Fabulous Five 012 - Katie's Dating Tips (3 page)

As Katie made her way to English class, Clarence Marshall
rushed up behind her in the hall. "Hey, Shannon. Guess what I saw during
lunch period. Your mother heading into the teachers' lounge with old man
Newkirk. What a jerk. Hey! That rhymes. New KIRK! Whata JERK! New
KIRK!
Whata
JERK!
"

Clarence plunged on through the crowd, ignoring her
drop-dead look and strutting in time with his new rhyme, which he continued to
chant until he was out of sight. She knew her face must be red. It was as hot
as fire. How dare Clarence make fun of Mr. Newkirk's walking with her mother?
Talk about a jerk! she thought angrily.

The good news, she told herself, was that Mr. Newkirk was
keeping his promise to befriend Willie while she wasn't in class. They probably
even had lunch together. So what if Clarence had laughed. Once this week was
over, nobody would see them together anyway. Certainly Clarence Marshall wouldn't.
She giggled at the absurd image of him at the Natural History Museum with his
hair combed and dressed in a suit and tie. She could visualize him gazing
raptly at the exhibit of Ramses the Great and then turning to Willie and Mr.
Newkirk, who just happened to be standing beside him, to comment on how well
preserved the artifacts were.

"What's so funny?" asked Beth.

The two had reached the English classroom at exactly the
same time, and they stopped for a moment outside the door.

"It's a long story," said Katie. "I'll tell
you later. Right now I'm too nervous about Mom teaching this class. Let's go on
in."

The room was crowded since two seventh-grade English classes
had been grouped together for Willie's seminar, but Katie followed Beth into
the classroom and was lucky enough to find her usual seat in the second row.

"Good luck," whispered Beth, giving Katie a
thumbs-up sign and then going on to take a seat.

Most kids were already getting settled. Mona Vaughn and Matt
Zeboski walked in holding hands. Shawnie Pendergast zipped in, looking as if
she thought she might be late, and Christie and Tony were the last two to come
through the door and find seats in the back of the room before the last bell
rang.

Finally Miss Dickinson came in, leading Willie to the front
of the room. Katie could feel her palms getting sweaty and heat rising around
her face. At least half the class had turned to look at her. Some were smiling.
A few were giggling.

Oh, please, Katie prayed silently, let everything go okay.

"Good afternoon, class," Miss Dickinson began. As
usual, she was wearing her long brown hair swept up in an old-fashioned pouf
with a tiny bun on top, and her clothes were old-fashioned, too. She always
dressed that way, looking like a character out of one of her literature books.
Katie was glad her mother had agreed to wear the bright teal jumper and
contrasting blouse. She definitely looked more
with it.

"As you know," Miss Dickinson was saying, "we
have a very special privilege this week. Our guest is Ms. Wilma Shannon, who
will be teaching you some fascinating things about writing and about being a
professional writer."

The class applauded politely. Katie thought she had seen her
mother grimace slightly when Miss Dickinson called her Wilma instead of Willie,
and she wondered for the zillionth time if her mother was as terrified at this
moment as she herself felt. At least Miss Dickinson hadn't pointed out Katie as
Willie's daughter, Katie thought with relief.

After a few more introductory remarks, Miss Dickinson took a
seat in the back of the room, leaving Willie alone in front of the class.

Willie surveyed the students silently for a moment, and
Katie counted her own pulse beats as they pounded in her ears.

"The first thing I want to say is that all writing
doesn't have to be boring," Willie began, smiling.

All around the room kids grinned knowingly at each other. A
few even gave her more applause.

"I'm going to show you that when you're accomplishing
something that's important to
you,
writing can even be fun."

"That'll be the day," Joel Murphy whispered over
Katie's left shoulder.

"The first thing I want you to do, class," said
Willie, "is to begin thinking about things you believe need changing at
this school."

Hands shot up all over the room, and Willie pointed to Steve
Hernandez, who sat in the front row. "Will you say your name as well as
your complaint?" asked Willie.

"Steve Hernandez. The stairways are too crowded between
classes," he offered.

"Thanks, Steve," said Willie. "Now what do
you think should be done about it?"

Steve shrugged and looked embarrassed, but behind him Derek
Travelstead waved his hand pleadingly.

"Okay," said Willie, pointing to Derek.

"Derek Travelstead. I think the two stairways should be
made one-way with the front stairs the
up
stairs and the back ones the
down
stairs."

"But what about changing classes?" blurted out
Shawnie. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but Willie nodded for her to
continue.

"I'm Shawnie Pendergast, but you know that," she
said with a giggle. Willie smiled, and Shawnie continued. "If we have to
run back and forth between the front and the back of the building to use the
stairs, we'll never be able to change classes in a mere five minutes."

"That's true," said Willie. "Do you have a
suggestion for fixing that?"

"Well . . ." Shawnie bit her lower lip while she
thought. All around the room hands were flying into the air. "I know,"
she said quickly. "The time between classes should be longer. Maybe six or
seven minutes instead of five."

"Good," said Willie. "Who has something else
to talk about?"

Katie was starting to relax over the smooth way the class
was going until she glanced around to see whom her mother was pointing to next.
It was Tony Calcaterra.
Oh
,
no
, she thought. He's probably going
to bring up changing the dress code so that boys can wear earrings.

"I'd like to talk about the rotten food in the
cafeteria," he said with a frown.

A cheer went up from the class, and Matt Zeboski, who sat
next to Tony, clapped him on the back.

"And do you have a plan for making it better?"
asked Willie.

"Yes, I do," said Tony.

Katie perked up her ears in surprise. It sounded to her as
if Tony had been thinking about this problem for a while.

"I think the cooks should have a taste test, you know,
with samples of all the different kinds of food they make, and let students
taste them and vote for what we want them to serve."

There was total silence for an instant as everyone thought
over what Tony had just said. Then they began cheering. Some kids hooted and
stamped their feet. Katie couldn't help but join in the cheering. She had to
agree with Tony. The food in the cafeteria was
awful.

Willie held up her hand for quiet. "Okay," she
shouted. After everyone had stopped talking at once, she continued, "While
Wakeman Junior High is certainly a good school, I think everybody agrees that
there are a few things that need improving. So now let's put all this energy to
work accomplishing that. Suppose you each wrote down your complaints and worked
to explain your feelings the very best you could. Who would you want to read what
you had written?"

"The teachers," shouted Marcie Bee.

"Mr. Bell," added Dekeisha Adams.

"The members of the school board," interjected
Beth.

"You're all right. Now, where would all of them be able
to read something written by students?"

Katie did a double take. It was so obvious that she couldn't
believe she hadn't thought of it before when she was campaigning for one cause
or another.
"The Smoke Signal
!"
she called.

"That's right," said Willie. "Your school
paper,
The Smoke Signal.
And your assignment for tomorrow is to write a
letter to the editor explaining the best way you can what you think is wrong
with this school and how you propose to improve it."

Willie was a hit. The kids not only liked her, they were
leaning forward to hear her instructions on writing letters to the editor. They
were asking questions, sometimes interrupting each other in their excitement.
Katie let out a huge sigh of relief and sank back in her seat. Maybe having her
mother at school wasn't going to be so bad after all.

After school, Katie and her friends crowded into Bumpers,
the fast-food restaurant decorated with relics from an old amusement-park bumper-car
ride. It was the junior high hangout, and today everybody was talking about
their letters to the editor for Willie's writing class. Just as The Fabulous
Five sat down, Kaci Davis called to Katie from a couple of tables away.

"Hey, Katie. English class was a blast today. Your mom's
terrific. I mean it!" she said with a big smile. Kaci was a ninth-grader
and a member of Teen Court with Katie. She was not only captain of the
cheerleading squad, but she had also been queen of just about everything at Wakeman
Junior High, so her opinion counted with most kids. Even Katie liked her, in
spite of the fact that Katie thought beauty contests were dreadfully sexist and
should be outlawed from the face of the earth.

"Thanks," Katie called back across the tables.

"I heard Taffy Sinclair telling Mona Vaughn she's going
to suggest that they redecorate the school," said Beth. "She wants
the classrooms and the gym painted brighter colors."

"Oh, brother," said Katie.

"I've decided that what this school needs is coed gym
classes," said Melanie.

"Eeeeek!"' shrieked Jana. "There's a boy in
my shower!"

"Get serious," grumbled Melanie over everyone else's
laughter. "We'd still have separate locker rooms."

"I heard that a bunch of kids are going to write about
the awful food in the cafeteria," said Christie. "Tony Calcaterra is
going around saying that there's a better chance of getting results if
everybody writes about the same thing."

"Did he say that to you, too?" Beth asked Katie.

Katie chuckled. "I haven't talked to him since class,
but that sounds like something he'd say."

"What are you going to write about, Katie?" asked
Beth.

"I haven't decided yet," said Katie. "But don't
worry. I'll think of something."

When she got home from Bumpers, Katie went straight to her
mother's office. The room had once been a bedroom, which Willie had furnished
with a secondhand desk, some bookshelves made out of wooden planks and bricks,
and a couple of file cabinets bought at thrift shops. The "almost new"
computer completed the scene, and that was where Katie found her mother,
pounding away on the keyboard.

"So how was your first day of school?" asked
Katie, popping her head in the door.

Willie looked up and grinned. "Great," she said
enthusiastically. "I had a terrific time."

"The kids in my class really liked you, and everybody
at Bumpers was talking about what to write about," Katie assured her.

"The kids were super," added Willie, "and the
teachers couldn't find enough ways to help me."

That was just the opening Katie had wanted. "And Mr.
Newkirk? What did you think of him?"

Willie rolled her eyes. "That man is a wonder. He was
waiting in the hall at the end of every class and escorted me to the next one.
Then he took me to the teachers' lounge at lunchtime and introduced me to the
other teachers. I can't remember when I've had so much personal attention."

"Mr. Newkirk is awfully nice." Katie said the
words slowly for emphasis. "I knew you two would hit it off."

Her mother nodded. "All the teachers are nice.
Especially Mr. Dracovitch. And I understand that he's single, too."

Katie's mouth dropped open, but before she could respond,
her mother had gone on talking.

"He's really a very nice person. In fact, I think he
would be interesting to go out with."

"Mr. Dracovitch!" Katie shrieked. "Mom! Do
you know what kids call him behind his back?
Dracula!
They call him that
because he's weird, and he wears that shiny, black toupee all the time. Melanie
says he does it to get kids interested in taking his classes. She says he
thinks if kids get in the classes to watch him and see what he's going to do
next, they'll eventually get interested in science. But do you know what I
think?"

Willie smiled patiently and said, "It's pretty obvious
what you think, sweetheart. But let me tell you what I think.
I
think he's
a very creative teacher, and he should be commended for his originality."

"Oh, Mom," Katie groaned. "He's original, all
right. Every morning before school he cooks up something in his lab that smells
gross. And that's not all. I bumped into him in the hall this morning, and do
you know what he was carrying
into
his room? A bag of garbage."

"Come on, Katie. I can't believe that you're telling me
you don't approve of Mr. Dracovitch because he isn't just like everybody else.
You've always been the kind to stand up for your beliefs and be friends with
whomever you please, no matter what other people said. Look at your own romance
with Tony Calcaterra."

Katie blushed and looked at the floor. "But this is
different," she said just above a whisper.

"Why?" asked Willie.

"Because you're my mother." Katie made circles in
the carpet with the toe of her shoe. How could she explain to Willie that
things were just different when it was your own mother? It was great that Mr.
Dracovitch was creative and original, Katie thought. She liked people like
that, too, but let somebody else's mother start a romance with him. Especially
if everyone at school would find out.

Pictures of Willie and Mr. Dracovitch together were reeling
through her mind like a runaway movie. The two of them spending a fun evening
holding a séance in the basement. Mr. Dracovitch inviting Willie to help him
cook up a pot of stench in his lab before school. But the very worst of all,
Willie and Mr. Dracovitch being seen together in public.

"Mom, would you just listen?" Katie pleaded. "You
need advice about dating, right? And I promised I would give it to you, right?
Okay. Here goes. I've researched this whole situation very carefully, and I
know what I'm talking about. Forget . . . Mr. . . . Dracovitch. He's not your
type. Believe me. Think about Mr. Newkirk. You said yourself that he's a
wonder."

"But Katie . . ." Willie started to protest, but
Katie held up her hand.

"He's head of the English department. He's cultured. He's
smart. I'd be willing to bet that he'd love to go to the Ramses the Great
exhibit with you. And after that, who knows? Foreign films. Art museums. All
the stuff you like to do." Katie finished with a flourish and sank down
beside Willie's chair, looking up hopefully at her mother.

Willie screwed up her face as if she had just tasted
something sour. "But he has a potbelly and his voice is too high,"
she offered in a small voice.

Katie started to remind her mother of all the times she had
told Katie that looks weren't everything, but she couldn't help remembering
pale Mr. Dracovitch in his shiny, black toupee, and she bit her tongue.

Later, back in her own room, she thought over the situation.
She had only meant to help her mother get out of her lonely, boring routine.
Mr. Newkirk would be perfect for that. But Mr. Dracovitch? No way! Things were
starting to get out of hand. She would have to do something about it, and do it
quickly.