this—cheerful. I sighed. She wouldn’t be wondering if Orin’s family was okay, if his father was the way fathers ought to be. Her husband was probably a logger too.
I was starting to wish I’d lied and said I wanted to be an airplane pilot or something when I grew up.
Before, I’d been looking forward to showing off some of Mom’s printed-up greeting cards. It always bothered me that only a few gift shops carried them. I wanted more of the kids to see them. But now, as far as my report went … Well, telling about painting pictures for art galleries was going to sound awfully wimpy after this. A nice thing for a mom to do, maybe, but not a goal I felt like bragging about for myself. I mean, it isn’t the least bit dangerous.
“Thank you so much for coming in,” Mrs. Perkins told Elvis Downard when he’d finished. “Class?”
An enthusiastic chorus of thank-yous followed him out the door.
“Now.” Mrs. Perkins turned around, all flushed. “We have time for one more report. Let’s see … Robert Hummer?”
Oh, no. I knew I couldn’t do it. Not right after this.
I mumbled that I wasn’t ready.
“What’s that, Robert? Speak up.”
“I said I’m sorry, but my report isn’t finished.”
Mrs. Perkins’s eyebrows went together. She tapped the eraser end of her pencil on her desk blotter, her glow fading.
Go ahead, I thought. Give me any kind of look you want. It’s better than having Orin and everybody laughing at me.
I hung my head.
9
Halloween Shivers
I was still feeling kind of bummed out when I walked into the cafeteria that night for the party, but I started to cheer up when I saw my costume was a hit.
“How’d he
do
that?” I heard West Feikart whisper.
I was wearing a robot suit of toy Construx pieces. Dad had helped me rig up the lights on it with batteries so I not only glowed in the dark, I flashed!
For a minute I checked out everybody else’s costumes while they checked out mine. All West had done was add greasy green camouflage makeup to the clothes he always wore. Also a helmet with ferns stuck in it. Ben was a mummy. Willow Daley had turned her hair punk-rocker purple. MonicaSturdivant looked totally silly as a kitty, of course, tiptoeing around, meowing at everybody. She sounded like that puppet on Mr. Rogers. “Meow, like your meow costume meow.”
Freddie and Lucy—or maybe I should say Mickey and Minnie Mouse—were bug-eyed at all this. They clung to Mom’s legs when somebody in a rubber gorilla mask stuck his face down at them and made scary noises.
“Knock it off, Orin,” West said.
So that was Orin. Should have known.
“It’s just pretend,” Mom said soothingly, glancing at Orin. “Look. See, there’s Daddy, over by the cornstalks.”
Dad had come early to fill up the washtub for apple bobbing. Spotting us, he gave the little two-fingered oink-oink salute he’d been practicing ever since he put on his rubber pig snout. Then he turned around and wagged his curly pink pipe-cleaner tail.
I rolled my eyes. What a nut.
“Daddee! Daddee!” The twins let go of Mom and headed toward him. Mom followed.
By now I didn’t feel so worried about Dad’s nuttiness. For one thing, Mrs. Van Gent was nowhere in sight. Also, lots of people had crazy costumes. Even some of the teachers.
But not Mrs. Perkins. She was selling tickets for the game booths. Looked like her idea of gettingwild and crazy was to wear pants instead of a dress.
The refreshment table was loaded. I’d start with a pumpkin-shaped sugar cookie and go on from there. Carameled apples, doughnuts, popcorn balls …
“Robby, you look terrific!” It was Mrs. Kassel, my teacher from last year. She was ladling punch, wearing a headband with two bobbly eyeballs boinging from wires. She gave me a big silver grin.
I don’t know why, but I loved those braces of hers. Or maybe it was just her smile I liked, with or without braces. She had a neat voice, too, a little husky, like she was
I was starting to wish I’d lied and said I wanted to be an airplane pilot or something when I grew up.
Before, I’d been looking forward to showing off some of Mom’s printed-up greeting cards. It always bothered me that only a few gift shops carried them. I wanted more of the kids to see them. But now, as far as my report went … Well, telling about painting pictures for art galleries was going to sound awfully wimpy after this. A nice thing for a mom to do, maybe, but not a goal I felt like bragging about for myself. I mean, it isn’t the least bit dangerous.
“Thank you so much for coming in,” Mrs. Perkins told Elvis Downard when he’d finished. “Class?”
An enthusiastic chorus of thank-yous followed him out the door.
“Now.” Mrs. Perkins turned around, all flushed. “We have time for one more report. Let’s see … Robert Hummer?”
Oh, no. I knew I couldn’t do it. Not right after this.
I mumbled that I wasn’t ready.
“What’s that, Robert? Speak up.”
“I said I’m sorry, but my report isn’t finished.”
Mrs. Perkins’s eyebrows went together. She tapped the eraser end of her pencil on her desk blotter, her glow fading.
Go ahead, I thought. Give me any kind of look you want. It’s better than having Orin and everybody laughing at me.
I hung my head.
9
Halloween Shivers
I was still feeling kind of bummed out when I walked into the cafeteria that night for the party, but I started to cheer up when I saw my costume was a hit.
“How’d he
do
that?” I heard West Feikart whisper.
I was wearing a robot suit of toy Construx pieces. Dad had helped me rig up the lights on it with batteries so I not only glowed in the dark, I flashed!
For a minute I checked out everybody else’s costumes while they checked out mine. All West had done was add greasy green camouflage makeup to the clothes he always wore. Also a helmet with ferns stuck in it. Ben was a mummy. Willow Daley had turned her hair punk-rocker purple. MonicaSturdivant looked totally silly as a kitty, of course, tiptoeing around, meowing at everybody. She sounded like that puppet on Mr. Rogers. “Meow, like your meow costume meow.”
Freddie and Lucy—or maybe I should say Mickey and Minnie Mouse—were bug-eyed at all this. They clung to Mom’s legs when somebody in a rubber gorilla mask stuck his face down at them and made scary noises.
“Knock it off, Orin,” West said.
So that was Orin. Should have known.
“It’s just pretend,” Mom said soothingly, glancing at Orin. “Look. See, there’s Daddy, over by the cornstalks.”
Dad had come early to fill up the washtub for apple bobbing. Spotting us, he gave the little two-fingered oink-oink salute he’d been practicing ever since he put on his rubber pig snout. Then he turned around and wagged his curly pink pipe-cleaner tail.
I rolled my eyes. What a nut.
“Daddee! Daddee!” The twins let go of Mom and headed toward him. Mom followed.
By now I didn’t feel so worried about Dad’s nuttiness. For one thing, Mrs. Van Gent was nowhere in sight. Also, lots of people had crazy costumes. Even some of the teachers.
But not Mrs. Perkins. She was selling tickets for the game booths. Looked like her idea of gettingwild and crazy was to wear pants instead of a dress.
The refreshment table was loaded. I’d start with a pumpkin-shaped sugar cookie and go on from there. Carameled apples, doughnuts, popcorn balls …
“Robby, you look terrific!” It was Mrs. Kassel, my teacher from last year. She was ladling punch, wearing a headband with two bobbly eyeballs boinging from wires. She gave me a big silver grin.
I don’t know why, but I loved those braces of hers. Or maybe it was just her smile I liked, with or without braces. She had a neat voice, too, a little husky, like she was
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