Horrible Harry Moves up to the Third Grade (3 page)

BOOK: Horrible Harry Moves up to the Third Grade
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A Deadly Event
Things took a nosedive the next day when Harry brought something to school in a shoe box.
The box had cellophane on top so you could look inside. All we could see, though, was dirt, some grass, a rock, a plastic lid, and a toilet-paper tube.
“Oh no,” Ida groaned. “Does that box have a snake in it like the first day in second grade?”
“Nope.” Harry grinned.
“Something better,” he said. “My mom read me
Charlotte's
Web this summer, and I got interested in spiders.”
Miss Mackle beamed. “I remember when I read that book to you last year.”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I will never forget our invasion of the cobwebs. Well, there's a
real
spider and cobweb in this box, and I have to get him some fresh water.”
Sidney cringed.
We watched Harry open up the trapdoor on the side of the box, pull out a small lid, and take it over to the classroom sink to fill it with water. When he returned, he put it carefully back inside.
“Now I'll close the trapdoor so Charles can't get out.”
“Charles?” Sidney scoffed. “You gave your spider a name?”
“Of course,” Harry snapped. “He's my pet spider. I found him in my bathtub a week ago.”
“I didn't know spiders took baths,” Sidney said.
“They don‘t,” Harry groaned. “He was just thirsty. A bathtub is a good place to find some water.”
“What kind of spider is he?” Miss Mackle asked.
“Just an ordinary one with eight legs and eight eyeballs,” Harry said. “He has everything he needs in this spider house. I just have to feed him a fly now and then.”
“I hate spiders,” Sidney said. “They're bloodsuckers.”
Mary put her hands on her hips. “Spiders have to eat, too! Charlotte explained all of that.”
“I think I'll make a spider house for my egg sac after school,” Song Lee said.
“I'll help you,” Mary replied.
Harry and I started pulling books about spiders out of the library corner.
Mary and Song Lee got their science notebooks and started drawing pictures of Charles.
Dexter and Ida made a spider board game about
Charlotte's Web
with pink chance cards.
“What were the names of Charlotte's three grandchildren?” Dexter said as he wrote the question down. “Name them and you advance three spaces.”
And then at 10:07 it happened.
When everyone was busy
Harry was over by the windows trapping a fly for Charles's meal.
“Auuuuuuuugh!”
Sidney screamed. “The spider just crawled out the trapdoor. He's gonna get me!”
Harry put down his flyswatter and raced over.
But not in time.
Sidney took one of my copper rocks and smashed the spider.
Blam!
“You killed Charles!”
Harry yelled.
Miss Mackle rushed over.
Everyone made a circle around the science table.
“He was trying to escape,” Sidney pleaded. “He was going to bite me. I did what I had to do.”
No one said anything.
Slowly Harry put up two fists.
Uh-oh, I thought. Now he's thinking Double Revenge.
Miss Mackle called us over to the braided rug in the library corner. “Please sit down, boys and girls,” she said.
We did.
“Spiders are nature's best friends. They eat harmful insects. They help plants grow. We don't have to be afraid of them.”
Mary sneered.
“Sidney's
the only one afraid of spiders.”
Everyone stared at Sidney.
“So?” he said. “They can kill you.”
Miss Mackle drew something on her clipboard. “There are two spiders that are deadly. Both have special markings. The black widow has...”
“...a red hourglass on its abdomen,” Harry interrupted.
“Yes. And the other has a violin marking on its back. That's the brown recluse.”
Everyone studied the teacher's drawings.
“But most spiders are harmless.”
Sidney made a face. “They're not my best friends.” Then he paused. “I am ... sorry ... about Charlie.”
“His name was
Charles,”
Harry snapped.
“Well, I think we should have a moment of silence for Harry's dead pet,” Mary suggested.
“That sounds like a good idea,” the teacher replied.
So we did. We bowed our heads and closed our eyes and thought about Charles. Then Miss Mackle took us downstairs for a drink and a run in the sun. I think she wanted us to air out our brains.
When we came back to the room, Sidney started looking around for something. “Hey,” he blurted out, “someone stole my burnt wiener!”
Things Get Rocky
The next week, things got a lot rocki er between Harry and Sidney. When we were getting off the bus, Harry said, “Hey, Sid, how would you like to see me eat rocks for breakfast?”
“Huh?” Sidney peeked in the bag of rocks Harry was carrying. There was mica and pyrite and granite and quartz.
“How'd you like to see me eat rocks,” Harry repeated.
Sidney's eyes bulged. “I'd love to see you do that.”
“Well, it's going to cost you something,” Harry said.
“You can't have my milk money,” Sidney warned.
“I don't want your milk money,” Harry replied. “I want something else.”
“What?”
“To see if you can run around the playground four times and get to our room before the bell rings.”
“That's it?”
Harry nodded. “I'll be standing by the window counting to make sure you run each lap.”
Mary and Song Lee and Ida took a step back. “You're eating rocks for breakfast?” they said.
“If Sidney does his part of the bargain,” Harry said.
“You're lookin' at the roadrunner,” Sidney said. “See you in the room when you eat ... rocks!”
And he took off!
Harry and I dashed upstairs and peered out the classroom window. There was Sidney racing around the playground. Each time he ran a lap, Harry held a finger up.
Every now and then, Sidney would look up to see if Harry was watching.
When Harry held up three fingers, I looked at the clock. Five minutes to go!
Sidney was slowing down now. Finally he finished the fourth lap.
Just as he got in the room and plopped down in his seat, the bell rang.
“I ... I ... made ... it,” Sidney gasped. His hands were touching the floor. “Now ... it's ... it's ... time for ... your ... part of ... the bargain.”
Harry opened up his backpack and reached for a napkin. He tucked it inside his shirt.
Song Lee and Mary looked worried when he set the bag of heavy rocks on his desk.
“Here I go!” he said. Then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a box of salt and shook some out on his tongue. “Mmmmm, poor man's potato chips.”
Sidney sat up. “What are you doing? You're not eating rocks. You're eating salt.”

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