THE REVENGE OF THE SUBSTITUTE TEACHER

It's August 31st. Do You Know Who Your Teacher Is?

By the end of the fourth grade, everyone knew that there were two things you never wanted to happen to you in the fifth grade. First, you never wanted to get Mr. Manlin for a teacher. Second, you never wanted to land in the same class as Larry Hensack.
    Mr. Manlin had a reputation for being the strictest, meanest teacher in the whole fifth grade. No, make that the strictest, meanest teacher in the whole school. As for Larry, let's just say his mother should have warned the world and named him The Terror.
    Three years ago, my older brother, Dillon, had Mr. Manlin for his fifth- grade teacher. He'd been trying to scare me and my friends all summer. Dillon said if we got Mr. Manlin, we could kiss our life good-bye.
    My dad actually requested Mr.Manlin for Dillon. Dad thought that Manlin was just what Dillon needed. My brother had gotten into a little trouble at school at school the year before. I have to admit, he did seem to clean up his act. In fact, he was so nice it started to get annoying after a while.
    Anyway, back to me. I hardly ever got into trouble, at least not with teachers. So I didn't think I needed to learn any big lessons. In fact, my dad said if I kept up the good work this year he might consider getting me the dirt bike I wanted.
     Believe me, I planned to try my hardest this year, even if it required studying. I just hoped it wouldn't be with Mr. Manlin. Every day I checked the mailbox to see if anything had come from the school.
     My friend Matt and I called each other every day to see if the other one had heard anything. Matt said if it didn't come soon, he was going to call the school. I hoped I wouldn't have a nervous breakdown in the meantime.
     When the phone rang, I knew it was Matt. It was time for our daily check-in.
"Hey, Jeff, telephone," Dillon called from downstairs.
"Who is it?" I yelled back.
"It's the President of United States. He said it's urgent."
" Very funny." I picked up the phone in the hallway. "I've got it. You can hang up now. Hello?" "Hey. It's Matt. Did you hear?" he said, sounding anxious.
"I didn't check the mailbox yet. It came today?" My heart was racing."Hold on."
I ran downstairs and blasted through the front door. When I opened the mailbox there was a big pile of junk mail and lots of bills. Then I saw it, addressed to the parents of Jeffery C. Malloy. The returned address was " Springer Elementary." My hands were shaking wildly. I managed to rip it open. And there it was, my fate spelled out in black and white. I let out a scream that was probably heard all the way to China.
Jeffery C. Malloy. 5th grade. Mr. Manlin. Room 512.
I ran back inside and picked up the phone. "I'm dead."
"Mr.Manlin?"
"What am I going to do?"
"You got him, too?" I asked, trying to sound like I wished he didn't.
" Like the plauge," Matt said.
I must admit, I felt relieved. At least if I had a good buddy in the class, I might have a chance at surviving fifth grade.
"Did you talk to anyone else?" I asked.
"Nope," he said, his voice sort of shaky. "I called you first. I was going to call Chris next."
"Horrible. This is horrible." That was all I could think of to say.
"Hey, maybe your mom has some pull with the principle. I mean, she's always doing all that volunteering and everything. Why don't you ask her? While she's at it, I'll call Chris mention me, too. Think about it. I'll call Chris now and then I'll call you back."
I sat by the phone in a state of shock. From what I'd heard, Mr.Manlin believed that fifth graders needed lots of discipline, and lots of homework. Supposedly this prepares you for middle school. I get enough of that discipline at home.
Why me? I thought.
My brother came barreling up the stairs, took one look at me, and said, " Bye-bye. It's been nice knowing you." He must have overheard me screaming my head off at the mailbox. Then he laughed, pointed to the door, and told me he needed the phone and some privacy. That meant he was going to call Cindy.
I clutched the phone to my chest. "Not now, Dillon! I'm waiting for Matt to call me back. I want to find out who else got Manlin."
My brother didn't respond expect to rip the phone out of my hands and yell,"Beat it, brat."
Dillon yapped on the phone for more than twenty minutes. As soon as he hung up, the phone rang. It was Matt again.
"What did you find out?" I asked.
"Chris got Manlin, too. Kyle got Mrs. Smith."
"Boy, did he lick out," I said, feeling envious and angry. Mrs. Smith was the one everyone hoped they'd get. She still believed in the candy principle. The candy principle means she rewarded good behavior with candy bars and gum. Sometimes he she even brings in doughnuts, and at Christmas she made everyone these really awesome handmade presents.
"We need a plan," I said.
"Yeah? What?" he said, sounding defeated.
"Pizza's here," my dad called. "Wash up, guys." Pizza usually meant my mom was working late.
I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow," I told Matt.
I wondered who else would be in my class. Maybe my friend Jax has lucked out and got Mrs. Smith. Jax was in my class last year. I really liked her, mostly because she was the only girl who was even halfway nice to me. Once she started being nice, all her friends started being nicer, too. I was almost popular.
It was not like I was a geek or anything last year, but I was pretty skinny and I didn't have a lot of trouble getting my hair to look right. I'm cursed with the Malloy hair, thick and wavy brown. Mom bought me some new hair gel, so it was more under control. I'd had a major growth spurt over the summer, and I hoped I'd finally be as tall as some of the girls. I had a felling that even my improved looks couldn't save me. I could hardly sleep that night. The next morning, I called up Matt and Chris and told them to meet me at our tree fort at noon. The fort's in the woods behind my backyard. My brother must have been eavesdropping, because as soon as we got to the tree fort, Dillon and his goofy friend Weasel showed up. The tree house barely fits the three of us, so my brother came in but Weasel just stood at the top of the ladder. "What's up, dweebs?" Dillon asked, jerking Matt's baseball cap over his eyes.
"Nothing much," Matt shot back in an edgy voice.
Weasel kind of squeezed his eyebrows together as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. "I wouldn't say getting Sergeant Manlin for the nine months is 'nothing much.' Do you have any idea what you're in for?"
We didn't respond. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, I just wanted to warn you guys, because there's a couple of things you should know before school starts." He started going down the ladder as if he was leaving.
Matt called him back. "What things are you talking about?"
"Don't scare them, Weez," Dillon said, smiling. He, maybe the guy has mellowed since that incident when that kid forgot to bring in his science project."
My brother patted Chris on the back. "Don't worry, guys. I'm pretty sure they've got laws against teachers doing that kind of stuff today. Atleast, I hope so. Anyway, I'm sure Manlin has a fun side, too."
     "Oh yeah, he's a real funny guy," Weasel said.
     "Manlin's notorious for giving out impossible homework assignments on Halloween night. Usually he'll tell you to make a whole world atlas just to cut into your candy collection time," Dillon said.
     Weasel made a painted face. "The morning inspections are the real killers. He walks from desk to desk and checks to see that everything is shipshape. Your nails must be immaculate. Your shoelaces must be even on both sides. If you don't pass, he'll make you hit the floor and give him fifty."
     "I think you guys are just trying to scare us," I said.
     Dillon shook his head. "You'll see. He's Ben got his own dress code. Sloppiness is one of the worst offenses you could commit. The creases on his shirts and pants are so sharp you could get a paper cut if you accidentally brushed against him in the hallway,"
     "Another thing," Weasel added, yanking the hair on the back of my head, "You might want to think about something along the line of a buzz haircut. We could give you all a shave right now if you want us to," he said, trying to torture us.
     I pushed his hand away. There was no way I was cutting off my hair took me all summer to grow out. I was starting to like the way I looked. "I'm not cutting it no Matt what," I said, I meant it.
     "Well," Weasel said, "I'm just telling you he doesn't go for what he calls the 'unmade beds' look."
     I looked over at Matt with his messy, curly brown hair hanging down on his freckled face, and his blue jeans with the holes in the knees. Then I looked at Chris, who looked like he'd been lost in the woods for three days. I thought, We don't have a chance.
     "Well, guys, we're just telling you this stuff because we don't you to go unprepared," Dillon said. "Your only hope is if he gets sick a lot this year and you get plenty of substitutes. You're going to need the relief, believe me." He nodded for emphasis.
     "Unless you get that nut case. What was her name, Weez?"
     "Oh, that one. Ma.Wilder. We only had her for one day, but how could you forget her name? Man, that woman wasn't flying with both engines." Then Dillon and Weasel let out a wicked laugh and took off, kicking up a trail of dust with their bikes.
     We all took deep breaths.
     "Do you think they were lying? You know, maybe just trying to scare us?" Chris asked me, looking like he was about to cry.
     "I don't know. It's hard to tell with Dillon and even it's even harder to tell with the Weez," I said. "I was only in second grade when Dillon had Mr. Manlin, so I don't remember it very well."
     "Did anyone hear Larry Hensack got?" Chris asked.
     "Yeah, I checked with Kyle. He said Larry got Mrs. Smith, too," Matt said.
"Yes!" I screamed. "At least I won't have to worry about him stealing the desserts out of my lunch box everyday."
"Or being Krazy-Glued to your chair," Matt added.
     "Or finding a piece of moldy broccoli I side your desk," I laughed.
     "Well, let's look at the bright side," Chris said. At least we're all in this together. For all we know, Mr. Manlin could turn out to be a decent guy."
     We all nodded in agreement, but not one of us believed it for a second.