The Candy Corn Contest (5 page)

The next morning the bell rang three times. Then it rang three times again.

Fire drill!

Richard loved fire drills.

“Get your coats quickly,” Ms. Rooney said.

Richard grabbed his sweater. He lined up behind Matthew.

“Hey, Matthew,” he whispered.

“No talking,” Ms. Rooney said. “Remember, this is a fire drill.”

The class followed Ms. Rooney out into the hall.

All the other classes were spilling out into the hall too.

Richard saw his sister, Holly. She was marching along in front of her best friend, Joanne.

Richard waved at them.

Holly made a face.

She was still mad at him because of last night.

He had drawn some clocks on the back of her homework.

By accident.

He thought it was scrap paper.

Outside it was cold. Richard put his face up to the sun to get warm. Then he watched a four-yearold across the street. She was waving a big red leaf at them.

He poked Matthew.

Matthew looked at the little girl and grinned. Then he faced front again.

Richard looked at Matthew's ears. He leaned a little closer to him.

Matthew didn't smell as much today. Maybe it was be-cause of the cold air.

4'Listen, Matthew,” he whispered. “I'm sorry about yesterday.”

Mrs. Kettle snapped her fingers at him from half a block away. “Be quiet, young man,” she called. “This is a fire drill.”

Everyone looked at Richard.

Ms. Rooney frowned.

But Matthew didn't turn around.

Maybe Matthew hadn't heard him.

As soon as they went back to the classroom, he'd tell Mat-thew he was sorry.

He thought about telling Holly he was sorry too.

No. It was a fire drill.

She'd have to wait until tonight.

The bell rang. Everyone marched inside again.

Richard made a beast face when he passed Holly in the hall.

“Brat,” she whispered.

Back in the classroom Ms. Rooney told everyone to take out note-books.

It was time to copy boardwork.

The boardwork was a story about Thanksgiving and Pilgrims and Indians.

Richard picked up his pencil.
The first Thanksgiving was held in Plymouth
, he wrote.

Matthew turned around. “I can't come to your Thanksgiving sleep-over.''

“I'm sorry,” Richard said at the same time. “I didn't mean to say—”

“I can't come to—” Matthew began again.

He looked at Matthew's face. Matthew looked funny. No, Matthew looked sad.

4'Why can't you come?” Richard said.

Matthew turned to the front. He looked back over his shoulder. “Because.”

Richard picked up his pencil. He tapped Matthew. “Did your mother say you can't come?”

Matthew didn't say anything.

Richard copied the next sentence.
The Pil-grims invited everyone
.

He waited a minute. “Matthew? Is it because I said those mean things?”

Matthew shook his head. “I'm going on vaca-tion.”

“Oh,” Richard said. He felt better. Much better. He gave Matthew a little punch. “Where are you going?”

“Plymouth,” Matthew said.

“Where the Pilgrims landed?”

Matthew nodded.

“Lucky,” Richard said. “Boy, are you lucky!”

“Yeah,” Matthew said.

Richard wrote the rest of the story. He was glad Matthew was going to an exciting place.

He was glad he didn't have to worry about Matthew com-ing to his sleep-over anymore.

He dusted off his paper. He saw that he had written
Plymouth
twice.

He didn't know anyone who had ever gone to Plymouth. He didn't even know where it was.

He leaned forward. “Matthew? Where's Ply-mouth?”

Matthew rolled his pencil on the floor. He bent over to pick it up. “Florida,” he said. “In the middle of Flor-ida.”'

“Oh,” Richard said. He stood up. It was time for a drink.

He went to the front of the room. He looked back at Mat-thew.

Matthew wasn't writing his boardwork. He was just sitting there.

Maybe he was thinking about going to Plymouth.

Richard closed the classroom door behind him. He walked to the water fountain.

He wondered why Matthew didn't look happy.

He'd be happy if he were going to Plymouth. It was almost as good as going to a sleep-over.

Today was assembly day. The fifth grade was putting on a play:
The Pilgrims Come to America
.

Richard knew all about it. His sister, Holly, was a Pilgrim mother. She was going to wear a long gray bathrobe and a white cardboard hat.

At home she said her part about a hundred times a day.

But today he wouldn't hear Holly in the assembly.

As soon as everyone said the Pledge he was going to sneak out.

He was going straight upstairs. He was going to change the number on the Candy Corn jar.

It was his last chance. Tomorrow was the last day of school before Thanksgiving.

Mr. Mancina turned off the lights. Next to him Emily was trying to read in the dark.

Richard kept his head down. He sneaked out of his seat.

Mrs. Kettle was standing at the back. “Where are you go-ing, young man?” she asked.

Richard jumped. “I have to go to the—”

“The play just started,” she said. She opened the door for him. “Why didn't you go to the bathroom before you came in here?”

Richard put his head down a little more.

“Hurry up,” she said.

He raced down the hall. He turned the corner. Then he headed up-stairs.

No one was in Room 113.

He closed the door. He tiptoed to Ms. Rooney's desk.

He picked up the jar carefully. He'd hate to drop it.

He might as well drop himself.

He laughed a little at the thought of dropping himself.

He turned the jar on its side. He looked underneath.

Matthew was right. There was a big number on the bot-tom.

278.

He tried not to think about 278.

He'd have to forget that number in a few minutes.

He took his pencil out of his pocket.

No good. The number 278 was written in ink.

He put the jar on the floor. It would be safe there.

He ran back to his desk. He pulled everything out. In the back was a pen.

He raced back to Ms. Rooney's desk.

He counted on his fingers. Not 278 anymore. Now it would be … 277 … 276 … 275.

Was that right?

He counted again. Yes. He had to change the 8 to a 5.

The classroom door opened.

Richard jumped.

“What are you doing?” Matthew asked.

“I didn't cheat,” Richard said. “Don't worry.”

Matthew walked toward his desk. “Are you look-ing at the number?”

“Just a little bit,” Richard said.

“Oh.” Matthew reached into his desk. “I came to get some of my Fluffernutter sandwich.”

“I did something terrible,” Richard said.

“Worse than cheating?” Matthew asked.

“I ate three pieces of Candy Corn.”

Matthew wiped some Fluffernutter off his mouth.

“I have to change the number,” Richard said.

“You can't do that,” Matthew said. “I think Ms. Rooney may check the fingerprints.”

Richard stared at him. “Fingerprints?”

“She'll see that the number looks different. …”

“No,” Richard said. “I'll do it so you can't tell.”

“You can't write like Ms. Rooney.” Matthew sat on a front desk. “Keep that jar away from me. I don't want to be a cheater.”

Richard shook the jar a little. Then he moved it away from Mat-thew.

Matthew was shaking his head. He looked sad.

4'Ms. Rooney may take the jar to the police. Your fingerprints will be all over it.”

Richard stepped back. “I think you're right.”

“I'm sorry,” Matthew said. “I wish you could change the number.”

He and Matthew went back down the stairs.

“I'm glad you came up to the classroom,” Rich-ard said. “I could have been in a lot of trouble.”

Matthew nodded his head.

They opened the auditorium doors and tiptoed in.

Up on the stage Holly was saying her part. She was talking so loud, she was almost yelling.

“It was a hard year in Plymouth,” she said.

Richard slid into his seat. He said the words with Holly. “It was the right thing to do. Now we have a good place to live. We have food to eat.”

Richard thought about the Candy Corn jar. He was glad he hadn't changed the number. Somehow that wouldn't have been the right thing to do.

Somebody else came on the stage. It was Ar
thur Knight in a blue suit. “Yes,” he said. “It was a hard year in Plymouth, Massachusetts. But now we will have a Thanksgiving dinner.”

Richard watched the curtain close. He said Massachusetts to him-self. “Mas-sa-chew-setts.”

He loved the sound of it on his tongue.

The class filed out of the auditorium.

“Massa-chew,” sang Richard as he marched. “Massachew-chew-chew-setts.” He tried not to think about the Candy Corn jar.

He poked Matthew in the back. “Hey. Plymouth is in Mas-sachusetts.”

Matthew raised his shoulders up in the air.

“You said it was in Florida—where Dawn Bosco's grandmother lives.”

Matthew didn't say anything. His face looked a little red. So did his ears.

Richard marched into Room 113. Maybe Matthew wasn't going to Plymouth. Maybe he had made the whole thing up.

He wondered why.

Suddenly he had a terrible feeling. Suddenly he knew why Matthew had lied.

Richard sat down in his seat. Matthew knew he didn't want him at the sleep-over.

In front of him Matthew was trying to read his rain forest book. He was still on page one.

Richard opened his own book.

If only he hadn't said those mean things to Mat-thew.

He was almost sorry he was having a sleep-over.

Today was the last day of school before Thanksgiving.

Richard took a long time walking to school. He kept thinking about the Candy Corn number.

It was the last day for the contest.

He was going to be in trouble when he didn't win.