The Spoon in the Bathroom Wall by Tony Johnston Page A

next day she’d learn the rest about teaching.

XXI

    The next day Marthur raced to Ferlin’s room.

    â€œWhat are the rest?” she asked, dashing in.
    Ferlin’s eyebrows shot up. “Could you be a bit more vague?”
    Marthur blushed. “The rest of the lessons,” she said timidly. “I could use them. I’m—er—uh—teaching somebody.”
    â€œGood grief, you’re an eager beaver!” Ferlin said. She sounded peeved, but her eyes twinkled. In a swirl, she turned to face the chalkboard. “Let’s have them all!” she commanded.
    The chalk levitated, then feverishly wrote (in cursive):
    Â 
Ferlin’s Perfect Rules of Teaching
    Â 
1. You never know what you’re teaching .
    Â 
    â€œYou already know that one,” Ferlin said.
    Â 
2. Don’t talk down .
    Â 
    â€œDitto.”
    Â 
3. Homework should not be synonymous with torture .
    Â 
    â€œEasy,” said Marthur.
    Â 
4. Make lessons MAGNIFICENT .
    Â 
    â€œYou mean wild?”
    â€œI mean unforgettable.”
    â€œLike the dancing eggs?”
    â€œPrecisely.” Ferlin smiled. “You’re doing nicely.”
    Â 
5. Keep alive .
    Â 
    â€œDon’t die in class?” Marthur asked.
    â€œTry not to do that, heaven knows. But embrace learning. Soak it up. So will your pupils.”
    Â 
6. Humiliation is highly unaccaptable .
    Â 
    â€œTeachers hold places of power,” said Ferlin. “To make pupils feel small is despicable.”
    â€œLike bullying?”
    â€œBravo, my Marthur!”
    Â 
7. Every pupil is of value .
    Â 
    â€œSelf-explanatory.”
    Â 
8. Every pupil is of equal value .
    Â 
    â€œLike Rufus?”
    â€œ
Everybody
.”
    Â 
9. Learn from your pupils .
    Â 
    â€œYeah,” Marthur agreed. “Kids know a ton of stuff.”
    Â 
10. Mercy is highly acceptable .
    Â 
    â€œWhen you get a chance to be kind, grab it,” said Ferlin.
    Marthur said, “I like that one.”
    Â 
11. One to grow on: Laugh a lot .
    Â 
    â€œI just tossed that in.” Ferlin laughed her head off.
    Marthur suddenly panicked. “What if I mess up?” She worried about Rufus. Maybe she’d ruin him.
    â€œYou have tomorrow—and tomorrow and tomorrow—to do better.”
    Throughout the lesson it had been weirdly quiet. No sign of Rufus. No sniggers. No snorts. No stones hitting the windows. Marthur wondered if Ferlin had cast a spell around her room—to keep him away for once.
    It was very strange. Marthur’s mind was so riveted on the lessons, she never once thought about the coming of the king or the spoon.
    Ferlin clapped like a firecracker. A copy of “Ferlin’s Perfect Rules of Teaching” flew into Marthur’s hands.
    â€œWell, there you have it, dear Marthur,” said Ferlin. “All you need to know about teaching.”
    â€œThat’s it?”
    â€œYep. Study them well and you’ll be ready—for anything.”
    Funny. It sounded like Ferlin meant more than teaching.
    â€œBy the way,” Ferlin said as Marthur was leaving, “I’ve decided to relent about Rufus.”
    â€œGolly day! Thanks!”
    â€œIf you can help him, I can, too. He won’t be my pupil. Not like you. But I’ll give him some dragon work to do.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œDon’t be so nosy.” Then Ferlin added mysteriously, “You’ll see.”

XXII
    Porta Potties had sprung up at school like bright blue mushrooms.
    â€œWhat’re those doing here?” Marthur asked Rufus. She’d been tutoring him in the boiler room. Day after day, whenever she could. On fractions and stuff like that. Using Ferlin’s Rules to keep on track. Nobody went to class anymore (and nobody cared) but Rufus and her. Who would’ve believed it?
    Rufus was doing okay. He was actually trying. (So hard sometimes, he even got headaches.) He’d