Free We Dine With Cannibals by C. Alexander London

help her brother pry Beverly from the boy’s face.
    At the front of the room, Mr. McNulty fainted. Celia wondered if that’s what he meant by his pedagogical approach. The other students jumped up on their chairs and screamed. Celia started to wish they’d been homeschooled.

12
WE KNOW OUR LIZARD

    PRINCIPAL DEAVER LEANED back in her chair and studied the Navel twins over the rim of her reading glasses. Her office was tidy. Papers were stacked neatly in piles and weighted with antique paperweights. Her books were organized by color and size. A shiny bronze bust of Teddy Roosevelt sat on top of the bookshelf, gazing down at the room.
    Principal Deaver was a small woman, but she made up for it with her severe haircut and an expression to match. In fact, she looked a lot like Teddy Roosevelt. And she made it clear that she was not to be trifled with.
    â€œI am not to be trifled with,” she said.
    Beverly sat in a cage on the windowsill behind the principal, watching the scene with focusedlizard eyes. Or she was asleep. It was hard to tell with lizards.
    â€œI have been around the block a time or two,” Principal Deaver said. “I’m no spring chicken,” she added, as if Oliver or Celia thought she might be.
    In truth, they had seen talking yaks and met a man who called himself a lama. Principal Deaver could have been a spring chicken, whatever that meant. Usually, when someone denied something without being asked, it meant that they were probably hiding the truth.
    â€œIn all my years as an educator,” she continued, “I have never seen a first day of class like this one. What do you have to say for yourselves?”
    â€œI told him not to touch the lizard,” Oliver said, staring at his feet.
    â€œMr. Rondon, our custodian, was forced to put aside his normal duties to find a cage for that thing.”
    Mr. Rondon grunted. He stood behind Oliver and Celia in a crisp blue uniform. He was completely bald, with thick black eyebrows and large, powerful hands. He had very broad shoulders, like a bodyguard. A few dark lines of a tattoo peekedabove the collar of his shirt. He made Oliver and Celia a little nervous.
    â€œHer name’s Beverly,” Oliver said. Celia shushed him. Oliver never knew the right time to keep his mouth shut.
    â€œPlease tell me,” the principal continued without acknowledging Beverly’s name, “who thought it was a good idea to bring a poisonous lizard to the first day of school?”
    â€œI didn’t have a choice,” Oliver said.
    â€œYoung man”—Principal Deaver leaned forward and laced her fingers together—“there is always a choice.
Always
!” She slapped her desk to make her point. Oliver and Celia stared blankly at her. Adults could be so theatrical sometimes. Behind them, Mr. Rondon cracked his knuckles.
That
made the twins shudder.
    â€œMa’am.” Celia cleared her throat. She had decided to defend her brother, even though she could have stayed out of the situation altogether. She’d been in the back of the classroom, after all. She had her own problems with all those kids laughing at her. But Oliver was her brother. “Oliver thought it would be good for show-and-tell. Heloves … um … science and stuff. He was just trying to embrace … the … uh … pedagogical approach.”
    Principal Deaver raised her eyebrows at Celia. So did Oliver. Mr. Rondon let out a slow breath. Beverly shifted from claw to claw, though it probably had nothing to do with the conversation. She was just a lizard.
    â€œWell,” the principal said at last. “That is an admirable idea, Mr. Navel. I am glad you think so seriously about the method and practice of teaching, but in the sixth grade we do not do show-and- tell. You are very lucky that young Mr. Angstura was not seriously harmed during the incident. You both may return to class. Mr. Rondon shall keep this lizard in his