Mr. Jack Is a Maniac! (3 page)

“Who wants to be door closer for the day?” asked Mr. Klutz as we all walked back inside the school.

“Me! Me! I do!” we all shouted.

Everybody wanted to be door closer for the day. That's an important job, because you have to be sure to close the door. If the door closer for the day doesn't close the door, a wild animal might wander into the school. So being door closer is way more important than being line leader or snack passer outer.

I always wanted to be door closer for the day. But Mr. Klutz never picks me. He always picks one of the other kids.

“A.J., you are the door closer for the day,” Mr. Klutz said.

“Yes! I rule!”

After I closed the door, I ran up ahead so I could talk to Mr. Jack.

“Are you going to teach us how to beat people up?” I asked him.

“Up, down, and sideways, baby!” he replied.

This was gonna be
cool
!

Mr. Jack led everybody into the gym. I stood between Ryan and Michael. We were all excited. We'd seen a lot of karate movies, and a lot of wrestling on TV. Finally we would get to kick some butt like those guys.

“Do we get to kick butt now?” I asked Mr. Jack.

“First, we need to warm up with stretching exercises,” Mr. Jack told us. “I don't want anyone to get hurt.”

That made sense, I guess.

“Everybody reach up and touch the sky,” Mr. Jack told us.

We all reached up and touched the sky.
*
Then we touched our toes. Then we leaned backward as far as we could go. Then we got down on the floor and twisted and turned and pulled every part of our bodies for a million hundred minutes. Then we did jumping jacks.

I thought I was gonna die! This was the worst thing to happen since TV Turnoff Week.

“Okay, everybody sit on the floor ‘crisscross applesauce,'” Mr. Jack told us.

Grown-ups used to tell us to sit like a pretzel. But that didn't make any sense, because pretzels don't sit. After that, they told us to sit “crisscross applesauce.” Applesauce doesn't sit either. But one time I sat
in
some applesauce in the vomitorium and got it all over my pants. It was gross.

“Let us close our eyes,” Mr. Jack told us.

What? How can I kick butt with my eyes closed?

“Take a deep breath,” Mr. Jack said softly. “Now exhale. Do that again. Deep breath . . . exhale.”

“Excuse me,” I said. “What does this have to do with kicking butt?”

“Shhhhh,”
Mr. Jack said. “A closed mouth gathers no feet.”

“Huh? What does
that
mean?”

“It means keep quiet and you won't say anything dumb, Arlo,” Andrea said. “It's a wise saying.”

It didn't sound very wise to me.

“Hush,” said Mr. Jack. “First you must learn how to breathe.”

“I already know how to breathe,” I said. “If I didn't know how to breathe, I'd be dead.”

“Shhhhh,”
Mr. Jack said. “Sit quietly. Can you hear your heart beating?”

I listened for my heartbeat. The only thing I could hear was the ceiling fan.

“Keep your eyes closed. Stare at the inside of your eyelids,” Mr. Jack told us.

I tried to stare at the inside of my eyelids, but I couldn't see anything. My eyelids had nothing on them. I wondered if everybody else was seeing cool stuff on the inside of their eyelids. I opened my eyes for a second to look, but then I couldn't see my eyelids anymore.

Somebody should tell Mr. Jack that the inside of our eyelids is really boring. They should put TV sets in there. Then you could watch TV while you're sleeping. That would be cool.

“Think happy things,” Mr. Jack said. “Allow your stress and bad feelings to escape. Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.”

Wow, Mr. Jack was like Yoda from
Star Wars
, but taller and with muscles.

“Become one with the universe,” Mr. Jack told us. “The less you have, the more there is to get.”

Huh? That didn't make any sense at all.

“Feel the energy within you,” said Mr. Jack. “It's easier to wear slippers than to cover the earth with carpet.”

What?

“Let your tension melt away,” said Mr. Jack. “If you hit your toe with a hammer first thing in the morning, nothing worse can happen to you for the rest of the day.”

Wait.
What?
I was starting to think that Mr. Jack was crazy.

“Repeat after me,” he said. “I ying gah.”

WHAT?!

“I ying gah,” we all said, even though it made no sense at all.

“Again. I ying gah.”

“I ying gah . . . I ying gah . . . I ying gah . . . I ying gah . . .”

We had to say that dumb
I ying gah
thing about a million hundred times. It was the most boring thing in the history of the world.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Mr. Jack said.

Finally, it was over. What a relief!

Mr. Jack said he would be working with small groups, so our class got to stay in the gym while everybody else went to their classrooms.

“Does everyone feel relaxed now?” Mr. Jack asked us.

“Yes!” said all the girls.

“No!” said all the boys.

“We don't want to learn
that
stuff,” Ryan told Mr. Jack. “We want to learn how to kick butt.”

“Yeah, Mr. Klutz didn't bring you here to teach us how to breathe and stare at our eyelids,” said Alexia. “I thought you were supposed to show us how to defend ourselves in case of emergency.”

“That's exactly what we're going to do,” Mr. Jack replied. “Okay. Boys on one side of the gym, girls on the other.”

All right! Finally it was butt-kicking time!

Michael lined up across from Alexia.

Ryan lined up across from Emily.

Neil lined up across from Annette.

And I lined up across from . . . Andrea!

Yes!
Finally! After all these years of being annoyed by Andrea, I would get to show her who's boss. This was going to be the greatest day of my life.

“Oooooh!” Ryan said. “A.J. lined up across from Andrea. They must be in love!”

“When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

I looked across the gym at Andrea. She was giving me the evil eye. I put on my meanest mean face. Finally I would get back at her for all the times she made fun of me. All the times she said mean things to me. All the times she did something better than me. Revenge would be
sweet
.

“You're going
down
!” I shouted, pointing at Andrea.

“I don't
think
so, Arlo,” Andrea replied.

Mr. Jack went to the room where all the sports equipment is stored. He came out rolling a big cart. It was full of helmets, kneepads, elbow pads, and every other kind of pads you can think of.

“Do you have any iPads?” I asked.

“Do we really have to put all this stuff on?” asked Neil the nude kid.

“Yes,” Mr. Jack replied. “We don't want anyone to get hurt.”

“Why not?” I asked. “Isn't the whole point of fighting to hurt somebody?”

“We're not fighting,” Mr. Jack told me. “We're learning how to defend ourselves. There's a difference. Wise is the man who knows when he runs out of invisible ink.”

What?!
Mr. Jack sure knew a lot of weird wise sayings.

We all put on helmets and pads. After that, Mr. Jack took out a giant roll of plastic bubble wrap and he made us wrap ourselves up in it. He sealed it with duct tape.

I looked like a giant marshmallow. It would have been embarrassing, but
everybody
looked like giant marshmallows, so it was okay.
*
Mr. Jack stuck a name tag on each of us.

“Okay, A.J.,” he said. “When I count to three, I want you to attack Andrea.”

“With pleasure!” I said.

“And Andrea,” said Mr. Jack, “I want you to do everything you can to defend yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrea said. “I will!”

“One . . . two . . .
three
!”

I came charging toward Andrea at full speed. My plan was to tackle her like we do in Pee Wee football. But at the last instant, Andrea stepped aside, grabbed my legs, and flipped me over. I went flying.

“Eeee-yah!”
Andrea screamed.

I don't know exactly what happened next, but when it was over, I was lying on the floor. All the girls were cheering and clapping. All the boys were giggling.

Okay, Andrea was lucky that time. Anybody can get lucky once in her life.

I got to my feet and came charging at Andrea again. This time, she bent over at the last second, pulled my arm, twisted it, and elbowed me in the stomach. Once again, I was on the floor.

“Eeee-yah!”
Andrea screamed.

Okay, I must have slipped that time. It happens. I struggled to my feet and came charging at Andrea again. This time, I was careful not to let her grab me with her hands.

“Eeee-yah!”

Andrea spun around on one foot. The next thing I knew, her other foot was flying at my head. I tried to duck, but her foot caught me in the helmet and sent me reeling backward. I landed on the floor next to the bleachers.

“Nicely done, Andrea!” said Mr. Jack, clapping his hands. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I take karate classes after school,” Andrea said.

Now
she tells me.

I should have known. Andrea takes classes in
everything
after school. If they gave classes in how to clip your toenails, she would take that class so she could get better at it.

“It looks like the shoe is on the other foot, Arlo,” Andrea said, sneering at me.

Huh? What did shoes have to do with anything? I looked down at my feet to make sure I hadn't put my shoes on backward. That's when Andrea came charging at me. I put my hands up at the last second to protect my face, but she took a flying leap, and the two of us landed in a heap on the floor, with Andrea sitting on top of me. She was holding her fists up in the air and all the girls were cheering.

“Oooooh!” Ryan said. “Andrea just totally kicked A.J.'s butt! They must be in love!”

“When are you gonna get married?” asked Michael.

If those guys weren't my best friends, I would hate them.

After that, we had to go back to class so the other grades could get their turn with Mr. Jack. My teacher, Mr. Granite, started talking about fractions and stuff, but I couldn't pay attention. I kept thinking about what had happened in the gym.

Not only did a girl kick my butt, but the girl was
Andrea
. And not only did she kick my butt, but she kicked my butt with the
whole class
watching. The best day of my life had turned into the worst day of my life.

Sitting in class, I felt like everybody was looking at me and whispering. I thought I was gonna die. I wanted to run away to Antarctica and live with the penguins. Penguins don't attack each other. Penguins are nice.