Justine McKeen, Pooper Scooper (2 page)

“Let's get to the library before the bell rings,” Justine said. “Mrs. Reynolds can help us with our research.”

“Just google it,” Jimmy Blatzo said.

“You can't believe everything you google.”

“I don't even know where the library is,” he said.

“You spell your name B-L-A-T-Z-O, right?”

Justine said. “I won't break my promise about telling anyone about the dog poop on your butt. But I can write a note. I don't want to spell your name wrong.”

Jimmy Blatzo groaned as loud as he did when she hit him in the stomach with the football.

“Follow me,” she said. When they reached the library, it was locked and dark inside.

“Weird,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “Mrs. Reynolds is always here early. Sometimes she makes me tea. She always helps me find great books. She knows exactly what I like to read.”

“Ha!” Justine said. “I knew you knew where the library was. Let me guess, your job is to scare kids, not love books?”

Two girls walked past. Jimmy Blatzo raised his arms and growled. They giggled.

“Last week in the library, those two girls made me move out of the comfy reading chair so they could use it,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “They made me read them a story.”

Justine pointed at the sign on the window beside the door. It said,
Until further notice, students must be
with a teacher when they visit the library.

Jimmy Blatzo looked at Justine. “I see a problem here.”

“You're afraid I'll try to do something about this?” Justine said.

“No,” he said. “There really is a problem. The library is closed. We need to do something about this.”

“You're right,” Justine said. “Some things are more important than dog poop.”

Chapter Three

Mrs. Reynolds lived in a brown house near the school. Her front yard had a lot of flowers. After school, Justine and Jimmy Blatzo knocked on her door. Mrs. Reynolds invited them inside. She made tea and served carrot cake with white icing. The three of them sat in her front room. There were books on the tables, on the chairs, on the floor and on the bookshelves.

“Do you like the new ebook readers?” Mrs. Reynolds asked Justine and Jimmy Blatzo.

“I love my ebook reader,” Justine said. “But I love treebooks too.”

“Treebooks?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

“Paper books. Made from trees.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Reynolds said with a smile. “
Tree
books.”

“I love that ebooks use less paper, which means cutting fewer trees.”

Every student in Justine's school had been given an ebook reader to keep until the end of the school year. It was going to save the school a lot of money because ebooks are cheaper than classroom textbooks.

“She
is
the Queen of Green,” Blatzo said, sipping his tea. “You probably don't like ebooks, do you, Mrs. Reynolds?”

“I LOVE them,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Before ebooks, when I read a chapter from
Charlotte's Web
to a class, the students would all want to borrow it. But I only had one or two copies to lend. Now, when kids get excited about a story, all of them can have it as an ebook.”

“Except you're not in the library anymore,” Justine said. “That's why we are here. To find out why you aren't in the library.”

“To save money,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “If the school cuts down on my time in the library, they don't have to pay me as much.”

“I'm going to talk to our principal, Ms. Booth,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “That's just wrong!”

“Ms. Booth is as sad as I am,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “It wasn't her decision. It was the superintendent of all the schools, Mr. Ripley. The school board decided if the students all have ebook readers, librarians aren't needed fulltime.”

“That is crazy,” Justine said. “Who is going to tell us about great stories? Who is going to help us with our research?”

“I wish there was something I could do,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “But Mr. Ripley doesn't need to listen to me or the principal.”

“Who could make him change his mind?” Justine asked.

“Parents,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “But I think most of them believe schools don't need librarians full-time either.”

“Oh no!” Jimmy Blatzo said. “We have another problem here.”

“What?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.

Blatzo pointed at Justine. “She's got that look in her eyes. I only see it when she is mad and planning to do something about it.”

Chapter Four

Mr. Ripley looked up from a huge desk in the middle of a huge office with a huge window that overlooked Central Park. He wore a blue suit, a blue shirt and a blue tie. He was partly bald and had a mustache. The mustache wasn't dark blue. It was black with gray tips.

Justine set down her backpack and sat across from him.

“I'm Justine McKeen,” Justine said. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You're a student?” Mr. Ripley asked.

“Yes, and thank you for seeing me,” Justine said. She pointed out the window. “You have a nice view of Central Park.”

“You're a student?” Mr. Ripley asked again. “In your email you said you were part of a large group of people worried about school libraries.”

“Yes, a very large group,” Justine said. “Do you have any idea how many students there are at my school?”

“Of course I do,” Mr. Ripley said. “That's my job.”

“Mrs. Reynolds isn't in our library anymore. The students hope you will change this. And as you know, we are a very large group. And we are a very large
worried
group.”

“Perhaps you should send your mom or dad here to speak with me.”

“I live with my Grammy,” Justine said. “She said if I came by myself, I would learn a good lesson. If that means I've learned you don't care about what students think, then that
is
a good lesson. I plan to write an article about it in my school paper. All the other students should learn this lesson too. And they can tell their parents about it.”

Justine bent down. She took her digital camera out of her backpack. “When I submit the article, should I use the photo of you that's on the school district's website? Or should I take a new one?” Justine asked.

“If you think you can scare me with an article,” Mr. Ripley said, “you are wrong.”

“Did I say it was for my school paper?” Justine asked. “I meant the town paper. I know the reporter there. She wrote an article about the greenhouse our class built in the parking lot of Ice-Cream Heaven.”

Mr. Ripley snapped his fingers. “That's right. You're that girl. The Queen of Green. I've heard about the trouble you cause.”

“I don't want to cause trouble,” Justine said. “I just want to talk to you about Mrs. Reynolds. We miss her.”

“Goodbye and good luck with your article,” Mr. Ripley said.

Chapter Five

Mr. Ripley stepped outside the school district's building.

“Hi, Mr. Ripley,” Justine said. She pulled out her camera. “Could I record an interview with you on video?”

“No,” he said. “If you want to talk, put that away.”

She slipped it back into her backpack.

He looked at his watch. “Have you been waiting here since you left my office?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I had my ebook reader and a good story to read while I waited. By the way, thank you for the ebook reader. I heard it was your idea to make sure all the students were given one.”

Mr. Ripley nodded. “Instead of buying textbooks, we can use ebooks and save money. The savings will pay for the ebook readers and give schools extra money.”

“And it's good for the environment,” Justine said. “Ebooks save treebooks, right?”

“I have to go home,” Mr. Ripley said. “Goodbye.”

“I am happy to walk with you to your car,” Justine said.

“I'm walking home. I live across from the park,” Mr. Ripley said.

“That is even better,” Justine said. “Maybe you will have time to answer something. Why do you need to cut back on the time Mrs. Reynolds spends in the library? If ebooks save you money, you should be able to pay her to be there more often.”

“I have to worry about a school's entire budget,” Mr. Ripley said. He started walking across the park. “I can use the money saved here for somewhere else. Many school gyms need new gear.” Mr. Ripley stopped. “And let's face it, we don't need libraries as much. Most students jump on their smartphones to do their research.”

“Do you also think we don't need coaches in gyms?” Justine asked.

“I never said that. Ever. And don't tell parents I said something like that. The phone calls I would get.”

“I agree,” Justine said. “We need gym teachers to show us how to use the gear. We need Mrs. Reynolds to help us with our research. The Internet doesn't teach us that.”

Mr. Ripley started walking fast. “If we ever pulled coaches from gyms, the parents would be very mad. But they understand we have to pull librarians out of libraries. There isn't enough money. That's all I'm going to say. Now it's time for you to leave me alone. Goodbye.”