Horrible Harry Moves up to the Third Grade by Suzy Kline

Are We on Mars?

    I couldn’t wait for third grade in Room 2B.
    Same class.
    Same teacher.
    Same room.
    And most important ... Harry and I would be together for another school year. Safe and sound.
    Boy, was I wrong!
    On the first day of school, Harry and I went walking down the hall.
    â€œReady for third grade, Doug?” he asked.
    â€œI’m ready,” I said.
    We slapped each other five.

    When we got to Room 2B, we stopped dead in our tracks. A tall man with green eyes and a bald head greeted us. “Welcome to school, boys!”
    â€œYou’re not Miss Mackle,” Harry said. “This is Miss Mackle’s room!”
    â€œNo. I’m Mr. Moulder. I’m teaching second grade. This is my room now.”
    Harry stepped inside and looked around. “Are you hiding her somewhere?”

    Mr. Moulder scratched his shiny head. “Hiding who?”
    Harry and I exchanged looks. What was going on? Were we in the right school?
    We ran outside the building to double-check. There it was in cement just above the door:
    SOUTH SCHOOL
    FOUNDED IN 1901
    â€œThis is crazy,” I said.
    â€œThis is weird,” Harry said. “We’re supposed to have Miss Mackle for third grade. Where is she?”
    We walked back into the building.
    â€œLet’s go to the office,” I suggested.
    When we got there, we saw a huge bouquet of flowers. Harry read the little note speared on the plastic fork: CONGRATULATIONS, MRS. CARPENTER!
    We looked at the lady sitting at the secretary’s desk. She had her back to us. She was typing something on her computer.
    â€œThat’s not Miss Foxworth,” Harry said. “Miss Foxworth doesn’t have blonde hair.”
    â€œLet’s go ask Mrs. Chan, our old kindergarten teacher,” I said.
    We dashed down the hall.
    â€œCan I help you boys?” asked a young woman who looked like Snow White. “I’m Miss Zaharek, the kindergarten teacher.”
    â€œAAAAHHHHHHH!” we screamed.
    We started pounding our hands on the wall poster, “ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN.”
    Finally, the principal showed up.
    When we spotted his curly hair and mustache, we cheered, “Mr. Cardini!”

    â€œWell, hello, Harry and Doug. You boys lost?”
    â€œYeah!” Harry said with his fist in the air. “It feels like we’re on Mars!”
    Mr. Cardini laughed as he twirled his mustache. “I think you two are looking for your third-grade room. That’s upstairs. Didn’t you read the number on your old report card?”
    Harry and I shrugged.
    â€œTake a left at the top of the stairs. Room 3B is the second room on the right side of the hall.”
    Harry and I took off like two road-runners. We zoomed up the stairs in seconds, then took a left and counted two rooms down on the right side.
    â€œThis room must be Mars,” Harry said. “Look at these boulders stacked outside the door.”
    â€œJust a minute,” I said. “These aren’t real rocks. They’re grocery bags from Park and Shop crunched up and sprayed brown.”
    Harry smelled the rocks and saw the faint lettering through the paint. “Yeah. They’re phony.”
    Slowly, we passed through the boulder archway When we stepped inside, we were greeted by a big sign on the bulletin board. It said, THIRD GRADE ROCKS. There were lots of rocks on the display table, but we didn’t go over and look at them. We just noticed the class.
    â€œHi, Harry! Hi, Doug!” everyone. shouted. There were Song Lee, Mary, Sidney, Ida, Dexter ...
    ... and Miss Mackle!
    Harry ran over and gave her a big hug.

    I waved.
    I was just as glad to see her, though.
    â€œWelcome to third grade, boys. I can’t wait to hear about your summer.”
    â€œForget summer. What’s going on here?” I asked.
    â€œYeah,” Harry replied. “Who’s that bald guy in Room 2B. And where are Miss Foxworth