Philip Gets Even (9781597050807) (6 page)

“Go now. And I’m not going to wait for your
parents to call me. I’ll call them.”

Waiting for their moms to arrive was like
waiting for a big rock to fall on their heads. They didn’t talk.
They just sat. Emery’s mom showed up first. Philip’s mom arrived
fifteen minutes later. After brief conversations with Mr. Greif,
the two moms took their boys home. It seemed the longest, worst day
of Philip’s life.

Later that night Philip tried to explain that
he’d done his composition but he’d found M & Ms in his desk and
that’s why the composition was missing. His mother said he wasn’t
making any sense. His father said the whole story sounded
ridiculous and that he should get upstairs right away and write
that composition and show it to him as soon as he finished.

Philip went up to his bedroom. Compositions,
M & Ms, cupcakes, locked in a closet. His story did sound
ridiculous, Philip knew. And he knew that Johnny Visco wasn’t
finished with him and Emery yet. His life was a disaster and now he
was suspended from school. How could he and Emery keep going to
school if Johnny Visco was going to keep after them? This was about
the most serious problem Philip had ever had.

When Philip and Emery reached school Thursday
morning, after a grim and lonely day at home, they went right to
Mr. Greif’s office and delivered their compositions. They stood
quietly through his lecture about proper behavior and his “fervent
wish” that nothing like this would ever happen again.

As they left the principal’s office, Emery
grumbled, “Johnny Visco’s not going to let nothing like this ever
happen again. He’s going to make it happen. How did he know to
steal our compositions?”

“Mr. Greif must have made him do the same
thing when he stuffed the toilet paper,” Philip guessed, and he and
Emery went back outside to line up with their class.

Nothing bad happened that day after their
visit to the principal. No M & Ms showed up in their desks, and
they didn’t see Johnny Visco all day, even at lunch.

As Philip and Emery walked home from school,
Emery said, “He didn’t bother us today. Maybe he’s finished with
us.”

Philip shook his head. “Joey said he was
absent. That’s why we didn’t see him.” Joey was a sixth grade
neighbor of Philip’s.

“I hope he’s got chicken pox or
something.”

“Yeah, or maybe he moved far away.”

Emery nodded glumly. “I hope Alaska.”

The boys hadn’t seen Mr. Conway since the art
show, so they decided to pay him a visit on the way home. Philip
pushed the doorbell button, and the boys heard the loud ringing
inside the house. In a moment Mr. Conway appeared, fiddling with
his hearing aid.

“Dang thing,” he mumbled. “Get in there,
stupid.”

Philip and Emery looked at Mr. Conway in
distress.
Not him, too,
they both thought.

“No, no, not you,” Mr. Conway said. “The
hearing aid. What’s new with you?”

Philip and Emery took their places on the
sofa and talked and talked about Johnny Visco locking them in a
closet on a forbidden floor and then stealing their compositions
when the class was out of the room at gym. And about being
suspended.

“Suspended? It’s marked on your record cards?
Why that low-down...
young
buzzard. He was absent today, eh?
Maybe he’s home with a guilty conscience. Him and his M &
Ms.”

“No,” said Philip. “He doesn’t have any
conscience. Not Johnny Visco.”

“He probably stayed home to plan more things
to do to us,” said Emery.

“Did you tell this principal of yours that
little Johnny boy was the cause of all the problems?”

“Well, no,” said Philip. “We tried, but M
& Ms keep showing up in the story and it sounds stupid.”

“And if he found out we told on him,” said
Emery, “he’d probably just smash us into mush.”

“I don’t like this, boys. I don’t like it one
bit. I’m getting pretty mad about this Johnny Visco fellow. Come
with me.”

Mr. Conway got to his feet and shuffled to
the staircase. “We won’t take this lying down, boys. Ready?”

“For what?” said Philip.

“Trust me,” said Mr. Conway and he thrust his
right arm forward in a stabbing motion just as he did the last
time. “Let’s go get ’em!” Then slowly, putting both feet on each
step and holding tightly to the railing, he crept up the
stairs.

“Charge,” said Philip, rolling his eyes.

“Yahoo,” said Emery softly, and the boys
followed the old man to the second floor.

Mr. Conway led them into his art studio. He
pointed at his paintings of superheroes and said, “Boys, none of
these fellows would take this lying down. They’d fight injustice.
They’d right this wrong. They’d teach this Johnny Visco a lesson
he’d never forget. And that’s just what we’re going to do. Get you
suspended, eh? Call me an old buzzard, will he?”

“Now wait a minute,” said Emery.

“We can’t do anything to Johnny Visco,” said
Philip, afraid Mr. Conway would only make things worse.

“No, no. Don’t argue with me. You can’t go to
school every day afraid of Johnny Visco and his M & Ms, can
you?”

“Yes, we can. It’s easy,” said Emery.

“Yeah, we’re doing that already,” said
Philip.

Mr. Conway raised his hand and shook his
head, rejecting all argument.

“Sit. Sit.” He indicated two wooden chairs
and sat down in a third one. “Let’s think. We have to teach this
Johnny Visco a lesson. A lesson so memorable that he leaves you
alone forever. I’m going to enjoy this. Let the old buzzard think.”
Mr. Conway gave a chuckle and rubbed his hands together so fast
that to Philip he looked like a giant fly.

Philip and Emery looked at each other and
shook their heads slowly.

“Stop that!” said Mr. Conway. “No head
shaking. No arguments. A plan. Concentrate. Call on all these brave
fellows that surround us for inspiration. We will take care of this
Johnny Visco. We three will be great champions of justice. We will
fight for truth, justice and the American way. Now be quiet and
think.”

And the art studio grew silent.

~ * ~

“I thought he was dead or something, didn’t
you?” asked Philip.

“Fifteen minutes of just sitting there. And
he didn’t get an idea, anyway,” Emery said.

“Did you want him to?”

“No, no,” Emery answered quickly. “He doesn’t
know Johnny Visco like we do.”

The mention of
that
name always ended
conversation, and in a few minutes the boys said goodbye and
parted.

The next morning around ten-thirty, though,
they were shocked when an office monitor brought a note to their
classroom and Ms. Louis called them up to her desk.

“Mr. Greif would like to see the two of you,”
she said.

“What for?” said Emery.

“I don’t know, boys. Go and see.”

A few moments later the secretary showed the
boys into Mr. Greif’s office.

“Sit down, gentlemen,” he said, indicating
chairs around a long, rectangular wooden table. Mr. Greif joined
them there.

Philip’s stomach fell to the floor when Mr.
Greif said, “Do you two boys know a Mr. Conway?”

Philip heard Emery moan. He nodded.

“He called me this morning and said that
Johnny Visco has it in for you because of what happened at the mall
and that he’s the cause of all that’s been going on with you two.
Is that true?”

Philip looked at Emery. Emery looked at
Philip. Finally, Philip said, “I think he’s real mad about us
eating his M & Ms.”

Mr. Greif thought a moment. “Well, I’m going
to have Ms. Trinetti sit the three of you down together and get
this ironed out. I don’t want anyone in our school having a problem
with anyone else in our school.”

Philip looked at the principal. “You mean we
have to sit with Johnny Visco?”

“And Ms. Trinetti. I’ve already spoken with
her and she thinks it’s good idea.”

Philip and Emery were speechless.
What had
Mr. Conway done?
Philip thought. Now Johnny Visco would know
they had told the principal about him and that would only make him
meaner.

“So after you eat lunch, wait for Ms.
Trinetti. She’ll pick you up and bring you up here. Go on back to
class now.”

The boys left the office dazed.

“Want to go home?” said Emery. “Let’s be sick
and go home. Let’s faint on the stairs and make them send us home.
I want to go home,” he wailed.

“Mr. Greif won’t believe that. Maybe we can
make ourselves throw up at lunch. Then they’d have to send us
home.”

They turned the corner toward their classroom
and bumped into Ms. Trinetti.

“Oh, Pablo and Picasso, together as usual,
eh? Well, I’ll see you right after lunch, remember. I’m just on my
way to Johnny Visco’s class to make sure he shows up. I’ll meet all
of you in the lunchroom.” And she continued on.

“Pablo and Picasso? I think I really will
faint. I want to go home,” said Emery quietly as they went back
into their classroom and took their seats.

Lunchtime came way too quickly, and Emery and
Philip sat nibbling their sandwiches, hoping they could make them
last for the whole lunch hour. But when Ms. Trinetti came up to
them, Johnny Visco at her side, and said, “Let’s go, boys,” they
followed her to the second floor and the principal’s office.

Ms. Trinetti sat the three boys at the same
long, wooden table the principal had used that morning with Philip
and Emery. When Philip saw where Johnny Visco sat, he pulled Emery
to the far end of the table. Ms. Trinetti looked at them.

“Would you two like to join us in this
county?” she said.

Philip and Emery stared at her.

“Down here, please,” and she indicated two
seats opposite Johnny Visco. She pulled out a chair and sat at the
head of the table, Johnny Visco on her right, Philip and Emery in
their new seats to her left.

“Mr. Greif wanted me to talk to the three of
you. About sportsmanship. Now, Johnny, what happened at the art
gallery was an accident. You understand that, don’t you?”

Johnny Visco looked at Philip and then he
looked at Emery. He nodded and smiled.

“Now, Philip and Emery are concerned that
you’re carrying a grudge. That’s not true, is it?”

Johnny Visco looked at Philip and then he
looked at Emery. He shook his head and smiled. Philip thought that
Johnny Visco looked even meaner when he smiled.

“Good,” Ms. Trinetti smiled. “Now, I’ve
decided on having our own art show—just the pieces that were
submitted from our school to the mall show—next Friday. Everyone
will bring his art next Thursday, and we’ll set things up on stage
in the auditorium. Then the entire school will get to appreciate
everyone’s hard work, and I hope that will make up for everyone’s
disappointment over the first art show.”

Johnny Visco spoke. “What about the ones that
won the contest at the mall? Aren’t they special?”

Ms. Trinetti gave a weary nod. “All art is
special, Johnny. Let’s just forget about the mall show. Mr. Greif
and I will choose a few of the art works for special
recognition.”

Johnny gave a satisfied smile. “What’ll the
winners get?”

Ms. Trinetti gave a long sigh. “A nice,
framed certificate. Possibly the neighborhood newspaper will take a
picture or two.”

Philip saw Johnny Visco’s eyes light up. “The
newspaper?” he said.

“Yes, I’ve spoken with them. Now, I want the
three of you to shake hands, and we’ll put an end to this
misunderstanding. Stand up and shake hands.”

Philip and Emery stood. Emery reached his
hand out to Philip.

“Emery,” said Ms. Trinetti, giving another
long sigh, “not with Philip. With Johnny. Go on. Both of you.”

Emery and Philip extended their hands slowly
across the table, and Johnny Visco squeezed one and then the
other.

Philip thought he squeezed way too tight.

“Now go back outside and play until lunch is
over.”

Johnny Visco walked out of the room, and
Philip and Emery took their time putting the chairs back to give
him a chance to get far away. When they entered the staircase,
though, there he was, leaning against the wall.

He straightened himself and stood in front of
them. “You clucks and that old buzzard ruined my art the first
time, and I’m not finished with you. I hear you got suspended and
didn’t like it. Well, I’m going to get you suspended again. And I’m
going to make sure this time that it’s
your
art that doesn’t
get a chance to win. I’ll be the one in the newspaper, not
you.”

“Come on, Emery.” Philip led Emery around
Johnny Visco, who gave him a shove with his shoulder when he went
by. Philip bumped into Emery and they both staggered down a few
steps as they hurried away.

~ * ~

“Now what?” said Emery as he and Philip
walked home after school.

“I don’t know,” Philip shrugged. “Maybe Mr.
Conway was right. Maybe we should try to get
him
first.”

“Oh, sure. Like we can. Mr. Conway tried to
get him and all he did was get
us
in trouble instead. Mr.
Greif and Ms. Trinetti lecturing us on the same day. That was
fun.”

“We’ll just have to be careful,” said Philip.
“At least it’s Friday and we don’t have to worry about school or
Johnny Visco for two days. Want to come over my house later?”

Emery said that he did and the two boys spent
a peaceful weekend.

~ * ~

But first thing Monday morning Philip and
Emery were astonished to find more M & Ms in their desks. Then
Philip found some pencils he didn’t recognize. Then a notebook that
wasn’t his. Two strange pencil cases were stuffed into the back
corner of the desk. And there was a quarter that certainly wasn’t
his. He looked at Emery.