Just Stupid! (20 page)

   ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘The same.’

   ‘What about that one?’ she says, pointing to the plane in the bottom right-hand corner. ‘Is it going the same way as the others?’

   I can’t believe it. It’s going a different way!

   ‘But how . . . when . . . why . . . ?’ I stammer. ‘It wasn’t like that before . . .’

   ‘Hmmm,’ says Mrs Baxter, making a mark in her notebook. ‘Looks like another area to work on. Run along now and get some fresh air.’

   I go out of the building and am about to cross the yard back to the senior school when Mrs Baxter calls after me.

   ‘Andy! Where do you think you’re going?’

   ‘Back to the senior school, Mrs Baxter,’ I say.

   ‘No, Andy, that’s not allowed,’ she says.

‘Preps have to stay in the area bound by the building and the big tree.’

   ‘But I’m hungry,’ I say. ‘I have to get something to eat.’

   ‘Sorry, Andy,’ she says. ‘But you should have thought about that before you came here.’

   I look over at the senior school. All my friends are there. Danny and Lisa are sitting next to each other. Lisa has a bag of chips and Danny is shoving a pie into his mouth.

   I can’t stand it.

   I turn around and go and sit under the big tree with the Preps. They are all eating as well. Biscuits, cheese sticks, muesli bars, donuts—you name it, they’ve got it. Bradley is eating an enormous piece of chocolate cake. It’s almost bigger than his head. And he’s got a pretty big head.

   ‘You’re not going to eat all of that, are you?’ I say.

   ‘Probably not,’ he says.

   ‘Can I have some?’ I say.

   ‘If you can run fast enough,’ he says. He throws it into the middle of the yard.

   I run to pick it up. I’m just about to grab what’s left of the cake when the dog that
hangs around the schoolyard comes out of nowhere and wolfs it down. I feel like I’m going to cry again.

   The bell rings and we all go back inside.

   In the classroom there are counting blocks laid out on a table. There are two different types of blocks—elephant blocks and chicken blocks.

   ‘Now it’s time for maths,’ says Mrs Baxter.

   ‘I have two elephant blocks and three chicken blocks. If I take one elephant away what do I have left?’

   Oh that’s so easy! I put up my hand but Bradley beats me to it.

   ‘One elephant and three chickens,’ he says.

   ‘Very good,’ says Mrs Baxter. ‘And if I take one chicken away, how many do I have left?’

   Easy again! I shoot my hand up.

   ‘Andy?’ says Mrs Baxter.

   ‘One elephant and no chickens,’ I say.

   ‘Don’t you mean one elephant and two chickens?’ she says.

   ‘No,’ I say. ‘You might think you would have two chickens left, but it’s a bit trickier than that. See, even if you took only one chicken away you’d still end up with no
chickens because the elephants would stomp on them.’

   ‘I don’t think you quite understand, Andy,’ says Mrs Baxter, making another note in her book. ‘We’re not talking about real elephants and real chickens. These are just counting blocks.’

   Everybody laughs. I hate Preps.

   After a bit more counting it’s time for art.

   We have to draw a picture of our house and family. Now this is something I
can
do.

   I look across at Bradley’s picture. It’s really bad. Wonky walls. Stupid colours. The sky is green, the people are all the wrong size and shape, and he’s even got a purple dog flying around in the sky. I could do a better drawing than that with my eyes shut, but I’m not going to take any chances. I’m going to do something really impressive.

   I use my ruler to draw the sides of my house so that they are dead straight. I rule a perfectly pointed roof with a chimney sticking out the side. I draw a little curly wisp of grey smoke coming out of the chimney and colour the sky blue, the grass green and the sun yellow. It’s the best drawing I’ve ever done. Good enough to hang in an art gallery, I reckon.

   ‘Mrs Baxter,’ calls Bradley. ‘Andy’s copying me.’

   ‘I am not,’ I say.

   ‘Are too,’ he says.

   ‘That will do,’ says Mrs Baxter. ‘Copying somebody else’s work is very naughty, Andy.’

   ‘I wasn’t copying,’ I say.

   ‘He was,’ says Bradley.

   Mrs Baxter picks up the two drawings and studies them. They look nothing like each other. Anyone can see that.

   ‘See?’ I say. ‘I didn’t copy his.’

   ‘No,’ says Mrs Baxter. ‘You’re right. You didn’t copy. Your picture is very different to Bradley’s.’

   ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘He’s got stupid purple dogs flying around a green sky. And his walls are wonky! Look how straight mine are! And everything is the right colour. Mine is much better than Bradley’s.’

   ‘Both of your pictures are very good,’ says Mrs Baxter. ‘Bradley’s picture may not be strictly realistic, Andy, but it’s very creative. You could learn a lot from Bradley. Try to work more from your heart and less from your head.’

   I feel like crying again. But this time I
don’t just feel like crying. I actually burst into tears.

   Mrs Baxter puts her arm around me,

   ‘You haven’t got off to a very good start today, have you?’ she says. ‘Maybe you’ll do better tomorrow.’

   ‘I won’t be here tomorrow,’ I say. ‘I’m just here for the day.’

   Mrs Baxter looks concerned.

   ‘The day?’ she says. ‘Mr Dobson didn’t say anything about this being just for the day. He said I was to keep you here until you were ready to go back up. And, quite frankly, Andy, I just don’t think you are ready yet. In fact, I’m not sure how you got up there in the first place.’

   ‘But . . . but . . . but . . .’ I blubber.

   ‘Now come on, Andy,’ she says. ‘Cheer up. If you apply yourself and work really hard, you’ll be back up with the big children before you know it. And, meanwhile, I’m sure Bradley will enjoy looking after you and being your special friend. Won’t you, Bradley?’

   Bradley nods.

   ‘Yes, Mrs Baxter,’ he says. ‘I’ll look after him.’

   I look around at all the colourful posters
on the walls and the cheery decorations. There’s a big pink octopus in the corner and two teddies in a hot-air balloon hanging from the roof. And at the side of the room there’s even a little hook with my name on it. I guess there are plenty of worse places I could be.