Justin Case: Rules, Tools, and Maybe a Bully Excerpt

7/22/2019 Justin Case: Rules, Tools, and Maybe a Bully Excerpt

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FEIWEL AND FRIENDS

New York


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September 1, Wednesday

I figured it out before I even opened my eyes.

I was half awake but still lying still,

wondering why it felt like in my heart there was

a kind of fighting.

And then, suddenly, my eyes opened

because I knew:

September.

It was back.

1

September 2, Thursday

In our family we have a lot of rules. Like Share.Thats a

biggie.

But now it turns out that Dont take Dads stuffis an even

bigger one.


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So after the yelling by Mom, I was not allowed to use Dads

tools anymore. Even though I really needed to build a lock to

keep my little sister, Elizabeth, out of my room while Cash wasover. Boys who are going into fourth grade dont need an almost

first-grader barging in and saying we are playing too rough.

Even if we are.

Building something with a toolbox, I was thinking, might be

a way to calm things down, for goodness sake, which is another

rule in our family: Not so wild in the house.

We also have the Pleaseand Thank youthing going strong

here, and youre supposed to just remember to say them

without even a hint. After you eat, you have to sayMay I be

excused?and then clear your plate. Those are not rules in my

second-best-friend Noahs family. Noah can just leave his stuff

on the table and get up whenever hes done. I am not sure

what the rule is in Cashs family, because they just moved here

from Tennessee in June and I didnt even know we were such

great friends during camp.

The way I found out we were such great friends in camp was:

He told his mom we were, and so he wanted to have a playdate

with me, so she called my mom on the phone with the news.


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Nobody asked me if I wanted a playdate with Cash. My mom

just said, Of course, how wonderful, wed be happy to have him

over, how about Thursday?so here he was. Today. Whackingmy stuffties, even the olds and the fragiles, with my Nerf sword

and smiling and saying what a great time we were having.

I said the wordyeahto that. Because everybody saysyeah

to Cash. You cant help it.

No matter what Wingnut and Snakey think.

I wasnt being mean about their whacked and crumpled

states. Its just impossible to disagree with Cash. Even when

you actually do disagree.

When Cash first got dropped off, he told my mom he was

pleased to meet her and thanked her for having him over at our


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beautiful home. I dont know if our home actually is beautiful

or if thats just what people from Tennessee say instead of

hello. My friends from here barely say hi and bye to parents.Now probably some new rules are going to pop up in our

family about what I have to say to peoples parents about if

their homes are beautiful.

1

September 3, Friday

In our family you are not allowed to say the word hateeven

if you actually, you know, the-opposite-of-like something. You

have to say no thank you. I am not sure why. Rules are not

always explained in our family.

Things I no, thank you:

1. Trying on a billion new sneakers at the shoe store

today and ending up with the shiny silver ones instead ofthe soft brown-without-laces ones.

2. Rules.

3. Rough stuff.

4. Bananas that are starting to get freckles.

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September 4, Saturday

What I should be doing today:

Getting ready for school to start, which it is going to do onWednesday even though its still Augusty hot.

What I am doing instead:

Going to the County Fair, where there will be pigs and pies

and lumberjacks.

I didnt know we liked any of those things. I didnt even

know we had a County. I thought we had a Town.

I am not a huge fan of surprises or the word hurry.

Or pie. Pie is fruit and goo, ganging up together and

pretending to be dessert.

Dad showed me a newspaper article to prove how fun the

County Fair would be. It said the lumberjacks throw axes.

I am not sure why Dad wants his kids near flying axes, but

I am now pretending to have a Good Attitude just in case Dad is

secretly evil.

1

September 5, Sunday

Lumberjacks are awesome.

The one Elizabeth and I decided to root for was Mike


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OSullivan. He came in second in sawing through a tree trunk

(3.1 seconds) and first in chopping the top half of a log off the

bottom half (7.3 seconds). He also got first prize in tossing anax at a target to slice open the can of soda that is squooshed

into the bulls-eye.

That is an actual event: throw an ax at a target and explode

a soda.

I am totally going to be a lumberjack when I grow up, or at

least for Halloween. Cash is too.

He was also there, also rooting for

Mike OSullivan.

I am still not a fan of pie.

But it turns out I do like

kettle corn, fried dough, foot-long

hot dogs, watermelon wedges, and

cotton candy. Also: County Fairs

and newborn piglets.

And, best of all, not puking.

Elizabeth likes all the same stuff I do. Unfortunately, she

did not get to enjoy the Not Puking part of the night.

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September 6, Monday

Today is Labor Day. Usually we go to my grandparents

condo at the beach for Labor Day. But this year Gingy andPoopsie went on a cruise. If they like it, we can go on a cruise

with them next year, Poopsie promised. They called from their

first night on the ship to say that Poopsie forgot to pack any

pants.

Which I guess means that for the whole five days, Poopsie

has been running all around a boat in the middle of the ocean

in his underpants. I totally want to go on a cruise like that.

Instead we went to the town pool.


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We went with my second-best-friend, Noah, and his

parents. Noah is a lot of fun, especially if you are interested in

hearing about diseases.Xavier Schwartz and Gianni Schicci were already at the pool

when we got there. They called out my namewell, not my

actual name, which is Justin Krzeszewski, because nobody can

pronounce that last name right, including most of the people

who have it hanging off the back of their regular name. The

name they called was Justin Case. Which is what everybody

calls me. Well, everybody except grown-ups and Noah. Noah

and grown-ups just call me Justin.

Justin Case! Xavier yelled. He was in midair. A second

later he slammed into the pool with a huge splashing cannonball.

Gianni Schicci was waving both of his arms at me. Justin

Case! The Cannonball Champion of the World! Come on!

I was the gold-medal winner in one thing at camp and that

one thing was Cannonball. Cannonball is not an Olympic sport

yet, but maybe it will be by the time Im old enough.

I ran over and cannonballed into the pool. Me and Gianni

and Xavier and then Cash, when he got there, all had a very

splashy time until the lifeguard made us stop.


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We decided to go get Popsicles at the snack bar.

Noah didnt come with us. He was still dry, sitting on the

lounge chair between the moms, covered in towels to keep from

getting a sunburn. He said he wasnt in the mood for Popsicles.

So I said, Okay, and ran over to catch up with Cash, Xavier,

and Gianni.

It was the first time Noah ever wasnt in the mood for food.

I hope he is not getting a disease.

1

September 7, Tuesday

School starts tomorrow. My pencils are sharpened. My hair

is cut. My new sneakers are bought.

So I guess I am ready.


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My new sneakers were so ready, they were practically

glowing in the dark. That is why my dog, Qwerty, chewed them

up. Because probably he thought they were dangerous bad-guyglow-in-the-dark aliens invading our house and he wanted to

protect us from them. Mom didnt get it. She had a very loud

chat with him about inappropriate snacks.

It was not the first Mom-Qwerty chat on that topic.

Qwerty looked very sorry and ashamed.

I took him out to the backyard and secretly thanked him. Those

darn sneakers were too shiny, as shiny as Bartholomew Wiggins.

Bartholomew Wiggins wears a jacket and tie and puts gel in his hair

every first day of school. And sometimes on random Fridays or when

theres a class trip. He is the shiniest kid in my grade.

Its okay when first-graders look all shiny on the first day of

school. But we are starting fourth grade, not first. Mom does

not understand about sneakers looking better and more relaxed


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if they dont shine. Maybe fourth grade was different way back

when she was in it. They didnt have computers or phones or

music then either, I think, so maybe they had to make up forthat by glowing in their sneakers.

My grandfather, Poopsie, didnt even have sneakers back

when he was a kid. They werent invented.And he had to walk

uphill five miles to get to school, and then five miles uphill

coming home, in the snow all year long.

Poopsies stories dont always make a tremendous amount

of sense. He says things were less settled back in The Day,

which is when he grew up. Thats why he kept walking uphill in

every direction, barefoot.

He also had to play Stickball instead of normal games, and

use a rock to get onto the Internet.

Anyway, Qwerty got very excited about that secret that I told

him about liking his improvement of my sneakers. We jumped

around, both very happy, until one of us got knocked down and

covered with drool, and the other of us couldnt stop barking.

Then we decided to come in and calm down for goodness sake.

It is probably not that weird for a fourth-grader to be

slightly worried before the first day of school. Even a little bit of


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worry can keep a person from falling asleep at bedtime. It

doesnt mean the fourth-grader is still a worried kid just

because he needs to hold on to his stuffties and wish that thesummer could last a little while longer.

It probably doesnt mean I am an evil bad guy if I wish that

maybe an earthquake would swallow up the school (not hurting

anybody because it could happen in the middle of the night

when nobody is in the school) so there would have to be a

summer vacation extension until they could pull the school out

of that deep hole.

Maybe using excavators and backhoes.

That would be cool.

Teachers probably get worried a little the night before the

first day of school too. I think I heard about that as a fact

somewhere. I bet from Noah. He knows billions of facts.

Fourth-grade teachers who are taller than your dad and canmove their eyebrows independently of each other in a way that

is maybe a code that the students better learn right away so

they dont get in trouble, and who speak very quietly all the

time and are named Mr. Leonardeven teachers like that might

get a little worried the night before school starts.

But probably not.


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Even my nicest stuffties like Wingnut and Really Giraffe

dont think Mr. Leonard is spending tonight wishing his mom

would come sing him an extra lullaby and maybe bring him anice pack so his hot pillow would cool the heck down.

1

September 8, Wednesday

I am officially a fourth-grader now.

I sure hope Mr. Leonard was interested in hearing about

lumberjacks as a writing sample.

I am so used up, I cant even think.

1

September 9, Thursday

There are a lot of transitions in fourth grade.

Mr. Leonard expects us to cope with

transitions smoothly.

He calls us young man or young lady

instead of our names. Thats a transition, I think.

Okay, I am not actually 100 percent sure what a

transition is. But teachers in the lower grades say

your name.


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Theres no complaining or whining in fourth grade. There is

just Clean up your stuffand Get in line. Single file. Not a boys

line and a girls line. We are too grown up for that, Mr. Leonardthinks. I am not sure he is correct on that one. But I didnt

raise my hand to say,Mr. Leonard, I am not sure you are

correct about that one.

No way. And neither did anybody else.

Mr. Leonards voice is quiet and his face is very serious.

Nobody looks out windows or falls off chairs while he talks, not

even Xavier Schwartz, who is King of Falling Off Chairs.

And nobody says, Youre wrong, Mr. Leonard. I bet ever.

Probably not even his mom says that.

It is so weird to think maybe teachers have moms somewhere.

Move silently through the corridors like a shark,Mr.

Leonard was saying. Sharks are predators, I thought. I imagined

myself as a shark chasing after a school (hahahaha) of little

screaming kindergarteners.


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Justin Case: Rules, Tools, and Maybe a Bully Excerpt

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Transcript of Justin Case: Rules, Tools, and Maybe a Bully Excerpt