Justine McKeen, Walk the Talk by Sigmund Brouwer Page A

again.” Jimmy Blatzo shook his head. “I have to get going. You’ve got the same substitute teacher my class had last week. He is a jerk. I don’t want him to know I’m in the hallway.”

    â€œHow come?” Michael asked.
    â€œLook, kid, did I give you permission to talk to me?” Blatzo asked.
    â€œUm, no,” said Michael.
    â€œThen don’t talk to me,” said Jimmy Blatzo.
    â€œGot it,” Michael said.
    â€œThat’s still talking,” Jimmy Blatzo said.
    Michael silently mouthed the word Sorry .
    â€œMuch better,” Jimmy Blatzo said.
    â€œHey, Blatzo,” Justine said. “What’s the deal with the substitute teacher? Why don’t you want him to know you’re in the hallway?”
    â€œYou’ll find out,” Jimmy Blatzo told her. “And quit calling me Blatzo.”
    â€œSure.” Justine walked toward her classroom. Then she turned back. “Hey, Blatzo. What do you think of my hat?”
    â€œA bird,” he said. “You always dress weird.”
    â€œThanks for the compliment,” she said. “I like it too.”

Chapter Three
    The substitute teacher’s name was Mr. Barnes. He was tall and skinny and had long stringy hair. He wore a black T-shirt with the name of a rock band on it.
    The bell rang, and all the students sat down. Mr. Barnes sat behind his desk. He pointed at Justine. “Put your hat in a cage before it flies away,” he said.
    Justine put her hat under her desk.
    â€œThat was funny,” he said to the class. “Why aren’t you laughing?”
    â€œShe is our friend,” Safdar said. “It’s not nice to make fun of the way she dresses.”
    Mr. Barnes stood. He glared at Safdar. “What is your name?”

    â€œMichael,” Safdar said. “If you have to put a red mark beside my name, I will understand.”
    Now the class laughed.
    That made Mr. Barnes angrier. “What’s so funny?”
    Michael put up his hand. “I am Michael.”
    â€œHah, hah,” Mr. Barnes said. “Sure. Very funny.”
    Mr. Barnes sat down and opened a newspaper. “It is silent reading time. Yesterday you read chapter one. Today read chapter two. And keep quiet.”
    Then Mr. Barnes made a loud noise. It was the kind of noise that happens when a person’s body lets out some gas. It was an F-A-R-T-I-N-G noise.
    The class started laughing again.
    â€œEnough!” Mr. Barnes said.
    As soon as the class was quiet, Mr. Barnes made the same noise, an F-A-R-T-I-N-G noise, except in a higher pitch. It sounded like someone had stepped on a duck.
    The class laughed louder.
    â€œEnough!” Mr. Barnes roared. He reached under his chair and pulled out a small machine with a tiny speaker. It had been taped under his seat. He looked at it, and it made another loud, rude noise, an F-A-R-T-I-N-G noise.
    On the side of the machine, white letters spelled two words: Farting Machine .
    â€œWhoever did this is going straight to the principal,” he yelled at the class. “Otherwise, everyone in the class has extra homework.”
    Justine McKeen stood up. She put on her hat. “You can send me to the principal,” she said.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Mr. Barnes asked.
    â€œJustine McKeen,” she said.
    â€œThe Queen of Green!” said Safdar.
    â€œWell, now she’s the Queen of In Trouble With the Principal. Go to the office right now. I will be there in a minute to explain what happened.”

Chapter Four
    Justine sat on a chair outside the open door to the principal’s office. She heard the janitor, Mr. Noble, talking to the principal.
    â€œMs. Booth, I have a problem. In this school there are girls who put on lipstick and then kiss the mirrors in the girls’ bathrooms,” Mr. Noble said. “They leave big smooch marks on the mirrors.”
    â€œSmooch marks?” Ms. Booth said.
    â€œSmooch marks.