maragold’s bow, Matt had stepped back to the prop table and picked up a bright red scarf. Maragold bowed again and when she straightened up, Matt was standing at her left side holding the red scarf by its two diagonal corners. The scarf appeared to be about two feet square.

            Mara said to the audience, “Matt Durkey has been my excellent assistant for this magic show, . . . but now it’s his turn to be the magician.” Then she turned and walked back to the prop table, leaving Matt at the front of the stage to perform his trick and get his own deserved recognition and applause.

            Maragold noticed that Matt was staring out into the crowd of students and seemed to be so nervous that he was unable to move due to “stage fright.”

            I was surprised when Maragold’s thoughts hit me like the sting of a fly-swatter. She had not intended for that to happen, but she was in desperate need of my immediate help. I obeyed her “thought commands” and flew to Matt’s left shoulder. Then, so that only he could hear me, I shouted in his ear, “Matt! Mara sent me! She says don’t stare at the audience because it’s making you too nervous. Pretend that the audience is a room full of monkeys with diapers on them. That thought will replace your stage fright. You’ve performed your trick perfectly many times in practice so don’t let your nervousness control you. Do the trick now.” I also helped relax him with a wave of my emerald, magic wand. Matt suddenly appeared alert again.

            Matt did what Maragold had suggested. He smiled at the imaginary monkeys, then held up the bright red scarf by its diagonal corners. The spotlight made the red scarf appear to glow, as if it had its own source of light. That immediately captured the attention of the audience.

            Matt moved both wrists in small circles so that the scarf material twirled around on itself, forming a two feet long, rope-like shape. He was feeling better now, more relaxed and much less nervous. Because he had practiced this trick so many times, the routine came back to him quickly. He held the scarf slightly lower than his eyes, with it stretched out and parallel to the stage floor. Then he peeked over it, giving the audience a look of mystery. Slowly he lowered the scarf to his waist, but still kept it stretched out and parallel to the floor. He paused, then said, “Watch!” Quickly he moved his two hands together and, with a fast upward and outward throwing motion, he appeared to throw the scarf toward the audience. With intense, focused eyes he pretended to follow the path of the scarf as if it were actually sailing out into the audience. His act was so convincing that many of the students, in the first few rows, held out their hands to catch the scarf that they thought was coming towards them. But it only took another second for them to realize that there was no scarf at all. Then all eyes refocused on Matt and his extended arms and empty, open hands. The audience saw that he was also staring at his empty hands with a surprised look on his face, as if he didn’t know what had happened to the scarf. Then Matt smiled at them to let them know that he had fun entertaining them with his Vanishing Scarf trick.

            Matt continued to smile, then bowed to the audience. When he straightened up, Maragold was at his left side. She took his left hand in her right hand and together they bowed to their wonderful, excited audience. Then they let go of each other’s hand and gratefully waved to the audience.

            There was whistling, cheering and the pleasing sound of loud applause. Matt and Maragold bowed again and the whistling, cheering, and clapping got even louder. Matt and Maragold smiled brightly and waved again to show the audience their appreciation and gratitude. But what they heard in return was a chant. Most of the students were standing and chanting, “Mara! Matt! One more trick! Mara! Matt! One more trick!” Mara and Matt realized that their audience had enjoyed the magic show so much that they didn't want Mara and Matt to leave the stage without doing one more magic trick.

            Some of the students were so excited that they were not only clapping, they were also jumping up and down and waving their arms while their anxious and embarrassed teachers were having no luck keeping them seated and quiet.

            Matt whispered to Mara, “What about doing the Professor's Nightmare rope trick for them?”

            Maragold looked at Matt and said, “Did we bring the Professor's Nightmare trick?”

            “Yes,” said Matt. “Remember, that was the trick you had in your routine, but when the magic show had to be shortened you got rid of it along with all the jokes and gags. But you told me to pack it just in case we needed it.”

            “Oh, yeah. Now I remember. But our time is up. We don’t have time to perform another trick. I’d need another five minutes, at least.”

            Matt said, “I know, but look at the audience. They want . . .”

            Just then Miss Demener appeared by their side. They both thought she was going to scowl and order them to get off the stage. Instead, with an unhappy look on her face, she said, “Mr. Maldon says you may do one more trick . . . if you have one. Do you have one?” she said without much emotion and seeming to be bored.

            Together Maragold and Matt answered, “Yes.”

            “Then do it,” she said. “Other performers are waiting for their turn.” She sighed impatiently, turned quickly and walked off the stage.

            Matt told Maragold to wait right where she was as he walked quickly to the magic trick box. He reached into it and pulled out three green-colored ropes that had been coiled-up and held together with a rubber band. Matt hurried to Maragold, removed the rubber band, and handed the uncoiled ropes to her.

            Matt looked directly at the audience and, with his right index finger, he pointed downward and with his left index finger he touched his pursed lips, indicating that the students should sit down, be quiet, and get ready for one more magic trick. When they were seated and quiet, he said, in a loud and confident voice, “Now, for her last magical mystery, Mara will perform the famous and mysterious Professor's Nightmare rope trick for you.” This was followed by some excited whistling, and clapping, but this time the teachers were successful¾with Matt’s help¾getting the students to be quiet.

            Maragold showed the audience three unequal, green ropes. The short rope was about two feet long, the medium length rope was about three feet long, and the longest rope was about five feet long. She turned her right shoulder slightly toward the audience and extended her left hand so they could clearly see her right hand place the top ends of the short, medium and long ropes into her out-stretched left hand fingers. Then she casually lifted the bottom ends of all three ropes and placed them next to the top ends. She made a magic motion with her right hand, grabbed the bottom ends and slowly pulled her hands apart. The audience saw that all three ropes were suddenly the same length. Maragold counted each rope as she slowly pulled them, one at a time, out of her left hand and into her right hand. “One . . . two . . . three equal length ropes,” she said as she smiled triumphantly at the audience

            The students continued to focus on her every move, entranced by her actions. Then in another smooth motion Maragold coiled the three ropes into her left hand. She made another magic motion with her right hand, then tapped the coiled ropes with the emerald wand that Matt handed to her. She said the word “presto,” then pulled the three ropes out of her left hand. The ropes had been magically restored to their original, unequal lengths.

            Once again the audience went crazy with excitement, and the loud cheering, whistling and clapping returned to echo off the auditorium walls.

            I wish Maragold, Matt and the audience could see those echoing noises as I saw them. I saw those sound waves as colorful ribbons bouncing off the walls, floating, streaking, twirling and dancing their way through the air. Those colorful sound waves represented the sound and sight of what pure happiness would look like if the pure, unrestrained laughter of happy children could be seen.

            Mara motioned for Matt to come to the front of the stage with her. When he did, they held hands again, showed their best, appreciative smiles, then bowed deeply to their audience to signal their increased appreciation and gratitude for their kindness to both of them.

            Then, to Matt’s surprise¾he had forgotten about it¾Maragold reached into her back pocket and pulled out a large, beautifully-colored silk scarf measuring four feet square. She gave one corner to Matt as she held onto the opposite corner. She and Matt let the scarf unfold for the audience to see. The scarf had a huge, smiling rabbit on it, similar to the one on their poster. At the bottom of the scarf, by the rabbit’s big, fluffy, cotton-tail butt were the words, "THE END."

            The curtains were closing as they smiled broadly and vigorously waved to the audience. When the curtains had fully closed, they stood there for a couple of seconds enjoying those fading sounds of the audience’s laughter, cheering, whistling and clapping. Then they thought to themselves, “We did it!” They felt happy knowing that they had performed extremely well in spite of the nervousness, frustration and near panic over their missing magic materials. But there was no time to waste with that thought as they saw Miss Demener impatiently motioning for them to get off the stage. They quickly removed their magic show materials from the stage to make room for the next performance.

            When they had repacked all the magic show materials, I landed on Maragold’s shoulder, but remained quiet. She felt the slight pressure of me standing there and she whispered, “So who took the magic props and hid them in the music room?”

            “Dawn did,” I replied, also in a whisper. “She wanted to make sure she beat the both of you so she would win the talent show contest. Someone told her that your dad is a pretty good magician and you were his assistant. Because of that she figured that your magic show would be good, and she didn’t want any serious competition from you and Matt. She also wanted to embarrass you and ruin your close friendship with Matt. Matt moved closer to Maragold and was listening.

            Another performer was playing the drums now, but the loudest pounding was not coming from those drums. It was occurring inside Maragold’s head. She was so angry at Dawn that she was getting a headache.

            Just then Matt saw Maragold’s eyes become moist so he positioned himself directly in front of her so that his back would be in the way of anyone who might see her face. He quietly said to her, “Don’t get upset about Dawn. She’s not worth it, Mara. And, Amazing Grace, you showed her and everyone else, just how talented you are. You were really amazing.”

            Those thoughtful, kind words were like a warm desert breeze causing Maragold’s eyes to dry rapidly.

             Mara looked at Matt, smiled, then said, “You sure are right about that, Turkey Durkey.” Then they both laughed about the nicknames that they had given to each other, a year ago, in fourth grade.

            They talked about not playing any revenge tricks on Dawn because that would make them nearly as bad and as mean as she was.

            They stopped talking when they heard a beautiful, female singing voice. She was singing the song, Blue, originally sung by Patsy Cline, then wonderfully performed by a young, teenage country-singer named LeAnn Rimes. They knew right away that it had to be Dawn singing that song. She sounded more like LeAnn Rimes than Patsy Cline, but that is still a wonderful compliment. As young as Miss Rimes was when she recorded the song, Blue, she had a very mature, full-range and beautiful voice that many of the adult female country singers must envy. Dawn was the last performer in the assembly. As Maragold, Matt, and I listened to her, we could hardly believe that such a fantastic voice could be coming from the mouth of such a mean-spirited person.

            I hate to admit it, and I’m not proud of this thought either, but I was thinking that perhaps no one should be surprised that such a fantastic voice can come out of such a mean-spirited person. After all, flowers grow out of the dirt, don’t they? Life has many contradictions like that. However, that is a personal thought; not one that I shared with Maragold and Matt. I hope, dear reader, that you will not think too poorly of me for having it. I think Elder O’Keefe would be disappointed in me for thinking like that. I wonder if my unpleasant thought about Dawn indicates that I’m acquiring a negative human trait.

            When Dawn's song was over and she left the stage, Maragold and Matt walked over to her. Mara spoke first. “That was a really mean thing that you did to us, Dawn.”

            “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, sarcastically.

            “We know,” Matt said, “that you took our magic tricks, props and equipment during the lunch period and hid them in the music room behind the piano.”

            “Can you prove that? If you have proof then let’s see it or hear it. If you don’t have proof then get lost and leave me alone. I’ve got much better things to do than listen to you two jerks.”

            Maragold and Matt knew they could not mention that Bert was their proof so they said nothing about having any proof, but they repeated that they knew it was she who took their magic show materials and hid them in the music room.

“I’m innocent until you prove me guilty, right?” she shouted. “By the way, Matt. What are you doing with her?” Dawn pointed to Maragold and Dawn’s face revealed a disgusted look. “You could do a lot better than her, you know.”

            Matt’s angry voice rang out clear and strong, “I haven’t yet met another girl as kind, considerate and as pretty as Mara. You can’t even begin to compare with her. You're such a mean, sad person, you know that? Your nice singing voice and your almost pretty face can’t make up for your mean, selfish personality. I don’t like being close to people like you. It makes me feel dirty and in need of a shower. Stay away from us and we’ll stay away from you.”

            Dawn was speechless and couldn’t respond as Matt and Mara turned their backs to her. They walked across the stage, picked up all their magic show materials and carried them to Mr. Maldon’s office where they would be safe until the evening performance.

Dawn continued to stare at them, her eyes flashing with anger as they walked out the stage door. Her furious looking eyes squinted and seemed to turn dark gray, like storm clouds, while her lips twisted into a scowl as she repeated Matt's words, ". . . almost pretty face." She hated both of them. Then she wondered how they knew that she had hidden their magic show materials.

            Luckily the evening performance went just as well for Maragold and Matt. The audience was mostly parents, grand-parents, and brothers and sisters of the performers. The audience thoroughly enjoyed all the performers, especially the magic show, the juggler, and the singer. And this audience, also, showed their pleasure by clapping loudly and long, though there was no whistling and jumping up and down. But it sure would have been hilarious to see Grandma and Grandpa whistling and jumping up and down, wouldn’t it, dear reader?

            Matt’s mom and dad sat with Maragold’s mom and dad. All four parents had thoroughly enjoyed Maragold’s and Matt’s magic show, as well as the other performers, especially the tall, handsome juggler with the contagious smile, and that pretty, young girl with the wonderful voice. But most of all they were very impressed and proud of their own kids’ performance. They thought the talent show was remarkable and well done. They asked Mara and Matt who the judges were. Mara informed them that there were five judges who were appointed by the president of the school’s Parent-Teacher Organization. The judges would be selecting a winner from each grade level, then they would pick an overall winner for the whole talent show. Mara’s and Matt’s parents simply said, “Let us know what the results are.” Then Mrs. Shane added, “No matter what the results are, the both of you did an exceptionally good job, and you both should be very proud of yourselves.” Mr. Shane and Matt's parents agreed, then also congratulated them.

            The next day the votes were collected in the morning, right after the announcements. During the day, the hallways, classrooms, and cafeteria were buzzing with excited students guessing who they thought the winners would be.

            Before school ended the results were given, over the school’s intercom system, by Mr. Maldon. From fourth grade, the tall, agile juggler, Robby Terkak, won. From fifth grade, the magic show performed by Mara Shane and Matt Durkey won, and from sixth grade, the singing of Dawn Robins won.

            Maragold and Matt both reluctantly agreed that Dawn Robins should be the over-all talent show winner because the winner should be the one that showed the most talent. So even though they didn’t like her, they did believe that she showed the most talent.

            Matt also thought that the fourth grade juggler, Robby Terkak, might have a chance to win because Robby’s juggling of many different sized and shaped objects showed incredible skill for someone his age, plus he was also very humorous. Matt admired Robby’s skill. Maragold agreed that Robby’s juggling skill was excellent and very entertaining and, secretly, she thought Robby was also very handsome, though she thought it was best to keep that opinion to herself.

            Maragold and Matt were completely surprised when the news traveled fast and loudly, echoing through the fifth grade section of the hallway, as Mr. Maldon announced that the overall winners of the talent show contest were Mara Shane and Matt Durkey for their exciting and completely mystifying magic show performance.

            Maragold and Matt stared at each other with expressions of surprise and disbelief, then smiled at each other. They both said, “Thank you” to their kind classmates who where clapping and cheering for them. But the biggest surprise of all was that Miss Demener was showing a little smile, like a crack in the ice, but she definitely wasn’t clapping or cheering.

CHAPTER 13:  A CHARMING MONTH

            For the Irish, March is a charming month. This is the month that has Saint Patrick’s Day in it; March 17, to be exact. Did you know that Saint Patrick converted Ireland to the Christian religion? It's a legal holiday in Ireland and is celebrated more informally by Irish, and many non-Irish people, all over the world.

            You can rearrange the five letters in the word March to get the word charm. That’s why I called March a charming month.

            For American students, March can really be a slow month because there are no legal holidays in it. Therefore, there are no days off from school to look forward to since Saint Patrick’s Day is not a legal holiday in America as it is in Ireland.

            Near the end of one school day, just to break the boredom, Maragold and Matt got permission to go to the library. Actually, they just wanted to talk privately instead of getting a book. They found a nice quiet spot far away from the librarian’s desk and sat side by side, each with an open book in front of them. The books made it look like they were reading quietly. They hoped that the librarian wouldn’t catch them talking and send them back to their room.

            Not long after they sat, Maragold poked Matt lightly in the ribs and whispered, “Hey, Matt, I’m puzzled by something. You know, during our language lesson today, Miss Demener, . . .oops, I mean Misdemeanor, was talking about adverbs and adjectives. She said that words which describe verbs are called adverbs and that words that describe nouns are called adjectives. Well, I was wondering, If words that describe verbs are called adverbs, then how come words that describe nouns aren’t called 'adnouns'? What do you think?”

            Matt looked at her with an amusing smile, then said, “Yep, you’re right. You are absolutely right. But then, you are absolutely weird, too. Is that what was on your mind during the whole lesson?”

            Maragold smiled as if she were shy, then responded, “No, of course not. I was also wondering what the longest word in the American language is. Do you happen to know?”

            “I have no idea,” Matt said, as he smiled at her.

            “Well, the answer just appeared on your face when you smiled at me. I think the longest word must be the word smiles because there’s a mile between the first and the last letters.”

            They both tried hard to keep their laughter quiet by placing their hands over their mouths. Their eyes sparkled with innocent mischief as they snuck a peek at the librarian to see if she had heard them. It appeared that she hadn’t, so they relaxed.

            Maragold whispered, “If you think that I’m weird, then you would think my dad is super weird. But it’s a real nice kind of weirdness, you know. . .he’s fun, interesting, and entertaining . . . well, most of the time, anyway. Sometimes he tells some really awful jokes and puns. But during his magic shows he can be a very humorous kind of weird. He says things that are so funny that they make kids and adults laugh out loud. He just has a knack for knowing what strange and funny things to say or do that will entertain people. Kids especially like the funny faces he makes and the unusual voices that he uses as he pretends to be goofy characters, especially his Crazy Googanham character.”

            “Wow,” whispered Matt, “I didn’t know your dad was like that, and since he’s a teacher, I would never have guessed that he was like that. But I don’t know your dad very well either. He must have a good sense of humor. He must be a lot of fun, too.”

            Maragold grinned. “Yes, my dad's a special person. I really love him a lot. Of course I love my mom just as much, but there’s something extra special about my dad. He takes the time to play games with me, to talk to me, and when he hugs me, or looks at me, he makes me feel comfortable, safe and protected. Of course, sometimes he has his overly serious moments and is impatient or moody, but overall he’s a great dad. When I was a little kid he played with me all the time and read a lot of books to me, especially at bed time. We watched TV together. We went to parks and to movies together. We went on long bike rides, played softball and basketball. When the carnival came to Calford, with all those exciting rides, he would take me on any ride that I wanted to go on . . .which was usually all of them. Now I'm his magic show assistant. We’ve had a lot fun doing magic shows together. You couldn’t ask for a better dad. Well, maybe you could, but he sure is a great Papa. Sometimes I call him ‘Papa’ instead of ‘Dad.’”

            I sat quietly on Maragold’s shoulder as she talked to Matt about the very special memories that she shared with her dad. I was very interested in this part of her life, too. I thought Maragold was very lucky to be loved so greatly by her father.

Maragold told Matt about the time, in second grade, when she was learning how to write a report. She came home and asked her dad how to spell sex. She said she needed to know because she was writing a report for her teacher. Well, when she asked him that question, his brow wrinkled, he squinted his eyes, and his facial expression was one of worry and concern. But before he could say anything, Mara said she told him that her report was about insects and that she knew how to spell in, but she didn't know how to spell the sects part.

            Matt was embarrassed by this story, even though it turned out to be funny and harmless, so he just listened and didn't say anything to Mara.

            Mara kept going with her story, not noticing Matt’s bright blush of discomfort. She finished the story by saying that her dad laughed really hard about her spelling question, but he wouldn’t tell her why he was laughing so hard. He just said that he'd tell her when she was older. Mara said she didn’t realize why her dad had laughed so hard about that spelling question until she was in third grade, a whole year later.

            Then Maragold told Matt about the times when she wore her dad’s undershirts as night gowns during the hot summer months.

            Another memory that Maragold told Matt about was a special tree that she and her dad had in the woods that were behind Maragold’s grandma’s and grandpa’s house. The tree grew in the shape of the capital letter “L.” They used to use it as a chair while they had conversations and joke sessions. But later on, when Mara was older and could write better, they left messages for each other at the tree. Maragold said she would write a short letter to her dad and he would write a short letter to her. Mr. Shane almost always carried a pad of paper and a pen in his shirt pocket so they could write their letters. After they wrote a short letter to each other they would place the letters in plastic, zip-locking sandwich bags, then place the bags between two, large, flat rocks that lay at the base of the tree. Depending on the weather or the season, they would occasionally take a walk to that tree and read those letters. Sometimes it would be a few weeks, or a couple months before they had a chance to check the letters. But sometimes it would be many months before they could go back and read those letters, especially if their letters were placed by the tree in the fall and they didn't go back to read them until spring. After they read the letters, they would always write new ones and place them between the rocks so they could read them the next time they visited that special tree. One day her dad told her that this letter writing activity, at their special tree, was one of his favorite memories. He also said that those memories were so special to him that even when she grew up he was going to leave letters and poems for her, just in case she ever got back to that spot after he had died. He said he may have to put his messages in a plastic tube and bury it near the base of that special tree because thin, plastic sandwich bags wouldn't last much longer than a year, and he didn’t know “if” or “when” she’d ever get back there to look at the last messages that he had left for her.

            Matt noticed right away that Mara’s mood was not as cheerful after she had mentioned her dad’s future death. Her eyes watered with tears of sadness. I noticed that those tears made her eyes sparkle like sunlight sparkles off the morning dew that's on a beautiful flower. Maragold only paused for a second to swallow hard, then continued with more memories about her dad. Matt listened intensely to these stories with growing fascination.

            Maragold continued by saying that one year her dad took her to the Calford town carnival where he filled out a prize card so that she might win a brand new girl’s, ten-speed bicycle. Hundreds of girls had put their names, addresses and phone numbers on cards, just like hers, with the hope of winning the new, red bike. Maragold said that she told her dad not to fill out the card because she would never win the bike. However, her dad said that it would only take a couple minutes to fill out the card and that maybe this was her lucky day. When they had had enough fun at the carnival, they went home and about a hour later they got a telephone call saying that Mara had won the bike. When her dad told her this startling news she was amazed and actually wondered if her dad was a magician with “real magic powers.” They hurried back to the carnival, loaded the bike into her dad’s green pick-up truck and brought it home. However, they had to put it in the cellar for a year until Mara had grown big enough to ride it.

Mara said she loved going to the annual Calford carnival with her dad. She said she always had a wonderful feeling of excitement and joy when her dad took her there. She could go on all the rides, play any of the carnival games, get as much cotton candy and soda as she wanted, and have fun for hours. She said she knew that her dad had those same feelings about taking her to the carnival.

            Maragold sat quietly in a dream-like state with memories flowing from her lips like water flowing over a cliff. Matt and I were anxious to hear more and Maragold did not disappoint us. She added to her unbroken chain of memories by saying that her dad really liked to eat dried apricots so she often got him a couple of boxes as gifts, usually for his birthday. He seemed to get as much pleasure from sharing them with her as he did from the sweet taste of the apricots. Maragold told Matt that dried apricots look like small, orange, wrinkled ears, and when her dad started eating one of the apricots he would look at her with a big smile and say, "Yummy, yummy. I wonder whose delicious ear will soon be in my tummy."

            She also said her dad collected small ceramic and glass rabbits. He kept them in order, lined up by year, on three shelves in the magic room. To him, these rabbits were symbols of all the good times that he'd had as a magician, and that’s why he found pleasure in collecting them. So every Christmas Mara and her mom made sure that one of them got him another rabbit for his collection.

            Then there was the time in first grade when Maragold said she had made a black paper silhouette (that's a cut-out, black construction-paper picture drawn from the shadow of a face) of her head. Her classroom teacher helped all the students make one. Her dad liked it so much that he brought it to a picture-frame store and spent thirty dollars to get it framed. It now proudly hangs on a wall in the Shane's living room.

            Maragold said that she and her dad used to play games in the magic room. Sometimes they would perform magic tricks for each other, or play with some of the magic-show hand-puppets, or with dominoes, or checkers. Sometimes they'd play games on the computer that was also in the magic room. She said that this had broke the boredom of winter nights when it got dark so early in the evening.

            Her voice lowered and slowed down like an engine coming to a stop as she mentioned another memory about an “Annie button” that her dad always kept in his front pants pocket. Maragold said that there was a movie called “Annie” that she loved to watch over and over. Annie was a little girl who did not know her birth parents and was living in an orphanage. She was rebellious and didn’t like the lady who operated the orphanage, so Annie escaped. While she is away from the orphanage she finds a dog named Sandy. But Annie gets caught and is returned to the orphanage. Then she is very lucky to be brought to a rich man’s home by his secretary, after he told her to bring home an orphan. Annie is only supposed to stay for the weekend, but the rich man, Mr. Warbucks,¾he’s usually referred to as “Daddy Warbucks”¾starts to like her and wants to keep her and adopt her as his own daughter, if her parents can’t be found. Annie’s real parents can’t be found so she is excited and happy to be adopted by the kind, Mr. Warbucks.

            Maragold said she loved that movie so much that she wanted Annie dolls, bracelets, necklaces, ear rings, rings and clothes. She had a button, about the size of a nickel, with Annie’s face on it. She gave it to her dad and he always carried it in his pants pocket. Maragold was always amazed to see it, year after year, still in her dad’s pocket. She said that her dad told her that he thought of the button as a precious gift from her and that he would try never to lose it.

            Maragold said, “I have these and many more special memories of my dad as I was growing up, and in years to come I know there will be plenty more golden memories. But right now, I think I’ve talked enough. Can you tell me about some of your memories of your dad, Matt?”

            Matt was so caught up with Maragold’s wonderful memories of her dad that it took him a few seconds to think before he said anything. Then he smiled at Mara and said, “I envy your relationship with your dad. It sounds so wonderful. He sure sounds like a great guy. I have mostly good memories, too.”

            Now Maragold and I listened to Matt’s family memories.

            Matt said he regretted that his mom and dad had divorced, but that he had adjusted to it as best he could. He said he didn't mind living with his mom. He loved her very much, but he really missed his dad a lot. He wished that he could have as good a relationship with his dad as Mara had with her dad, but that couldn’t really happen since his dad didn't live in the same house.

            Before Matt continued talking, he made Mara promise not to tell anybody what he was going to tell her. Mara promised, then she and I listened closely to what Matt had to say.

            Matt said that his dad still teases him, in a friendly way, about the way he used to pronounce the word “refrigerator.” When he was little and just learning how to talk and pronounce words, he used to say, “friddy-frayter” instead of “refrigerator.” To this day, Matt informed us with a whisper, it’s still a private, funny joke between them. It turned into a very special memory for both him and his dad. Matt said that he actually looked forward to this teasing because it brought him and his dad emotionally close together, as well as making him feel loved, needed, and appreciated by his father.

            Then Matt remembered the pillow fights that he and his dad used to have. Matt said that they were great fun. His dad would pretend to be a scary giant and Matt would hit him in the face with a pillow, then the giant would fall down dead on the floor. But the giant would suddenly come back to life and hit Matt with a pillow. Then the game would start all over again. Sometimes his dad pretended to walk like Frankenstein’s monster to make the game more scary and fun as he chased Matt around the house.

            Matt remembered times, during the summers, when he and his dad would excitedly run outside and have squirt-gun fights. They’d use the garden hose to fill their plastic guns with water, then they’d chase each other all over the lawn and around the outside of the house to see how wet they could make each other.

            Matt said that, just like Mara, he also really enjoyed going to movies with his dad. His mom didn't like the violent, action-adventure type of movies that he and his dad liked, so most of the time it was just he and his dad who went to the movies. His dad would buy popcorn, candy and soda, and they always had a great time.

            Matt said that his dad also took him bowling once in a while. Neither he, nor his dad were good bowlers so they would mostly clown around, tell jokes, and tease each other. They didn’t care very much about their scores. Being with each other and having fun was the most important part of bowling for them.

            Also, Matt said his dad brought him to many Rochester Red Wings baseball games. His dad bought him his first baseball, bat and glove, as well as his first football, and basketball. His dad taught him how to throw and catch the baseball and football, as well as how to play basketball. And he said that his dad was very patient and made playing those sports a lot of fun. Matt said that he and his dad would spend hours playing catch with a baseball, or football, or playing basketball as they pretended to be famous athletes.

            It occurred to both Matt and Maragold that both their dads were very much alike in some ways, especially when it came to spending time with them, caring about them and loving them.

            Matt said that just before the divorce he asked his dad to watch him play a Little League baseball game. Matt told his dad that he was embarrassed about hitting the ball with very little power and about striking-out a lot. He told his dad that he had one of the lowest batting averages on the team. Matt was a skilled center fielder who could run fast and cover a lot of the outfield. He also had a very strong arm. He could actually throw the ball from deep in center field, to second base, which is something few other boys his age could do. He was very good at everything, except batting and he was hoping that his dad could help him improve.

            During Matt's next baseball game his dad watched him carefully each time he was at bat. After that game he said he thought that Matt’s stance, inside the batter’s box, needed to be adjusted. Matt said that he remembered how kind his dad was about his advice because his dad didn’t say his batting stance was “wrong” or that it needed to be "corrected," which implied that it was wrong. He simply said that his stance needed to be “adjusted,” like it was just some minor detail. Then every evening for a week Matt’s dad helped him with his newly adjusted batting stance and, to Matt's delight, he got better and better at not striking-out and much better at hitting the ball with power. Each time Matt hit a long fly-ball he became more confident, and as his confidence grew, so did his ability to hit the ball even better.

            In his next baseball game Matt was at bat four times and got three hits, with no strike-outs. Matt felt wonderful as his friends excitedly patted him on the back and said nice things to him. Matt said it was such a great feeling, and he owed it all to his dad who cared enough and loved him enough to help him each night, even though he was tired from a long, busy day at work.

            Even the coach was jumping up and down with excitement with each of Matt’s hits. The coach would pat him on the back, and put his arm around Matt’s shoulder, and with pride in his voice, he would congratulate Matt repeatedly for his improved performance.

            Matt said that his dad wouldn't allow him to tell the coach about how his dad had him change his batting stance, or how his dad had practiced with him each night for a whole week in order to get his stance right so he would be prepared for the next game. Matt’s dad said that he didn't want to embarrass the coach. He said that the coach was just a caring parent who volunteered to coach and probably only had a limited knowledge about how to teach baseball skills.

            Matt said he could still picture his dad giving him a big smile and the “thumb up” signal after each hit. He could still see that big smile in his memory.

            Suddenly Maragold and Matt both noticed that it was time to get back to their room. It was almost time to get ready to go home. As they departed the library they smiled at the librarian, who was puzzled by the fact that they didn’t sign-out the books that she thought they had been reading.

CHAPTER 14:  APRIL FOOL

            I reminded Maragold and Matt that they had been neglecting Cheryl and Eric for quite awhile, and that it made both of their friends feel sad, lonely and abandoned. I advised Maragold and Matt to make an effort to reestablish their very close friendship. I also told them that Eric’s weird behaviors were getting on Cheryl’s nerves and that she needed Mara and Matt to take some of the stress off her shoulders. Cheryl liked Eric, but he was a lot like candy. Having a few pieces of candy is sweet and nice, but having too much of it can make a person sick. So Cheryl desperately needed Mara and Matt to share the "candy." Maragold and Matt appreciated and laughed at my comparison of Eric to candy.

            One day, when Eric wasn’t with them, Cheryl told Mara and Matt a funny story about getting “even” with Eric for having to put-up with his constant weirdness. Cheryl told Mara and Matt that Eric was jealous of them because of all the attention they got from doing the magic shows. Eric said he might be able to do a better magic show, but it would be a “mentalism” or “mind reading” kind of act. Eric told Cheryl that she could be his assistant. Then he told Cheryl that she just had to pretend to put him into a deep, hypnotic sleep, by saying the magic words, “Abracadabra. Go to sleep.” But before Eric could finish explaining his idea for a mind-reading routine, Cheryl grinned mischievously and loudly asked, “You mean that all I have to say is, ‘Have a banana. Go to sleep?’”

            “No!” Eric shouted, “You say, ‘Abracadabra. Go to sleep.’ Then I pretend to be in a deep, hypnotic sleep.”

            “Oh, I see,” said Cheryl. “You’ll pretend to be in a hypnotic trance after I say, ‘Have a banana. Go to sleep.’”

            “No! No! No!” Eric screamed at Cheryl. “Are you deaf? I said, ‘Abracadabra,’ not ‘Have a banana.’ Why are you talking about a banana?”

            Then Cheryl said, “Oh. Sorry. I looked at your nose and couldn’t help thinking of a banana. That thought made me think about a banana peel. Then that thought led me to thinking about slipping on a banana peel.”

            “Are you making-fun of my nose? My nose doesn’t look anything like a banana! Even if it did, What’s that have to do with anything that I’m talking about!” Eric yelled with an angry, and frustrated expression.

            “It’s simple, Eric” answered Cheryl, teasingly. “When I thought of slipping on a banana peel, that made me have a ‘slip-of-the-tongue,’ so naturally, you can understand why I made the mistake of saying ‘Have a banana. Go to sleep,’ instead of saying, ‘Abracadabra. Go to sleep.’ It’s certainly easy to see how a person could make an obvious mistake like that, right?”

            “No! It isn’t! I don’t understand you at all, but I do know that doing a magic show with you would never work, so forget it,” Eric yelled in total frustration.

            Then Cheryl laughed at Eric so hard that he was forced to realize that she was just teasing him, and that made him furious. He didn’t talk to Cheryl for the rest of that day and the entire next day, too. Cheryl felt that she’d never been so happy, in all her life, as she was during that day and a half.

            Maragold and Matt decided to make sure that their two special friends were included in as many of their activities as possible for the remainder of the school year. The three of us decided, however, not to inform them of my existence. That was a great relief to me, especially where Eric is concerned. I certainly liked him, and he made me laugh with his comical behaviors, but I knew that he couldn’t keep a secret any better than Mr. Maldon could keep his hair—but Mr. Maldon never has to worry about having a ‘bad hair day’ either.

            At lunchtime Maragold and Matt made a determined effort to include Cheryl and Eric in their conversations and jokes, especially now that the magic show didn’t dominate their thinking and conversations. I noticed that it didn’t take a lot of effort, though, because within a short time they were all comfortable, happy, smiling and laughing with each other again. Ah, yes, I know that Cheryl was the happiest of all of them because now Mara and Matt could share the weight of Eric’s load of jokes and weird ways. I was very happy to see Cheryl’s pretty smile again.

Maragold commented that it was remarkable how the sixth grade bullies had left them alone. She said she felt that school had become a dangerous place for some students, and that "bullying," with its emotional and physical violence was becoming too much a part of school life. "Why is it," Maragold wondered out loud, "that bullies think they are so much better or smarter than the people they pick-on, and yet they don't understand, or don’t care, how immature, irresponsible, and cruel they are being?"

            Eric didn't like to be serious so he attempted to change the serious mood created by Maragold's question. While thinking about Mara’s use of the word “dangerous,” a broad smile bloomed on Eric’s face. Then his words blew through his teeth like a blustery wind through a white picket fence, as he said, “School still is a dangerous place to come to because all the dictionaries have ‘dynamite’ in them.” He said the word “is” louder and more dramatic, like the word itself was a stick of exploding dynamite.

            We all noticed the expression of joy and pride that covered Eric’s face. His expression showed that he’d really missed telling his jokes to Mara and Matt. Of course, it could’ve been that Cheryl didn't show enough appreciation of his jokes, or not as much as Eric thought she should have, when they were forced to be together a lot while Maragold and Matt were preoccupied with their magic show.

            "Wow!" Matt said to Eric, “Your jokes are getting a little better. Have you been taking lessons from a 'good' joke teller?”

            Eric’s smile sparkled. He had the most perfect teeth, that made such a wonderful smile. If the light was just right, his teeth sparkled. He was a nice looking kid, too, so he could have performed a great toothpaste commercial on TV. His attitude was almost always happy, fun-loving, and, most of all, contagious. I could see the immediate effect of his contagious personality, especially on Maragold and Matt. All four friends were now in a very happy and very silly mood.

            “OK, listen to this,” Cheryl said enthusiastically. “Pretend that this is a math problem and there's ten cats that work for the Xerox Corporation. They all go on a fishing trip together. They're all in a boat that's in the middle of a lake. If one of those cats jumps out of the boat, how many cats remain in the boat?” Cheryl smiled and looked at Eric, then at Mara and Matt.

            “Um,” Eric mumbled, “Ten cats minus one cat leaves nine cats still in the boat. But that’s too easy and it’s not funny so it can’t be the right answer.” Eric looked at Maragold and Matt, but they shook their heads indicating they didn't know the answer either. Eric’s forehead wrinkled and he thought harder about Cheryl’s question, but finally he said, with a puzzled look on his face, “Oh, I give up. What’s the answer?”

            Cheryl calmly answered, “None are left,” and she grinned teasingly at Eric.

            Eric’s feathers were ruffled now. In a huff, he said, “How could that be the answer if only one of those ‘Mr. Meows’ jumped out of the boat? That just doesn’t make any sense.”

            “There’s none left because they were all copycats. . . .D’you get it? They worked for Xerox, the copy machine company,” Cheryl said, as she teasingly slapped Eric on the back.

            It only took a second for the three friends to understand the surprise answer and then they all laughed, though, Eric hesitated, and when he did laugh, he didn't do it as enthusiastically as the others.

            But the really nice thing, since I could read their thoughts, was that they were all thinking that it was so good to be back together like they used to be, especially at their silly and happy lunchtimes. However, I noticed that they didn't see their group as being only the four of them any more. Now they had other good friends, such as: Courtney, Alexis, Leah, Brandon, Christopher, Kelly, Nick, Jason and Kyle, that they shared their humor and activities with, especially at the lunch table.

            Matt said, “I found out, yesterday, that Misdemeanor’s birthday is April second. I overheard her and Mr. Baldon (Matt was using the silly, teasing names that the group had given their teacher and the principal) talking about it when we were lined up, in the hallway, for lunch. They were standing right next to me so I could hear them clearly.” Matt paused, thought about what he’d just said, and added, “But I can’t think of anything funny to do with that information. Can any of you? My only thought was that her birthday is one day too late for her, you know what I mean?” Matt winked, smiled, then shrugged his shoulders as he waited for a response.

            The other three friends looked at each other for a moment and giggled before Maragold surprised me by saying, “Yeah, she should have been born one day sooner, then the ‘day’ and her ‘personality’ would be a perfect match.”

            More laughter followed Maragold’s comment, but no one suggested anything funny that they could do for laughs on April Fool’s Day. To me, that seemed very strange and quite unusual for this fun-loving, joke-telling, trick-playing group. But perhaps that was a good thing because Miss Demener would be reviewing for the social studies test that was coming up the day after tomorrow. They all knew that they needed the time to study instead of using precious time thinking of tricks to play, especially since Miss Demener’s tests were usually difficult.

            Maragold thought that Miss Demener liked it when her students worried about her tests. She may even take pleasure in seeing them get nervous and sweat about her difficult tests. Maybe, Maragold thought, that’s why the test was scheduled to be given on her own birthday. Perhaps it was a birthday present to herself.

            “Personally,” said Eric, “I wish I had lived a thousand years ago instead of now.” He sounded serious.

            “Now why on Earth would you say that?” Matt responded with a sound of disbelief in his voice.

            “Because, just think how much social studies and history I wouldn’t have to learn!” blurted Eric. He rolled his eyes for an added humorous effect.

            Now that they realized Eric was joking, the others laughed, giving him credit for his cleverness. Laughter came from other parts of the lunch table, too.

            I thought of a fun April Fool’s Day trick, but I waited until after school to discuss it with Maragold. She immediately said she liked it, so she phoned Matt and told him about the trick. He liked it, too, so he called Eric, and Maragold called Cheryl, to tell them about the idea. Of course, I didn’t want to be mentioned so I told Maragold to take credit for my plan. Cheryl and Eric also liked the plan, so all four friends agreed that they should use it during tomorrow’s social studies test review lesson.

            But then I started having second-thoughts about my trick and feeling guilty about suggesting it. Although it did originally sound like fun, I was afraid that the plan would backfire and get one or all of them in trouble with Miss Demener. I hesitated, but I didn't discourage them from completing the plan.

            When they all arrived at school the next morning, some final arrangements, which I had discussed with Maragold the night before, were whispered to Matt, Cheryl and Eric.

            If the plan worked well, Miss Demener would be shocked and confused, and the other students, would be laughing so hard that their stomach muscles would be sore. If anything went wrong with the plan, then the group would probably be in trouble. My doubts and guilt grew, but it was too late to stop now.

            Matt said he thought the plan was nearly “fool-proof.” Maragold said that if that was true, then Misdemeanor definitely wouldn’t be able to figure it out.

            Eric was tempted to tell some students that something exciting, strange, and fun would happen during the afternoon social studies lesson, but I planted a suggestion in his thoughts that made him change his mind. Cheryl, on the other hand, was cool and patient, enjoying the thought of the fun to come.

            At lunchtime the details of the plan were quietly discussed among the friends. Cheryl kept asking what Mara and Matt would do if they didn't know the answers to Miss Demener's review questions. They couldn't tell her about me, so I suggested that they tell Cheryl that they saw a copy of the review questions and memorized all the answers. It wasn't true, but it satisfied Cheryl. After the plan was discussed, the remainder of lunchtime was loud with excited talking and laughter, just like it usually is.

            After lunch, as always, Miss Demener allowed everyone a chance to use the bathroom. Then, when everyone was back at their desks, she told the students to listen carefully to today’s social studies review lesson which was about “The Great Depression” that started in America in 1929, and how it affected businesses and people in the whole country, but particularly how if affected the people and businesses in New York State.

            Almost everyone sat straight up and looked at Miss Demener. The students had learned rather quickly that her roving eyes looked for anyone who didn’t seem to be paying attention. If you were the person she suspected of not paying attention, then you would be asked the next question. Maragold and Matt knew that fact better than anyone else in the classroom, so they were deliberately not paying attention to her. They were both looking out the window. Miss Demener spotted this immediately and, like a hawk that has seen a field mouse, Miss Demener did exactly what we knew she would do.

            Miss Demener stared at Maragold and Matt; her angry eyes constantly shifting between the two of them. She glanced at the other students as her lips bent into a mean, "McDonald’s Arch" frown.

            From experience, Miss Demener knew that if she said a student’s name before asking them a question, then the student would be alerted by the sound of their own name. Hearing their own name would then alert the student to pay attention to the teacher's question, which would automatically follow the sound of the student’s name. This way of saying the student's name first, then asking the question, gave the mentally quick student time to recover from not paying attention so that they were able to hear all, or at least part of, the teacher’s question. Then they would have a good chance of answering the question without having to admit that they weren’t paying attention. This type of questioning technique was an “advantage for the student” and would not produce the embarrassing results that Miss Demener wanted. That's exactly why Miss Demener decided not to use this technique.

            Miss Demener was not a naive, new teacher. She had two or three years of experience, and she was clever. That's why she knew that when she asked a question "before" she called the name of an inattentive student to answer it, that student wouldn't have a very good chance of hearing the whole question, or they would only hear part of it. That would give the inattentive student a poor chance of answering the question correctly. This questioning technique gave the “advantage to the teacher.” So this is the questioning technique that she decided use in order to trap Mara, and embarrass her for not paying attention¾but we know differently, don’t we, dear reader?

CHAPTER 15:  SOCIAL STUDIES CLASS

            “What is a stock market?” asked Miss Demener in a low voice. Then, after a slight pause, Miss Demener spoke louder as she asked Mara to answer the question.

            I was at my usual spot, standing on one of Maragold’s shoulder so I could be close to her ear. We had agreed that if she or Matt didn't know the answer, I would help them with it to make the trick work. But I also made it perfectly clear that I would not help them with any answers on the real social studies test, or on any other tests. They both understood and agreed.

            Maragold replied quickly, but casually, to Miss Demener’s question, by saying, “A stock market is a place where shares of stock from companies are bought and sold.” I was very happy that she knew the answer without my help.

            Miss Demener was clearly disappointed that Maragold gave the correct answer. Miss Demener’s distorted smile vanished and was replaced by a scowl. Her eyes now spotted the fact that Matt still was not paying attention, and seemed to be “day-dreaming” as he continued to stare out the classroom windows. So Miss Demener switched her focus to Matt, spoke with a soft voice and asked, “What are shares of stock, . . . Matt?” She gave an unusually long pause between the words stock and Matt in order to increase the chance that he wouldn't hear the question and wouldn't be able to answer it.

            I flew to Matt’s left shoulder just as he snapped his head around, from right to left, so he could look at Miss Demener. This action made his nose slam into me and almost knocked me off his shoulder. As I was trying to recover my balance I swung my arms around vigorously and accidentally slapped my magic wand against Matt’s left ear, and the pain caused him to yell, “Ouch!” Naturally he reached up quickly to put his fingers on his hurt left ear. That quick and unexpected action did knock me off his shoulder. I had to float up and settle on his head just to be out of the way and feel safe. But now I felt like I was in a nest of rabbits because there were plenty of “hares” where I was standing. . . .Sorry, dear reader, I couldn't resist that joke.

            Matt was already quite sure that he would be asked the next question so he was waiting for it as he pretended to be staring out the windows. However, he was not expecting to be hit in the ear with my magic wand, nor did I know that that was going to happen. He rubbed his ear and looked at Miss Demener, who, like the students, was looking at him strangely.

            “What did you say?” Miss Demener asked him with a puzzled voice.

            “Oh, nothing,” Matt replied. “What I meant to say was that a share of stock represents part ownership in a company. When someone buys a company’s stock, they get to share in the company’s profits, if that company makes a profit.”

            Matt was still rubbing his ear, which had turned red, when he finished his answer. Then a silly smile settled on his face, replacing the look of pain.

            Again, I was glad that he knew the answer without my help. I’m glad that I insisted that they both study extra hard the night before, so they wouldn’t need much, if any, help from me.

            Giving Maragold and Matt the answers to the questions was one part that nearly made me not offer my idea for playing this trick on Miss Demener. I didn't want Matt¾Maragold already knew this from last year¾to think that I would cheat and give answers to the real test questions.

            If anyone else wasn't paying attention, they were now. There was the feeling of excitement in the air, like the room was full of static electricity and that, soon, sparks would fly. The students sensed that Miss Demener was irritated by her failure to trick Maragold, or Matt.

            No one else but me noticed the black hairs on Miss Demener’s arms stand up as if they were soldiers suddenly snapping-to-attention before saluting an officer. Miss Demener glared at Maragold and Matt, realizing that she was the one that got tricked by them, instead of them being tricked by her. She felt foolish, embarrassed, and knew that all the students could see it. But with great effort she calmed herself and forced a smile at Mara and Matt. She knew that, sooner or later, she would ask a question they couldn't answer and then she would have the last laugh.

            She also realized that it was useless to use her unsuccessful, question-asking method since Mara and Matt were aware of what she was doing. Her plan now was to ask more difficult questions and see what happened. Her eyes roamed, like spot-lights, over the other students, making them nervous, worried, and sorry that they had laughed.

            I was with Maragold now as Miss Demener decided to continue with the review questions. She asked, “Mara, the price of stocks depends on ‘supply and demand.’ What does supply and demand mean?”

            Maragold smiled at Miss Demener, just as Matt had done. The smiling bothered Miss Demener more than when Maragold and Matt answered the questions correctly. Miss Demener’s lips started to twitch, then her eye lids started blinking faster than normal. It looked funny, but everyone was too nervous to laugh.

            Mara answered, “It means that the amount of stock for sale, the supply, and how many people want to buy it, the demand, determines how much money the stock can be sold for. In 1928 and 1929 many people wanted to buy stocks. This caused the prices of stocks to rise. But in October of 1929, stock prices began to fall fast because very few people wanted to buy them. Then the people who had already bought stocks tried to sell them quickly, before the prices went down too far. But with so many people trying to sell their stocks all as once, the value of those stocks dropped so low that very few people thought they were even worth buying.”

            I had helped Maragold with the second part of that detailed answer.

            Miss Demener’s upper lip started to twitch, again, and she blinked her eyes as if she was trying to clear her vision, or clear some dust from her eyes. Then she focused on Mara while the other students appeared to be in a delightful trance, as if not even Christmas could produce as much excitement as they were having now.

            I was having some bad feelings about how wise I was to suggest this plan to Maragold and Matt. I wondered if I had made a big mistake by leading Maragold and Matt into performing this trick on Miss Demener. It was entertaining for the students, but Miss Demener’s face showed confusion due to all the unexpected correct answers. I started to feel ashamed until I thought about how mean she was to her students.

            Miss Demener glanced away from Maragold. Her look of frustration focused on Matt. “Matt, was the stock market crash in 1929 the only cause of the Great Depression?” she asked. She was hoping he wouldn’t know the answer so she wouldn’t feel as embarrassed and foolish in front of the whole class.

            Matt stared straight ahead as if in deep thought. Actually he was trying to gain extra time before he had to answer Miss Demener. Her question was totally unexpected and hadn't been studied. As a matter of fact, as far as he could remember, it wasn't even part of the lessons that she taught the class. He was wondering if the answer was part of the “extra information” section at the end of the chapter. But Miss Demener had told the students that they only needed to know that “extra information” section if they intended to answer the “extra credit” question that would be at the end of the social studies test.

            Matt cleared his throat and straightened himself in his chair to gain a few more seconds of time that was needed for me to fly to his shoulder and tell him the answer. I thought about telling him to say, “I don’t know,” with the hope of making Miss Demener less frustrated, but I quickly changed my mind. I knew that saying “I don’t know” to Miss Demener's question would be like waving a red cape in front of an angry bull. It would only lead to a loud, verbal insult from her. So I whispered a detailed answer to Matt and told him to act calmly and not to intentionally irritate Miss Demener because this social studies trick was only supposed to confuse her, not anger her.

            “No, Miss Demener. There were other causes,” responded Matt, in a very respectful tone of voice. “For example, industry was producing too many products. People couldn't buy as many things as were being made in the factories. So by the end of the 1920s many factory warehouses were packed with extra products that couldn't be sold.

            “With the factory warehouses full of unsold products, the factory owners had to stop producing as many products. That meant that they didn't need as many workers. So the factory owners had to lay off many workers. So now . . . "

            “What does 'lay off' mean, Matt?" said Miss Demener.

            “Sorry I skipped that, Miss Demener. 'Lay off' means that a worker loses his job. Sometimes it’s temporary, but it can be permanent, and it was permanent for many of these factory workers.” Matt paused and looked at Miss Demener.

            “Go on,” was her only comment.

            “So now even more people were without jobs. Almost all the factories had to do this, and many factories permanently closed so that everyone who worked there lost their job. By 1930, over four million people didn’t have jobs. These unemployed people didn't have money to buy factory-made products, and that made even more people lose their jobs.

            “Also, there was a lot of buying using a new system called credit. Buying things using "credit" means that products could be bought, but didn’t have to be paid for until a later date. It also meant that those products could be paid for a little at a time instead of paying the full price of the product. We still have this system of buying things with ‘credit cards.’ The problem was that millions of people bought products using this system of credit, and that meant that fewer people were paying the full price at the time that they bought a product. So thousands of businesses around the country had to close because their customers either didn’t pay their bills at the time they purchased a product, or they only paid the bill a little at a time. But those ways of paying bills were too slow for the business owners who had their own bills to pay. So when the business owners couldn’t pay their own bills, they had to close their factory and all the workers lost their jobs.”

            Everyone was staring at Matt now. Even Miss Demener was totally surprised at the unusually detailed answer that he had given. She didn’t understand how he could know that answer in such great detail. She thought, "Did he memorize the whole chapter? Did he do extra research?"

            Matt continued, “And, finally, many banks didn't use their customers’ savings wisely. Many banks used their customers' money to invest poorly in  the stock market. So when the stock market crashed, the banks lost all, or most, of their customers’ money. And to make things worse, there was no insurance on that money back in those days, like there is today. So those banks had no money to give back to their customers who had just lost all the money that they had saved in those banks. That’s all I know about it, Miss Demener.”

            Miss Demener’s facial expression showed a combination of confusion and shock. She was also angry and frustrated by Matt’s incredible answer. She thought, "Are Matt and Mara much smarter than I've given them credit for?" She couldn't answer her own question, so her confusion grew, and her growing "confusion" was causing a growing "irritation."

            She wanted to tell him that his answer was wrong, or at least partly wrong, but she knew that wouldn’t work. Any student could look in their social studies book or do further research to find that Matt did a remarkable job of answering the question. The twitch in her lips grew stronger and her eye-blinking increased. That gave her face a very comical look.

            Miss Demener could see both Mara and Matt sitting erect and paying attention to her. She felt foggy-headed and couldn't figure out what was going on. Something very strange was happening that she didn't understand, but she wouldn’t give up yet. She would figure it out soon, she thought. She'd ask more questions, and that would give her more time to think.

            When I realized she was going to ask more questions, I returned to Maragold’s shoulder.

            “Mara, did President Hoover think that the national government should help all these unemployed people, and why, or why not?” Miss Demener asked as she licked her dry lips and waited for Mara’s response.

            Maragold said, “President Hoover didn't think that the unemployed people should be helped by the national government. He thought it was the job of the states. He also thought that it was dangerous to help people too much because then unemployed people might not want to help themselves and would expect the government to take care of them.”

            Miss Demener’s eyes blinked rapidly and her twitching lips kept pace. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She scowled and squinted her eyes as if she had eye strain. She looked at Maragold, and asked, “Who beat President Hoover in the next presidential election?”

            This question was easy so Maragold answered it quickly. “In the 1932 Presidential election, Mr. Franklin Delano Roosevelt defeated Mr. Herbert Hoover.”

            I didn’t need to help Maragold with either of her last two answers.

            Miss Demener noticed that Maragold gave the year of the election and she wasn’t even asked for it. Miss Demener couldn’t figure out what was happening. She wondered how Mara and Matt could know all the answers. She could feel her confusion growing and it made her uncomfortable. She returned to the thought that, perhaps, she had underestimated Mara’s and Matt’s abilities. Then a pleasant feeling surged in her as she realized that maybe she had taught them well and she should feel good instead of disappointed and confused. But suddenly, her next thought was that their answers were unusually detailed and given without the normal, doubtful hesitations that most fifth graders use when answering questions. That made her irritation return full force. She thought about ending the review lesson, but her pride and curiosity wouldn't let her. Her eyes returned to Mara.

            “Mara, did President Roosevelt feel the same way about helping the unemployed people as President Hoover did?”

            “No, ma'am, he certainly did not,” said Mara very politely. “FDR felt that the national government had a responsibility to help all the unemployed people as much as possible. That’s why he started a new program that created jobs for people. FDR wanted the unemployed people to have jobs so they could earn money to pay their bills, to be able to buy things and feel good about themselves again. His new jobs program was called the ‘CCC’ and it stands for the Civilian Conservation Corps. It gave jobs to millions of unemployed workers. FDR made so many successful changes to allow the national government to help people that his years as the president are now called ‘The New Deal.’ FDR was so confident that America would recover from the Great Economic Depression that he gave hope to millions of Americans who thought that America wouldn’t recover from it. FDR told people that it would take time to recover and that the only thing they had to fear was fear itself.”

            When Mara finished, Miss Demener felt like she was having a dizzy spell. The sweat on her forehead was forming into larger beads. One bead of sweat was slowly running down her forehead. Her face was the color of the inside of a very ripe watermelon, and almost as wet. The dark colored mole on her left cheek looked like a black watermelon seed. The veins in her neck bulged and her teeth were clenched tightly together which made her jaw muscles bunch up like a chipmunk’s cheek that is stuffed with acorns.

            Miss Demener shook her head in disbelief. She felt light-headed as she thought, Maybe I'm a better teacher than I thought. Maybe the students don't dislike me as much as I thought they did. But maybe Mara and Matt are playing some trick, or maybe I'm just having a bad day. Then she thought, Mara had not only answered the question correctly, but she had also added a lot of extra, accurate information about President Roosevelt that she hadn’t even taught to the class. Miss Demener bit her lip lightly to see if she were dreaming. She felt the pain and knew that she was getting too confused. She felt a headache coming and wondered if she had high blood pressure. She couldn't explain her deep feeling of sadness, confusion, and irritation. She just wanted to go home and sleep.

            She gave Mara a dazed and comical look that the students thought was hilarious, but they kept their laughter muffled behind their hands.

            Mara’s detailed and accurate answer brought Miss Demener's confusion to a peak. She looked very tired as she slowly walked, with her head down, to her desk and dropped into her swivel chair. Her social studies teacher’s manual slipped out of her hands and onto her desk. Then, with a voice that sounded exhausted, she told the class to use the last twenty minutes of school to start their math homework. She pretended to be busy planning for the next day's lessons, but she was really waiting for the dense fog in her head to clear up.

            For the next twenty minutes she didn’t say a single word to anyone, nor did anyone in the classroom try to speak to her. She stopped pretending to work and sat rigidly, as if frozen, with her back pressed against the back of her motionless swivel chair. She stared out the windows that were on the opposite side of the room. Those students who did manage to sneak-a-peek at her were wondering if this was the calm before the storm.

            The next day, to the surprise of all the students, there was no social studies test. Miss Demener said that she could tell that the chapter about the Great Depression of 1929 was much too easy for fifth graders so there was no reason to test them about it. Now it was the students' turn to be totally confused. They thought, "How could Miss Demener think that chapter was too easy for them when she only asked questions to two students?" But then they simply smiled. It certainly was a welcomed and pleasant surprise for them since they didn't have to take the test.

            Unfortunately, the story about the cancelled test traveled around the school quickly, and even more unfortunate was the fact that Maragold and Matt became reluctant heroes.

            Eric was proud and excited about our demonstration, but Cheryl was more quiet. She was wondering how we knew the answers to questions that weren't even in the text book. Confusion was getting unexpectedly contagious.

            Eric told the group that he was really disappointed that Miss Demener didn't ask him about the "Great Depression" because he wanted to correct her facts and let her know that the "Great Depression" actually happened during the last report card period when his mom and dad saw his low grades, especially his unusually low social studies grades. The joke brought a huge smile to his face as he added that he and his whole family were in a really "great depression" for a whole week.

            We all grinned at his joke. It was good to have him around. He lifted our spirits with his natural, good humor, even if he was Mr. Weirdo, sometimes.

CHAPTER 16:  NEW ASSIGNMENT

            The delightful month of May arrived. It was sunny and warm. The trees were replacing their bald heads with green toupees and the grass was turning dark green and thick like a green, shag rug.

            The students in Miss Demener's classroom couldn’t take their eyes off the school playground. It was as if each blade of grass, each new flower, and each newly formed leaf was waving a spring greeting to them. Even the gentle whisper of a spring breeze seemed to be calling them to come outside and play. But that wasn't going to happen, not yet, anyway. A sudden, loud noise startled the spring-fevered young daydreamers to attention.

            “Everybody get in your seats for attendance and announcements!” bellowed Miss Demener. “You don’t come to school to daydream and waste time staring out the windows! You can play when school is over! In school, you work!”

            As you can tell, dear reader, Miss Demener was back to being her "old self."

            As they sat quietly, most students had the same thoughts: They were extremely pleased that fifth grade was almost over. They were thinking how happy they would be to finally get out of Miss Demener’s class. They'd be so happy, as a matter of fact, that not a single one of them cared who their sixth grade teacher would be. They just wanted to get away from Miss Demener. Any teacher at all had to be better than being cooped up in Miss Demener's classroom for ten long months, they thought.

            The day before, at lunch time, Maragold had made the wise comment that teachers were no different than people in any other job: doctors, lawyers, plumbers, carpenters, auto mechanics, store clerks, or anyone else, because in each job there were the very good ones, the average ones, and the poor ones. "Last year," she said, "we had a really good, interesting teacher, and this year we have a poor one. Luckily most teachers are pretty good."

            After morning reading class came math class, and after that it was time for a spelling lesson. This week’s spelling chapter was the study of words that started with the letters “de.”

            “Cheryl,” Miss Demener said, “Would you use the words defeat, defense and detail in a sentence, or sentences, so that your sentence, or sentences, demonstrate the meaning of each word?”

            It wasn’t like Cheryl to start a joke or fool around unless someone else in her close group of friends started it. She was generally serious, sometimes shy, but she didn’t hesitate to join in on the fun once it started. We were all surprised to see a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

            We wondered what she was up to. Since Maragold and Matt had totally confused Miss Demener in the last social studies class, the classroom had been rather quiet with no one wanting to upset Miss Demener, especially since most of students wanted to go outside after lunch. Some of the other classes had been going outside for a couple of weeks already.

            Cheryl cleared her throat and seriously, with no hint of a smile or smirk, said, “Yes, ma’am. My dog ran toward a fence and when he jumped over it, defeat went over defense before detail.”

            Cheryl could only keep that serious look on her face for a second or two. Then she covered her mouth with her hand to try to hide both her smile and her giggle. She was looking at Miss Demener, hoping to see a shred of a sense of humor in her. She should have known better. After all, one doesn’t realistically squeeze a desert rock and expect to see water squirt out of it, do they?

            Miss Demener might have had a shred of humor hidden somewhere inside some remote brain cell, but she was not about to show it, especially since she didn't think Cheryl was either clever or funny. She accused Cheryl of wasting time and acting like a baby, then sent her to the back of the room to stand in a corner for the remainder of the spelling lesson.

            If you could read thoughts, like I can, you’d know that most of the students in the classroom envied Cheryl’s sudden, but perhaps ill-timed, display of courage and cleverness. Also, they thought they’d prefer standing in the corner, like Cheryl, rather than having to look at and listen to Miss Demener.

            Miss Demener used her eyes as an intimidating weapon. It was a very uncomfortable feeling to be stared at by her. She didn't feel the need to treat students with friendliness, respect, or fairness. She was their teacher, not their friend, and, to her, friendly chit chat just wasted teaching/learning time. She was a "no non-sense" and "emotionally distant" teacher, so it was impossible for her students to develop any genuine respect, or liking for her. They did, of course, show her a false respect based on fear. She didn’t seem to understand¾or maybe she just didn't care¾that students who genuinely like, respect and admire their teacher also behave better, learn more, and academically perform better. Those students want to please their teacher, receive the teacher’s praise and feel proud of themselves. They also want acceptance from a caring adult. Miss Demener either didn't understand, or didn't care about any of those things that can help make a better student. She certainly was smart; she knew the subject matter well, and could teach it well. It was the social and personal interactions with students, and the insights into their thinking and behaviors that she failed so badly at. She also failed badly at motivating them to want to learn, and to see learning as an exciting, fun activity. So being very smart didn't matter if she couldn't understand, care about, and motivate her students.

            I felt sad for the students in her classroom. I also felt powerless. I didn't want to play mean, upsetting tricks on her either. But that doesn't mean I won't help play tricks on her, just nothing seriously upsetting. It doesn't make sense to me to be "cruel" to someone, to teach them a lesson about not being "cruel" to you.

            The worst part of May didn't occur until a couple of weeks later when every one had to get in front of the classroom to give a ten minute oral report on a subject that Miss Demener had assigned to each student¾whether or not they were interested in it.

Miss Demener used some fancy words to tell the students that this assignment would help improve their discipline, their study skills, their research skills, and their writing skills. Then, in a stern voice, followed by a strained smile, she assigned the oral report topics to each student. No one complained. What good would it do?

            Maragold saw how nervous and frustrated these oral report assignments were making most of the students. She also noticed how much Miss Demener seemed to enjoy their discomfort, or did she think that this was part of leaning "discipline?" Some of the topics had absolutely no appeal to some students. For example, some of the girls were assigned football and baseball historical topics that they knew nothing about and cared nothing about. Some of the boys were assigned topics about the manufacturing of clothes and how to become a chef.

            Maragold was determined not to let Miss Demener see that she was unhappy with her topic assignment, although she had to admit, her assignment didn’t look nearly as bad as some of the other topics, and it might even be interesting. Her oral report topic was: How the days of the week got their names. Maragold, however, was sure that Miss Demener didn't intend for her to be happy with that topic. Maragold thought, "I wonder if Miss Demener thinks this topic is boring, or maybe she thinks it's a topic that will be very difficult to research, or perhaps she knows that it will involve a very large amount of 'busy work' to complete the assignment."

            Since Maragold didn't want to give Miss Demener the satisfaction of seeing her act unhappy, or doubtful about her assignment, she acted pleased about her topic, then said, “Oh, thank you Miss Demener. This topic sounds very interesting. I can’t wait to get started on it. This report is going to be a lot of fun.”

            The smile vanished from Miss Demener’s face like the happy smile of a child vanishes after its favorite toy is taken away. Miss Demener asked, “You don't mind me selecting the topic for you? I know Mr. Bunnlow lets his students choose their own topics, and I know that you were in his classroom last year.”

            Maragold may only be in the fifth grade, but she was a bright girl. She already knew that Miss Demener disliked Mr. Bunnlow. She didn't understand why Miss Demener disliked Mr. Bunnlow, but Maragold did know that almost all of the students in his classes liked and respected him. They felt that they had not only learned a lot while in his fourth grade class, but had a lot of fun doing it. Maybe Miss Demener disliked Mr. Bunnlow simply because so many students liked him and disliked her.

            Maragold’s response to Miss Demener’s questions was, “Oh, heavens no, Miss Demener. This way no one can blame me for a poor choice of a topic. Actually, you're probably doing everyone a really big favor by choosing the topics for them. That way none of us has to worry, or be anxious about appropriate topics, or topics that are too easy. If we could choose our own topics, we would just have to come to you for your approval, like we did with Mr. Bunnlow. I'm sure you'd find some lazy students whose topics were way too easy, or inappropriate. This way, with you choosing the topics for us, we can skip that step, not have to worry about it, and not waste time. So, thank you very much for helping us.”

            I whispered a warning to Maragold about not teasing Miss Demener any more, or she may change her topic to one that is a lot less interesting. I was glad Maragold listened, and showed enough self-control to say no more about it. It wasn't like her to tease, or be sarcastic. I told her that I didn't approve of that kind of behavior towards any teacher, but I had to admit, Miss Demener certainly did have a natural talent for drawing out the negative attitudes that normally polite, friendly people would rather keep hidden inside themselves. Nobody is perfect, and Miss Demener's unreasonably mean personality quickly pulled out and made visible the bad traits in children, adults, . . . and leprechauns.

            I could see the concealed anger in Miss Demener’s eyes, although she hid it behind a calm voice and a crafty smile. I knew how much she disliked Maragold for saying those things, but she disliked Maragold even more for being clever about it. As a matter of fact, it has become obvious to me that Miss Demener doesn't like smart, clever students. They were a challenge and a threat to her power and authority. She saw herself as the "queen bee" of her classroom hive, and saw the students as her "worker bees."

            Unfortunately, Miss Demener’s frustration level increased even further when she assigned Matt the topic: How the months of the year got their names. Matt copied Maragold’s false happiness with his assigned topic, which, of course, made Miss Demener more frustrated. She wasn’t the type of person to forgive and forget. She was more of a get even type of person. But Matt had already learned this about her so he didn't try to irritate her any further. He just accepted his topic, said, “Thank you,” and smiled politely. Then he wondered why his and Mara's topics were so similar. Was it a trick, or a trap?

            Personally, I couldn't understand why Miss Demener thought Maragold and Matt would dislike their topics. To me those topics sounded like interesting topics to research and learn about. Then I realized that Miss Demener was thinking that the "days of the week" and the "months of the year" were so commonplace that they would make very dull, boring and uninteresting oral reports. She also thought that finding information concerning both topics would be very difficult. I also knew that she couldn’t change Maragold’s and Matt’s assignments now without looking bad in front of the other students. It would look as if she had made a mistake, and she certainly wouldn't want to admit to making a mistake.

            A week later, on the day of the oral reports presentations, Maragold was called first¾big surprise, right? Miss Demener said, “Mara, are you ready to present your oral report? You can demonstrate for all of us how a good oral report is presented."

            Many times I've wondered if Miss Demener's anger and moodiness was the result of depression. She certainly demonstrated many of the signs of depression. Nothing and no one seemed like fun to her, and she had an attitude of hopelessness concerning her class and herself. Her thoughts were sometimes so mixed up and contradictory that I couldn't read them clearly. But she was thinking clearly now. She was thinking that if she called Mara first and could find errors, even minor ones, then she could make an example of Mara and get even with her for trying to be so clever and arrogant, a week ago, when the oral report topics were assigned.

            Maragold looked at Miss Demener, gave a nervous smile, then shook her head up and down to indicate that she was ready. But instead of telling her to go to the front of the room to give her oral report, Miss Demener startled the whole class by yelling, “Mara! You didn't answer me. Are you ready to present your oral report? Are you hesitating because you didn't research your topic as well as you were supposed to, and according to the guidelines that I passed out?"

            I whispered, telling Maragold to be polite. So, with difficulty, Maragold said, “Miss Demener, I followed all of the guidelines that you gave us for writing and presenting this report, including the use of library reference books and computer research websites. And I did answer your question, although I didn't do it verbally. I looked at you and shook my head up and down to show you that I was ready. I thought you saw me, but I guess you didn't.”

            Miss Demener showed one of her impatient smiles and sarcastically said, “Well, shaking your head at a person isn't polite. I expect you to speak to me when I ask you a question. After all, Miss Shane, you can’t really expect me to hear that rattling noise when you shake your head. So please, from now on, use your best squeaky-mouse voice when you answer my questions.”

            Maragold didn't move. She just sat at her desk, and was speechless, and hurt. I sat on her shoulder, silent and disturbed by the intensity of Miss Demener’s unfair sarcasm. Was it time for me to try to do something about her behavior? If her problem was due to "depression," then medication and therapy could control it. But would she get help willingly? I didn't know and, to tell you the truth, I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how.

            Maragold was so thoroughly surprised by her teacher’s mean insult that the shock kept her frozen to her seat. I could feel Maragold’s complete embarrassment as well as feel the heat from her flushed face. Miss Demener had gotten even with Maragold. For Maragold to give her report now, in front of the whole class, with her face bright red from embarrassment, would be extremely difficult. I whispered encouragement to her and, thankfully, she had an inner strength and courage that helped her to successfully fight back her tears. The hurt she felt went deeply inside of her, but hid it. She calmed herself, gathered her inner strength, self-confidence, and her remaining pride, then walked to the front of the classroom.

CHAPTER 17:  ORAL REPORTS

            Maragold began by saying, “The title of my report is: How The Days of the Week Got Their Names.

            "The first day of the week, Sunday, got its name from the sun. In ancient times most people worshipped the sun god because it gave heat and light and was believed to be the source of all life because it made plants grow.

“Because they were the most wonderful and mysterious things in nature, next to the sun, the moon and stars were also worshipped as gods, but they were thought to have less power than the sun god. In those ancient times . . . ”

            “Excuse me, Mara, but don’t you think it would be appropriate to define both ancient and worship for the class in order to provide clarity of understanding to your report?” Miss Demener was hoping to make Mara nervous, which might cause her to make a mistake that she could use to further embarrass her.

            “No, ma’am," Maragold said in a mildly defiant tone, even though I advised her not to do it. "I don’t believe that it’s necessary because I don’t think there’s anyone in our class who doesn’t already know the meaning of those words.”

            “Well now, it appears that you are making a mistake by assuming too much. Let’s see if your assumption is correct. Would the students in my class who don't know, or are not sure of the meaning of one or both of the words ancient and worship, please raise your hand.”

            A few giggles and anonymous laughter could be heard in the classroom, then the room became silent.

            Miss Demener was sure that someone would raise their hand so she could prove to Mara that she had assumed too much. Then she realized that she was being foolish because even if some students didn’t know the meaning of one, or both of those words, they wouldn't raise their hand and help her prove Mara was wrong. Miss Demener wondered if she should choose some students and ask them to define those words. But she quickly decided that Mara was probably correct, so it was too big a risk for her to make any further challenge about the issue. Miss Demener simply said, “Fine. Please continue, Mara.”

            “Yes, ma’am. As I was saying, In those ancient times the moon was thought to be the wife of the sun, and the mother of all things, just as the sun was thought to be the father of all things. These ancient people imagined that their sun god rode his golden chariot by day, and their moon goddess rode her silver chariot at night. The sun god was thought to be everything that's mighty, fierce and strong, while the moon goddess was thought to be everything that’s gentle, beautiful and good. This second day of the week, named for the moon goddess, was originally called moon-day, but, over the years, that name has been shortened and is now called Monday.

            “Tuesday, the third day of the week, was named for the brave Norse war god, Tyr. Ancient stories about him say that he was a mighty warrior who captured a fierce wolf after it bit one of his arms off in a battle.”

            I whispered in Maragold’s ear that Miss Demener was ready to challenge her about the meaning of Norse. I knew that Maragold had accidentally skipped the definition of Norse, so I told her to quickly give its meaning in order to prevent Miss Demener from interrupting her report again.

            Quickly, Maragold said, “Norse refers to the ancient people who lived in Norway. They pronounced "Tyr" like we would pronounce "Tur." So the third day of the week was said to be "Tur's Day" and eventually became known as Tuesday.

            “Now the fourth day of the week, Wednesday, was named for Woden, who was the chief god of these same Norse people. This day was called "Woden's Day." It was said that Woden was the ruler of Valhalla, which was a beautiful, peaceful place where heroes went when they were killed in battle. The Norse people's Valhalla would be like our Heaven.

            “The fifth day of the week, Thursday, was named for a very famous god named Thor, so Thursday was originally called "Thor's Day." Thor was the Norse people's god of thunder and lightning. Thor is said to have had the cheerful and playful habit of using lightning flashes as hammers. So the thunder that we all hear after we see lightning is supposed to be the loud noise caused by Thor banging his lightning hammers.”

            I knew that Maragold was feeling more comfortable now, and that Miss Demener was not as anxious to interrupt her. I thought: Was that because the report started to interest her? I don't know the answer because her thoughts were covered by a thick, mental fog. Elder O'Keefe failed to tell me that reading human thoughts could be very difficult because of the many forms of mental interferences that may occur. I wondered: Didn't Leprechaun thoughts have those kinds of interferences, too? I would have to ask Elder O'Keefe about that.

            Maragold continued, “The sixth day of the week, Friday, is named for Freya, who was the wife of Woden, the most important Norse god. Freya was also very important because she was the mother of Thor, the Norse god of thunder and lightning. Freya’s Day is known today as Friday.

            “Saturday is the seventh and last day of the week. The Romans named the planet Saturn after their god of agriculture. Agriculture means raising crops and animals for food. Saturn is the second largest planet; the one with all the colorful rings around it. The god, Saturn, was worshipped by the people in the ancient Roman Empire whose most important city was Rome, Italy. The Roman people, not the Norse people, dedicated the last day of the week to the worship of their god, Saturn. This day was originally called "Saturn's Day," but is now know as "Saturday." To the Romans, Saturday was a day of feasting¾eating a lot¾as well as playing games and enjoying other entertaining activities. This is probably why people now treat Saturday like a holiday almost everywhere in the world. So now on Saturdays most adults don’t have to go to work, and most kids don't have to go to school."

            Maragold looked up from her notes, and said to the class, “That's the end of my report. I hope it was interesting.”

            Maragold walked to Miss Demener’s desk, and handed her the report. Miss Demener just stared at her, making Maragold feel uncomfortable. As Maragold walked back to her desk she could feel Miss Demener’s eyes on her back, like two laser beams burning into her skin. Maragold thought, "Why would someone who dislikes kids want to become a teacher? Why is she allowed to continue? Other teachers and the principal must know about her very poor attitude toward her students." Maragold sat down and avoided looking at Miss Demener. She tried to replace her bad feelings with good feelings by thinking about summer vacation. Then her thoughts turned to Matt as she silently wished him "good luck."

            “OK, Matt. Present your report to the class,” said Miss Demener after she stopped staring at Maragold. Then she added, “I hope your report is a little better than Mara’s was. Apparently Mr. Bunnlow accepts dull oral reports. I think that my standards are a bit higher than his. OK, Matt. You may begin.”

            Maragold knew that Miss Demener wanted to make her and Matt look silly in front of the other students. Maragold noticed something that Miss Demener either missed, or misunderstood: The students who laughed when Mara was giving her report, were not laughing with Miss Demener, they were laughing at her. In their thoughts they were laughing at her foolishness. Maragold thought that Miss Demener was blinded to this fact by her own anger, and the need to demonstrate her power over everyone in her classroom. She saw Matt look at her so she smiled, and gave him the "thumb-up" sign of encouragement.

            Matt began by saying, “The title of my report is: How The Months of the Year Got Their Names.

            "Did you know that the names of four of our modern calendar months are simply the names of Roman numbers? Those four months are the names of numbers from the very old Roman language called Latin. Latin is called a 'dead' language. That means that Latin is rarely used, or spoken any more. But those four Latin numbers have become the names of four of our months. I'll tell you about them later in my report because I want to start with the first month of the year.

            "January is the first month of a new year. January is a very good name for the first month of a new year because it was named for the old Roman god, Janus. Janus was the god of beginnings and endings. On statues, Janus is shown as having two faces. One face looks toward the past, which is the old year, and the other face looks toward the future, which is the new year. So on January first we say good-bye to the old year, the past, and we say hello to the new year, the future.

            “The name of the second month, February, comes from Februa who was the Roman god of cleanliness. So February, in Roman cities, was the month for Roman citizens to completely clean and air-out their temples and homes. This reason, however, has lost its meaning to today's modern people because February is too cold to open the windows and doors so that we can completely clean and air-out our modern buildings and houses.

            “The third month, March, was named for Mars, the Roman god of war. The planet, Mars, is also named after this same god of war. The Romans thought of March as a windy, snowy, and very cold month that was full of violent storms that defeated and killed the green earth and its plants every year. This killing of the green earth reminded the Romans of war, and that is why March was named for their god of war."

            "Matt, did your research tell you why the planet Mars was named after the Roman god of war? You just told us why the month of March was named after the Roman god of war, but why is Mars named after the Roman god of war?"

            "It had something to do with its reddish color. Even when looking at it from Earth it appears to be a reddish color. And  I know that Mars is sometimes called the 'Red Planet.' But I couldn't find an explanation, so I thought it was best not to mention it since I could not explain it. I could . . . "

            "You could have asked for help, and you should have. But, perhaps I can help. You are correct about Mars being called the Red Planet because the soil on Mars had a reddish color. But why is the soil a reddish color? Well, scientists say that the red color comes from the many iron particles that are in the soil. When iron rusts it changes to a reddish color and that’s why the soil on Mars appears red. When the Romans saw Mars in the night sky, it looked red. This red color reminded the Romans of the color of blood, and blood reminded them of war. Therefore, the Romans named the planet Mars after their god of war. Okay?"

            "Yes. Thank you for the help," said Matt, nervously.

            "You were careless and lazy for not finding that detail, Matt. That little detail should have been included in your report. Now continue," Miss Demener demanded with a stern voice.

            The blush on Matt's face showed that he was embarrassed, but he continued. “The fourth month, April, was named in honor of, Aprilis, the Roman goddess of birth. The month of April was said to be the time when the earth was reborn after waking-up from its winter sleep. To the Romans, April was the month when the earth came alive and turned green again with the coming of spring time. The Romans welcomed and celebrated this rebirth of the earth just as they would welcome and celebrate the birth of a new born baby.

            “May is the fifth month. It gets its name from Maia, the Roman goddess of springtime plant growth. Maia was the daughter of Atlas. Atlas was the Roman god that held the Earth on his shoulders. You may have seen drawings, or pictures of him holding the Earth, in books, magazines, or on TV. Maia was an important Roman goddess because she was the mother of Mercury, the messenger god. Mercury had wings on his heels which gave him the power and speed to deliver messages between Earth, where humans lived, and heaven, where the Roman gods lived. You may have seen a picture of Mercury at an FTD Florist shop where they use a picture of him as a symbol of their very fast flower delivery service. So the month of May was also named for Maia as a special honor for having such an important son who could deliver messages to all the other gods.

            “June is the. . . ”

            Miss Demener interrupted Matt, again, with an impatient tone of voice, saying, “Stop there, Matt. All these facts about Roman gods and goddesses are so dry and boring that it makes me think that you and Mara did your reports together. Does the rest of your report continue in the same way?”

            Matt thought he was prepared for any negative comments from Miss Demener, but he still couldn't help being embarrassed, again, no matter how hard he tried not to be. He felt his face turn hot and knew it must also be red. He could see, by Miss Demener's smile, that she had noticed his embarrassment. He couldn't pretend not to be bothered by her remark. He glanced at Mara, and saw her give him a smile and another "thumb-up" sign of encouragement. Then he looked back at Miss Demener and responded, “Yes, the second half of my report is mostly factual, like the first half. But you said, in your written guidelines for our oral reports, that you would be looking for accuracy and details. All the facts that I’m giving about how the months got their names are as accurate and as detailed as I could fit into a ten minute report.”

            Miss Demener slowly shook her head back forth as if talking to Matt about his report was hopeless. So she just flicked the back of her right hand out in front of her as if swatting at an insect, then said, “Yes, unfortunately all those facts are like taking sleeping pills. Never mind. Go ahead and finish.”

            It was I, not Maragold or Matt, who became angry. I couldn’t believe that any teacher could be this unfair and mean. I flew to Miss Demener’s shoulder, and whispered in her ear, “You should be ashamed of yourself for the way you’ve treated Mara and Matt, as well as the rest of the class. Do you actually think you are a good, concerned and fair teacher? You've shown your students a desert of meanness all year, but isn't there a little oasis of good in you somewhere? You may have a problem with depression, and you should try to get some help, for your sake and for the sake of your students.”

            Miss Demener suddenly jerked her body straight up in her chair, looked around the room, then looked at the intercom speaker that's attached to the wall above the door. She looked as if she thought the voice she heard was coming from a student, or from the intercom speaker. She looked confused, anxious, and a little nervous. I admit that I was not upset for causing these uncomfortable feelings in her. Her behavior toward her students was simply shameful. I had the power to make her think about it, and I'm glad that I used it.

            With a surprised and confused look on her thin face she noticed that Matt hadn't continued with his report yet. She spoke to Matt in an unusually soft, but tired voice. “Matt, just continue where you left off.”

            “Yes ma’am,” Matt said, not sure how to interpret his teacher’s gentle voice and sudden, confused appearance. “Let’s see . . . June. Yes. I believe I stopped as I was telling you about June, which is the sixth month. June was named for Juno, the goddess of women and marriage. Juno was the wife of the Roman god, Jupiter, who was the greatest of all the Roman gods. This is probably why the planet Jupiter, which is the largest of our nine planets, was named for the greatest Roman god, Jupiter

            “Now for the months from July to December. This is where the last four months were all given names that came from Latin numbers until an important Roman emperor named Julius Caesar decided to change the old ten-month Roman calendar by adding a new month. An ‘emperor’ is like a king. Caesar added the month of July, after the month of June, to honor himself. His first name was Julius so he named the new month 'July.' Now the Roman calendar had eleven months in it. Then, years later, Augustus Caesar became the Roman emperor. His Great Uncle was Julius Caesar and, like his Great Uncle, he wanted a new month to honor himself. He named the new month, August. He put that new month in the calendar after the month of July. That changed the Roman year again, and made the Roman calendar have twelve months, just as it does today.

            Miss Demener quickly interrupted Matt by asking, "Matt, if Jupiter was the greatest Roman god, more powerful than all the other Roman gods, then why isn't one of the Roman calendar months named after Jupiter?"

            "I don't know, Miss Demener. In my research, I didn't see it mentioned."

            "Do you think it's an interesting question?" asked Miss Demener.

            Matt knew what she was going to say to him next, but all he could say was, "Yes, Ma'am. I think it is."

            "Then why didn't you research it to find the answer?" said Miss Demener.

            Matt looked disappointed in himself for not thinking of the question, then finding the answer. He sadly said, "I don't know, Miss Demener. I guess I wasn't thinking clearly."

            "It appears that way, doesn't it? Go ahead and finish," replied Miss Demener.

            Matt continued, “Before the time of Julius and Augustus Caesar, the people were called 'pagans' because they believed in many gods that had different powers. They didn't believe in just one, all-powerful God, like most people do today. After the Roman emperors Julius Caesar and Augustus Caesar, Christianity became very popular, and the pagan religion lost most of its believers and was forgotten. I mention these facts because when the old pagan religion, with its many gods died out, and Christianity, with it’s one, all-powerful God became popular with the people in the Roman Empire, no man, not even an emperor, was thought to be great enough to give his name to a month of the year. So the four remaining, unnamed months were given the names of Latin numbers that still remain on our modern calendar. Those Latin numbers are: septem, which is the Latin number seven and became the month of September; octem, which is the Latin number eight and became the month of October; novem, which is the Latin number nine and became the month of November; and decem, which is the Latin number ten and became the month of December. These Latin numbers that were used for the names of months may seem odd to you because today, in our modern calendar, these are not the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth months of the year. They are the ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth months of our year. The reason for this is that Julius Caesar made July the seventh month instead of September, which used to be the seventh month, and then his Great Uncle, Augustus, made August the eighth month instead of October, which used to be the eighth month. That’s why the numerical ‘meanings’ of the months of September, October, November and December are in a different numerical ‘order’ in our modern calendar.

            “I hope I’ve explained this good enough, and that I didn’t put anyone to sleep. Thank you for listening to my report.”

            There was some quiet giggling concerning Matt’s comment about "putting anyone to sleep."

            "Well enough," Miss Demener said to Matt..

            "Excuse me?" said Matt.

            "You should have said you hope you've explained your report well enough, instead of incorrectly saying good enough."

            "Yes, Ma'am. I'll try to remember that," Matt responded.

            Now Matt thought he'd be yelled at for carelessly saying the part about putting anyone to sleep. He hadn't intended to say that. It had just squirted out of his mouth like a slick watermelon seed. Matt was surprised that Miss Demener didn't mention it as he walked to her desk, handed his report to her, then returned to his desk.

            As he sat down he noticed some smiling and admiring looks from other students, especially from Mara. He appreciated all the smiles because they made him feel less nervous. He didn't dare look at Miss Demener. He didn't want to call attention to himself, and he didn't want her to notice how nervous he felt.

            The other students were mostly thinking that they probably just heard the two best oral reports that would be presented in their classroom. They also knew that Miss Demener would pretend that both reports were just barely satisfactory.

            A short time after Matt was seated, those students' beliefs were confirmed when Miss Demener said, “Sounds like another Mr. Bunnlow style report to me, Matt. What do you . . . .

            Miss Demener's voice hesitated then stopped in the middle of her sentence. And guess what, dear reader? She was thinking about the voice she had heard a few minutes ago; my voice. I thought that was a good sign, for her, as well as for her students. She was thinking about "depression." She thought to herself, Is that why I almost always feel like I have angry, negative and hopeless feelings tied around my neck, like anchors?

            All the students were puzzled by Miss Demener's strange pause and behavior. Before, she had looked shocked and looked around the room in a strange way. Then she interrupted herself and didn't finish her sentence. And now she looked like she was staring off into space, day-dreaming, or lost in some very serious thoughts. The students didn't know what to think, or what it meant, or what to do, so they just stared at Miss Demener.

            Maragold and Matt used Miss Demener's pause to give each other encouraging smiles of support. Those smiles, which happened many times during the year, were like metal shields against Miss Demener’s verbal arrows. They knew that they had done the best job that they could do with their oral reports. I knew that they were correct.

            I also knew that they had frustrated and confused Miss Demener with their calm confidence and their pleasant smiles, even when some of those smiles were fake, and even when they were embarrassed by Miss Demener's unfair comments.

            Everyone knew, even Miss Demener, although she would never admit it, that both Maragold and Matt deserved very good grades for their very informative and interesting oral reports. Maybe Miss Demener would recognize that, sometime soon, and step out from behind that thick, black curtain of sarcasm. I hoped that she would see that she was the captain of an educational ship with her students as the crew. To get to her educational destination she needed the help of her crew, but to get the help of her crew she needed to motivate them to do their jobs well and to show them that she was a fair leader and that she respected them. She didn't have to be their friend, but she did need to be their teacher and leader and to try to make learning fun. Her crew needed to know that they could depend on her for guidance, support and fairness. Maybe some day she could steer herself into a harbor where she could get some help and then be able to drop those anchors that she has been carrying around her neck for so many months.

            I let Maragold and Matt know that Miss Demener may be able to unfairly justify giving them an average grade instead of the above average grade that I thought they deserved, but I seriously doubted that she could give them a failing grade because she wouldn't want to draw attention to herself. She wouldn't want to attract attention from other teachers, the principal, or parents who may question her ability to be objective and fair when giving grades. It would be a major embarrassment to have her objectivity and skill questioned, as well as have her behaviors and attitudes suspected of being sub-standard.

            I told Maragold and Matt that I thought I saw a crack in the dark wall of depression that surrounded her. I was now convinced that most of her mean, unfair behaviors were due to common depression that had gone untreated for a long time. So now, perhaps, some healing light could enter that crack and brighten her life. I hoped for the best, although I knew that no miracles were going to happen overnight. It was usually a long, slow process learning how to climb out of the deep, slippery, black pit of depression.

CHAPTER 18:  THE RUMOR

            It was a wonderfully, warm, sunny day in early June. But even though it was such a beautiful day, I was feeling poorly. I had allergies to various forms of pollen which caused irritations in my eyes and nose, as well as a feeling of congested stuffiness in my sinuses. It made me feel as if I had a late season head-cold. I told Maragold and Matt that, because of that stuffy feeling, I was having difficulty reading thoughts clearly.

            Miss Demener's students were about to have their physical education class. Maragold told me that most students just call it "gym" class. At first I thought she was saying "Jim" class, so I asked her who "Jim" was. She told me it wasn't a boy's name and that "gym" was the abbreviation for "gymnasium," which is the old-fashioned name for the very large room where physical education classes were held indoors.

            As Miss Demener's students walked to gym class their smiles shone as brightly and as warmly as the sun. The whole class was in a good mood due to this wonderful, sunny day, knowing they were going outdoors for their gym class, anticipating the end of the school year, and most importantly, because summer vacation was only a couple of weeks away.

            The boys' gym class began using the soccer field to learn the fundamental skills and rules of that sport , while the girls' gym class was using the tennis courts to learn the fundamental skills and rules for playing tennis.

            On the soccer field the boys were laughing and cheering each other. They were in a happy, silly, stress-free mood, unlike their classroom mood, and enjoying every second of it. Their chatter, and laughter reminded me of cheerful birds that are welcoming the bright, warm, spring sunshine.

            Eric was running close to Matt and trying to talk to him. It was difficult for him to talk while running¾especially since he wasn't in as good shape as Matt was. So, naturally, Eric was huffing and puffing. As he was gasping for breath he tried to speak to Matt, but his words were coming out in gushes and gasps of air that made it difficult for Matt to understand him.

            Matt was enjoying the warmth of the bright sun, so he really wasn’t paying close attention to Eric, nor did he even want to carry on a conversation. He wanted to run, play, have fun, and enjoy the sunshine. He was so focused on his running, cheering and laughing that Eric's vague words faded quickly from his mind.

            When the ball was kicked to Matt he stopped it with his foot, then started dribbling it toward the netted goal at the opposite end of the field. It looked like he had practiced this skill before as he skillfully kicked the ball in a zig-zag path to avoid members of the other team. He kicked the ball to a teammate who was near the edge of the soccer field, but in a few seconds the ball was kicked right back to him. By then he was close to the net. He faked a kick to another teammate, then attempted to surprise the goalie by kicking the ball toward the far corner post. The goalie dove to try to block the ball, but was too late as the ball hit the ground just inside the corner post, then bounced into the net for a goal. Matt’s team erupted into more cheering and most of them were waving their hands over their heads while doing a funny-looking victory dance that included shaking their butts vigorously. If they could have seen themselves, and how ridiculous they looked, they'd probably have barfed all over their gym shoes, or on the emerald grass to create the image of a chunky and gross-looking green salad. But it sure was nice to see them having so much fun; quite a big difference from their classroom behavior.

            Mr. Carter, the gym teacher, and his assistant, Mr. Jackson, blew their whistles and told the boys to go to the locker room to get dressed. None of the boys could believe that their gym class had gone by so quickly. They were wishing that their teacher's lessons would go by just as quickly.

            When Matt turned around to look for Eric, he saw him standing on the sidelines, bent over, hands on knees, and gasping for air from having tried to talk to Matt as Matt kicked the ball almost the entire length of the soccer field. Sweat was dripping off his forehead as if a leaky faucet were attached to it. Matt walked up to Eric and patted him on the back. Then Matt said, "Hey, buddy, let's go to the locker room."

            Eric appreciated Matt’s thoughtfulness and said, “OK, thanks,” in between two deep breaths. When Eric stood up they both walked slowly so that Eric could "catch his breath" and get his breathing back to normal.

            As the whole class either walked quickly, or jogged toward the school, they could hear Mr. Carter yelling, “Nice job today, guys! Keep up the good work!”

            In the locker room, some of the boys were saying that they were really glad that it was June. They said they couldn't wait to get far away from Miss Demener. They said they needed the long summer vacation to help them forget her.

            Matt reluctantly said, "She's not very nice, and I'll be glad to get away from her, too, but she did teach us a lot, although she used fear instead of fun to motivate us. Too bad most of you guys didn't have Mr. Bunnlow last year. Now there's a great teacher . . . and really nice, too. He didn't have to be mean to anyone to get them to do their work, or to listen to his lessons. He was funny, interesting and made learning a lot of fun, and that’s totally different than Misdemeanor."

            A few laughs could be heard when Matt said "Misdemeanor." After a whole year of saying it, that name still had a humorous effect.

            Eric mentioned that he was very tired of all the stern lectures that she called "lessons." He said he’d just die if the rumor was true. Then he smiled and said, “Does anybody know what the difference is between a book and Misdemeanor?”

            “Yeah, they’re both very boring!” shouted a voice from the back of the locker room. More laughter echoed off the smooth, tile walls.

            Eric responded, “I asked for the 'difference,' not the 'similarity,' you clown. The answer I had in mind was that you can easily "shut-up" a book, but it’s impossible to shut her up.”

            Sounds of agreement and quiet laughter could be heard.

            Then Matt said, in poem-like rhythm, "Eric, don't worry that you're so small, and that your jokes are nothing new. Remember that the might oak tree was once a nut like you."

            Louder laughter rang through the locker room as the boys hurried to get dressed.

            When the laughter died down, Matt looked curiously at Eric. Eric was standing in front of the locker room mirror in just his underwear and socks. He was smiling at himself while combing and admiring his wavy hair. Matt didn't comment about Eric's self-admiration because he was too focused on his own question. Matt asked, “What rumor were you talking about a little while ago?”

            Matt was already dressed, and Eric was now trying to put his pants on fast, before Mr. Carter yelled into the locker room that they only had a couple of minutes to finish dressing, and that Miss Demener was in the hallway waiting for them. Eric waited to answer Matt's question so he could tuck in his shirt, which had somehow gotten wet. He tucked the damp shirt into his pants, put on his shoes, then looked at Matt.

            Eric’s face became serious when he turned to face Matt. He said, "I was trying to tell you on the soccer field about the rumor that I heard Mr. Carter and Mr. Jackson talking about. I was waiting for a good time to ask you about it."

            “I haven't heard any rumor. What are you talking about?" said Matt.

            “I heard them saying that some teachers will be teaching different grades next year and that one of those teachers is Misdemeanor, who supposedly said she is tired of teaching immature, academic babies. I guess that she wants to move to sixth grade so she can teach more mature students. Man! Can you just imagine what it would be like having her for another whole year in sixth grade? No thank you!” Eric shouted in a loud, disgusted voice that echoed off the locker room walls.

            Suddenly the noisy locker room became as quiet as a cemetery at midnight because the other boys hadn't heard the rumor either. The locker room which, next to the cafeteria is one of the noisiest rooms in the whole school, was now a tomb of silence. Many of the boys were thinking that they would rather be buried alive than have Miss Demener for another year.

            As the boys exited the locker room, not one of them spoke. They were stunned. It was as if the news was a monster that had sucked all the energy out of them. It left them feeling so weak that they couldn't, as many normally did, slam their locker doors and talk loudly. They all acted as if they would have been much happier if they had been told that they would have to attend school on Saturdays.

            At lunchtime Matt told Maragold and Eric told Cheryl, and then the rumor spread through the entire cafeteria. It was also spreading like lice throughout the elementary school and, much like really having lice, students were scratching their heads in irritation and fear.

            The cafeteria monitor became suspicious, then puzzled, about the unusual lack of noise. But rather than ask some students why they were so quiet, she decided to count her blessings and enjoy it.

            Maragold tried to cheer everyone up at her table. She flashed a big smile and said, “Hey! You know that rumors are usually made up out of mistaken information. I doubt that we need to worry about Misdemeanor moving to sixth grade, so forget about it. OK, listen. I heard this tennis joke in gym class. Why is tennis such a noisy game?”

            When no one said anything, Mara said, “Because the players are always raising a racket.”

            The sounds of laughter were delightful.

            Then Cheryl said, “Oh, yeah! I heard a joke also. Why should you never marry a tennis player?”

            Cheryl saw the puzzled looks on her friend’s faces, so she said, “Because love means nothing to them.”

            Cheryl saw the confused looks on Matt’s and Eric’s faces and realized that they hadn’t had tennis lessons yet and didn’t know that when keeping score in tennis the word ‘love’ is used when one player has not scored any points. So when a player has ‘no score,’ he has ‘nothing,’ and, for some strange reason, the word ‘love’ is used instead of the word ‘nothing.’ But when Cheryl explained this to Matt and Eric, they gave her strange looks before they laughed at the joke.

            Maragold added another tennis joke. She said, “Why would fish never make good tennis players?” Then without waiting, she answered her own question. She said,“Because they’re always trying to get away from the net.”

            Now, good-spirited laughter could be heard as all the friends grinned, laughed, then groaned at that joke.

            Then Cheryl jumped in with a final tennis joke. “What does one tennis ball say to another tennis ball when he has to leave the game?” Cheryl became impatient and blurted out the answer, “The other ball says, ‘See you round, fuzzy face.’”

            Well, the two girls’ jokes helped change the worried faces to laughter. Their jokes also relieved the anxiety that the rumor had created in all of Miss Demener’s students.

            The loud laughter from Maragold's table also relieved the growing suspicions and worrying of the cafeteria monitor who now thought that the cafeteria noise was getting back to normal.

            Cheryl suddenly stopped laughing. As her friends looked at her, she sadly stared off into space. Her face was pale and wrinkled with worry, as if she was upset by the very real possibility that the rumor was true.

            In a private moment, Maragold asked me if I knew if the rumor was true. I told her that Miss Demener quite often had those thoughts about her fifth graders and about fifth grade, in general, but that I didn’t know if the rumor was actually true. I told Maragold that "thinking" it and "desiring" it did not make it "true." As an example, I told her that I could "think or imagine" a unicorn, I could even wish that unicorns were real, but none of that wishful thinking and imagination will make unicorns real. What would make the rumor true, I told her, would be a firm decision by Mr. Maldon. I also didn't know what he was thinking, since I rarely saw him. I reminded her that I have to be able to see the person as their thoughts are being made in order to know what they were thinking. A short time after their thought was made it went into their memories, and I could not read a person's memories unless they started thinking about those memories.

            After the first week of June had gone by, hardly anyone acted as if they had even heard the rumor. They were in serious "denial." I knew that almost everyone had their fear of the rumor tucked away inside a locked mental box somewhere in a distant corner of their mind. The rumor was like a ghost in the closet of a haunted house, just waiting to burst out suddenly and scare someone to death. They all desperately wanted to believe it was just a silly joke. At least that’s how they acted around their friends. But in private, where good acting doesn’t matter, that ghost-of-a-rumor kept opening their mental door and came bursting out to frighten them.

            But the sadness caused by the rumor didn’t stop Maragold and Matt, from planning a final and "farewell" trick to play on Miss Demener.

            Cheryl and Eric would be included in every detail of this final trick as long as the trick didn't involve knowledge of me. But if I was involved again, as I was in the social studies trick, then Cheryl and Eric couldn't be made fully aware of the details of the trick since they could not be informed of my existence. Maragold, Matt and I discussed this. We wanted to include them in the details of how and why this trick would work, but I told them that we just couldn't continue to let more and more friends know about me. Maragold and Matt reluctantly agreed. They felt sad having to do that again to their two very good friends, but it was necessary for my safety. It just couldn't be helped, and I insisted that it be that way.

            The four friends had many ideas for a final trick, such as putting a realistic fisherman’s rubber worm on Miss Demener's desk, or placing a rubber mouse under her desk, or maybe attaching a realistic spider to her red marking pen¾the pen that makes our homework and test papers look like they’d been spattered with blood at a murder crime scene. Another suggestion was that we could place a chunk of very realistic rubber vomit on her desk, on her chair, or in her top desk drawer. The friends also thought about using a "Whoopie Cushion"¾Eric's idea¾but Eric was out-voted. The other three friends thought the Whoopie Cushion was much to obvious to be successful, and kind of gross, too. Eric protested, saying, "Farts are always funny. They are universally humorous. For example,” Eric said, "people who fart in church must sit in their own pew. Or how about this one? What’s invisible and smells like carrots? It’s bunny farts, of course." There was a lot of laughter, but Eric was still out-voted.

            But those were just quick and easy pranks. They wanted something better, something more entertaining and more complex. When I heard that, I reminded Maragold and Matt that we had nearly gone too far with our social studies trick, and that we had agreed that our on Miss Demener were not to be mean and upsetting, but to be funny and create an entertaining distraction from the boredom of being in her classroom. I told them that there was a fine line between meanness and fun, and that they needed to be careful about crossing it.

            The temptation to play a final trick on Miss Demener was very great for all of them, but they came to a compromise. If any of us thought that this final trick was getting mean or upsetting, and making Miss Demener too angry, then we could cancel the trick. I made sure that Maragold and Matt understood that I wouldn't be part of any trick that intended to be deliberately mean, or cause great anger in their teacher, no matter how mean she was to them, or how much she was disliked by them and the other students.

            Since Miss Demener was spending a lot of extra time with end-of-the-year math review, the four friends were wondering if there was some way to play a math-related trick on her. Maragold and Matt appeared to be waiting for me to give them a secret suggestion, and I wasn't comfortable with that. When I didn't respond they looked at each other and gave up waiting for me. The four friends started talking happily about school being almost over, and that they needed and wanted a fun distraction. They all wanted something entertaining to help them make it through their last two weeks of school. The subject of math was mentioned again because Miss Demener had demonstrated that she was very good at math.

            Maragold said, "If we knew which math review questions she was going to use for a particular day, then maybe the four of us could memorize the answers, or write them like flash cards. Then when Miss Demener turned toward the chalkboard to write the math problem, the four of us could quickly show the answer flash card to the whole class. That way, no matter whom she picks, the answer will already be known by everyone. Do you think that idea will work, or is it too risky?" she asked, Matt, Cheryl, and Eric?

            Matt and Cheryl spoke at the same time, saying, "Too risky."

            "I have a much safer, but still entertaining math class idea that you could use for your trick," I hesitantly whispered to Maragold, while wondering if I was being wise. Then I added, "Unfortunately, if we use it, Cheryl and Eric will have to be kept in the dark, again, as far as my part in the trick is concerned." I hoped that I wasn't getting myself involved in any accidental meanness, but I figured that if the trick was my idea, and Maragold and Matt had to follow my plan, then I'd have better control of the details. That way I could more easily avoid any deliberate meanness that I had warned Maragold and Matt about earlier. At least, that's what I was hoping.

            I told Maragold and Matt that I was agreeing to participate with this final trick because it was simple, it was easier than Maragold's idea about flash cards, and the risk of getting caught was very low. I told them that with my idea there was very little chance of getting caught because I'd be the one providing the math problem answers, silently and invisibly. I've always been gifted in math, and I could very easily and rapidly figure out very difficult math problems in my head.

            Maragold and Matt immediately loved the idea, except for not being able to provide the details to Cheryl and Eric. Maragold added that she also liked the idea because it would make Misdemeanor doubt her own opinion that her class was full of academic babies.

            Yes, I know, dear reader, that you're very curious about the trick, so I won’t delay any longer. This is how I explained the trick to Maragold and Matt. During tomorrow’s math lesson I would, with the help of my magic wand and my superior math skills, invisibly flash the answer to any of Miss Demener’s math problems into the mind of anyone that she calls to give the answer. Since I can read Miss Demener’s thoughts, I will know what math problem she is going to write on the chalkboard. Naturally, I will also know who she's going to call to ask for the answer to that math problem. So, before she has a chance to call on that student for the answer, I will magically flash that answer into the mind of that student. I will also magically suggest that that student give the answer to the math problem, out loud, as soon as Miss Demener turns around to face the class, and before she says that student's name. The "magical suggestion" that I use will be like an irresistible urge for that student, and they will blurt out the correct answer without error. The really nice thing about this way of doing the trick, I said, is that only Maragold and Matt will know what is really happening. The whole class should be completely entertained by it. Plus, if it works correctly, Miss Demener's shocked and confused expressions will be quite funny.

            Unfortunately for our dear friends, Cheryl and Eric, they will probably go a little crazy trying to figure out what is happening and how it is happening, but hopefully, after awhile they’ll be too busy and happy laughing to be disappointed about not being let in on the secret of the trick. At least that’s what we hoped. I knew, however, that they would ask plenty of questions later on.

            Twenty-four hours can seem like a long time when you're super-excited about an upcoming event. That's how Maragold and Matt felt as they waited for time to pass and the next school day to arrive.

            Math class is after lunch, so the next day at the cafeteria Maragold and Matt had to control their excitement as they told Cheryl and Eric that something strange, exciting, and funny would be happening in math class. They told Cheryl and Eric not to ask questions about it, but just sit back, enjoy it, and get ready for a lot of entertainment and laughs.

            Then in order to stop curious questions, Maragold started a joke session by asking, “What time is the best time to go to the dentist?” But without much of a pause, she gave the answer. "Two-thirty," she said. When she saw the puzzled looks of her friends, she explained, "You know, the time 'two-thirty' sounds like the two words 'tooth-hurty,' except that 'hurty' is not really a word." Then her friends got the joke and their giggles erupted into the air.

            Then Matt said, “Does anyone know why janitors get married so quickly?” Like Maragold, Matt quickly answered his own joke by saying, “Because they are experts at sweeping ladies off their feet. ” Laughter flowed easily and became contagious.

            Cheryl jumped into the joke session saying, “Which do you think is faster, heat or cold?” She smiled, paused briefly and said, “Heat must be faster because anyone can catch a cold.”

            The laughter got louder now and that’s just what Maragold and Matt wanted in order to distract Cheryl and Eric from asking questions about the secretive math class trick.

            Eric looked like he would bust a gut before he got his chance to tell a joke, so he blurted it out quickly, “What question can never be truthfully answered with the word ‘yes?’” Eric liked to enjoy his cleverness so he didn't give his answer quickly, as his friends did. He just looked and waited, then, when he felt he had teased enough, he said, "And this joke's no brain fart, Cheryl." Then he gave his best prideful look at his friends and said through wide, smiling lips, “The question is: ‘Are you asleep?’” Eric burst into loud, silly laughter. He was laughing so loudly that it caught the attention of some of the other students and aroused their curiosity.

            Somehow, during all the laughter and distractions, the cafeteria monitor walked up to the table unnoticed. The students worried that they would be yelled at, but the lady had been listening to the jokes, enjoyed them, and offered one of her own.

            She said, “Think hard now, OK? What word in the English language is always pronounced wrong?”

            Everyone was quite puzzled by that question and, I admit, I was, too, but I read the cafeteria lady’s thoughts and knew the answer.

            The other students that heard the question were so puzzled by it that all their laughter stopped and they also tried in vain to figure out the answer.

            Maragold spoke up and said, "My dad is always saying that the words 'nuclear' and 'cavalry' are the two most often mispronounced words."

            The monitor smiled at Maragold, leaned her hand on the end of the table, showed a huge smile and then whispered, “The word is wrong.”

            No one understood, at first, but then she said, “Don't you get it? The word that is always pronounced wrong is the word wrong because that's the correct way to pronounce the word wrong, right?”

            She walked away smiling as all the students at Maragold's table laughed at her really good joke.

            Cheryl looked wide-eyed at Eric and said, “Now there's a joke that's not a brain fart, right?”

            Eric said, “Nope. No brain fart, indeed. I admit, it was rather clever.” What he didn’t say, or show, was that he was a little jealous. But he did enjoy the joke a lot and was glad the cafeteria monitor told it to them.

            The good time and laughter was suddenly cut short when the students noticed Miss Demener walking into the cafeteria to get them. All the students, except the Maragold gang, were thinking that now they would go to their classroom, have their bathroom break, then start their dreaded math class.

CHAPTER 19:  MATH CLASS

            The students returned to their classroom and Miss Demener gave them a bathroom break. After the bathroom break, Miss Demener told everyone not to take out their math textbooks because today’s lesson would be a review of the more difficult types of math problems that they had learned this year.

            I was prepared to solve her review math problems. I sat on Maragold’s right shoulder with my magic wand and waited for Miss Demener to begin. My mind wandered to silly thoughts like: What did the "zero" say to the number "eight?" Zero said, "Wow! Nice belt!"—because “eight” looks like a “zero” with a really tight belt—and, What would you get if you crossed a calculator with a friend? You'd get someone that you could really "count on."

            Miss Demener looked at some practice problems in her teacher’s manual, then wrote one of them on the chalkboard. As she was writing the problem, she decided to ask Brad to come to the chalkboard to figure out the answer. The problem she wrote on the chalkboard was:

                                                24.31 minus 9.678 = ?

            Miss Demener turned around to face the class. She had just barely focused her eyes on Brad, and hadn't even said his name yet, when she heard him speak.

            Brad acted totally surprised as he blurted out, "Fourteen and six-hundred thirty-two thousandths is the answer, Miss Demener.”

            The smile vanished from Miss Demener’s face like a smile melting off a hot snowman. Her smile was replaced with a combination of shock and confusion. She was shocked by Brad’s unusually fast and accurate answer. She appeared stunned, and couldn't talk for a second or two. Her forehead was so wrinkled that it looked like the lines on a roadmap. Then she got a strange, puzzling look in her eyes, and in a curious voice she said, “Brad, I haven’t even called on you to come to the board to figure out the answer. How did you even know that I was just about ready to call you? You don’t have your math book open to the review problems page, do you, Brad?”

            Brad looked and felt confused. He didn’t know what to say, so he hesitantly said, “No ma’am. . . . My math book is in my desk. . . . I don’t know what to say, Miss Demener, except that I just had this strange feeling that you were going to call on me to figure out the answer to that math problem, and then, I don't know how, but suddenly the answer to the problem just pooped into my head. . . .Oh, Geez! Excuse me. I meant to say the answer ‘popped’ into my head."

            The room filled with uncontrolled laughter caused by Brad's mistake. Miss Demener glared at Brad, then at the whole class.

            "OK! OK!" Miss Demener yelled. Then she shouted, "Be quiet, and let Brad finish! Continue, Brad."

            "Well," Brad said with a stammer, "then after the answer popped into my head, I had a strong urge to say it as quickly as I could. I couldn't stop myself.”

            Miss Demener overcame her shock and was getting impatient with Brad’s unbelievably silly response. She suspected that Brad was trying to be funny. But then she thought, Brad had never acted like that before.

            Miss Demener was also bothered by the fact that she had expected Brad to struggle before coming up with the answer to the difficult subtracting two decimal numbers math problem. Plus, Brad did sound like he was telling the truth, even though it was a very strange explanation. She could also see that he didn't have his math book open. She didn’t know what was happening, but she felt confused and didn't like that feeling.

            She looked down at her teacher’s manual, then up at the class. She surprised the students with a shrug of her shoulders and a phony smile that was meant to show that she wasn’t bothered by this strange event. She came to the conclusion that it must have been a weird coincidence.

            Miss Demener looked down at her teacher’s manual, again, then turned some pages. She found another difficult review problem. Mentally she changed it a little to make it even more difficult than the one written in her math manual. Then she turned to face the chalkboard and wrote this problem:

                                    4/9 of 45 + 3/8 of 56 X 2/7 of 63 = ?

            As she turned around to call on Susan to come to the chalkboard and figure out the answer to this new problem, she heard the answer being said in another confident voice, just like with Brad.

            “The answer to that problem, Miss Demener, is seven hundred thirty-eight,” said Susan with a very fast and excited voice.

            This time Miss Demener stopped with her mouth hanging open, as she was about to call on Susan. She was so surprised that the same thing had happened that she just stood in front of her students with her mouth still open and her lips forming what looked like a giant, lip-stretching “O.” It looked quite funny to the students and the sounds of giggling floated in the air.

            Miss Demener snapped out of her shocked expression and closed her mouth. She could hardly believe that Susan had also blurted out the correct answer before she even had a chance to call her name. She knew that, somehow, her students were playing a trick on her. But she didn't have any clue how they were doing it. It seemed impossible. This fact frustrated and embarrassed her, and that caused her face to turn red. Little drops of sweat made her forehead shine.

            The students couldn't stop themselves from giggling, and more laughter floated across the classroom like buoys floating across a lake.

            Miss Demener's growing suspicion showed on her tightly-closed lips and scornful, squinting eyes. She stared at Susan. She could see that Susan didn't have her math book open, nor were there any notes, folders, or a calculator in sight.

            Susan looked at Miss Demener, and in a timid voice said, “It was just like what happened to Brad, Miss Demener. Somehow I knew you were going to call me to come to the board, and then, all of a sudden, the answer just appeared in my head. Then I had a really strong urge to say the answer as quickly as I could. I wasn't trying to fool around. Honest, Miss Demener”

            Miss Demener believed Susan, but she was getting more confused and feeling very uncomfortable because of it. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, then gave her class an unusual smile. As she calmed herself, she searched her students' faces, looking for clues to these strange events. Then she closed her math manual. She decided that she was going to write her own math problem on the chalkboard; a more difficult problem that no one could know about because it wouldn't be copied from her math book. The new problem, she thought, had be so difficult that it would be a struggle for a fifth grader to do it mentally. Therefore, a student would need to use pencil and paper, or a calculator to get the answer. Miss Demener was certain that she'd be able to catch anyone who was trying to figure out the answer using either of those two methods.

            Miss Demener turned her back to the class and faced the chalkboard as if she was going to write another math problem. Then she unexpectedly turned quickly to face the class and glanced around the room. To her great disappointment, she could see no evidence of anyone getting ready to use pencil and paper, or a calculator, nor did anyone look suspicious by looking inside their desk, or at their lap, where paper and pencil, or a calculator could be hidden.

            Suddenly another devious idea came to her. She'd ask Jeremy, the worst math student in her class, to come to the chalkboard and figure out the answer to her newest and most difficult math problem. Now she felt supremely confident that she could beat this class of gigglers, pranksters and academic babies who were trying to make her look foolish. She’d show them, all of them, who was boss in this classroom.

            If Miss Demener’s confusion and frustration led to anger I wanted to end the trick. I felt guilty, again, about using someone's anger for fun and entertainment. But she wasn't angry yet, so I chose to watch her carefully, then decide what to do. I felt unsure of myself, and it was a strange feeling.

            She turned to face the chalkboard and, using her body to block the view of the math problem she was writing, she wrote her difficult math problem. The problem she wrote was:

                                                46.02  X  23.5  =  ?

            Miss Demener hesitated for just a moment, just long enough to smile with deep satisfaction, knowing that it was now her turn to laugh. She was thinking that, when Jeremy couldn’t figure out the answer, she’d quickly go around the room, loudly calling names and asking for the answer. But she wouldn’t give much time for anyone to figure it out, not even if someone had a concealed calculator. She felt good now, like a black blanket had just been lifted from her thoughts. "Don’t get mad, get even. This will put them all in their place," she thought, then smiled.

            But her anticipated, sweet satisfaction didn't last long. As she quickly turned to order Jeremy to come to the chalkboard, her unbelieving ears were invaded by the sound of Jeremy’s voice saying, “One thousand eighty-one and forty-seven hundredths, Miss Demener.”

            Jeremy was as extremely surprised by his own words as everyone else was. He knew that he wasn't very good in math, so how, he wondered, did he know the answer to such a hard problem? He had no idea, no clue as to what was happening, but his pleasant, excited smile showed that he liked the feeling very much.

            Miss Demener didn't know what to think. She looked dazed as she focused on Jeremy. His smile seemed to have multiplied in size one thousand eighty-one and forty-seven hundredths times. She saw the enormous look of satisfaction on Jeremy's face. His whole head appeared to be one large, egg-shaped smile as his happily glowing eyes locked on Miss Demener's face. He excitedly shouted, “Wow! Miss Demener, that answer just came to me suddenly, you know, and I just had a real strong feeling in my guts that you was going to call me. Man! That felt amazing! Miss Demener, you know, I felt like a math wiz. Hey! Miss Demener, ma'am, you know what? You better start wearing sun glasses in math class because we're getting pretty bright, ain't we? Man! Gee, wiz, that was fun!”

            Jeremy paused his gushing outburst of excitement and looked around the classroom. He was still smiling triumphantly as he raised his outstretched arms to shoulder level, made fists, then stuck up both thumbs, like a hitch-hiker would do, in a supreme "thumbs-up" gesture of ultimate triumphant.

            Suddenly a booming noise shocked everyone. Miss Demener had just burst into hysterical and thunderous laughter. It wasn't a pleasant laughter, more like a cackle, but it didn't sound like it was intended to be mean either. She laughed for a couple of minutes as if she couldn't stop herself. When she did stop, there were tears running down both of her cheeks.

            I thought that I hadn't stopped the trick soon enough. But then I noticed that her tears didn't come from sadness or anger, they came as the result of a feeling of relief. Unfortunately, she was acting so emotionally and had so many differing and conflicting thoughts zipping through her mind that I couldn't accurately tell what she was thinking. She was also mumbling something, but her voice was so quiet and the words so unclear that I had no idea what they meant.

            Then Miss Demener burst into laughter, again, and started shaking her head as she looked at the floor. More tears were streaming down her face. Again, I felt the crush of guilt. At the same time I thought I saw the light of "hope" shining in her eyes. I still couldn't tell what she was thinking, though, because, again, she was experiencing intense, confusing, mixed-up emotions that made her thoughts difficult for me to understand.

            All the students were silent. They just sat and stared at their crying, laughing teacher. Maragold, Matt, Cheryl and Eric couldn't take their eyes off her either. They were thinking that good intentions and funny tricks don't always work the way they are intended to work. I'd just learned that lesson, too. I was proud of them for feeling guilty about their teacher's tears and upset emotions. It meant that they finally realized that they weren't the only ones who had had a very rough year. They realized that their teacher also had a rough year and that she had some  personal problems of her own. They felt shame and so did I. The practical jokes were "my" ideas. They turned out to be not very funny at all. How could I have thought that they would be so humorous. What would Elder O'Keefe think of me now? I wasn’t feeling good about myself right now.

            I noticed movement by the classroom door. Mr. Maldon was standing there with papers in his hands. His face was full of shock and concern. Apparently he had come to the classroom to deliver some important papers to Miss Demener. He saw her hysterically laughing, crying, mumbling, and shaking her head as she stared at the floor. He didn't enter the room, just stood in the doorway. He was thinking that he didn't want to embarrass her any more than she already was.

            I blinked and suddenly, like smoke in a breeze, he was gone. No one but me had noticed him standing there.

            Jeremy was still giddy, and smiling broadly. He was so proud of himself that he didn't even notice Miss Demener’s unusual emotions. He had never been this excited about math class in his whole life.

            Then everyone's attention focused on Miss Demener. She had calmed herself and had stopped crying. She had a strange smile on her face as she said, “I think I'm going to teach sixth grade next year."

            The students were speechless, shocked, stunned. The rumor was true.

            The classroom was as silent as the inside of a long forgotten tomb, except for the tap-tap tap of Miss Demener's shoes as she walked to her desk. She closed the classroom door as she walked by it, never having any idea that, a couple of minutes ago, Mr. Maldon had been standing there watching her.

CHAPTER 20:  SHOCKING NEWS

            The last week of school went by at a turtle's pace for all of Miss Demener’s students. There was a week-long, uneasy feeling between all the students and Miss Demener, especially since it was common knowledge that some parents had contacted Mr. Maldon to talk about Miss Demener's unusual behaviors.

            I was feeling angry at myself for my part in the tricks that we had played on Miss Demener during the year. I should have recognized that she wasn't a naturally mean person, but that her mean, easily angered, joyless behavior was the result of other personal problems in her life. My own lack of insight made me feel disappointed in myself. It would have been much more honorable and kind of me to have tried to help. I realized that I was not nearly as smart as I thought I was. I also realized that human relations and emotions were going to be a lot more difficult to learn than math and science. I definitely had a lot more to learn than I once thought I did. During the year I had talked to Maragold and Matt about being smart, logical, mature, and kind to other people, and now I can't help feeling sad and guilty for not taking my own advice.

            We all do things that we regret, dear reader, but we may not have done as many of those things if we weren't blinded by the fun we thought we'd have instead of having insight into the possible sad consequences of those actions. Maragold and Matt respected me and valued my opinions. I was supposed to be their wise advisor and friend, but look how poorly I handled the situation. I couldn’t help doubting my own maturity, my own sense of responsibility, my own kindness and respect for people, and my own ability to make wise decisions.

            So I mentally contacted Elder O'Keefe using my "thought projection" skill. It acts like radio waves that can travel great distances. I explained things to him as honestly as I could and accepted the blame for the sad events that had led up to Miss Demener's crying and emotional collapse. He let me know that he was disappointed that I had not handled the events with Miss Demener more wisely. But he also said that I had done mostly good deeds, and I should be proud of them. Finally he told me that the leader of a small group, or of a whole nation doesn't have to be perfect. He said that leaders had to do what was best for their followers, or what was best in a particular situation, even though it may not be what was best for themselves. But most of all, he added, a leader had to be wise enough to learn from the mistakes that he makes, or be doomed to making those same mistakes until he can learn from them. He said that my nearly two years in America with Maragold had been a valuable experience for me, even if certain parts of it had not gone well.

            Then Elder O’Keefe surprised me by saying, "Bert, I'm terribly sorry to have to tell you this, but I have to ask you to return to Ireland and your people."

            "But why?" I said loudly, with panic in my voice, "I don't want to leave Maragold. I told her I would stay with her, be her friend, advise her and help keep her safe. And I have a lot more to learn than I thought I did."

            Patiently, Elder O’Keefe answered, "I know, Bert, but promises, although made in good faith, can't always be kept because everyone is constantly learning and changing, and the situations and circumstances in their lives also change them. Some promises can't be kept because people’s attitudes, opinions and beliefs change them. They become different persons than they were when they made their promises. For example, just look at the human divorce rate, and you’ll see clear evidence of how frequently promises get broken. Mr. and Mrs. Durkey grew apart because they changed, their situations changed, their thinking changed, and because of that they became different people than they were when they made their marriage promises. Because of that, they felt that they had to break their promises to each other. Sometimes, in order to grow, people have to grow apart, or away, from something that they once loved. You, dear boy, may have to grow sooner than I thought.

            "I'm very old, Bert. My health is starting to fail. I don't want to worry our people so I haven't said anything, yet. Remember when I told you that you were the Chosen One?"

            "Yes, but I didn't understand what you meant," said Bert.

            "Two years ago the Council of Kings made a very important decision, mostly based on my advice. I advised them to pick you to lead our nation of leprechauns. I saw in you the ability to be a great leader even though you are very young. There was some bickering and some jealousy, of course, but logic ruled the council and they unanimously voted for you to be the eventual king of our leprechaun nation. In about a year from now, maybe sooner, you will need to be by my side so you can learn much more from me and from the Council of Kings. This learning process may take a couple of years, but it will prepare you to accept your future leadership role and be able to wisely rule our nation for many years."

            "Why choose me? I'm much too young for that job. Plus, I wasn't a very good leader for Maragold. And how can a boy lead a nation?" I asked.

            "The Council of Kings and I know that you are smart and mature, far beyond your age. We see great leadership and diplomatic skills developing in you. You demonstrate great kindness and caring. I have never seen or felt, in such a young, male leprechaun, the special magic powers that are developing within you. Also, your modesty and humility concerning your skills, your genuine concern for the welfare of others, and your remarkable honesty make you the ideal choice to be my replacement. For those reasons, and others, you have become our ‘Chosen One.’ I know that you will learn the job very quickly."

            Tears are usually the result of happiness or pain. Perhaps my tears should be from happiness; happiness concerning the news that I was to become the youngest leprechaun king, and that I would enjoy great power, wealth and influence. But, no, . . . the tears streaming down both my cheeks were the result of great pain, a terrible, shocking, emotional pain that was nearly unbearable. The thought of leaving Maragold was a sharp, agonizing pain that felt like it punctured my heart and brain. The tears running down my cheeks felt like hot rivers of lava flowing down the sides of a volcano.

            With tear-blurred vision I gazed at Elder O'Keefe and asked, "How much time do I have left to be with Maragold?" I asked this with a voice that sounded, even to me, as unnatural as the mechanical voice of a robot.

            "Approximately a year, but you may have to leave sooner than that," Elder O'Keefe said sympathetically.

            "So I may be able to be with Maragold until she finishes sixth grade? I guess I should be thankful that I don't have to leave this summer. It will break both of our hearts."

            I could hear radio static in the Elder King's response. The sound waves from his voice must be passing through a storm that's over the Atlantic Ocean, but the static was minor. I heard him say, "Yes. I know, and once again I am very sorry to have to give you that bad news. But it's good news for our nation. We have much to talk about when you come home this summer."

            "Yes," I mumbled, " . . . much to talk about."

            Then I said, "Elder O'Keefe. I mean no disrespect, but why couldn't you have waited to tell me this news when I returned to Ireland for the summer?"

            "I wish I could have done it that way, but the council and I decided that in order to prepare you, we had to tell you as soon as possible. This way you may have a year to adjust, and to help Maragold and Matt adjust, to your leaving them."

            "I don't want to tell them yet. I need to think about when and how I will inform them."

            "That's your decision to make, Bert. The council and I wanted you to have as much time as possible to prepare yourself and make your final arrangements. That's also why we wanted you to know about our decision now instead of waiting any longer to tell you. I must go now, Bert. I'm looking forward to long chats with you this summer."

            "Yes," I mumbled, "Good-bye."

            I concentrated and refocused my distracted mind back to Maragold, her friends, her teacher, and tried to ignore Elder O'Keefe’s shocking news.

            Maragold and Matt noticed my sadness and tried to cheer me up. Their good-hearted actions were ironic because all year I helped cheer them up and now they were trying to cheer me up. We have become such close friends. I am glad of that because true friends should care for and help each other during sad times. I didn't tell them about Elder O’Keefe’s request . . . not yet. Not for awhile.

            One afternoon, while Maragold and Matt were in the library, I let them know that something was bothering me. I told them that I thought I was very wrong to help them play the math trick on Miss Demener, and that I felt guilty and sad about it. I told them that, even though many students and some adults would say that she deserved it, it's not wise or respectful to treat adults the way we treated Miss Demener. I told them that, perhaps they should have talked to their parents about the problem, or to Mr. Bunnlow, or to Mr. Maldon. I told them that they could have gotten better advice from any of them than they had gotten from me.

            Then I told them about seeing Mr. Maldon standing in the doorway as Miss Demener was crying, mumbling, laughing strangely, and then feeling hurt and confused. He left quickly, I told them, and I was the only one who noticed him.

            We decided to think about our actions towards Miss Demener, our problems with Miss Demener, and what to do about both.

            Those last few weeks of school in June passed very slowly, and now the lst few days were passing like a turtle that’s walking on slippery ice. As those final days of school passed, each student was dreading the very last day. That was highly unusual. The exact opposite of “dread” is how they would normally feel. Only a few weeks ago they couldn’t wait until the end of the school year. But when the final day of school did come, they knew that, not only would they see their report cards grades, they would also see the name of their sixth grade teacher. Everyone in fifth grade felt stressed after nervously wondering if they would be the ones to see Miss Demener's name written at the bottom of their report card.

            Most students' thoughts were negative, especially Maragold, Matt, Cheryl and Eric. They assumed that they would all have Miss Demener, again, or that they would be separated by being placed in different classrooms. They thought that Miss Demener would probably request that they all be put into her sixth grade classroom. That was an awful feeling for them and for the other students who were thinking the same thing. The pessimistic thoughts of the students were softened slightly by the subtle and positive changes in Miss Demener's behaviors during the last couple weeks of school.

            There was no talk, not even rumors, concerning the parents who wanted to talk to Mr. Maldon about Miss Demener's previous strange behaviors. That was highly unusual, too, because school news travels fast and it's nearly impossible to keep anything a secret.

            But those final days did have some fun and laughs for the group. One day Maragold’s stomach was slightly upset¾she said it was from worrying about having Miss Demener in sixth grade¾and when she got to school, she, with much embarrassment, said that she had a bad case of the fanny squirts. Well, no one ever heard of that before, and the group just stared at her with questioning eyes. Maragold realized that they didn't understand, so she said, with an embarrassed expression, that fanny squirts was a very gross, but funny term, that her dad used instead of saying "diarrhea." She said her mom didn't like it at all, but her dad said it anyway. Then she gave a smiling apology for saying such a crappy thing to us. Unfortunately, no one was feeling as happy and humorous as they normally would have been, so all they did was give a slight smile and a soft giggle, except for Eric, whose eyes were full of tears as he tried desperately not to burst out into screaming laughter. He was easily entertained.

            I’ll miss Eric. He hardly ever lets anything, or anyone upset him. Yes, he can be strange, inconsiderate, rude and gross at times, but I have learned, as Maragold, Matt and Cheryl have learned, that he is usually funny and fun. When he sees that sadness threatens to smother his close group of friends, he’s the guy with the jokes and the weird behavior that tends to breathe happiness and humor back into the deflated lungs of his friends.

            I’ll certainly miss Cheryl. Her support and friendship with Maragold and Matt has always been intensely loyal, right from the very first day of fourth grade when she met Mara on the “Big Twinkie”—Lately, Maragold has thought of her big, yellow school bus as a giant Twinkie, so she has been comically calling school buses, “Big Twinkies.” Cheryl even learned to like and enjoy Eric’s weird personality¾although it took quite awhile to happen. Also, I’ve often sensed that Maragold considered it an extremely pleasant stroke of luck to have met Cheryl. Maragold felt that she and Cheryl were more than close friends, and that they were more like sisters. They both had that feeling and it created a very strong bond between them.

            After they all giggled at Maragold’s crappy joke, Eric said, “ I would like to apologize to everyone for all of my fifth grade flying biscuits.” When he smiled, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, we knew something weird would soon fly from his mouth.

            The group looked curiously at Eric, but it was Matt who said, “What on Earth is a flying biscuit?" Immediately Matt had the strongest feeling that he shouldn’t have asked that question.

            Maragold quickly stated, "Flying biscuit? Is that what you get when you cross Betty Crocker with a UFO?"

            Eric responded, “You guys don't know what a flying biscuit is?” He said this as if it were half question and half statement. “It’s a fart, fart fart.” Then Eric pursed his lips and made three strange and funny noises. When he was finished he winked at his friends and smiled so widely that every one of his bright-white teeth were visible. It was his best “white picket fence smile."

            Maragold, Matt and Cheryl just rolled their eyes at Eric’s gross joke, but before anyone had a chance to say anything, Eric confided in them that he regretted not playing any funny tricks in the art room this year.

            He said, “You know? I should have cut out the letter “F” from some black construction paper, stuck a piece of tape on the back of it and then brought it to art class with me.”

            “What for?” responded Maragold, before Matt finished whispering to her, "Don't ask him."

            “You need to ask? Heck, it’s simple," Eric said with another "picket fence smile," then continued to explain. "As we waited outside the art room for Mrs. Gener to let us in, I could have stuck the letter “F” in front of the plaque on the door that says ART ROOM. Then it would have said FART ROOM. And what better name can you have for a room where I let loose so many of those flying biscuits?” Eric grinned devilishly, then slapped his thigh. He almost always laughed at his own jokes, even when others didn't laugh at all. But now the whole group laughed at Eric's jokes, even though a few minutes ago they were feeling more sad than they had been feeling at any other time in fifth grade.

            Then Matt also decided to be funny and cheer up the group by referring to Miss Demener as a "skeleton," then defining a skeleton as “human bones with the person scraped off them.”

            Cheryl was hungry and started talking about lunch. At first, the rest of the group thought she was going to tell a joke. But she was acting serious about a new sandwich that she invented. She called it a "potato chip sandwich." She said that it was just a lot of potato chips, with ketchup, pickle slices, and crushed black olives. Cheryl told us that it was best¾so the crumbs don't make a mess¾to put the potato chips between two pieces of bread and crush them before adding the ketchup, pickle slices and black olives.

            Her friends grinned at her unappetizing description, but they were thinking that she must be joking. When she saw the uncertain smiles, she said, "It's not a joke. I'm being serious. It's a really yummy sandwich." She said she’d show them sometime. She added that the flavor was super delicious, then licked her lips as if she could actually taste it.

CHAPTER 21:  REPORT CARDS

            The last day of school finally arrived, but while the students felt very nervous, Miss Demener appeared to be happier than the students had seen her at any time during the entire year. Her smile startled every one of them, and when she started humming a happy tune, the students thought they must be dreaming because this couldn't be the "real" Miss Demener.

            I had been feeling very sad these last few days of school. I was even having a hard time reading thoughts because I couldn't concentrate. It was as if a thick cloud had settled over me, and that cloud repelled the thoughts of other people, like water splashing off a tent.

            This last day of school would be even shorter than a half day. All the Kroy Elementary School students came at the regular time in the morning, but they got to go home at 10:00 A.M., right after their teachers gave them their final report cards.

            Miss Demener’s behavior was strikingly different all morning. She had been smiling and humming happily earlier, but she also acted polite, calm and surprisingly friendly. She was even allowing her students to play games to help pass the time until their buses arrived. All her students were naturally suspicious of her new behavior, although, if they had thought about it, they would have realized that it was really a very slow and positive change that had happened over the last couple of weeks. Occasionally some students looked over their shoulders to see if she was angry yet. Like calm weather before a bad storm, those students waited for her to start yelling at someone, or at the entire class. But that didn't happen.

            The students had been in school about an hour, and it was now 9:30 A.M. Miss Demener asked everyone to help straighten up the tables, desks and chairs, and to put the board games away so she could pass out their final report cards. I had no knowledge of anyone's report card grades, nor did I know what teacher anyone would have for sixth grade. That information was not memorized by Miss Demener and even if it was, I couldn't read her thoughts unless she was actually thinking about the report card information for a particular student. Also, just because I have magic, thought-reading powers doesn't mean that I have to use them. Actually, I thought that this was a good time not to use them so that things could just happen naturally.

            When everyone was seated and quiet, Miss Demener told the students that when she passed out the report cards, they should look at them carefully and ask any questions that they had about them before they went home. She also said that once the report cards were all passed out that the students could leave their desks and visit their classmates.

            The report cards were enclosed in open business envelopes that were labeled with the Kroy Elementary School’s return address in the upper left hand corner. Many of the students took a deep breath, while staring at their envelopes, as if they thought there was something dangerous inside of them. It was as if reaching into those envelopes to grab their report card was like having to reach into a hole in the ground, not knowing what animal, or thing, was in that hole.

            I watched as Maragold, Matt, Cheryl and Eric pulled their report cards out of the envelopes. I also noticed Miss Demener standing in the front of the classroom with the nicest, most pleasant smile that she had displayed over the entire school year. It made me both nervous and suspicious, but suddenly both those feelings vanished and were replaced with an uncertain, but pleasant feeling, as if something good was about to happen.

            Those students who hesitated to pull their report cards out of the envelopes soon saw that Maragold and her group had done it, so they found their own courage and did the same thing, quickly pulling their report cards from the envelopes.

            The students started walking around the classroom, but what really grabbed my attention was that none of the students looked at their grades first. They all skipped the grades section and immediately looked at the bottom of their report card, where it said the name of the teacher that they would have for sixth grade.

            Maragold and Matt gave each other surprised looks, then they both looked into the startled eyes of Cheryl and Eric. Cheryl and Eric looked back at Maragold and Matt with their own surprised expressions. All four friends had raised eyebrows, bright eyes, and broad smiles as they all whispered, "Mr. Bunnlow?"

            They suddenly realized that Mr. Bunnlow was moving from fourth grade to sixth grade for the next school year and that all four friends would be in his classroom. They were so delighted that they felt like screaming their happiness and dancing with joy, but they didn’t.

            Rather than scream, and possibly upsetting Miss Demener, Maragold and Matt reached out for each other and hugged, right there in the middle of the classroom and in front of all their classmates. They looked like happy, silly, dancing partners. Then, with the excitement being so overpowering, Maragold kissed Matt on the cheek. Matt was shocked, embarrassed, happy and excited all at the same time. His face blushed with a reddish glow, but he was smiling.

            Eric looked at Cheryl. She didn't like the look of mischief in his eyes, so when he reached out to hug her, she held up her open hand to signal him to stop, gave him a stern look, and said, "Don't you dare do that!"

            Eric laughed and said, "Can't blame a guy for trying, can ya?"

            "I can, and I do. So keep your distance, fella," Cheryl replied, as they both gave a slight smile to each other.

            Maragold stepped away from Matt, realizing that kissing him on the cheek had embarrassed him. She held her left fingers over her mouth as her eyes shyly stared at Matt and gave him an unspoken apology. The big smile on Matt’s red face let her know that he wasn't mad and that his embarrassment came more from being surprised than from the innocent kiss on his cheek.

            The whole class witnessed the actions of Maragold and Matt, then Cheryl and Eric, and happily roared with laughter. It appeared that all the laughter that Miss Demener's students should have had during the school year, and was still bottled-up inside them, came surging out now and filled the room with an avalanche of abundant, pleasant-sounding laughter.

            No one seemed to realize that there should be a few students who should be acting very unhappy. Those unhappy students would be the ones who got Miss Demener for their sixth grade teacher. But as I looked around the classroom, I couldn't see any sad faces, only smiling, happy faces with loud laughter flowing, like waterfalls, from their open mouths. It was such a delightful, happy, joyous sight to see. Then the students and I heard Miss Demener laughing out loud and joining us in our happiness.

            Miss Demener, laughing? That's incredible, we all thought. What's going on? What was happening, and why was it happening? But our confusion was no match for the flood of laughter that that was rising, like the tide, in the classroom.

            “All right, everyone!” Miss Demener yelled in order to be heard above all the loud, joyous laughter. “Please be seated again and let me have your attention for a couple of minutes. I have a very important announcement to make.”

            When the class heard Miss Demener raise her voice they all thought that her old, mean, yelling personality had returned. They returned in their desks, faced the front of the room, sat up straight and remained quiet.

            They didn’t know if they were in trouble or not, so they remained silent and waited. Some students feared that Miss Demener would say that the name of their sixth grade teacher, written at the bottom of their report cards, was a mistake and that they would have her next year. The students held their breath while waiting for Miss Demener to speak. Everyone’s eyes were locked on her face. It was a very strange, unfamiliar face, too, because it was smiling at them. Many of the students thought, "Could this smiling, happy person really be Miss Demener, or was she a cloned alien that just looked exactly like her?" Of course, dear reader, if she were really an alien, it would be easy to tell. All we’d have to do is watch her when she ate. Aliens only eat Mars candy bars and Martian-mallows, right?

            “Boys and girls," said Miss Demener in a friendly voice, "I’m leaving teaching because I have a different job. It's a much better paying job, but that's not the main reason that I took it. I took the new job mostly because I realize that I would be more satisfied working for a business. Because I'm good at math, I'm going to be working in the business office of the Kodiak Bear Camera Company.

            "I also realized that I don't work very well with children. It's not your fault, though, it's my fault. I know that I have a stern, demanding personality and that I'm too impatient and overly serious to be a really effective teacher. Well, at least that's what Mr. Maldon told me when we had a long discussion about whether or not teaching would be a rewarding career for me. His opinion hurt, of course, but he is correct. I can see that now.

            "I've been thinking seriously about all of you for a couple of weeks, and I know that I owe you an apology for my impatience and meanness. I offer that apology to you right now. I am very sorry that I didn't make fifth grade a lot more fun for you. But, according to your high test scores and report card grades, most of you should be well prepared for sixth grade. I'm very thankful that I didn't fail you in that area.

            “Mr. Bunnlow is such a good teacher that I also went to him for advice, after I talked to Mr. Maldon. Mr. Bunnlow was very kind and helpful. I wish I had talked to him sooner. He is very understanding and insightful, so I can see why so many of his former students like him so much. I also understand why so many third graders hope that they have him for their fourth grade teacher. He told me something that I shall always remember, as should all teachers whose goal it is to be excellent at their job. He told me that any student’s mistakes should give a wise and dedicated teacher the golden opportunity to use his or her teaching skills and talents to teach instead of using the student’s lack of skill to criticize, which almost always has a negative affect on the student’s desire and motivation to learn. I know that I didn’t do a very good job with that this year, and I'm sorry about that, too.

            "You're probably wondering why I've changed so much over the last few weeks of school, and maybe you're also wondering how that happened. Normally teachers wouldn’t talk to students about their personal problems, but with Mr. Maldon's permission, and some valuable advice from Mr. Bunnlow, I'm going to explain why I acted so poorly for most of the school year. I feel that I owe you that explanation because I was so unfriendly and unkind for most of the year and, also, because I don't want you to think that my poor behaviors are normal for a teacher.

            "I lost my job at my other school because they didn't need as many teachers. I was trying to get another permanent teaching job, and at the same time I was also being a substitute teacher in other schools. It created a lot of pressure, stress and bad feelings between my husband and I. I started to feel sad and angry almost all the time. Then I found out that I was going to have a baby. But I was always upset, very sad, and angry with myself and my husband. The doctor said that that's why I lost the baby. The baby died before it was born. Then my husband and I decided to get a divorce, and we did. I still needed a job, and I was lucky enough to get hired here at the Kroy School. But I had to do my best to hide all my sadness and anger, and also try to hide the fact that I was upset most of the time. I guess I was a good actor because I got this fifth grade job. But I was very depressed, boys and girls. I was sad, angry, upset, unfair, impatient, humorless, and a lot of other negative things. Because of that, I treated all of you very badly. I am so very sorry about that. What I had is called 'clinical depression.' Usually it is caused by the lack of, or decreased amount of a certain brain chemical. You can usually tell that a person has 'clinical depression' when you see that sadness, anger and negative attitudes have taken control of that person's life. All that person sees and feels is sadness and a strong feeling of hopelessness. A depressed person also feels worthless, and that they don't deserve love, kindness, success, or friends. Sometimes that person even thinks about suicide. I was lucky because I went to see a doctor and she gave me medicine that restores my brain's chemical balance. So now I can enjoy life again. I just started taking anti-depression medication about three weeks ago, and I feel much better already. I'm enjoying my life again. I wish I had gone to the doctor sooner. Then I could have made fifth grade a lot more fun for all of you. Once again I ask you to please accept my sincere apology for my poor behaviors and attitudes toward all of you. . . . Oh! One more thing. When the medication made me feel a lot better, I tried to be honest with myself. I asked myself if I thought I could be an excellent teacher. I came to the conclusion that I couldn't, and I sure don't want to put another class through the bad experiences that I have put all of you through.

            "Okay. I've said enough about my problems. I hope you all have the best summer that you've ever had. Now please line up for early dismissal.”

            Well, the students were so shocked, so stunned, that they appeared to be stuck in their chairs. It was as if they had sat on a mound of Super Glue, and it held their rear-ends tightly to their seats.

            Maragold, Matt, Cheryl and Eric, however, had no problem rising from their seats to get in line. They were so happy that tears were in their eyes. They just stared at each other without speaking a word. It was a happy silence. Maragold thought that Miss Demener had seemed so sincere when she wished them all 'good luck.' Maragold also thought that it must have taken a great deal of courage to apologize to her students for her unsatisfactory behaviors and even more courage to leave her job to start a new career.

            Maragold stood in line with a new-found respect for Miss Demener. Maragold also realized that everyone, adults included, make mistakes and just because Miss Demener was a teacher didn’t exempt her from making mistakes. What’s most important, she thought, is whether or not a person learns from their mistakes and then uses that learning to prevent or reduce future mistakes. Her mom and dad had explained that to her a few years ago. Miss Demener appeared to have learned that lesson well, and Maragold admired her for it. Maragold found herself smiling at Miss Demener. Miss Demener noticed the smile and returned a warm, friendly, sincere smile to Mara.

            The rest of the students suddenly found that they were not glued to their seats and rose to get into the line. As they did that, Maragold remembered that Miss Demener had been unusually happy for a couple of weeks. And one reason for that happiness was probably that she realized that she had a serious problem being a good teacher and did something positive about it. She'd gotten advice and help for her problems, then made an important and courageous decision to seek a more suitable career. Maragold hoped that Miss Demener would be happy and that her new job would be very rewarding for her.

            As Miss Demener’s class walked down the hallway, their smiles were the biggest and the brightest of any other class. And as they walked past Mr. Bunnlow’s fourth grade classroom, he was standing by the door with his own class, smiling at Maragold, Matt, Cheryl and Eric. He winked at all of them and gave them the two-fisted 'thumbs-up,' everything is all right sign.

            When Maragold saw Mr. Bunnlow, her immediate thought was that, somehow, Mr. Bunnlow had arranged for all of them to be together for their final year in elementary school. She felt certain that her hunch was correct. She mentioned it to Matt, Cheryl and Eric. They agreed that it was certainly possible and probably true that Mr. Bunnlow had quietly worked out arrangements for them all to be together, again, in sixth grade. They thought it sounded exactly like something that Mr. Bunnlow would do and I knew, by reading his thoughts, that they were, in fact, correct.

            As the Maragold gang was walking down the sidewalk to their buses, Maragold reminded her three close friends about the time that they had asked Mr. Bunnlow if he believed in having clubs for elementary school age students. And without any hesitation Mr. Bunnlow had very seriously said, “Only when kindness and logic fail to work.”

            They all remembered how Mr. Bunnlow had a hard time keeping a straight face until he finally laughed with them about his joke. We, of course, meant a club like in a school “chess club,” but Mr. Bunnlow was joking about a club like a very large stick that a “caveman” would carry. They didn’t know, until he told that joke, at the beginning of fourth grade, that he could be so funny. But perhaps what they liked, even better than his joke, was that he had a joyful sparkle in his eyes and a pleasant tone in his voice that let his students know that he liked them, enjoyed their company and respected them.

            It was a warm, bright, clear, sunny day, as they reached their “Big Twinkies,” and that’s the vision that became imprinted in their minds about their own futures: warm, bright, clear and sunny. And, you know? I had the feeling that they were correct.

                                                AFTERWORD

Dear Students/Parents/Teachers,

            Although "clinical depression" is classified as a mental disorder due to a chemical imbalance in the brain, it usually affects a person's entire body. It can affect the way a person thinks and the way he/she feels mentally, emotionally, and physically. It can occur in children and in adults, but children will be less likely to know how to handle it, or to know who to go to for help. Sometimes the personality and physical changes can be extreme, so it is very important for parents and teachers to watch their children/students carefully, and bring them to a doctor if clinical depression is suspected.

            Clinical depression can be a serious health problem, but it can also be treated very effectively with counseling and/or medication so that it doesn't have a serious negative affect on a person's behaviors, personality, job competence, physical health, appearance and/or the ability to handle everyday decisions and stress.

            Please be alert to the symptoms of clinical depression: frequent feelings of severe sadness, hopelessness, or guilt; loss of interest and pleasure in daily activities; sleep problems (too much or too little); unusual fatigue; problems making decisions, or thinking clearly; unexplained crying; changes in weight, or appetite; and talk of suicide, or of hurting other people.

            Please help those who may desperately need your assistance. They will be grateful for your concern, your generous act of kindness, and your love.

Sincerely, .......Bill Sheehan.......