Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom (Wayside School 4)

“Any better?” Dr. P.

“I bit my tongue,” Mr. K said without moving his lips.

“Hmm, this will be more difficult than I thought,” said Dr. P. He returned to the bookshelf, chose a different book, and brought it to his desk. He thumbed through the pages. “Cold feet . . . sticky fingers . . . ah, here we are, stuck face!”

He silently read to himself for a minute or two, then looked up and asked, “Did you have a pet when you were a child?”

Mr. K nodded.

Dr. P looked back at his book and read some more.

“A cat?”

Mr. K shook his head.

“A dog?”

He nodded.

“Did you love your dog?”

Mr. K’s head didn’t move at all. A tear trickled out of his eye and dripped down his face.

“Excellent!” declared Dr. P. “I think we’re making real progress.”

He shut the book, scooted his chair up close, and leaned toward Mr. K. “Look into my eyes,” he said.

With his one eye, Mr. K stared at Dr. P.

Dr. P stared back.

He held up a gold chain with a green stone attached. He let the stone swing gently back and forth between them. Their faces were so close, the stone kept barely missing their noses.

“I’m going to take you back to another time and place,” said Dr. P. “You are just a young boy, playing with your dog in your backyard. Your grandmother smiles from the kitchen window. A pie is baking in the oven. You can smell cinnamon.”

Mr. K’s nose twitched.

“Now your grandmother is outside, holding the pie. She asks if you want some.”

Mr. K’s tongue remained sticking out. However, it slowly moved from one side of his mouth to the other.

Dr. P noted the breakthrough.

“But instead of giving you a piece of pie,” he said, “she smashes it in your face!”

Mr. K’s mouth popped open. Then his face snapped back into place.

His eyebrow lowered. His eye opened. His cheek unpuffed. His tongue went back inside where it belonged.

“Why did she do that to me?” he cried.

Dr. P handed him a tissue.

Mr. K wiped his eyes, and then cleaned the imaginary pie off his face. He stood and straightened his suit.

“You won’t tell anybody anything about this, will you?” he asked.

“Everything that happens inside this office is strictly confidential,” Dr. P assured him.