Pennybaker School Is Revolting, стр. 44
Silence.
“You finished?” I asked.
He nodded. “Continue, Thomas.”
“So you guys can help him memorize facts using your acrostics. Owen can help him with computer questions. Flea, you can help with music history and facts about Australia. Patrice, you’ve got the creative-writing section. And so on.”
“What are you going to help with?” Colton asked. “I doubt there’s going to be magic on this test.”
“Chemistry,” I said. “That was what landed me here in the first place.” For the first time since coming to Pennybaker School, I began to feel that maybe I was gifted in a unique way, even if it was with Grandpa Rudy’s help. Lots of people can be given a magic kit. Not all of them can make water dance.
“You know, it’s not a bad idea,” Babette said.
Samara Lee nodded. “Mr. Smith isn’t very nice. He made me put away my archery set. Nobody’s ever made me put away my archery set. He said it was dangerous.” She rolled her eyes like nobody had ever been hurt by a bow and arrow before.
“He gave me detention for dropping one of my bowling balls,” Cecily said. “I was trying for five.”
“And he threatened to call my parents if I didn’t stop talking,” Babette added. We all looked at her. “My unique gift is talking.” Huh. So I wasn’t so far off in my guess. “Auctioneering, actually,” she added.
“He doesn’t like musicals,” Wesley added, sounding the most offended of all of us. “Not even Newsies. Who doesn’t like Newsies?”
Colton stepped up onto an overturned bucket and pumped his fist in the air. “Thomas is right. We need to get Mr. Faboo back! Who’s with me?”
Everyone shouted that they were with Colton and then began chattering about how each of them was going to help Mr. Faboo. Herb looked very nervous when we all began to file out of the greenhouse with our plan in place.
I noticed him spraying air freshener behind me.
But I didn’t care. Finally, when it really mattered, I had everyone on board.
TRICK #28
A RIVETING QUICK CHANGE
Mr. Faboo came to the picnic table as planned, and we implemented our cram revolution, blitzing him one by one with facts and tricks and thermoses full of hot cocoa and fingerless gloves to help him grip his pencil. When it got so cold that Mr. Faboo’s lips turned blue, Wesley figured out a way to sneak him into the theater through a backstage tunnel. We met in the empty auditorium, our voices echoing with algebra equations and facts about muscles and the names of different types of clouds.
Owen printed out practice tests, and Mr. Faboo got better and better, although his hands shook and a line of sweat appeared on his upper lip while he took them.
By the time he went home, it was dark outside and he looked exhausted, but somehow smarter.
“We’re behind you, Mr. Faboo,” I said, shaking his hand.
Chip leaned in to whisper, “Technically, you’re facing him, so you’re in front of him.”
“I meant figuratively, Chip.” Apparently some of our facts had leaked into my brain, too.
We moved on to the World War II unit in Facts After the Fact. Mr. Smith made us memorize European geography, giving us pop quizzes almost every other day to see how we were doing. We were all doing horribly. Except Chip, of course. He was really great at European geography. And any kind of geography. And any kind of anything, really.
Chip came to class in an interesting outfit. We all watched as he took his seat wearing a pair of wide-leg blue jeans, a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a bandana around his head.
“What is this about?” Mr. Smith asked as soon as Chip sat down.
We were all wondering the same thing.
“This?” Chip gestured to his shirt. “I was under the impression that this week we were studying the war effort on the home front. I’m Rosie the Riveter, the archetype of the strong working woman who flooded factories and other typically male-dominated career ventures because their male counterparts were ‘over there.’ ”
“What does that mean?” Flea whispered to Colton. Colton shrugged.
“It means I’m dressing the part, just the way Mr. Faboo would want it,” Chip said.
“Act After the Fact Month lives again!” Wesley crowed.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that anymore,” Buckley said.
“That is correct. You aren’t. Mr. Mason, I would appreciate it if you’d change back into your proper school uniform, please,” Mr. Smith said.
“I can’t,” Chip said.
“Pardon me?”
“This is what I wore to school today,” Chip said. “My proper school uniform is at home.”
Mr. Smith’s cheeks got puffy. He let out a breath. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow I expect you to be dressed appropriately, or you will have detention.”
Chip’s ears got red, and he looked a little like he was going to cry. Which was pretty unfair. A guy like Chip wasn’t in it for the attention. He really did want to get into the spirit of the lesson by dressing the part. I didn’t see why it was such a big deal for a guy to want to dress up.
I thought about it for a while, and realized that Chip was supporting Mr. Faboo in the best way he knew how. By refusing to let go of Act After the Fact, Chip was making a statement that he fully expected Mr. Faboo to come back. After all Mr. Faboo’s hard work—and ours—we had every reason to feel optimistic about