After that, we had no more questions, so there was nothing left but to fly Spook home. It was pretty hard saying good-bye to her when we dropped her off at her window. It was for me, anyhow. I think it was for Miss Switch and Bathsheba as well, even though neither one would admit it. But Spook and I knew there might never be another chance for an adventure like the one we’d just had.
“I know you have to go, Miss Switch,” I said as she dropped me off at my window. “But are you coming back to Pepperdine tomorrow?”
“You don’t think I’d leave without telling my class, do you?” she snapped. Snapping was okay I knew she was never happy about leaving.
But my spirits were pretty low at that moment. Mr. Dorking and Miss Tuna had flown off into the sunset. Or moonset, as it was in this case. All that was happening to me was my having to say good-bye to Spook that night, and probably to Miss Switch the next day.
At least I still had my pets to talk to. But I knew that would end, too, when Miss Switch had gone. Or would it? This was the third time she’d been back and my pets had been able to talk to me. Wasn’t three times usually a charm? Maybe this time they’d keep right on talking even after she’d gone.
The next morning on the monkey bars, I brought up the subject of Miss Blossom to my friends. “I wonder if she’s going to stay,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Peatmouse asked.
I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess because nobody else has.”
“I … I kind of hope she does,” Creampuff said, looking at us sideways to see how the rest of us would take this. “I’m kind of getting used to her.”
“She’s a pretty good teacher,” said Banana. “And I kind of like her, too, I guess.”
“But she still isn’t Miss Switch,” said Peatmouse.
“Yeah,” we all agreed.
“Hey!” Banana was running a finger over the top bar. “What are these black spots? They’ve never been here before.”
“Look like burn marks to me,” Peatmouse said. “Somebody must have had a fire going someplace.”
“Or maybe shooting off fireworks,” said Creampuff.
“Maybe,” was all I said. After all, there was no point in offering further suggestions. But I was glad those burn marks were there. What few proofs I ever had of my adventures with Miss Switch were shaky at best, or seemed to disappear entirely.
Of course, wouldn’t you know, as I looked out the windows of Room Twelve later that morning, there were the painters out painting the playground equipment, including the monkey bars, just as promised by our good old PTA. So much for that!
As for the rest of the day, it went just like any other school day Except for the paint job, nothing else happened. But word quickly got around that Mr. Dorking had left, and so had Miss Tuna.
“Maybe they eloped together, yuck, yuck, yuck!” someone said.
“That’ll be the day!” said someone else.
Naturally, I kept my mouth shut.
What surprised me was that, other than the above comments and a few others along those lines, nobody seemed to care much, not even the girls. But at the end of the day, just as I expected, Miss Blossom announced that she, too, would be leaving. Then I was surprised again when the whole class moaned at the news. A couple of people even had to wipe their eyes. Well, I guess I really wasn’t that surprised, knowing who Miss Blossom really was.
I kept hoping all day that she would have a special message for me. I finally decided that she just couldn’t find a way to get me aside, so I resolved to hang around until everyone had left after the final bell. But right after she made her announcement, she handed back our math tests, waved to us at the door, and walked out. Just like that! The class applauded, and I applauded right along with them even though I really felt let down.
I was pretty glum as I walked home that day. Miss Blossom hadn’t even given me the chance to thank her for saving my skin. My mind was wandering, and I wasn’t paying much attention to my feet, so I went and tripped. Just what I needed—my school papers flying all over the sidewalk. Of course, my math test was with them. I hadn’t even bothered to look at my grade. I carelessly turned to the last page to see what it was. Then I shook my head and looked again.
There was a big, red A plus at the bottom of the page, but there was something else, too. It was a message written in black ink in spidery handwriting.
I read it. And read it again. Then I leaped up. Who knew when it would happen, but Miss Switch was letting me know that someday I’d be able to get a message from her! I couldn’t get home fast enough to report this to my pets!
“Guess what?” I shouted as I burst into my room.
But I was already too late. They all just looked at me with their bright, beady eyes and never said a word. It seemed my three-times-a-charm theory was a big bust. Had I just been imagining all along that they’d been talking to me?
And what proofs did I have that any of the things that had happened to me had actually happened? As I said, the scorch marks on the monkey bars, courtesy of Miss Switch, were now gone—painted away by the PTA. As for the note on my arithmetic paper, that had started to disappear almost immediately, and by nightfall was gone. That figured. Miss Switch wouldn’t have wanted somebody casting their unauthorized eyes on a message like that. So I was left with nothing but a small scrape on my windowsill where her broomstick rubbed.
