The Candy Corn Contest (4 page)

“Good idea,” Noah said.

“Nobody will get wet that way,” Timothy said.

Richard followed them into the gym. How was he going to tell Mat-thew he had to sleep behind the TV?

The bell rang. Suddenly he remembered the Candy Corn jar.

It was too late to change the number. He'd do it tomor-row.

He hoped nobody would win before then.

It was guessing time.

Emily Arrow had four guesses.

Dawn Bosco and Wayne had seven.

Timothy Barbiero had twenty-one.

“How many guesses do you have?” Matthew asked Richard.

Richard felt his new tooth. It was getting bigger.

Matthew turned and poked him. “I said—”

“One,” Richard said. “One guess.”

“Luckier than me,” Matthew said. “I don't even have one.”

Richard looked at Matthew. Suddenly he wanted to hit Matthew right on his fat nose.

Matthew was spoiling his whole Thanksgiving sleep-over party.

Emily Arrow leaned over the jar. “Nine hundred one,” she said.

Ms. Rooney shook her head.

“Nine forty-two.”

Ms. Rooney shook her head.

Emily stared at the jar. She counted a little bit. “Six hun-dred sixty-eleven.”

Ms. Rooney smiled. “No such number, Emily.”

Richard held his breath.

Emily looked down at her red sneakers. “Three hun-dred,” she said slowly, “forty-eight … no, nine. Three hundred forty-nine.”

“Sorry, Emily,” said Ms. Rooney.

Richard crossed his fingers. Suppose someone won before he changed the number?

Matthew poked him again. “I hope you win, Beast,” he said. “I have all my fingers crossed. And all my toes.”

“Me too,” Richard said.

Timothy Barbiero was getting ready to guess.

He looked as if he were thinking very hard.

Too hard, Richard thought. Twenty-one guesses were a lot.

Timothy started his guesses.

Everyone in the class looked worried.

But Timothy was wrong.

Matthew smiled at Richard.

At last it was Richard's turn. “Richard Best,” said Ms. Rooney. “One guess.”

4One guess,” Dawn Bosco said. “That's all.”

Timothy Barbiero started to laugh a little.

“You need only one guess to win,” Matthew said.

“That's right,” said Ms. Rooney.

Richard swallowed hard. Should he say seven hundred? Should he say nine hundred?

He took a deep breath. “Four hundred,” he said. He watched Ms. Rooney's face.

She started to shake her head.

“And sixty,” Richard added.

“I'm sorry,” Ms. Rooney said.

“Sixty-two,” Richard said.

Ms. Rooney tapped the top of the jar. “I'll give you a hint. Everyone is guessing too many.”

Richard sighed. He should have guessed three hundred.

Everyone opened his book. Everyone wanted to read as fast as he could.

Richard wanted to read too. But he couldn't stop thinking about his sleep-over.

He took out a piece of drawing paper. He drew a circle for a head. He made a long balloon body. Then he put stick-out ears on the circle.

It looked like Matthew.

It made Richard angry to look at it.

Matthew was spoiling the whole sleep-over.

Richard was sick of sitting in back of Matthew.

He was sick of smelling him all day long.

He took a black crayon out of his desk. Then he drew a big
X
over the boy in his drawing.

He'd like to draw a big
X
over Matthew.

“Hold up your apples,1' Ms. Rooney said the next day.

Richard looked around. Emily Arrow had a big red apple in her hand. Wayne had a yellow one.

Everyone was going to make applesauce.

Everyone but Richard.

He slid down in his seat.

“I don't see your apple,” Ms. Rooney said.

“I left it home,” he said.

Matthew turned around. He was holding a greenish apple. “You can have half of mine,” he said.

Richard made a face. He didn't want to share Mat-thew's apple. Matthew's wet-the-bed apple.

Richard reached into his pocket. He pulled out a rubber band. He wound it around his finger until the tip of his pinkie turned purplish red.

Then he remembered someone had said you
could get blood poisoning that way. Maybe you could die.

He took the rubber band off.

“Hey,” Matthew said. “Do you want to share?”

“No, thanks,” he told Matthew. “I don't want your green apple.”

Matthew turned to the front of the room again.

Richard could see that one of Matthew's ears stuck out far-ther than the other.

Right now both of Matthew's ears looked red.

Dawn Bosco raised her hand. “My mother gave me a box of raisins too,” she said. “For the applesauce.”

“That's nice,” Ms. Rooney said.

“That's terrible,” Richard said. He felt a mean feeling inside.

Ms. Rooney put a big pot on her desk. “I have some nice cold water in the pot,” she said. “We'll put the apples in …”

“And the raisins,” Dawn said.

“Yes,” said Ms. Rooney. “And then we'll go

down to the cafeteria. We'll put our applesauce on the stove to cook.”

Everyone rushed up to Ms. Rooney's desk.

Richard went up to the front too. He leaned against the chalk-board.

“Now,” said Ms. Rooney. 'Til cut up the apples.”

Ms. Rooney kept cutting and cutting.

Richard sighed. He leaned on one foot and then on the other. It took a long time to make applesauce.

Dawn Bosco kept saying, “Can I put the raisins in now? Can I?”

“I hate raisins,” Richard said, even though he loved them.

At last Ms. Rooney cut the last apple.

Dawn dumped in the raisins.

Then the class lined up. They went downstairs to the cafete-ria.

Richard looked around. There were a skillion pieces of bread on the counter. The cafeteria lady was putting a little dab of butter on each one of them.

She wiped her hands on her apron. She put the applesauce pot on the stove.

“Let us know when it's ready,” Ms. Rooney said.

The class marched back to the room.

“Reading time,” said Ms. Rooney.

“Shoot,” said Matthew.

Richard and Emily and Alex and Matthew had to go to Room 100. They were extra-help readers.

“Don't worry,” said Ms. Rooney. “Even if the applesauce is ready, we won't eat till you get back.”

“Who cares?” Richard said.

“What's the matter with you today?” Matthew asked.

Richard didn't answer him. He ran his fingers over the bricks in the wall.

Mrs. Paris was waiting. “I heard your class was making applesauce,” she said. “Lucky.”

“Unlucky,” Richard said. “It's probably full of germs.”

“Do you think so?” Emily asked.

“No,” said Mrs. Paris. “When it cooks—”

“Matthew's germs,” Richard said.

“When it cooks,” Mrs. Paris said, “the germs are boiled away.” She frowned at Richard.

Richard looked down at his almost baby reading book. “Not Matthew's,” he said.

“That's not nice,” Alex said.

“You're not so nice either,” Richard said. “I bet you don't want to sleep near Matthew at my sleep-over.”'

“Let's open our books,” said Mrs. Paris.

“I'm reading a lot,” Emily said. “I'm trying to win the Candy Corn contest.”

Richard snorted. “You'll never win.”

Mrs. Paris put her book down. “What's the mat-ter with everyone today?” she asked.

Richard took a quick look at Matthew. Matthew looked as if he were going to cry.

“It's good to tell the truth …” Mrs. Paris began.

“That's what I say,” Alex said.

“But …” Mrs. Paris pushed her eye-glasses
up on her nose. “It is not helpful to talk about people's problems.” She looked around the table. “At least not in front of everyone.”

“That's right,” said Emily.

“When do you think you might talk about some-one's problems?” Mrs. Paris asked.

“Never,” said Emily.

“Never,” Matthew mumbled.

“Well,” said Richard. “Maybe …”

Mrs. Paris stared at him. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe if you could help?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Paris.

“I don't need any help,” said Emily.

“Let's think of a problem,” said Mrs. Paris.

“All right,” said Alex.

“I know one,” Richard said quickly. “I forgot my apple.”

“That's a good problem,” Emily said.

Richard looked down at the table. Suddenly he remembered that Matthew had tried to help.

“That was a problem,” Mrs. Paris said. “How could someone help Richard?”

“Share,” said Emily.

“True,” said Mrs. Paris.

“Not tell him he was terrible,” said Emily.

“True,” said Mrs. Paris again. She looked around at everyone. “When someone has a problem,” she said, “help if you can. But not in front of other people.”

“And shut your mouth if you can't,” said Emily.

“Exactly,” said Mrs. Paris.

Just then the door opened. It was Emily's friend Jill Simon.

“Ms. Rooney said the applesauce is ready,” Jill said.

Mrs. Paris stood up. “Warm applesauce. Wonder-ful.” She looked around at the table. “All right, everyone. You may go back.”

Richard stood up. He didn't feel the mean feeling any-more. It was gone.

He felt worse now. He had a terrible feeling inside. He knew Mat-thew was still crying a little.

He wanted to cry too. He wanted to tell Matthew he was sorry.

He turned around to tell Matthew.

But Mrs, Paris was talking. “Will you erase the blackboard for me, Matthew?” she asked. “It will only take a min-ute.”

“Sure,” Matthew said.

Everyone else went back to the classroom.

Ms. Rooney gave out the applesauce.

But Richard had a lump in his throat. He knew he'd never be able to swallow. “No, thank you,” he told Ms. Rooney.

Matthew came in a minute later. He told Ms. Rooney no, thank you too.

Richard tore up his
X
picture of Matthew. He was sorry he had ever drawn it.