Read Online The Spoon in the Bathroom Wall by Tony Johnston - Free Book Online

her father’s worthy poem, and she held fast. Marthur closed her eyes. She tugged on the handle with all she could muster. The spoon slipped out, as though it had been stuck in butter.
    The spell was broken. The griffin sniffed Klunk’s coat. Then, as delicately as a lady tasting tea cakes at a party, it plucked a fig from Klunk’s lumpy pocket, ate the sweet fruit, and ambled out.
    Marthur stared at the beautiful spoon glittering and glowing in her hand. She was absolutely and utterly mystified. Slam-Bam Sammy (and everybody else) must have loosened it up.
    Klunk suddenly came to himself. “I HATE figs!” he snarled. “My pockets are stuffed with the rotten things! Who planted that beast bait on me? I bet it was that infernal Ferlin woman!”
    Then Dr. Klunk looked down. He saw the wondrous spoon in Marthur’s hand. His eyes bulged like an evil toad’s. He licked his chops and leered from ear to ugly ear.
    â€œWell, well, well,” he sneered. “What have we here?”

XXIV
    Dr. Klunk snatched the spoon from Marthur. He grinned grotesquely.
    â€œThanks, little missy.” And he hotfooted it for the office.
    Klunk snapped on the school loudspeaker and blurted: “Attention! Stop stuffing your faces, everybody! Get to the auditorium!”
    His voice screaked like a short circuit. Everybody moved quick. (Even the burger guys.) Maybe an earthquake was coming. Or a tidal wave. Or an invasion of frogs. In no time, all of Horace E. Bloggins School was packed into the auditorium.
    â€œI yanked the spoon from the bathroom wall! See?” Klunk blustered, waving it like a shillelagh. “I now proclaim myself—”
    â€œThe fattest liar on the face of the earth!” blared Rufus. “I saw the whole thing. Marthur pulled out that old spoon!”
    The throng gasped so deeply, it nearly sucked all the air from the room. Marthur was flabbergasted (and touched) that Rufus had spoken up for her.
    â€œHe’s spouting bunk!” shouted Klunk.
    Rufus had a reputation for prevarication. So now—heavens to mercy!—nobody believed him! It got very quiet in the auditorium. Everybody looked worried out of his mind. Holy hasenpfeffers! Klunk was going to be king. Nothing could stop him!
    Suddenly the air rang like a gong. “Feign not, blackguard! I, too, bear witness,” intoned a voice that only a Spoon of Power could possess. It was passionately angry. It was a right regal spoon and would not brook the shenanigans of the blasted buffoon.
    With a wrench, it wrested itself from Klunk’s grasp. For a moment it shivered in midair right in his face. Then—it thwacked him on the head, like cracking a great big hard-boiled egg.
    â€œOw!”
    Klunk ran.
    The archaical (but nimble) spoon gave chase.
    â€œRotter! Rogue! Rascal! Scoundrel! Scalawag! Wretch! Blackguard! Churl! Miscreant! Villain! Vile varlet! Blot! Blight! Blister! Plague! Calumnious knave!” it raged.
    Whack!
It smacked him again.
    â€œOw!”
    Whack! Whack! Whack!
    â€œOw! Ow! Ow!”
    Everybody cheered.
    â€œEnough!” cried Marthur. “Stop!”
    At once the venerable spoon obeyed.
    â€œYour wish is my command, O faire liege lady-king.”
    It slipped itself into her hand.
    â€œI am called X-Cauliflower, Your Highness,” the spoon apprised her. (
X-Q
Marthur realized.
Like on the egg carton!
)
    â€œI am called Marthur,” whispered Marthur shyly.
    She glanced up. She saw her dear father beaming at her—and crying. She saw all the kids she’d ever helped cheering and cheering. She saw Ferlin arrayed in full regalia, smiling and proudly twirling her mustache. (That is, she would have been if she’d had one. She was twirling a frizzy hank of hair.)
    Ferlin looked at Marthur with love. “Hail!” she said.
    â€œPlease, don’t do that.” Marthur blushed.
    â€œLooky there!” somebody shouted. Twelve eggs, now solid