Treasure Fever! (3 page)

‘Good for you!' said Mr Brainfright. ‘I do hope you'll let me have a turn. I've always wanted to fly.'

‘Sure,' said Grant. ‘I'll talk to my dad.'

‘So there you are!' said Mr Brainfright. ‘You all have so much to teach me! The problem is, where do we start?'

‘With maths!' said Fiona. ‘We always study maths on Monday morning.'

‘We'll get around to that a bit later,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘But to begin with I'd like to start with the basics. First we are going to learn how to breathe.'

‘But we already know how to breathe!' said David.

‘Correction!' said Mr Brainfright. ‘Most people
think
they know how to breathe, but they actually don't know the first thing about it.'

Mr Brainfright walked over to the bank of windows that ran along one side of the classroom and flung each of them wide open.

‘Can anybody tell me what this is?' he said.

‘A window?' said Jenny.

‘Yes, and what else?' said Mr Brainfright.

‘An open window?' said Jenny.

‘And?' said Mr Brainfright, staring at each of us. ‘And . . . ?'

Nobody was quite sure what to say. We all stared back at him.

‘FRESH AIR!' he yelled.

Mr Brainfright was the first person I'd ever seen get
that
excited about fresh air.

Fiona put up her hand. ‘Can we do maths now?' she said.

‘But we haven't learned to
breathe
yet!' said Mr Brainfright. ‘We can't do maths, or anything for that matter, if we don't know how to fill our brains with fresh oxygen. Now, everybody stand up, please.'

I rose to my feet. I'd never had a ‘how to breathe' lesson before. Especially not on a Monday morning.

Monday mornings were normally spent arranging numbers in columns and adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing them. Of course, you had to breathe while doing this, but breathing wasn't the point of the exercise. The point of the exercise was to get the right answer.

‘All right,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘Stand up straight. Place your hands on your stomach. Now take a deep breath in through your nose. Keep breathing in . . . your stomach should inflate like a small balloon.'

Fiona McBrain put up her hand. ‘Will we be tested on this, sir?' she said.

‘Tested?' said Mr Brainfright. ‘What on earth are you talking about?'

‘Normally Mrs Chalkboard tests us at the end of each new unit of work,' said Fiona.

‘Would you like to be tested?' said Mr Brainfright.

‘Yes!' said Fiona. ‘I love tests!'

‘Okay,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘That's good. Because this is the most important test you will
ever
take. If you breathe correctly, you will live. If you don't, then . . . well . . . I'm afraid you won't be taking any more tests, on this or any other subject.'

Fiona nodded seriously. She had never failed a test in her life, and she wasn't about to start now. Especially when the stakes were so high.

Jenny nudged me and nodded in Newton's direction.

I looked over.

Newton was trembling.

‘It's okay, Newton,' I whispered. ‘Just keep breathing and you'll pass!'

Newton nodded.

‘No whispering,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘Just breathing!'

I breathed in. I felt my chest expand.

‘As you breathe, feel the air as it enters your nostrils,' he said. ‘Feel it as it passes across the back of your throat and down into your chest. Notice the moment where your lungs are full and that moment of stillness just before you breathe out again. Feel the oxygen from the air mixing with your blood. Feel your blood travelling to your arms, your legs and your brain. ISN'T BREATHING EXCITING?!'

‘Can we sit down now?' said Clive.

‘Sit down?' said Mr Brainfright. ‘But we've only just started!'

David put up his hand. ‘When are we going to start proper work, sir?' he said.

‘This
is
proper work!' said Mr Brainfright, smiling. ‘What could be more proper or important than learning how to breathe? You have to do it every day, every minute, every second that you are alive and if you were to stop you would die. I think it's worth a little bit of our attention, don't you?'

‘But I like maths!' said Fiona. ‘Can I count the number of breaths I take?'

‘If you must,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘But I don't see why just breathing isn't enough fun for you. I love breathing. The more fresh air the better!'

And saying that, Mr Brainfright stuck his head, and then the entire top half of his body, out the window.

‘Breathe in,' he shouted, ‘like so!'

I could see Mr Brainfright's chest expand, and then, suddenly, Mr Brainfright disappeared.

I blinked.

I couldn't quite believe it.

Mr Brainfright had fallen out the window!

Yes, you read that last sentence correctly.

MR BRAINFRIGHT HAD FALLEN OUT THE WINDOW!!!

I'm still not quite sure how it happened.

But it did.

It really did.

Now you might be thinking,
No big deal, teachers at our school fall out the window all the time. Sometimes they're even pushed.
But what you don't know is that our classroom is on the second floor. If a teacher falls out our window, it's serious!

‘Somebody
do
something!' said David.

‘Why don't
you
do something?' said Jack. ‘You're a class captain.'

‘What do you suggest?' said David. ‘This isn't exactly covered in the class captain's manual.'

‘There's a class captain's manual?' said Jack. ‘Really?'

‘No, of course not!' said David. ‘I was joking.'

‘G-g-g-g . . .' said Newton.

‘Uh-oh,' said Jenny. ‘Newton's having another panic attack.'

‘G-g-grab his feet!' said Newton, pointing to the window.

I rushed to the window.

Sure enough, just at the edge of the window sill, were two black tips—the tips of Mr Brainfright's shoes.

Mr Brainfright was hanging upside down by only his toes from a second-floor classroom window!

‘I don't suppose you could give me a lift up, could you?' He said this very calmly and coolly, as if he wasn't hanging upside down by only his toes from a second-floor classroom window.

‘Yes, sir,' I said. ‘No problem.'

I grabbed one of Mr Brainfright's ankles and tried to pull him in, but he was too heavy. I turned around to face the class. They were all staring blankly at me.

‘What are you waiting for?' I shouted. ‘Give me a hand!'

Gretel Armstrong rushed over and grabbed Mr Brainfright's other ankle. ‘Got you!' she said.

Gretel was so strong it was rumoured she could knock a person out with just one punch. Not that we'd ever seen her do it, but that was the rumour and nobody really wanted to test it to see whether or not it was true.

‘What do we do now?' I said.

‘Pull him in, of course!' said Gretel. ‘Are you ready?'

I nodded. ‘Ready! One, two, three, lift!'

Gretel and I lifted with every last bit of strength we had. But Mr Brainfright was still too heavy.

‘We need backup!' said Gretel. ‘Jenny! Put your arms around my waist. Then someone behind her, and someone behind them! David, you organise the boys to do the same around Henry's waist. When I give the signal we're all going to pull, got it?'

‘Got it!' said Jenny.

‘Brilliant!' said David. ‘Why didn't I think of that?'

‘Probably because it wasn't in the class captain's manual,' said Jack.

‘Very funny, Jack,' said David. ‘Now get into position. This is serious.'

‘Aye, aye, captain,' said Jack, saluting David.

Once everyone had taken their place in line Gretel gave the order to pull.

‘All right, everybody,' she said. ‘Heave!'

‘HEAVE!' yelled the class in response as we heaved.

‘Heave!' said Gretel.

‘HEAVE!' we yelled.

This went on for quite some time until slowly, but surely, we had pulled the bottom half of Mr Brainfright back into the room.

That's when the door of the classroom burst open.

‘Just what do you think you are doing?' said a cross voice. The voice was so cross that it could only belong to one person: Mrs Cross. Mrs Cross was easily the crossest teacher at Northwest Southeast Central School. In fact, I don't think I'd ever seen Mrs Cross when she wasn't cross.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Mrs Cross was standing just inside the door, her face red and her hands on her hips.

‘I'm trying to teach a lesson next door!' she said. ‘But I can hardly hear myself speak for all the shouting in here! Would you please explain what on earth you are doing? And where is your teacher?'

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you want to look at it—at that very moment we were suddenly successful in pulling the top half of Mr Brainfright back into the classroom.
It was so sudden, however, that none of us were prepared and we all heaved backwards and fell sprawling on the floor around Mrs Cross's feet, causing her to fall over as well.

‘Get off me!' said Mrs Cross, crossly pushing Fiona McBrain away. She stood up and brushed down her dress.

‘Good morning,' said Mr Brainfright, very politely, as if he hadn't been hanging by his toes from a second-floor window only moments before. ‘My name is Mr Brainfright. So sorry about the noise. I had a little accident.'

Mrs Cross glared at Mr Brainfright. ‘Where is Mrs Chalkboard?'

‘She's had to take a spot of shore leave,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘I'm 5C's substitute teacher.'

‘Is that so?' said Mrs Cross, eyeing him suspiciously. ‘Well, could you keep the noise down? Some of us are trying to teach!'

‘And some of us are falling out windows!' said Mr Brainfright.

Mrs Cross opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. Then, shaking her head, she turned and walked out of the classroom.

‘Thank you for your assistance, everyone,' said Mr Brainfright. ‘You may all return to your seats.'

I loved that.

We'd just saved his life and he ‘thanked us for
our assistance' as if we'd done no more than hold the door open for him.

We went back to our seats and sat and stared at Mr Brainfright.

‘As you can see,' he said, ‘when you're breathing, it's very important not to fall out the window.'