Read Online The Ice-cream Man by Jenny Mounfield - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jenny Mounfield
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sheet of paper out of his pack and started writing.
‘Pssst.’
Rick turned his head in Marty’s direction. Marty held the folded note out to him under the desk. Rick glanced towards the front of the room before reaching for it. A slow smile spread across his face as he read. He gave Marty a thumbs-up and put his head down.
‘Time is up,’ Mr Gunner said. He snapped his lunch box shut then moved towards the boys and snatched up their papers.
Rick got to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulder.
‘Not so fast, mister.’ Mr Gunner scanned Rick’s paper. ‘Just as I thought.’ He picked up Marty’s.
‘Looks like we three have another date tomorrow,’
he said, smiling hugely.
‘Why is that, sir?’ Marty said. ‘As you see we’ve both finished the paper.’
‘Yes, that may be so, but you’ve got every one of these equations wrong, Martin.’ Mr Gunner shook the papers triumphantly.
‘Yes, but, sir,’ Marty continued, speaking slowly.
‘You didn’t say we had to get them right, did you? You only said we had to finish them by the end of lunch.’
‘That’s right, you did, sir,’ Rick said.
Mr Gunner looked from one boy to the other, his mouth ajar. Then he looked back at the papers in his upraised hand. The hand trembled. Mr Gunner’s pockmarked face flushed crimson.
Marty didn’t dare look at Rick for fear he’d start laughing. He bit the inside of his lip and forced his face to remain impassive.
Mr Gunner seemed to be having a hard time getting his emotions under control. His hand shook so much it was a wonder he didn’t drop the papers on the floor. After several long seconds he took a deep breath and bared his teeth in what Marty figured was supposed to be a smile, but looked more like a grimace of pain. ‘Ah-ha, very clever, mister, very clever indeed. It seems you would have me there, wouldn’t it? Oh, yes indeedy.’ Mr Gunner tapped the side of his nose with an index finger and then stuffed the papers inside his folder. ‘Oh-ho, yes indeedy. Well, I can’t argue with your logic, so I suppose you are both off the hook, as it were.’
Marty gave the teacher a curt nod and pointed his chair towards the door.
‘But remember this,’ Mr Gunner continued, and Marty felt the teacher’s breath, hot on the back of his neck, ‘I will be keeping a very close eye on you two, mark my words. A very close eye.’
All in all Marty was having a good day. He’d outsmarted a teacher, not an easy feat, Alana Newton had actually flirted with him in art – either that or she really was after his science notes and everyone knew he sucked at science – and that afternoon his dad was bringing home a brand new mobile phone.
When the school day was over, he expertly wove his way through the crowd. Rick had cleared off as soon as the siren rang to get his mother some stuff at the supermarket, and Aaron had done a disappearing act. No matter, Marty would catch up with them later.
With a burst of energy he careered around a group of gum-snapping girls and through the school gates. He eyed the hazy sky, which was cloudless but for a few wisps on the horizon, as he waited to cross the road. If only it would rain, even a shower would cool things down for a while. After making sure there weren’t any cars coming out of the teachers’ car park, Marty crossed the road. As he neared the opposite curb, someone brushed past him. Irritated and ready to give the kid a mouthful, he looked up and swallowed the insult just in time. It wasn’t a kid. It was Mr Gunner, marching towards Turner Street like he had a wasps’ nest up his butt. Marty’s good mood soured.
When he spotted his father’s Ford in the driveway, Mr Gunner vanished from his mind. Marty swung through the gate, smelling rubber as his wheel connected with the brick letterbox. Flicking sweat out of his eyes with a toss of his head, he rolled into the house. ‘I hope you got one with the built-in camera,’ he called, wheeling
‘Pssst.’
Rick turned his head in Marty’s direction. Marty held the folded note out to him under the desk. Rick glanced towards the front of the room before reaching for it. A slow smile spread across his face as he read. He gave Marty a thumbs-up and put his head down.
‘Time is up,’ Mr Gunner said. He snapped his lunch box shut then moved towards the boys and snatched up their papers.
Rick got to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulder.
‘Not so fast, mister.’ Mr Gunner scanned Rick’s paper. ‘Just as I thought.’ He picked up Marty’s.
‘Looks like we three have another date tomorrow,’
he said, smiling hugely.
‘Why is that, sir?’ Marty said. ‘As you see we’ve both finished the paper.’
‘Yes, that may be so, but you’ve got every one of these equations wrong, Martin.’ Mr Gunner shook the papers triumphantly.
‘Yes, but, sir,’ Marty continued, speaking slowly.
‘You didn’t say we had to get them right, did you? You only said we had to finish them by the end of lunch.’
‘That’s right, you did, sir,’ Rick said.
Mr Gunner looked from one boy to the other, his mouth ajar. Then he looked back at the papers in his upraised hand. The hand trembled. Mr Gunner’s pockmarked face flushed crimson.
Marty didn’t dare look at Rick for fear he’d start laughing. He bit the inside of his lip and forced his face to remain impassive.
Mr Gunner seemed to be having a hard time getting his emotions under control. His hand shook so much it was a wonder he didn’t drop the papers on the floor. After several long seconds he took a deep breath and bared his teeth in what Marty figured was supposed to be a smile, but looked more like a grimace of pain. ‘Ah-ha, very clever, mister, very clever indeed. It seems you would have me there, wouldn’t it? Oh, yes indeedy.’ Mr Gunner tapped the side of his nose with an index finger and then stuffed the papers inside his folder. ‘Oh-ho, yes indeedy. Well, I can’t argue with your logic, so I suppose you are both off the hook, as it were.’
Marty gave the teacher a curt nod and pointed his chair towards the door.
‘But remember this,’ Mr Gunner continued, and Marty felt the teacher’s breath, hot on the back of his neck, ‘I will be keeping a very close eye on you two, mark my words. A very close eye.’
All in all Marty was having a good day. He’d outsmarted a teacher, not an easy feat, Alana Newton had actually flirted with him in art – either that or she really was after his science notes and everyone knew he sucked at science – and that afternoon his dad was bringing home a brand new mobile phone.
When the school day was over, he expertly wove his way through the crowd. Rick had cleared off as soon as the siren rang to get his mother some stuff at the supermarket, and Aaron had done a disappearing act. No matter, Marty would catch up with them later.
With a burst of energy he careered around a group of gum-snapping girls and through the school gates. He eyed the hazy sky, which was cloudless but for a few wisps on the horizon, as he waited to cross the road. If only it would rain, even a shower would cool things down for a while. After making sure there weren’t any cars coming out of the teachers’ car park, Marty crossed the road. As he neared the opposite curb, someone brushed past him. Irritated and ready to give the kid a mouthful, he looked up and swallowed the insult just in time. It wasn’t a kid. It was Mr Gunner, marching towards Turner Street like he had a wasps’ nest up his butt. Marty’s good mood soured.
When he spotted his father’s Ford in the driveway, Mr Gunner vanished from his mind. Marty swung through the gate, smelling rubber as his wheel connected with the brick letterbox. Flicking sweat out of his eyes with a toss of his head, he rolled into the house. ‘I hope you got one with the built-in camera,’ he called, wheeling
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