CHAPTER TWO - What Do You Think of Science?
A few minutes later I was sitting in my science class, wishing the day was over. This had been the worst first day of school possible. Why did summer vacation have to end? Why couldn’t it be nine months long, and school just three months?
The only good thing about today was that this was my sixth out of eight classes, and the school day was nearing an end. Too bad I now had to suffer through an hour of science, which was one of my least favorite subjects. Why did they ever have to invent it?
The bell hadn’t rung yet, and kids were still coming into the room. Donny Poindexter came in and sneered at me as he took a seat next to mine. He was followed by Sam Bowly, a greasy kid I knew from last year. After that was Heidi Kirchner, who liked to yank people’s backpacks off in the hall. This was going to be a fun class.
The bell finally rang. The new teacher was nowhere in sight. Looking around me I saw there were 21 other kids in the class. The ones I knew all had bad reputations, or were school outcasts, geeks and nobodies. The ones I didn’t know all looked like they had bad reputations or were school outcasts, geeks and nobodies. Not one of them looked happy to be there. Boy, this REALLY was going to be a fun class. I pulled out Grandpa’s pocket watch and started to twirl it around.
A man suddenly entered the room. It was that same weird guy from the hall, with the long grey beard, bushy eyebrows and mud puddle eyes! His grey suit that looked lumpy and old.
“Good morning class,” he said, even though it wasn’t morning. “I’m happy to see you all so enthusiastic for our first lesson.”
No one answered him. We looked about as enthusiastic as a bunch of sleeping turtles.
He smiled at us all, and I could see that what I'd noticed when I first saw him in the hall a few minutes ago was true--his teeth looked as gray as his beard. “I think we’ll start with a few questions. Mr. Poindexter, you first.”
Mr. Marlin was looking right at Donny, who nearly fell out of his chair. How had Mr. Marlin known his name? None of our other teachers knew our names!
“My question, Mr. Poindexter, is this,” said Mr. Marlin, turning to the whiteboard. “I want you to tell me exactly what you think of science, so I can write it down. Go ahead.”
Donny hesitated, obviously confused. Anybody with brains would know that when a teacher asked something like that, he had to answer by saying something silly about how much he liked science, even though he didn’t. If he were to say what he REALLY thought of it, he’d probably be expelled for using bad language.
But it was unclear whether Donny had enough brains to figure that out.
“Uh, well …” he stammered after a minute. “Science is … uh … nice.”
It looked like he did have enough brains, after all.
Mr. Marlin had been standing with his back to us, his hand ready to write down Donny’s answer on the board. For a second, he didn’t move. Then he slowly turned around and looked at Donny with a gaze that would have melted granite.
“Nice?” he repeated in an icy voice. “You honestly think that science is nice?”
Donny shrank down in his chair. Some kids in the class chuckled. The rest of us smiled, happy to see Donny being put in his place. It was a rare sight.
“Yes, sir,” said Donny glumly. “It’s nice.”
Mr. Marlin gazed at Donny for a moment, then smiled slowly. It wasn’t a mean smile, but it wasn’t a friendly one either. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, in a way that made you think of the Grand Canyon.
“Now, Mr. Poindexter,” said Mr. Marlin slowly. “I happen to know that you enjoy teasing your fellow students, just for fun. I know that you put spaghetti on the chair of Mrs. Yardley, the school counselor, right before she sat down today at lunch. She has gone around since then with a big red stain on her dress.”
Several kids laughed, but most of us stared, wide-eyed. How had he known Donny did that? Most of us had seen the dress, but didn’t know that Donny was the one who did it.
Poor Donny was so red in the face he looked like Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer.
“And,” continued Mr. Marlin, “I know that your favorite thing to do when you get home from school is to take a sling shot and roam through your neighborhood, looking for cats and dogs to shoot.”
Donny slumped down further in his chair. The rest of us stared with even wider eyes.
“Knowing all this,” said Mr. Marlin casually, as if everyone knew it somehow, “I also know that you do NOT think that science is nice.”
He turned back to the whiteboard. “Now,” he said firmly. “Once more, Mr. Poindexter. Tell me EXACTLY what you think of science.”
Poor Donny looked stricken, as if he had just found out he drank a soda someone had spit into. Finally he stammered in a voice you could hardly hear, “I think science is stupid.”
The classroom was deathly silent. Donny had just broken the unwritten law of school. You should NEVER tell a teacher that what he teaches is stupid.
“Excellent!” cried Mr. Marlin, writing the word ‘STUPID’ on the board. “Well done. I happen to know that is exactly what you think of science.”
He turned suddenly to Sam Bowly. “What do YOU think of science, Mr. Bowly?”
Sam jumped as if he had been stung. He looked at Mr. Marlin as if he were in pain, then said softly in his greasy voice, “I think the same as Poindexter.”
“Excellent!” said Mr. Marlin, turning to write the word ‘STUPID’ again on the board. “And how about you, Mr. Drywater?”
I suddenly felt like throwing up. I tried to open my mouth, but it didn’t seem to work right. My mouth really DID feel like it was drywater. Grandpa's watch had been sitting idly in my hands, but now I started twirling it furiously.
Mr. Marlin turned to look at me. His gaze seemed to see right through me, as if he could read everything in my brain like it was written in a book.
What was I to do? If I said science was stupid (which is what I secretly felt), I might end up in the principal’s office with Poindexter and Bowly. After all, I knew that some teachers were weird and couldn't be trusted. Maybe Mr. Marlin was toying with us, trying to trap us.
But if I said science was ‘nice,’ or something silly like that, then Sam and Donny would look bad. Then they’d probably want to have a little ‘talk’ with me about it after class.
I decided to go with stupid. After all, wasn’t honesty the best policy? “I think that Donny and Sam are right,” I squeaked at last. My watch was moving so fast, it was just a gold blur.
“Excellent!” said Mr. Marlin, turning back to the board and writing the word ‘STUPID’ again.
Everyone in class was looking around at each other, smiling, not knowing what to think. This was weird.
“Is there anyone here who has a different opinion of science than Mr. Poindexter, Mr. Bowly and Mr. Drywater?” said Mr. Marlin. No one moved or said a word.
“Excellent!” said Mr. Marlin. He turned and wrote the word ‘STUPID’ on the whiteboard 19 more times. Then he turned to look at us.
“I suppose,” he said slowly, “that what you’re all thinking right now is that I am going to tell you that you’re wrong, that science is wonderful, and that this year in school I will show you that science is anything but stupid. But secretly, you won’t believe me, will you? And you don’t plan to change your opinion of science no matter what I say. Isn’t that so?”
No one answered. That’s exactly what we had all been thinking.
“Well, you’re wrong!” said Mr. Marlin firmly. He walked slowly and deliberately to the back of the room, where he pulled some pieces of lint out of his lumpy suit pocket, and dropped them on the floor. Then he removed a pencil from behind his ear, and pointed it at the whiteboard. “I am now going to write on the board exactly what I think of science.” He pointed at the whiteboard with his pencil.
We had all been looking at him. Now, when we looked back at the board, we were shocked to see that all 22 STUPIDs had disappeared. And w
hile we watched with eyes so big it looked like they would pop out of our heads, the following words appeared magically on the whiteboard, somehow written by Mr. Marlin with his pencil from the back of the room:
I think science is DANGEROUS!