Ms. Sue Has No Clue! (2 page)

3
Welcome to the Carnival

Over the next month, everybody got ready for the school carnival. The parents and teachers built lots of booths and games. In art class with Ms. Hannah, we made posters. After school, we went to all the stores in town and asked if they would display our artwork in their windows. The town put up a big banner across Main Street . . .

Finally, it was the day of the carnival. When I got to school with my parents and my sister, Amy, it looked like the whole town was waiting to get into the playground. I saw Ryan, Michael, Neil, Andrea, Emily, and their parents. There were lots of balloons, and music was blasting. Booths were being set up.

One table was filled with cupcakes, cookies, and brownies that people had baked. There was a little area for pony rides. The street next to the playground had been turned into a car wash.

Ms. Sue was running around with a bullhorn, making sure everybody was ready. The giant thermometer was mounted on a stage.

Finally, the gate to the playground opened, and we all rushed in. I could smell popcorn popping. There was electricity in the air!
*

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Alexia said to me as her mother climbed on the stage.

“Welcome to the Ella Mentry school carnival,” announced Ms. Sue. “Before we get started, our principal, Mr. Klutz, would like to say a few words.”

Mr. Klutz stepped up to a microphone and tapped it with his finger.

“Thank you all for coming out on this beautiful day,” he announced. “I'm sure you're going to have a wonderful time. And just to make it extra special, I'll make a deal with you. If we raise five thousand dollars today, I will . . .”

Everybody got quiet and leaned forward to hear what Mr. Klutz was going to say. He's always making deals with us. One time he said that if we read a million pages, he would turn the gym into a video game arcade. Another time he said that if we did a million math problems, he would kiss a pig on the lips. He also married a turkey after we made a really nice Thanksgiving display. That was cool.

“If you raise five thousand dollars today,” said Mr. Klutz, “I will spend a night . . . in
jail
!”

WHAT?!

Principal Klutz was willing to spend a night in jail if we raised five thousand dollars? I would pay to see
that
.

Ms. Sue walked around with a big bucket. Parents were pulling out their wallets and putting money into the bucket.

“Dad,” I asked, “do you have five thousand dollars so we can send Mr. Klutz to jail?”

“I'll contribute
one
dollar,” my dad told me, handing me a dollar bill to put in the bucket.

I walked around the carnival with my family. There was a long line of tables. Behind each one was a parent or teacher doing something to raise money. Ms. Hannah was in charge of face painting. Our lunch lady, Ms. LaGrange, was selling chocolates, summer sausages, and flavored popcorn.

There was a silent auction, where grown-ups could bid on all kinds of stuff. You could buy gift-wrapping paper at one table. At another table, they were even selling Ella Mentry School underwear!

“Great news!” Ms. Sue shouted into her bullhorn. “We have raised our first hundred dollars!”

Everybody cheered. Ms. Sue put the money into a metal box, and then she drew a line on her giant thermometer.

Our Spanish teacher, Miss Holly, had the booth next to the thermometer. She had a big glass jar filled to the top with gum balls.

“The person who guesses how many gum balls are in the jar will win thirty dollars,” Miss Holly told us. “It costs just a dollar to play.”

My mom gave Miss Holly a dollar, and I wrote my guess on a piece of paper: A HUNDRED MILLION GUM BALLS. I hope I win!

At the next table was Mr. Tony, who runs the after-school program. A sign on his table said . . .

“How does this work?” my dad asked Mr. Tony.

“Well, if you pay fifty dollars, I'll take the goat off your front lawn.”

“There's a goat on my front lawn?!” asked my dad.

“Not yet,” said Mr. Tony. “But there will be later today, after I put it there.”

“You're going to put a goat on my front lawn?!” asked my dad.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Tony told him. “If you pay fifty dollars, I
won't
put the goat on your front lawn.”

“I don't want a goat on our lawn!” my mom shouted. “They eat everything in sight and poop everywhere!”

“You'd better pay the fifty dollars, Dad,” I suggested.

My dad didn't look happy. But he pulled out his wallet and handed Mr. Tony fifty dollars.

“Just so you know,” Mr. Tony told him, “we're having a special sale today. For just forty dollars, I'll put a goat on somebody
else's
front lawn, and you get to choose which lawn I put it on.”

“That's a pretty good deal, Dad,” my sister said.

“Can we pay forty dollars to put a goat on Andrea's front lawn?” I asked.

“No!” said my mom. “Andrea's mother is my friend. I would never do a thing like that to her.”

“What's the big deal?” I asked. “Andrea's mom could just pay fifty dollars, and Mr. Tony wouldn't put the goat on
her
front lawn either. Isn't that right?”

“Exactly,” said Mr. Tony. “It's sort of like buying goat insurance.”

“Where do you keep all the goats?” my dad asked him.

“Oh, I don't have any goats,” replied Mr. Tony.

“If you don't have any goats, how can you put them on
anyone's
front lawn?” I asked.

“Hmmm, that never came up,” said Mr. Tony. “Most people just pay the money. So I don't need any goats.”

What a scam. If you ask me, Mr. Tony is full of baloney.

Ms. Sue was walking around. “We're up to two hundred dollars!” she shouted into her bullhorn. She put the money in the money box and drew a new line on her giant thermometer.

The next booth had the words
PEACE
and
LOVE
written all over it. Our crossing guard, Mr. Louie, was standing there in a tie-dyed shirt.

“Hugs for a dollar,” Mr. Louie shouted. “Kisses for two dollars. Come buy a kiss and a hug.”

“No thank you,” my mom said as we passed by.

Right next to Mr. Louie's booth was another booth with Mr. Docker, our science teacher, standing behind it. He was holding a toad in his hand, and the sign over the booth said . . .

“This is an Eastern spadefoot toad,” Mr. Docker told us. “It's a smooth-skinned toad that uses the hard spades on the hind feet to dig burrows in sand or loose dirt.”

“Very nice,” said my dad, “but I'm not paying a dollar to kiss it.”

“No, you don't understand,” said Mr. Docker. “You pay a dollar so you
don't
have to kiss it.”

“So if I pay you a dollar, I don't have to kiss the toad?” asked my dad.

“That's right,” said Mr. Docker.

“What if I kiss the toad anyway?” my dad asked.

“Then you don't have to pay a dollar.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a fair deal to me,” Dad said. And then he leaned over and kissed the toad.

Ugh, disgusting! My dad just kissed a toad! I thought I was gonna throw up.

“How about the rest of the family?” Mr. Docker asked. “Would you like to kiss the toad?”

“No thank you!” said my mom.

“Yuck! Not me!” said my sister, Amy.

“Count me out,” I said. “I'm not kissing a toad.”

“Okay, that will be three dollars, please,” said Mr. Docker.

My dad pulled out the money.

“Hey, you saved a dollar, Dad!” I told him.

At the next booth, there was a big tub of water with some watermelons in it. Our gifted and talented teacher, Ms. Coco, was behind the booth. The sign said
BOBBING FOR WATERMELONS
.

“Isn't that supposed to be bobbing for
apples
?” my mom asked Ms. Coco.

“The supermarket didn't have any apples today,” Ms. Coco said. “So I got watermelons instead.”