The smile left D.J.’s face. Something was definitely wrong with Kathy.
“Let’s go up,” said D.J.
“Yes, up,” Kathy agreed.
Now he was really worried.
4
Consider the Paper Clip
Read a book. Write a book report. Draw a picture.
That was the assignment Mrs. Jewls put up on the board.
Dana’s picture showed a giraffe studying a map. She had drawn a large question mark over the giraffe’s head.
Her book report only had to be one page, but she had written two whole pages. The Lost Giraffe was her favorite book ever!
Now all she needed was a paper clip.
She searched her desk.
She found quite a few pencils, mostly broken. There were lots of eraser bits and crayon nubs. There was also a crumb-covered pink piece of paper that had come off the bottom of a cupcake.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” she moaned as she continued to search.
She raised her hand.
“Yes, Dana,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“I need a new paper clip.”
“But I gave you one at the beginning of the year,” said Mrs. Jewls.
“I know, Mrs. Jewls. I’m sorry. I just can’t find it!”
Mrs. Jewls sighed. “I’m very disappointed in you, Dana.”
“I need a paper clip too,” said Joe.
Mrs. Jewls glared at him. “What did you do with the one I gave you?” she demanded.
“I think I used it on my science homework,” said Joe.
“I handed that back yesterday,” Mrs. Jewls reminded him. “Didn’t you save the paper clip?”
“I guess not,” Joe admitted.
Bebe was finishing up the last part of her picture. “Paper clip, please,” she said, without looking up from her work.
“One for me too,” said Calvin.
Mrs. Jewls slammed her hand on her desk. “Do you think paper clips grow on trees?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Calvin.
“I gave each one of you a paper clip at the beginning of the year. It was your responsibility to take care of it.” She opened her desk drawer, took out her paper clip box, and opened it. “There are only six left,” she said, shaking her head in dismay.
“Ooh, can I have one?” asked Joy. “I can’t find mine.”
Mrs. Jewls was too angry to reply. She moved to the front of the room. “You children are so spoiled,” she said. “Do you have any idea what it takes to make just one paper clip?”
She held up one of her last remaining paper clips. “Look at the perfect double loop. And the way it gleams in the light, almost like a mirror.”
Her anger seemed to melt away as she marveled at the magnificent metal masterpiece.
“It takes a lot of very talented people, and years of training and hard work,” she explained. “First, there’s the wire maker. Paper clip wire has to be just right, not too stiff, but not too wiggly either.
“Then there’s the wire polisher,” she continued. “That’s who gives the paper clip its special gleam. And the wire cutter, who cuts each wire to the precise length.
“And finally, and most important, the master bender. The bender carefully bends the wire into the perfect double loop.” She put her hand over her heart. “Sadly, in these rush-rush, hurry-hurry days, not too many young people study the art of paper clip bending. There are only a handful of master benders left in the whole world. And who knows, in ten or twenty years there might not be any. Everyone will have to switch to staples.”
“That is so sad,” said Dana.
Mrs. Jewls gave the paper clip to Dana. “Now don’t lose it!”
“I won’t!” Dana promised.
“Let me see,” said Bebe.
Dana proudly showed Bebe her new paper clip.
“It’s so beautiful!” said Bebe, admiring the double loops. “I never noticed before.”
“I’m going to be a paper clip bender when I grow up,” said Calvin.
Mrs. Jewls smiled at Calvin. She had never been more proud of a student.
5
Eric, Eric, and What’s-His-Name?
Oh, that’s right—Eric.
There are three Erics in Mrs. Jewls’s class: Eric Fry, Eric Bacon, and the other one—who everyone always forgets—Eric Ovens.
Eric Fry is strong and fast. He is usually the first one chosen when picking teams.
Eric Bacon is funny, clever, and just a little bit sneaky. Everyone in Mrs. Jewls’s class likes him, but no one completely trusts him.
Eric Ovens is kind, quiet, and 100 percent trustworthy. Sadly, that kind of person is often overlooked.
But not today, he thought as he sat at his desk, patiently waiting for Mrs. Jewls to finish taking attendance. Today would be his day of glory!
In his pocket was a plastic bag with eighty-three nail clippings!
Two numbers had been written on the blackboard: 71 and 2,677.
So far, the class had collected a total of 2,677 nail clippings. Seventy-one were the most brought in by any one kid.
They didn’t just have to be toenails. Fingernails counted too.
Eric Ovens took his bag out of his pocket and placed it on his desk.
“How many you got?” whispered Kathy, who sat next to him.
Eric didn’t want to jinx his big day by saying the number aloud. Besides, he knew Kathy would only say something mean, or mock him.
Mrs. Jewls closed her attendance book. “Anyone have any nail clippings this morning?”
Eric Ovens raised his hand.
“Yes, Eric,” said Mrs. Jewls.
Eric Ovens quietly pushed his chair back, but before he could get up, he saw Eric Fry already making his way to the front of the room.
“Forty!” Eric Fry declared proudly.
Eric Fry had kept his hand in a fist all morning. Everyone thought he was just trying to be tough. Now he opened his fist and let forty nail clippings fall into the collection bucket.
“Well done, Eric!” said Mrs. Jewls.
Everyone clapped their hands.
Eric Ovens smiled as he clapped his hands too. Eighty-three was more than double forty.
Eric Fry did the math on the board.
2677
+ 40
2717
“Halfway to a million!” cheered Stephen.
“Not quite,” Allison told him.
“Anyone else?” asked Mrs. Jewls.
Again Eric Ovens raised his hand, but Eric Bacon had already hopped out of his seat and was headed toward the front of the room.
He handed Mrs. Jewls a plastic bag full of nail clippings. “Three hundred and forty-nine!” he declared triumphantly.
The class went wild. Sharie gasped. Stephen fell out of his chair.
Eric Bacon danced around Mrs. Jewls’s desk, like a football player who had scored a touchdown.
Mrs. Jewls was skeptical of the spectacle. “I could count them,” she warned.
Eric stopped dancing. “Go ahead,” he challenged her.
Mrs. Jewls stared Eric Bacon in the eye. Eric Bacon stared right back.
Mrs. Jewls dumped the bag on her desk, and divided the clippings into four piles. She asked Dameon, Allison, and John to help. They each took a pile, and then Mrs. Jewls added their totals together.
“Three hundred and forty-nine,” she announced, “just as Eric said.”