Read Online The Ice-cream Man by Jenny Mounfield - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenny Mounfield
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better get moving,’ Mr Gunner said.
‘Don’t want to be late for class.’
‘Yes, sir, we were just gunner go,’ Marty said. He spun around on his back wheels.
The teacher grabbed the back of Marty’s chair and yanked him back. ‘What was that, mister?’
Marty’s eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. ‘Uh, I
said, yes, Mr Gunner.’
Rick couldn’t hold the laughter in any longer. It exploded out of him in a braying rush.
Mr Gunner’s head swivelled around. ‘Seems you boys need a little lesson in respect. I’ll see you both in the detention room at lunchtime.’
‘Oh, crud, that means we’re gunner miss lunch,’
Rick said, which made him laugh even harder.
‘And a lesson about inappropriate language wouldn’t go astray either.’ Mr Gunner dissected Rick with his gaze. ‘As for you, Aaron, I’m not impressed with the company you choose to keep these days. You might want to think about that.’ He gave Aaron a friendly slap on the back, then stalked off.
‘Man, I’m so glad he’s not my teacher,’ Marty said.
‘Yeah, he’s kinda wound a bit tight all right,’ Rick said.
Aaron licked his lips. ‘Not usually. He’s a pretty good teacher. Always listens when you’ve got a problem. Actually seems interested, not like some of the other teachers.’
Rick snorted. ‘Yeah, right. Can’t say I’ve seen that side of him. All he ever does is get up me. Anyway, I’ll see ya later. Don’t need Mr Hutz getting on my case for being late.’ With a jaw-cracking yawn, Rick made his way to E Block.
6
Marty glanced at Rick. They had the detention room to themselves, which was practically unheard of.
‘School ends in a couple of weeks,’ he said, flinging a sultana into the air and catching it in his mouth. Most of the contents of the box littered the floor around him. ‘Doing anything for Christmas?’
Rick balanced on the back legs of his chair and stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth. ‘Nah.’
‘My mother will probably make us go to my aunt’s house, like she always does. Man, that is so boring. Last year –’ Marty stopped talking as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Mr Gunner stood in the doorway watching them. As his eyes met Marty’s he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘That chair has four legs for a reason, mister. I’ll thank you to sit on it the way its maker intended,’ he snapped at Rick.
The chair crashed to the floor and Rick thumped his elbows onto the desk.
‘And I’ll thank you both to put that food away. This is detention, not a social luncheon.’
Marty grinned. Luncheon? Geez, what century did this guy come from?
Mr Gunner flicked an imaginary speck off his shirt and opened the folder he carried. He withdrew two sheets of paper and placed one before each boy.
‘Now, I want these completed by the end of lunch, otherwise you’ll both be back here every day until they are.’
Rick glanced at Marty then down at the paper on the desk before him. ‘Equations? You’ve gotta be kidding. Nobody does maths in detention.’
Mr Gunner smoothed a hand over his neatly parted hair and smiled. ‘They do now, mister.’
‘But there must be twenty sums here. We have to do all of them?’ Marty said.
‘Sure do, buckaroo, and you only have –’ Mr Gunner consulted his flashy gold watch, ‘fifty-five minutes and seven seconds in which to do them.’ He leaned against the desk in front of Marty and folded his arms.
When both boys had their heads down, the teacher moved to the front of the room and sat down to eat his lunch.
The next forty minutes dragged by. Marty scrawled a line of numbers down the page. He’d get them all wrong for sure and would have to spend the last weeks of school inside this room. Maths had always been his weakest subject. Mr Gunner’s words echoed in his mind: I want these completed by the end of lunch, otherwise you’ll both be back here every day until they are .
Marty grinned. He pulled a
‘Don’t want to be late for class.’
‘Yes, sir, we were just gunner go,’ Marty said. He spun around on his back wheels.
The teacher grabbed the back of Marty’s chair and yanked him back. ‘What was that, mister?’
Marty’s eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. ‘Uh, I
said, yes, Mr Gunner.’
Rick couldn’t hold the laughter in any longer. It exploded out of him in a braying rush.
Mr Gunner’s head swivelled around. ‘Seems you boys need a little lesson in respect. I’ll see you both in the detention room at lunchtime.’
‘Oh, crud, that means we’re gunner miss lunch,’
Rick said, which made him laugh even harder.
‘And a lesson about inappropriate language wouldn’t go astray either.’ Mr Gunner dissected Rick with his gaze. ‘As for you, Aaron, I’m not impressed with the company you choose to keep these days. You might want to think about that.’ He gave Aaron a friendly slap on the back, then stalked off.
‘Man, I’m so glad he’s not my teacher,’ Marty said.
‘Yeah, he’s kinda wound a bit tight all right,’ Rick said.
Aaron licked his lips. ‘Not usually. He’s a pretty good teacher. Always listens when you’ve got a problem. Actually seems interested, not like some of the other teachers.’
Rick snorted. ‘Yeah, right. Can’t say I’ve seen that side of him. All he ever does is get up me. Anyway, I’ll see ya later. Don’t need Mr Hutz getting on my case for being late.’ With a jaw-cracking yawn, Rick made his way to E Block.
6
Marty glanced at Rick. They had the detention room to themselves, which was practically unheard of.
‘School ends in a couple of weeks,’ he said, flinging a sultana into the air and catching it in his mouth. Most of the contents of the box littered the floor around him. ‘Doing anything for Christmas?’
Rick balanced on the back legs of his chair and stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth. ‘Nah.’
‘My mother will probably make us go to my aunt’s house, like she always does. Man, that is so boring. Last year –’ Marty stopped talking as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Mr Gunner stood in the doorway watching them. As his eyes met Marty’s he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. ‘That chair has four legs for a reason, mister. I’ll thank you to sit on it the way its maker intended,’ he snapped at Rick.
The chair crashed to the floor and Rick thumped his elbows onto the desk.
‘And I’ll thank you both to put that food away. This is detention, not a social luncheon.’
Marty grinned. Luncheon? Geez, what century did this guy come from?
Mr Gunner flicked an imaginary speck off his shirt and opened the folder he carried. He withdrew two sheets of paper and placed one before each boy.
‘Now, I want these completed by the end of lunch, otherwise you’ll both be back here every day until they are.’
Rick glanced at Marty then down at the paper on the desk before him. ‘Equations? You’ve gotta be kidding. Nobody does maths in detention.’
Mr Gunner smoothed a hand over his neatly parted hair and smiled. ‘They do now, mister.’
‘But there must be twenty sums here. We have to do all of them?’ Marty said.
‘Sure do, buckaroo, and you only have –’ Mr Gunner consulted his flashy gold watch, ‘fifty-five minutes and seven seconds in which to do them.’ He leaned against the desk in front of Marty and folded his arms.
When both boys had their heads down, the teacher moved to the front of the room and sat down to eat his lunch.
The next forty minutes dragged by. Marty scrawled a line of numbers down the page. He’d get them all wrong for sure and would have to spend the last weeks of school inside this room. Maths had always been his weakest subject. Mr Gunner’s words echoed in his mind: I want these completed by the end of lunch, otherwise you’ll both be back here every day until they are .
Marty grinned. He pulled a
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