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

“How about oranges?” suggested Mr. Pepperadder.

“Too obvious,” said Miss Mush.

“Carrots?”

“I suppose . . .” said Miss Mush, although carrots didn’t feel right to her.

Inspiration struck! “Eighteen pumpkins!” she exclaimed.

Each pumpkin made a giant splash, as Miss Mush and Mr. Pepperadder took turns tossing them into the pot.

After all the pumpkins were added to the stew, a tiny smile crept across Miss Mush’s face.

It was a smile that all great artists know well. After years of self-doubt, she started to believe that she was on the verge of creating something truly wonderful.

But it was just a quick smile, and then back to work!

The doubts always return.

The lunch bell kaboinked, and the children descended upon the cafeteria.

“Rainbow Stew,” said Benjamin. “It sounds like it could be good.”

“Don’t let the name fool you,” warned Todd. “The better the name, the worse it tastes.”

“Remember when she made ‘Midnight Madness’?” asked Paul.

“Don’t even say it!” snapped Leslie. “I was up all night, running around in circles.”

Miss Mush and Mr. Pepperadder stood shoulder to shoulder as the children lined up. They had finished the stew only moments before.

“I hope they like it,” Miss Mush whispered.

“They will,” Mr. Pepperadder assured her. He wore short pants, black socks, and no shoes.

Miss Mush hoped he was right, but all her doubts had returned. Her apron was splotched with lots of bright colors, but the rainbow stew looked like lumpy grayish-brown mud.

She didn’t understand it. What had happened to all the colors?

Maurecia reached the front of the line. Miss Mush scooped some rainbow stew into a

bowl and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Miss Mush,” said Maurecia, always polite.

“Sorry, it was supposed to be a bit more colorful,” explained Miss Mush. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

Joy was next.

“Sorry,” Miss Mush said again as she handed a bowl to Joy.

“Sorry, Ron,” she said. “Sorry, Deedee. Sorry, Joe. Sorry, John. Sorry, sorry, sorry. . . .”

Allison and Rondi sat at one end of a long table. “Are you going to eat it?” Rondi asked Allison.

“I have a tangerine in my pocket,” said Allison. “Maybe I’ll just eat that.”

Rondi watched as Allison slowly removed the entire peel in just one piece.