Table Of ContentOTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY: HARRIS AND ME, Gary Paulsen
THE HAYMEADOW, Gary Paulsen
THE COOKCAMP, Gary Paulsen
THE VOYAGE OF THE FROG, Gary Paulsen
THE BOY WHO OWNED THE SCHOOL, Gary Paulsen
THE RIVER, Gary Paulsen
THE MONUMENT, Gary Paulsen
THE WINTER ROOM, Gary Paulsen
HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell
YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia
Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount
College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a
Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra
University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author
of numerous books for young readers.
For a complete listing of all Yearling titles, write to Dell Readers Service,
P.O. Box 1045, South Holland, IL 60473.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1995 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where
permitted by law.
The trademarks Yearling® and Dell® are registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and
in other countries.
eISBN: 978-0-30780387-0
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Amos Binder was standing in his bathroom as his best friend for life,
Duncan—Dunc—Culpepper wrapped the third roll of gauze bandage
around his head.
“Ouch! You’ve got it too tight.” Amos tried to get a look at himself in
the mirror. “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little? I already look
like a reject from a bad Egyptian movie.”
Dunc frowned. “Hold still. I’m practicing my half-hitch, four-tail
triangular wrap. Lucky for you I just learned it in health class last week.”
“Yeah. Real lucky. Maybe next time I could wind up in traction, and
then you could really have fun.”
“The manager at Peterson’s department store said there better not be a
next time. In fact, he said he never wanted to see you anywhere near the
store again.” Dunc tied a double knot on the top of Amos’s head and
pulled it tight. “It was all I could do to keep him from calling the
police.”
“You didn’t have to tell him I had just come out of brain surgery and
the anesthetic hadn’t worn off yet.”
Dunc shrugged. “It was the only thing I could come up with on short
notice. Maybe you had a better story for explaining why one side of your
face got mashed inside the cash register at the service desk?”
“How about the truth?” Amos pulled the bandage apart near his left
eye so he could get a better look at himself. “It’s not a crime for a guy to
answer a telephone page. I would have made it, too, if I hadn’t landed
on that roller skate when I jumped over the counter. How was I
supposed to know that I would slide headfirst into the cashier’s drawer
at the exact moment she tried to close it? It could have happened to
anybody.”
Dunc carefully rolled up the unused gauze and put it in the medicine
cabinet. “I heard that page, too, remember? They said there was a
telephone call for a Mr. Walter Kolwoski.”
“Kolwoski and Binder are very close. They both have ‘i’s in them.
Besides, I was expecting a call from Melissa about our field trip to the
Monkey Farm tomorrow.”
Amos had decided a long time ago that there was only one girl in the
whole world for him. Her name was Melissa Hansen. He was positive
that deep down she really loved him, too, but she just hadn’t managed to
get around to telling him yet. Every time the telephone rang, he was sure
it was her calling to tell him that she had finally come to her senses.
Dunc sighed. “Amos, Melissa doesn’t even know your name. And
besides, it’s not a Monkey Farm, it’s called the Center for Understanding
Primate Intelligence Development. You know, monkeys reading and
counting, that sort of thing. They call it C.U.P.I.D. for short.”
A dreamy, faraway look stole into Amos’s eyes. “A perfect spot for our
first rendezvous. You know how it works in the movies, Dunc. Fate
throws two people together and bingo—they start looking for a house.”
“Fate isn’t throwing you two together. Mrs. Burnbottom, our science
teacher, is. She said we either had to go on the field trip tomorrow or
stay at school and write a fifty-page essay on the complete circulatory
system of the adult acorn worm.”
“Whatever.” Amos waved his hand. “The point is we’ll be together.”
“Not really. There will be at least a hundred other kids out there, not
counting Mrs. Burnbottom.”
“Details.” Amos studied himself in the mirror. “Do you think my face
will be normal by tomorrow?”
“No. But I don’t think it will matter much. Mrs. Burnbottom put us all
into study groups.” Dunc opened the bathroom door and walked across
the hall. “You and I are in the same group … along with Herman
Snodgrass and Agnes Dorfmyer.”
Amos’s shoulders slumped. “How could this happen?” He followed
Dunc across the hall. “Maybe I’ll stay at school and write the report.”
“Why?” Dunc sat down at his desk. “I hear this C.U.P.I.D. place is
kinda neat. You could be missing out.”
Amos made a face. “Herman Snodgrass eats boogers, and Agnes
Dorfmyer, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer to be within a hundred
miles of her if we were the last two people on earth.”
A smile tugged at the side of Dunc’s face. He tried not to let Amos see
it. “I heard around school that Agnes really has a thing for you. Tony
Davis said that yesterday she chased you all the way down the main hall.
He said she would have caught you, but you ducked into the boys’ locker
room.”
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m definitely writing the report.”
“But what about Melissa?”
Amos folded his arms. “Nothing you can say will convince me to go
now. Melissa’s just going to have to be disappointed.”
Amos slid down in the bus seat. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into
this. I’m beginning to wish I still had those bandages on. Is she still
waving?”
Dunc looked back. Agnes Dorfmyer gave him a toothy grin. She was
bouncing up and down in the seat and pointing at Amos. “Yeah. I think
she wants to talk to you.”
“I may kill you.” Amos sank lower in the seat. “Whatever you
promised me—it’s not worth it.”
“I didn’t promise you anything. All I said was that my mom was
having a tea for her garden club on Saturday and that Melissa Hansen
and her mother were invited.”
“You’re forgetting the part where you said that if I came with you on
this field trip, you’d fix it so I could go to the tea too.”
“Oh, right.”
Amos grabbed his arm. “You are going to fix it, aren’t you?”
The bus went through a tall chain-link gate with barbed wire on top
and stopped in front of a large brown building. There were several
buildings around with people wearing white coats and carrying
clipboards walking in and out of them. One was even carrying a monkey
with a diaper on.
Dunc sat up to get a better look. “We’re here, Amos.”
Amos pulled one side of his coat over his face. “You go ahead without
me. I’ll just sit here and concentrate on being invisible.”
“Binder!”
Amos heard his name and jerked to attention. He looked up into the
fiery eyes of Mrs. Burnbottom. She was standing over him glaring and
shaking a long, bony finger in his face.
“Straighten up and fly right, Binder.”
“Yes ma’am.” Amos thought about asking her if she really thought it
was physically possible for him to do that, but decided that right now
might not be the best time.
Mrs. Burnbottom moved to the front. “All right, students, listen up.
When we get off the bus, find your study group immediately. Stay with
your group until the tour is completed. Do you understand?”
There was a small chorus of “Yes, Mrs. Burnbottom.” The aisle started
filling with students trying to get off the bus.
“Come on, Amos.” Dunc pulled him to his feet. “It won’t hurt you to
take a look around. You might even learn something.”
“I’ve already learned something.”
“What’s that?”
Amos looked out the window. Agnes was still smiling at him, and
Herman Snodgrass was standing by the bus with his finger up his nose.
“Never listen to you!”
