Apparently, Fake Leo had just been scolded by a teacher. He was holding a dunce cap—an honest-to-goodness cardboard cone that said DUNCE. Leo thought those were something you only saw in cartoons.
He could understand why Fake Leo wasn’t wearing it. Bad enough to look like a jockey. With that cone on his head, he would’ve looked like a gnome.
Some kids backed up when Fake Leo burst onto the scene. Others nudged each other and ran toward him like they were expecting a show.
Meanwhile, Flathead Rufus was still trying to punk Hazel out of a diamond, oblivious to Fake Leo’s arrival.
“Come on, girl.” Rufus loomed over Hazel with his fists clenched. “Give it!”
Hazel pressed herself against the wall. Suddenly the ground at her feet went
“Ha!” Rufus barked when he saw it. He started to lean down, but Hazel yelped, “No, please!” as if she was genuinely concerned for the big goon.
That’s when Fake Leo strolled over.
Here it comes, Leo thought. Fake Leo is gonna bust out some Coach Hedge–style jujitsu and save the day.
Instead, Fake Leo put the top of the dunce cap to his mouth like a megaphone and yelled, “CUT!”
He said it with such authority all the other kids momentarily froze. Even Rufus straightened and backed away in confusion.
One of the little boys snickered under his breath: “Hammy Sammy.”
Sammy/Fake Leo stormed up to Rufus with his dunce cap in his hand, looking angry. “No, no, no!” he announced, waving his free hand wildly at the other kids, who were gathering to watch the entertainment.
Sammy turned to Hazel. “Miss Lamarr, your line is…” Sammy looked around in exasperation. “Script! What is Hedy Lamarr’s line?”
“Thank you!” Sammy said. “Miss Lamarr, you’re supposed to say,
The whole courtyard burst into laughter. Leo vaguely knew Clark Gable was an old-timey actor, but he didn’t know much else. Apparently, though, the idea that Flathead Rufus could be Clark Gable was hilarious to the kids.
“Mr. Gable—”
“No!” one of the girls cried. “Make him Gary Cooper.”
More laughter. Rufus looked as if he were about to blow a valve. He balled his fists like he wanted to hit somebody, but he couldn’t attack the entire school. He clearly hated being laughed at, but his slow little mind couldn’t quite work out what Sammy was up to.
Leo nodded in appreciation. Sammy
“Right!” Sammy yelled imperiously. “Mr. Cooper, you say,
“Sammy, no!” Hazel protested, but Sammy snatched up the stone and slipped it into his pocket in one smooth move.
He wheeled on Rufus. “I want emotion! I want the ladies in the audience swooning! Ladies, did Mr. Cooper make you swoon just now?”
“No,” several of them called back.
“There, you see?” Sammy cried. “Now, from the top!” he yelled into his dunce cap. “Action!”
Rufus was just starting to get over his confusion. He stepped toward Sammy and said, “Valdez, I’m gonna —”
The bell rang. Kids swarmed the doors. Sammy pulled Hazel out of the way as the little ones—who acted like they were on Sammy’s payroll—herded Rufus along with them so he was carried inside on a tide of kindergartners.
Soon Sammy and Hazel were alone except for the ghosts.
Sammy scooped up Hazel’s smashed lunch, made a show of dusting off the canvas bag, and presented it to her with a deep bow, as if it were her crown. “Miss Lamarr.”
Hazel from the past took her ruined lunch. She looked like she was about to cry, but Leo couldn’t tell if that was from relief or misery or admiration. “Sammy…Rufus is going to kill you.”
“Ah, he knows better than to tangle with me.” Sammy plopped the dunce cap on top of his jockey cap. He stood up straight and stuck out his scrawny chest. The dunce cap fell off.
Hazel laughed. “You are ridiculous.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Lamarr.”
“You’re welcome,
Sammy’s smile wavered. The air became uncomfortably charged. Hazel stared at the ground. “You shouldn’t have touched that diamond. It’s dangerous.”
