Read Online Jack Adrift by Jack Gantos - Free Book Online

more.”
    â€œImpossible,” she would whisper, swooning slightly. “I’m crazy about you.”
    I was back to wishing I were something I was not. I just couldn’t help myself, and this kind of mindless fantasy conversation occupied my brain for most of the day. Still, a small part of me kept whispering in my ear, “Get a grip on yourself! You are in fourth grade. Grow up! Be a man!” Even though I knew my fantasy life was a complete waste of time, it was too blissful to resist.
    As I sat in class I had to keep an eye on myself so she wouldn’t catch me staring vacantly at her with honey-glazed eyes. Instead, I was sneaky. I dreamed my hazy love dreams while pretending to be interested in what she was saying. I tried to sit up straight at my desk and look as solid as a fifth president on Mount Rushmore. Had she ever given us a pop quiz, I wouldn’t even have known what subject to fear. Half the time I didn’t even realize I was in school, I was so wrapped up in the fantasy
of her accepting my marriage proposal, which was simultaneously broadcast over the school intercom.
    One afternoon while I stared out at her as if looking into the eyes of a hypnotist, I suddenly realized she had been standing in front of the entire class with her hands on her hips and a look on her face that meant she was cooking up something extra special for us to do. There were eighteen of us and slowly, one by one, boys and girls, we looked up from our work, or daydreaming, and realized she had a powerful thought she needed to share. So we waited. And waited. And waited, until the suspense was killing us. Our faces stretched toward her like flowers reaching for the sun. There was so much torque in the anticipation that it was nearly impossible to sit still in our chairs and we nearly popped out of them like old seat springs busting loose.
    Finally, she raised her left pointer finger in the air and spoke with precise enunciation. “The great thinkers of the world have always claimed it is better to know one thing really well than to know a little about a lot of things,” she declared. “Do you know what I mean?”
    I raised my hand and started talking at the same time. “My mom always says it is better to buy one good thing than a lot of cheap junk.”
    â€œMy point exactly!” she said. “A lot of junk is still junk. And a lot of bits and pieces of knowledge just makes you scatterbrained. So, I’ve come up with an assignment
that you can really sink your teeth into—something you can thoroughly immerse yourself in. I want each of you to go home tonight and check your bookshelves or go to the library or a bookstore and think about what your favorite book is, then bring it in. But choose carefully, because what we are going to do is copy it word for word into our journals. This way, from writing it down it will be as if you created it—each word—each sentence—each thought—the style of the writing—the voice—the range—the punctuation—you will understand everything about how it was written. And in the end, your favorite book will be etched into your brain forever and you will know it so well you will be able to recite it by heart to your children and grandchildren.”
    I don’t know what the other kids thought, but I imagined she looked down at us like Cleopatra ordering her loyal scribes to copy books onto papyrus for all of mankind. She was incredible.
    â€œThen, once we have all finished our books, we will dress up as the main characters and parade through the school, leading all the other kids into the auditorium for a Reading Roundup. Then each of you will corral a group of students and recite a passage, and in doing so you will become the living, breathing book.”
    That part sounded a little scary because I wasn’t good at memorizing anything word for word. I knew kids who
could recite Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address