The Ghost of Fossil Glen Read Online Free PDF Page B

interesting.” Then she sauntered over to her desk as Mr. Henry turned the lights off, then back on, the signal for everyone to stop talking and sit down.
    Allie sat at her desk, all the pleasure of showing her fossil draining away.
    When the class was quiet, Mr. Henry smiled and said, “Before we head over to the cemetery, I’d like to collect your journals, so would you please pass them forward?” He continued talking while desktops and backpacks were opened, and journals were retrieved and passed forward. “I’ll read these tonight and return them to you tomorrow. Any problems or questions about journals before we go?”
    Joey Fratto raised his hand. “I forgot mine,” he said.
    Mr. Henry thumped his forehead with his palm in mock despair. “Joey, Joey, Joey, how many times have we talked about this?” He paused. “You’ll bring it tomorrow?”
    Joey nodded.
    â€œWithout fail?”
    Joey smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.”
    Mr. Henry made his face very stern, but everyone in the class knew he was only pretending to be mad. “ Or else . And you don’t want to find out what I mean by that, do you?”
    Joey shook his head. He was grinning, but Allie was willing to bet that Joey would remember his journal the next day. Mr. Henry had a way of getting kids to follow the rules without making a big deal about it.
    â€œAnyone else?” Mr. Henry asked.
    Karen raised her hand. “You said nobody is going to read them except you, right?”
    â€œClass, we all took the oath of secrecy, didn’t we?” said Mr. Henry.
    â€œYes,” everyone chorused.
    â€œSo your journals are safe in this room,” said Mr. Henry. “And they’ll be safe at my house as well, because Hoover is much more interested in chewing up pillows and drinking out of the toilet bowl than in reading journals. Okay?”
    Several kids laughed, and Karen looked satisfied. Hoover was Mr. Henry’s golden retriever. Mr. Henry told stories about her all the time, and even brought her to school sometimes. She was the official class mascot.
    Mr. Henry was young and unmarried and, Allie thought, handsome. The kids were always trying to worm information out of him about his girlfriend. He always answered by saying, “Ah, you mean Miss Hoover,” and began recounting one of his dog’s latest misdeeds or amazing accomplishments.
    He’d told them, for instance, that, the week before, she had dug up his neighbor’s entire flower garden and proudly presented Mr. Henry with the prize she’d been seeking: an old cow bone. She had been named after the Hoover vacuum cleaner, because she’d sucked up a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese when she was a mere seven weeks old.
    â€œAll right,” said Mr. Henry, rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation. “Let’s get going. Will the team captains please come up front?”
    Five students, including Karen, went to the front of the room.
    â€œTrash captain?”
    Julie Horwitz stepped forward.
    â€œAll trash collectors, raise your hands.”
    The four members of Julie’s team raised their hands. Mr. Henry ran through each team to make sure everyone knew what to do.
    There was a team in charge of removing fallen leaves and twigs. The debris would be carried to the school grounds, where the class, as another project, was going to create a compost pile.
    There was a team to prepare a new flower bed along the cemetery fence, and another to plant and water the flowers. The biggest team was Karen’s. Allie was on it, along with Pam, Dub, Joey Fratto, and Brad Lewis. They were in charge of clearing dirt and overgrowth from the graves, and cleaning and straightening the headstones.
    â€œOkay,” said Mr. Henry. “Let’s go. And remember how we talked about acting respectful when you’re in the cemetery.”
    â€œWe don’t want to stir up any ghosts,”