Pig City (15 page)

At first, the other members of Pig City tried to help her, but they soon had problems of their own as Gabriel continued to pass around the treasures.

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it!” he shouted, holding Tiffany's newspaper high in the air. “Tiffany's Ticklish!”

Tiffany was chased out of the crowd by a mob of would-be ticklers. “It's your fault, Laura!” she shouted as she ran past her.

Laura knew Tiffany was right.

The music started again.

“
I am such a stupid jerk,

Stupid jerk, stupid jerk …”

A boy tossed Kristin's underpants up at the basketball hoop. He missed. Several other boys jumped for the rebound. There were several more attempts at the basket, until the underpants finally got stuck – draped over the rim.

“
I don't have a brain.”

Kristin stared forlornly up at her underpants. Her face was streaked with tears. “I hate you, Laura!” she yelled, in a voice Laura hardly recognized.

The ticklers caught up with Tiffany. She rolled around on the grass, laughing herself to pieces.

“
I'm in love with every girl,

In Mr. Doyle's class.”

Gabriel took out the tape and put in a new one. “Hey, everybody! Listen to this!”

Everyone quieted down.

“
Hello. May I talk to Howard, please?

(I think that was his mother.)”

[
Laughter
]

“
Howard? Oh, Howard, is it really you? This is… your secret admirer. I love you, Howard. You're so handsome.”

(‘Passionately.')

“
I love you passionately!”

“
I can't tell you. I'm afraid you'll break my heart.”

[
Laughter
]

“
That was Debbie. She just called Howard and told him she loved him passionately, didn't you, Debbie?”

“Yes. That was me. I'm Debbie. I disguised my voice because I love Howard so much, and I'm afraid he won't love me back.”

[
Laughter
]

The crowd was hysterical. Everyone jeered at Debbie as she ran to the girls' bathroom.

The yard teacher put her hand on Gabriel's shoulder. She took the boom box from him, then collected the other treasures, except for Kristin's underpants, which she couldn't reach. She made Gabriel sit on a bench for the rest of the recess.

“I trusted you, Laura,” said Allison with tears in her eyes.

Laura didn't know what to say.

“The whole school has seen me naked!” Allison sobbed.

“Hey, Allison!” a boy called. “When are you going to be in
Playboy
?”

She covered her face with her hands and ran.

“Uh-oh,” said another boy. “It's Laura. We better be good. She might tell her boyfriend – Mr. Doyle.”

They laughed.

“Will you invite us to the wedding?”

“How many children are you going to have?”

When the bell rang, she headed back to class alone.
She wasn't George Washington or Martin Luther King anymore. She was Richard Nixon.

“Well, don't expect me to copy any of your dictionary pages for you,” Aaron said to her.

“I don't,” said Laura. “I don't expect anything from anybody.”

“Hi, Laura, what's new?” asked Gabriel. He was stretched out on the bench with his hands behind his head, smiling smugly.

Gabriel wrote his name on the blackboard under the word DICTIONARY, just beneath the box with LAURA in it. He walked proudly back to his seat.

Everyone else remained absolutely silent as Mr. Doyle looked through the Treasures of Pig City laid out across his desk. No one dared laugh.

“Kristin,” said Mr. Doyle.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your underpants are in the office. You can pick them up after school.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the future,” he said, “keep them
under
your pants. That's why they're called
under
pants. A word to the wise.”

Still, no one laughed.

“Allison, will you come here, please.”

Allison's face was red with embarrassment as she stood up in front of a room full of kids, all of whom had seen her naked. She walked to Mr. Doyle's desk.

“You were a very cute baby,” he said. He returned her picture to her.

“Thank you,” said Allison. She tore the picture to bits and dropped it in the trash, then returned to her seat.

“Nathan!” Mr. Doyle thundered.

Nathan shut his eyes tight, scrunching his face. Up to now, he was the only one who had been spared. He stood and slowly walked to meet his doom.

“Did you write this?” asked Mr. Doyle.

He scrunched his face even tighter as he looked at his letter.

Dear Mr. Doyle,

You stink. You are the most ugliest teacher in the school! Your too stupid to be a teacher! And you have bad breath. I hate you.

Sincerely,
Nathan

“Yes, sir,” he squeaked.

Mr. Doyle frowned and shook his head. “Do you realize how bad this is?” he asked.

“It wasn't wise, was it?” said Nathan.

“No, it wasn't,” said Mr. Doyle. “‘Most ugliest'? You know better than that, Nathan. It's either ‘ugliest' or ‘most ugly,' but never ‘most ugliest.' We studied
superlatives at the beginning of the year.”

Nathan's face slowly unscrunched.

“Look how you spelled ‘your,'” Mr. Doyle continued. “‘Your too stupid to be a teacher!'”

“When you spell ‘your' that way, it's a possessive: your book, your house, your foot. In this letter, you meant to use it as a contraction for ‘you are', didn't you?”

“Um, I guess so.”

“Then, how would it have been applied?”

“Um.” Nathan wiped his face. “Y-o-u-apos-trophe-r-e.”

“Why didn't you spell it correctly the first time?”

Nathan shrugged.

“I don't know what's the matter with you, Nathan. You're about to graduate, and you've forgotten everything you've learned. Look at this.

“‘You're too stupid to be a teacher! And you have bad breath.'

“Never begin a sentence with the word ‘and.' You could have made it all one sentence: ‘You're too stupid to be a teacher, and you have bad breath,' or else you could have kept it as two sentences but without the word ‘and': ‘You're too stupid to be a teacher. You have bad breath.' Do you see what I'm saying?”

Nathan nodded.

“Okay, now I want you to go to your seat and
rewrite this letter so that there are no mistakes.”

Nathan returned to his desk. His eyes appeared to be spinning.

“Aaron.”

“Yes, Mr. Doyle.” His face was red.

“I was able to hear this tape during recess. Do you want it erased, or shall I have it for posterity?”

“Erase it.” It became redder.

“Are you certain? You have a very nice voice. Have you ever taken singing lessons?”

“No. Erase it, please.” And redder.

“Do you like the opera?”

“I never heard it.” And redder.

“You should listen to it some time,” said Mr. Doyle. “You might consider being an opera singer when you grow up.”

“I'll think about it,” said Aaron. “Please erase the tape.”

Mr. Doyle put the tape back into the machine and erased it. “Debbie?”

“Erase it,” said Debbie.

“Can I have it?” chirped Howard.

Mr. Doyle erased Debbie's tape. “Tiffany.”

Tiffany walked to his desk. He told her it was a very funny article. She didn't agree. She threw it into the trash.

“Laura!” Mr. Doyle bellowed.

Laura shook her hair back. She wasn't wearing the cap. It was stuffed in her desk. She walked to the front of the room.

She saw her Declaration of Love on Mr. Doyle's desk. She wasn't embarrassed. She felt nothing – except hatred for Gabriel.

The Pig City roster was on his desk, too.

PIG CITY

Laura — President

Tiffany — Vice-President

Allison — Secretary

Kristin — underpants

Debbie — called up Howard and told him she loved him passionately

Yolanda — note to Jonathan

Nathan — letter to Mr. Doyle

Aaron — song

“What happened to Yolanda's note?” asked Mr. Doyle.

“What do you need that for?”

“I was just curious.” He smiled. “I imagine it was quite a note. You're right, it's none of my business. Well, you've had a rough time of it today, haven't you? First the dictionary pages and now this. I suppose
everybody in Pig City blames you.”

“I'm responsible,” she said.

“I guess that's what being a leader is all about, isn't it?” He picked up the Declaration of Love. “I'm very flattered.”

She shrugged.

“Seventeen dictionary pages is a lot, isn't it?” he said. “I can't very well ask someone who loves me to copy that many.” He smiled. “How about if we just call it seven?”

“No, I'll do seventeen,” said Laura. “I don't love you anymore.” She dropped her Declaration into the wastebasket and returned to her seat.

Gabriel was the most popular kid at school. Even Jonathan and Yolanda were impressed by what he had done.

“You were fantastic, Gabe!” said Howard. “Can I please have your autograph?” He handed Gabriel a torn sheet of notebook paper and a pencil.

Gabriel smiled. He took the paper and pencil from Howard and boldly signed his name. “Here you go, Howard.”

“Thanks, Gabe!” said Howard. “I bet you'll be famous some day.”

Gabriel laughed.

“Howard, do you want to copy a dictionary page, too?” asked Mr. Doyle.

“No,” said Howard. He hurried out of the room.

Mr. Doyle followed him out, leaving only Gabriel and Laura.

No one from Pig City had spoken to Laura since recess. They'd been teased and/or tickled all day.
Anybody who didn't know about the treasures soon found out.

Laura stood up and walked to the metal closet. She tore seventeen pages out of a dictionary, one at a time. She didn't bother looking for pages with pictures or bad words. She returned to her desk without even glancing at Gabriel.

Sheila was waiting for Howard by the bike racks. “Did you get it?” she asked.

“No problem,” he said, then gave her the piece of paper with Gabriel's autograph on it.

Sheila looked at it. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” said Howard. “Hey, Sheila?”

“What?”

“Do you think Debbie really likes me?”

“Of course not! Why would she like
you
?”

Laura looked up as Gabriel put his completed dictionary pages on Mr. Doyle's desk. She tried to burn a hole through his brain with her eyes.

He turned and faced her. “What's your problem?” he asked.

She didn't say anything.

He shrugged, took a couple of steps toward the curtain, then stopped. He sighed and turned around.
“If you want, I'll help you copy some of your dictionary pages. I mean, I wrote on the board, too.”

“Go away,” she said coldly. “I hate you!”

“Don't tell me you thought I believed you ate a raw egg.”

“I never lie.”

“Right,” said Gabriel. “Just like the note you said I wrote.”

“I showed it to you! It proved I was telling the truth.”

“Come on. Do you really think I don't know what I wrote? Besides, anyone could see it had been changed.”

“I ate the egg.”

“Tell me another one!” He walked out through the curtain.

She hated him. She waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone, then took her seventeen pages and left. She hadn't copied a single word.

I won't do them, she thought as she headed home. Then Mr. Doyle will have to flunk me. Maybe I'll spend my whole life stuck in the sixth grade. She smiled bitterly. That'll show Mr. Doyle! He'll be sorry he ever did this to me. She imagined herself twenty years old, in Mr. Doyle's class, still owing him seventeen dictionary pages. “I'm sorry I ever tricked you,” he'd say. “Let me copy your dictionary pages for you.”
“No,” she'd tell him. “I can't graduate until I copy them myself. It's your fault. You made the rules.”

She'd be in all the newpapers: TWENTY-YEAR-OLD GIRL STUCK IN SIXTH GRADE! Everybody would know about the mean trick Mr. Doyle played on her, how he used her goodness and turned it around to suit his own evil purposes. He'd be the most hated man in the country.

She sighed. She didn't really hate Mr. Doyle. She didn't love him, but she didn't hate him, either. She hated Gabriel.

“I hate Gabriel!” she shouted to an empty street.

She wondered if she'd ever meet a boy she'd like. The boys will be more mature next year in junior high, she thought. I'll have lots of boyfriends – if I ever graduate.

She walked past the Hollow Creek apartment complex. There was a brick wall, about four feet high, which separated the apartment complex from the sidewalk.

She wondered what her first boyfriend would look like. He'll have dark hair, maybe a little curly. He'll be smart, but he wouldn't study all the time. He'd be good at sports, and he'd also be interested in other things, like art and books. And he'll beat up Gabriel.

She smiled, then suddenly her head jerked back and
banged against the brick wall. “Oh!” she said very quietly.

Someone was pulling her hair from behind the wall. She couldn't turn around. She tried to reach back with her arms. Her eyes watered from the pain.

Suddenly the pulling stopped and she fell to her knees on the sidewalk. She felt dizzy. She sat up against the wall, and took several deep breaths. Her head throbbed.