Free Burning Questions of Bingo Brown by Betsy Byars Page A

Wentworth.”
    “Do it for me.”
    “No.”
    “For your dad.”
    “No!”
    “Bingo,” his mom said, abandoning her efforts at soft-sell, “you are so interested in yourself and your own problems that you never even notice anyone else. It’s one of your worst faults. You go through life like you are the only person with any problems. All your life is a crisis. You never think of anyone but yourself.”
    “I do. I’m interested in people. I spend half the school day going to the pencil sharpener just to see what they’re doing.”
    “I’m not talking about spying on people.”
    “Mom—”
    “I’m talking about the fact that you have not even noticed your own father lately.”
    “What about Dad?”
    “He’s quiet. He’s withdrawn. He hates his work. The one thing he’s got to look forward to is homecoming.”
    “He doesn’t hate his work—”
    “Can you honestly imagine that it’s fun to sell insurance for a living?”
    “Just get me a baby-sitter.”
    “Who?”
    “I don’t know—somebody.”
    “Well, I promise you one things— you are the one who is going to have to tell your father. You are going to be the one to say, ‘Dad, you cannot go to homecoming because I won’t stay at the Wentworths.’ You just get up off that bed right now and call him up on the phone. I mean it.”
    She pulled Bingo up and into the hall. She dialed the phone and said, “Sam, your son has something to say to you.”
    Bingo took the phone. “Dad?”
    “What is it, son? I’m in sort of a hurry.”
    “I just wanted to tell you not to worry about me for homecoming weekend. I’m staying with the Wentworths.” He handed the phone to his mom.
    “Thank you, thank you,” she said. “You are the most wonderful son in the world. I will never forget this. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Bingo, you are—”
    “Leave me alone,” he said.

The Test
    “T EST?” MR. MARKHAM SAID. “What test? Was I going to give you a test?”
    Bingo didn’t remember the test either, but then the knowledge that he was going to have to spend the night with Billy Wentworth had forced everything else out of his mind.
    He had spent the whole night going over it. Would he sleep in the bottom bunk or the top one? Would Billy scorn his Superman pajamas?
    “Yes,” Mamie Lou said, “you told us to study for a test and so we did. Where’s the test?”
    “Thanks a lot,” Billy Wentworth grumbled. “Now he’ll give us one. He’d forgotten all about it. If anybody flunks, it’s your fault.”
    “Gang,” said Mr. Mark. “Mamie Lou is right. I said we were going to have a test and rather than disappoint those who studied, we are going to have a test.”
    He got up from his desk.
    “So we have a problem—no test. But there is a simple solution to the problem. Get out your paper.”
    The class groaned.
    “No, wait, you haven’t heard this. You’re going to like this. Give me a chance. Paper ready, everyone?”
    The papers were ready.
    “All right, I am going to let you make up your own history test. Yes, you heard correctly. You will make up your own questions. You will answer your own questions. They may be true-false questions, fill-in-the-blanks, or essay-type questions. The details are up to you.”
    He sat down at his desk. “Oh, yes. Gang, each test must consist of at least ten questions. Good luck.”
    Bingo decided instantly on fill-in-the-blanks. That would be easiest. He would just write ten sentences about the Constitution and then he would underline one word in each sentence as if that were the blank.
    Everyone was writing. No one was having problems with either the questions or the answers.
    As usual, Bingo was one of the first to finish. Out of habit he glanced at his pencil, but he found he had no desire to sharpen it.
    He reached under his desk for his journal. He flipped it open. He had pages and pages of burning questions by now. He had not even known there were that many burning questions in the entire