CHAPTER FIVE
MY THIRD BIG MISTAKE

There were only a couple of weeks left in the school year, and I didn't know whether I should be happy or sad about that. On the one hand, I wouldn't have to get up and go to school every morning, just to be laughed at, pushed around, or ignored. On the other hand, I still hadn't made one friend to spend the summer with. Not one.

It was easy enough for me to see who the popular kids in my class were. Karen Summerfield led the girls. Teddy Whitetip, with his band of rough, sporty friends, seemed like the leader of the boys. After them were a list of the other kids, all with varying degrees of popularity, right down to me, Isington, at the bottom of the list.

But maybe not, I considered, sitting in class that morning. There was Karen McTree, after all. Nobody seemed to like her at all, especially the other girls. If the kids were cold and stand-offish to me, they were downright cruel to Karen McTree. Funny, I thought, that the most popular and least popular girls in class should have the same name: Karen. It struck me that that might have been part of the problem.

Mrs. Greenley rose and left the room to take her reports down to the office. It was like the other kids had been reading my mind. Karen Summerfield turned to her friend, Stacy Oakburrow and touched her, deliberately. Karen then raised her crossed fingers, reciting, "Karen McTree's germs, no return!"

There were a few snickers. I looked over at Karen McTree. She was busy at her schoolwork, pencil dancing away, as she tried to ignore what was going on around her.

Immediately Stacy turned to Marla Crafty, and touched her. "Karen McTree's germs, no return!"

"You promised you weren't going to give me Karen McTree's germs anymore," Marla argued loudly.

Stacy shrugged, showing her crossed fingers. "I didn't want them," she explained.

At once, Marla began casting around for someone to pass Karen McTree's germs onto. Right before my eyes, I watched as all the kids in the class, even the ones who were still busy at their work, brought a hand with crossed fingers up into sight on their desks. I looked at Karen McTree; she was biting her lower lip but still pretending not to notice. It frightened me to realize how easily it might be me and not Karen McTree they could be doing this to.

Marla looked around desperately, and finally jumped from her desk and dashed toward Karen McTree. "I know!" she shouted. "I'll just give the germs back to Karen McTree!"

"No, don't touch her!" Karen Summerfield hollered. "If you do that, you'll get a double dose of Karen McTree's germs!"

Marla stopped short, just before Karen McTree. No longer able to ignore what was going on, Karen halted her pencil. She looked up at Marla, silent but pleading. I found myself urging Marla, just as silently, to go sit back down and forget the nonsense. But Marla just stood there, looking around for someone without his or her fingers crossed.

Her eyes found me. Instantly, almost automatically, I began to cross my fingers. Karen McTree spun her head around. Her eyes met mine. My fingers froze. Even if I didn't actually take part in tormenting Karen, I realized, just by crossing my fingers, I was going along with it, saying it was okay. Slowly, with all eyes on me, I uncrossed my fingers and placed my paws flat on my desk. I stared back at Marla.

Marla smiled wickedly and was just about to leap at me when Mrs. Greenley came back into the room. She stopped. "Marla," she said, "what are you doing out of your desk?"

There was a moment of awkward silence while Marla considered her answer. "I was just... I was going to sharpen my pencil," Marla answered sweetly.

"Well, next time you should bring a pencil with you, don't you think?" Mrs. Greenley suggested, and with her eyes led Marla's gaze back to her desk. Marla's pencil sat there on her neglected school work.

"Oops," Marla shrugged, smiling sheepishly. She padded back to her desk and picked up her pencil, and went to sharpen it while Mrs. Greenley sat down. A few people stared at me uncertainly. Karen Summerfield shot me a frosty glare; I met her gaze and stared back until finally Karen looked back down at her work. I knew I was in trouble with her, but somehow it didn't matter. I looked over at Karen McTree. She was busy again, ignoring the other kids.

Recess came and went. I remembered to avoid the grade sixers' area, and sat alone against the brick work of the school. Suddenly there were shouts of delight, and I looked up to see a shiny white truck passing along the road in front of the school. The side of the truck read, 'Mother Mudpie's Homemade Ice Cream'. The kids in the school yard stopped whatever they were doing, and mumblings about the free ice cream from the other dairy filled my ears. There were loud protests of disappointment as the truck carried on along its way, past the school and around the corner. I smiled to myself.

After recess came math, and I struggled hard to get long division down pat. I knew I'd have to do well in the tests next week if I wanted to pass. The last thing I wanted was to take summer school, where I would no doubt meet up with Bruno Basso on a daily basis. I shuddered at the idea.

Since coming to Brookside Elementary, I had made a point of going out to the school yard to eat my lunch. I found the lunchroom crowded and noisy, and lonely, in spite of all the kids in it. If I was lonely outside, at least I didn't have other kids screaming in my ears or bumping me with their elbows.

My sandwich that day was peanut butter. That helped some; I liked peanut butter. I was just about to eat my dessert when I felt someone grab my shoulder and yank me off the bench.

I turned to face Bruno Basso. Behind Bruno were Teddy Whitetip and some of his buddies. I felt a wave of fear wash through my body, as if someone had splashed me from the inside.

"So, how you been, Pushy?" Bruno asked me, and gave me a solid thump on the shoulder that pushed me back.

I didn't say anything, but simply looked around for a teacher, or a friendly face, or anything that would get me out of this.

"Bet you thought I'd forget, huh?" Bruno said, pushing me again. "Well, I didn't. I've been looking for you. You missed your appointment with me yesterday and today, and I don't like to be kept waiting." He gave me a third shove, and this time I jerked Bruno's hand away.

For a split second, Bruno was startled. Then his eyes seemed to catch fire. He grabbed the little plastic pudding cup I had in my other paw. With one swift motion, he got behind me, twisting my arm painfully behind my back, and slammed the pudding cup into my face. Chocolate pudding shot out of it and all over my cheeks, my hair, and down onto my shirt. Bruno ground the crumpled plastic cup into my face roughly. Then he pushed me onto the ground, his knee in my back, and he snarled in my ear, "Say you're sorry! Say it!!"

I could hear the laughter of Teddy and his friends; I could sense the other kids gathering around to watch, but none of them would dare to interfere to help me. I felt Bruno push my arm higher and for a moment it felt like it would break. I heard myself yell in pain and bewilderment, and all the will power drained from me. "I'm sorry!" I whimpered.

"Again! Say it louder!" Bruno demanded, and he pushed my arm even higher. I cried out again, and repeated my forced apology, louder this time.

"My arm!!" I screamed, and I felt Bruno release me and rise from my back.

"Remember that," I heard Bruno command. I sensed Bruno and the laughing Teddy move away.

I wondered if my arm was broken. Dazed, I picked myself unsteadily up from the ground. Kids laughed at the pudding all over my face and up and down my shirt. I felt like going home, but I knew I couldn't. And besides, I knew it wouldn't solve the problem. Stinging, I turned to go inside and clean myself up, when I realized someone was holding a napkin out to me.

I blinked. It was Karen McTree holding the napkin. After a moment, I took the napkin and nodded my thanks before stepping inside.

So it seemed Karen McTree had noticed my reaction to Marla's taunting, and appreciated it. I felt a little better, but I wasn't sure it would be much good to have Karen McTree as a friend. It would probably only bring me more trouble.

I managed to get all the pudding out of my hair and fur, but it had left big stains on my shirt that the warm water in the sink in the boys' room wouldn't get out. My mother would want to know what had happened. I didn't look forward to trying to explain.