Mrs. Jewls stared at the eighteen inches she held in her hand. “Oh my goodness,” she said. “I’m sorry, Todd. I don’t know what’s the matter with me today. I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
She put a check next to her name under the word DISCIPLINE.
“Okay, let me try to make this very simple,” she said. “If I have seven cucumbers. And then I get four more cucumbers. And then I drop all the cucumbers in brine and take them to the capital of England. What do I have? How many? And where am I?”
“Huh?” said D.J.
“What?” asked John.
“Could you write the question on the board, please?” asked Rondi.
“Shut up!” Mrs. Jewls yelled a third time. In a mocking voice she said, “ ‘Could you write the question on the board, please?’ You kids think you are so cute! Well, we’ll see just how cute you really are.” She picked up the vat of brine from her desk. “How would you like it if I poured this on your heads? You won’t be so cute when you’re all shriveled up and covered with warts, like pickles!”
She walked up and down the aisles carrying the pickle juice and glaring at the children.
No one dared make a sound.
She stopped next to Leslie. “How about you, Leslie?” she asked. “How would you like pickled pigtails?”
Leslie trembled. Her pigtails wiggled.
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“Well, I’m going to ask you three questions, Leslie,” said Mrs. Jewls. “And if you don’t answer them all correctly, I’m going to dump this on your head.”
Leslie gulped.
“Question one,” said Mrs. Jewls. “How much is seven plus four?”
Leslie quickly tried to count on her fingers but she didn’t have enough. “Eleven?” she guessed.
A look off disappointment came over Mrs. Jewls’s face. “Okay, question two: What is the capital of England?”
“L-London,” Leslie said nervously.
“Rats!” said Mrs. Jewls. “Okay, question three.” She looked down at the vat of brine she was holding and shook her head. She thought a moment, then smiled. “What is the name of my cousin who lives in Vermont?”
Leslie had no idea, so she just had to take a wild guess. She closed her eyes and said, “Fred Jewls?”
“Wrong!” exclaimed Mrs. Jewls. She raised the vat of brine high above Leslie’s head and started to tip it over.
Paul jumped out of his seat. Those pigtails had once saved his life. Now it was his turn to return the favor!
He pushed the vat of brine back the other way. He was just trying to push it up straight, but he pushed too hard. It poured all over Mrs. Jewls, drenching her.
Paul froze in terror.
Mrs. Jewls blinked her eyes. Pickle juice dripped down her face. “Thanks, Paul,” she said. “I needed that.”
The brine had cured her.
She circled her name on the blackboard and sent herself home early on the kindergarten bus.
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