Tabloidology (13 page)

Ms. Baumgartner snapped her fingers again.

Trixi knew the principal wasn't going to budge. She slid her arms slowly off the stack of newspapers to reveal the front-page headline:

DEDLY DRINCKING FOWNTAINS!

Water in school's drincking fowntains contanes sleeping poshon!

Ms. Baumgartner snatched up the newspaper and turned to page two:

MISTERIOUS VIRUS CAUZES ADULTS TO LOOZ
THERE VOICES
!

On page three she read:

SCIENCE FARE PROJEC A SUCSESS! GRADE SIX
HAMPSTER IS A GENIUS!

Then there was the weather forecast:

RAYNING CATS AND DOGS? NOPE! JUST FROGS!

Trixi didn't have to wait for Ms. Baumgartner to say anything. She picked up the stack of unsold papers and followed the principal through the crowd to her office. Just before closing her door, Ms. Baumgartner looked at Martin and motioned for him to join them.

Even before Trixi had a chance to sit in her usual yellow plastic chair, Ms. Baumgartner was ranting. “This in NOT the newspaper I approved yesterday! I made myself perfectly clear. The paper I approved was to be copied AS IS and sold AS IS. NO CHANGES! That was clearly plain…er…plainly clear. NO CHANGES!”

“I
did
try to sell the edition of the paper you approved, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said, coolly handing her the unsold copies of the
Upland Green Examiner
.

“You saw what happened when we tried to sell Martin's paper,” Trixi said. “Five copies sold. Then, after everyone discovered the paper was about as exciting as watching an ice cube melt, no one bought a single copy.”

Ms. Baumgartner paced back and forth, her hands held tightly behind her back, her eyes flicking up and down from ceiling to floor and back. Even though she wasn't sure if Ms. Baumgartner was in any mood to listen, Trixi kept talking. “You wanted us to write a paper that would sell. I knew the edition you approved wouldn't sell because it was just so boring. So, last night, I took the stories and did some editing, giving them a bit of punch and pizzazz! Just the way you suggested.”

Ms. Baumgartner stopped, stared at Trixi and nodded slowly. Trixi took this as a good sign, so she rambled on. “I knew I couldn't let you down, Ms. Baumgartner! I knew I had to do something to save our school newspaper. So I started selling my punch-and-pizzazz version of the paper. And here are the results!”

Trixi dug into her pants pockets and pulled out handful after handful of coins. By the time her pockets were empty, there was a heap of money on the principal's desk. Ms. Baumgartner slowly walked around to the back of her desk and sat down, her eyes glued to the pile of coins.

“I'm just trying to make the paper pay for itself,” Trixi said. “And by the looks of this, I'd say I was pretty successful.”

Martin jumped forward and swept his arm across the desk, scattering the coins across the floor.

“Just because you made a lot of money doesn't mean the paper was a success!” he said. His face was turning a scary shade of red.

Trixi shook her head slowly and said, “You're smarter than that, Martin. Everyone knows that the more money you make, the more successful you are. This,” she said, pointing at the scattered coins, “means my paper was a success. And yours wasn't.”

“But just look at this paper!” Martin grabbed a copy of the
Upland Green Gossiper
. “Who cares if it makes a million dollars? This paper is a disgrace! An embarrassment to the school!”

“Money talks, Marty,” Trixi said.

“It's an unfortunate fact, Martin, that the survival of the school newspaper does depend upon it making some money,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “Remember our agreement? Enough copies had to be sold to pay for the expenses of copying the paper.”

“So, what you're saying,” Martin said, “is that it doesn't matter what's written in the paper as long as it sells?”

“No, it's not that simple,” Ms. Baumgartner said. “There has to be a—”

Before Ms. Baumgartner could finish, Mrs. O'Reilly appeared once again at the office door.

TWELVE

T
he last time Mrs. O'Reilly had burst into Ms. Baumgartner's office, she was screaming. This time, she was not. Although her mouth was opening and closing, not a sound came out. She was bug-eyed, her arms flailed and everything about her was screaming. The only thing missing was the actual sound.

“Mrs. O'Reilly! What is it? Say something!” Ms. Baumgartner said.

“Page two!” Trixi said. “Remember? The virus!”

“It has nothing to do with the newspaper,” Martin said. “My mom caught laryngitis last month and she sounded…er, didn't sound, just like Mrs. O'Reilly.”

Standing alongside Mrs. O'Reilly was one of her students, Cindy Flagstone. Cindy was staring down at the floor, refusing to look the principal in the eye.

It was like a wild game of charades when Mrs. O'Reilly tried to mime why she and Cindy were down at the office as she scurried around the office on all fours.

“A dog? A dog chewed up Cindy's test paper?” Ms. Baumgartner said. “No? A small dog? A Chihuahua? She brought her Chihuahua to school and it attacked the test? It attacked you? No?”

Cindy couldn't stand it any longer. “Einstein wrote my math test for me!”

Mrs. O'Reilly nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Einstein?” Ms. Baumgartner said. “Einstein? We don't have a student in this school named Einstein.”

Cindy sighed and said, “Einstein's our class's pet hamster.”

Ms. Baumgartner began to rub her forehead again. “Let me get this straight, Cindy. You're saying the class hamster wrote your math test for you?”

Cindy nodded.

“And by a hamster, you mean a small furry rodent that lives in a cage, chews up newspaper and likes to run on a wheel?”

Cindy nodded again, and Mrs. O'Reilly nodded in agreement. Trixi watched Ms. Baumgartner searching for words, for answers, for anything to say about this mystifying situation.

“It's just like the story in this week's paper,” Trixi said. “The grade-six hamster really is a genius!”

“I read the newspaper too, Trixi!” Ms. Baumgartner said.

“But there's a big difference, young lady, between a fairy tale in the school newspaper and what actually happens in real life.”

Mrs. O'Reilly pulled Cindy's test paper out of her pocket and tapped the paper with her finger, pointing at the
A+
written in red ink across the top. As Mrs. O'Reilly began waving her hands and arms, Cindy said, “She's trying to tell you that I'm not very good at math. I fail most tests.” Then Mrs. O'Reilly pointed to a telltale paw print on the edge of the paper.

“The
Upland Green Gossiper
does it again!” Trixi said.

“I wouldn't be so sure, Trixi,” Martin said. “This is just another coincidence.”

“A math-genius hamster is a coincidence?” Trixi said. “I think not! And it sure isn't a coincidence that Mrs. O'Reilly lost her voice, because I wrote a story about that too. In fact, it looks as if more of the adults have lost their voices!” Three more teachers walked up to the office door, waving their arms and pointing to their throats.

“There you go. What did I tell you? It's true! It's really true!” Trixi said. “A school full of adults who can't talk. Now, that's my idea of paradise!”

Ms. Baumgartner opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She clutched her throat and tried to talk again, but not a sound could be heard. The same could be said—or not said—for Mrs. Sledge.

Ms. Baumgartner ran to her desk and pulled out a pen and notepad. She wrote in a frenzy for a few moments and then held out the paper to Trixi and Martin.

“I can't read her writing,” Trixi said. “Here, you read it.”

Martin took the notepad and began to read out loud, “
This
is an emergency! Are you willing to help?
”

“Sure, I'm willing to help,” Trixi said.

“Me too,” Martin said.

Ms. Baumgartner took the pad back, scribbled some more and handed the pad back to Martin who read, “I'm calling an emergency assembly. We can't have it in the gym. Some water from the flood seeped into the gym, and today the repairmen are fixing the water damage to the floor. The assembly will have to be held outside on the front field. I'll need one of you to go on the pa to call everyone out to the assembly.”

“Really, Ms. Baumgartner? You want one of us to go on the pa?” Trixi said.

Ms. Baumgartner nodded and even added a smile. Trixi couldn't tell if the smile was meant to say
Please do this for
me after all the problems you've caused
, or,
I trust you to do the
right thing
. Whichever it was, Trixi would take a smile over a frown any day.

“Okay, Ms. Baumgartner. You can count on me,” Trixi said.

“Me too,” added Martin.

The principal led Trixi and Martin to the microphone. She pressed a few buttons, and then handed the microphone to Trixi, who spoke as if she went on the pa every day of the week.

“Attention, please, students and teachers at Upland Green School! This is an important announcement.” Then she handed the microphone to Martin.

“What do I say?” he said. All he got from Ms. Baumgartner was some arm-waving and from Trixi, a mischievous smile. He cleared his throat and put his lips to the microphone. “All classes are to assemble on the front field as poon as sossible… I mean, as soon as possible!”

“As poon as sossible, Marty?” Trixi said. “Where did you learn to talk? Maybe you can write, but when it comes to talking…”

Ms. Baumgartner banged the counter with her knuckles and waved Trixi and Martin back to her office. From a cupboard, she hauled out the megaphone they used on sports day and motioned for Trixi and Martin to follow her outside.

Moments later, the classes began to file out one by one onto the front field and line up just as they would for a fire drill. When the entire school was out, Ms. Baumgartner gave the megaphone to Trixi, along with a clearly written note.

Trixi put the megaphone to her mouth, pressed a button and slowly read, “Thank you all for coming out in such an orderly fashion!” Her garbled voice boomed across the field, and all eyes in the school were upon her. She was loving every moment.

“As with all assemblies,” she continued, “we will start by singing the national anthem. Adults are excused from singing for obvious reasons.” Everyone rose, stood at attention and waited. But without a piano or a teacher to lead them in the singing, they all just stood at attention, not knowing what to do.

Ms. Baumgartner quickly scribbled a note on her pad and held it up to Trixi. It read,
You start the singing!

Trixi put the megaphone to her mouth, pushed the button once again and said, “Leading us in the national anthem today will be Martin Wettmore!” She shoved the megaphone in Martin's face and said, “Okay, Marty! Do your thing! It's show time!”

Martin stared out at the six hundred eyes looking back at him. There was nothing else he could do. In a voice that sounded like a cross between a frog and a sick camel, he croaked out the first line of the national anthem. Fortunately, as soon as he began to sing, everyone else with a voice joined in and belted out the anthem with more gusto than ever before.

As the final words of the anthem faded away, twelve students in grade seven yawned and lay down on the ground. A few seconds later, half of a grade-six class did the exact the same thing. Soon students in each and every class were yawning, lying down on the grass and falling fast asleep. Some slept on their backs, folding their hands behind their heads. Others curled up, sleeping with their knees tucked to their chests. One student, Jeremy Horsely, even slept standing up. And of course, there was plenty of snoring.

Only a handful of students—those lucky enough not to have taken a drink from the drinking fountain, remained awake. They gawked with amazement at a field covered in sleeping kids. Although none of the teachers could say anything, they ran frantically from child to child, trying to shake them awake.

Trixi lifted the megaphone to her mouth. “There's no need to panic! If you've read the latest edition of the
Upland Green
Gossiper
, you know that our drinking fountains contain a sleeping potion. Any students who drank from the fountains in the school will be asleep for a while. Unfortunately, the article didn't say how to wake them up or how long they'll sleep. Sorry about—”

Martin yanked the megaphone out of Trixi's hands, pressed the button and shouted, “Don't listen to her! It's not true! None of it! The kids are probably just tired from pe class. All they need is a little nap, and they'll be—”

Ms. Baumgartner wrenched the megaphone from Martin, shaking her head solemnly.

“Don't worry, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said. “It's not so bad to have these kids sleeping all day. The school's much quieter this way. Teachers like that.”

The few kids who weren't sleeping were sent to sit on benches by the school, while Ms. Baumgartner walked up and down the rows of snoozing kids, closely followed by Martin and Trixi. The principal was looking desperately for signs of any snoozing students waking up.

“For your sake, I hope this isn't a Sleeping Beauty sleep, Ms. Baumgartner,” Trixi said. “If it is, they'll be sleeping on the front field for a hundred years. And where are you going to find enough handsome princes and princesses to awaken everyone? Princes and princesses are in short supply, you know!”

“Don't worry, Ms. Baumgartner,” Martin said. “No one sleeps for a hundred years, except in fairy tales.”

“At this rate, they'll probably have to change the name of this place to Rip Van Winkle School,” Trixi said.

Ms. Baumgartner kept walking up and down the rows of students, trying to ignore Trixi and Martin. But she couldn't ignore Martin when he suddenly cuffed her on the top of her head. She whirled around and glared at him, giving him a look that was meant to say, “What in the world are you doing?”