Justine McKeen, Pooper Scooper (4 page)

“Turn the flyer over,” Justine said. “You can read about something called a biogas digester. It's a big container that digests dog poop with bacteria. This creates methane gas, which can be used for streetlights. It won't take much money to set one up right here in the park.”

“This is way cool,” the double-ewww kid said. “Poop power! I'm glad I'm here to help.”

“I have a question,” the ewww kid said. “I'm here because I like Mrs. Reynolds so much. How is this going to help get her back in the library?”

Justine looked at all the kids. “I was told no one important will listen to one kid. So I thought if we had more than one kid, people will listen.” Justine grinned. “Did I forget to tell you that a reporter from the town paper is coming to do a story about us for the front page?”

Chapter Eight

Before the bell rang the next morning, Safdar and Justine stood in front of their lockers. They were wearing their Pooper Scooper T-shirts.

“My mom made a Pooper Scooper Facebook page for us last night,” Safdar said. “She posted all the facts about how dog poop is bad for the environment on it. It also explains how much we need Mrs. Reynolds back. My mom posted Mr. Ripley's phone number there too, so people could call him. She already has one thousand Likes. People think it's great that kids are trying to clean up the park. She says all her friends are talking about it.”

Safdar opened his backpack. “I spent some time on my own computer too. I made some posters.” He pulled one out. The poster said,
Buy a Pooper Scooper
T-shirt. All profits go toward the Poop Power project.

At the bottom of the poster, it said,
Help us get our
librarian back. What's next, taking gym teachers out of
the gym?

There was also a photo of Mr. Ripley and the dog poop on his shoe. The school board's phone number was there for parents to call. And the school's email address was on it for people to order a T-shirt.

“My mom and dad emailed this to all their friends,” said Safdar. “They asked their friends to email it to as many people as possible.”

“Thank you, Safdar,” Justine said.

Michael hurried down the hallway toward them.

He had his Pooper Scooper T-shirt on too.

“Hey!” Michael held up a newspaper. “Look at this headline.
School Official Cares More About Poop
Than Kids' Literacy.
” The front page showed a photo of Michael and Safdar in the park, wearing their T-shirts with the picture of Mr. Ripley pointing at his shoe.

“What does it say?” Justine asked.

“Here, let's have a look,” said Michael.

A small army of concerned students swarmed the park
yesterday in a massive cleanup project to help keep it
clean and safe for kids. Project leader, Justine McKeen,
said she was inspired after a visit to the school board
office, where she was told it was more important to deal
with the poop problem outside the superintendent's office
than worry about the loss of her school librarian due to
budget cuts.

“Our teachers already are given so much work to
do in the classroom. We really need our librarian to
help with getting kids excited about reading,” Justine
said. “We also need her to help us learn how to find
information. The Internet is confusing and sometimes
dangerous. I don't know why the superintendent took our librarian away. What's next? Is he going to get rid
of our gym teacher and send us to the gym by ourselves?
That's no different than taking away our librarian,
Mrs. Reynolds.”

When Justine, Safdar and Michael finished reading the paper, they gave each other high fives. But their grins faded when the
PA
system came on and they heard, “Justine McKeen, please report to the office immediately.”

Chapter Nine

When Justine got to the office, Jimmy Blatzo was waiting for her. He had his Pooper Scooper T-shirt on.

“I'm not letting you get into trouble by yourself,” he said.

Michael and Safdar showed up too.

“Hang on,” Michael said. “You are not going in there alone.”

Safdar looked at Jimmy Blatzo. “That's okay?”

“Good to see you guys,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “Let's get this over with.”

They entered the principal's office. The principal, Ms. Booth, sat behind her desk. They lined up in front of her.

“Strange,” Ms. Booth said. “And here I thought I called only for Justine.”

“We are in this together,” Michael said. “See our T-shirts?”

The school secretary knocked on the open door. “Ms. Booth, there's a bunch of kids out here. All of them are wearing Pooper Scooper T-shirts. They said if Justine McKeen is in trouble, then they are too.”

Ms. Booth put her face in her hands. When she lifted her head, she said, “I don't have enough room in here. Please take them to the library. Tell them to wait for me.”

Ms. Booth held up the paper. “Do you see this headline?
School Official Cares More About Poop Than
Kids' Literacy
.”

“Yes,” Safdar said. “My eyesight is good. I had a checkup last week and—”

Blatzo elbowed Safdar. “She didn't mean it like that.”

Ms. Booth put her face in her hands again. Then she looked at Justine. “Let me guess. The Pooper Scooper Club was your idea.”

“The school supported a walking school bus, right?” Justine said. “From that I learned we can make a difference by working together. So I thought if the whole town got involved, maybe we could get Mrs. Reynolds back in the library.”

“We miss her,” Jimmy Blatzo said.

“So you made sure everyone in town saw a photo of Mr. Ripley pointing at dog poop on his shoe?” Ms. Booth asked.

“There was poop all over the park across from the school board office. He told me to solve that problem instead of the librarian problem. So I listened. The dog poop is a big problem.”

“Justine,” Ms. Booth said, “do you see that because the T-shirt says
Stop the Poop at the School Board
Office
, some people think that means Mr. Ripley is full of poop? Not that there is too much dog poop in Central Park?”

“I wish I could lie to you,” Justine said. “But that did occur to me.”

Ms. Booth sighed. “Some people think the T-shirt is disrespectful.” Ms. Booth sighed again. “Some people think it's funny. I do wish Mrs. Reynolds was back in the library.”

“Well,” Justine said, “Mrs. Reynolds said if enough parents cared, maybe that would change Mr. Ripley's mind.”

“I have good news for you,” Ms. Booth said. “This morning, two hundred parents sent emails asking if they could buy a Pooper Scooper T-shirt. Most of those emails also ask why the school doesn't have a librarian. Why are parents sending emails to the school to order T-shirts?”

Safdar coughed. “Ms. Booth, I wish I could lie to you. But maybe, just maybe, somebody made a flyer that has the school's email address on it. Maybe that student's name was Safdar.”

“Yes, Safdar,” Ms. Booth said. “I've seen the flyer. Next time, you need to ask to use the school's email address, okay? Or at least make sure you don't put your name on the bottom of the flyer as the person who made it.”

Ms. Booth stood. “What am I going to do with you all?”

Nobody spoke.

“Mr. Ripley has the answer,” Ms. Booth said. “I called you to my office because he wants to speak to you in the library.”

Chapter Ten

Mr. Ripley was waiting in the library. He had on his blue suit, a blue shirt and a blue tie. The Pooper Scoopers were all wearing their T-shirts with the photo of Mr. Ripley pointing at the poop on his shoe.

“Please sit, everybody,” Ms. Booth said to the students. “Mr. Ripley would like to speak to you.”

Ms. Booth stepped to the side as all the students moved toward the study tables.

Mr. Ripley frowned at Justine McKeen. “Because of your article, I've had dozens and dozens of calls from parents. They think I am going to pull coaches and teachers from school gyms. Parents want to know what I'm going to do to stop the poop at the school board office. The parents were laughing.”