Free The Mystery of Mr. Nice by Bruce Hale Page B

when I knew.
    Either my principal had lost his mind, or someone had kidnapped the real Mr. Zero.

3. Unprincipaled Behavior
    Surprise froze my tongue like a mayfly on a Popsicle. I couldn't believe what was happening.

    "So, may I keep this wonderful drawing?" asked Principal Zero again.
    "Uh ... sure," I said. "It's yours."
    He glanced down at the pink slip.
    "Thank you ... Chet." Mr. Zero's smile was as sincere as a bully's apology. "Be sure to stop in anytime. I'm always glad to see an artist of your amazing talents."
    I nodded and stumbled from the room, breathless and bewildered. I shut his door and leaned against it. Maggie Crow was riffling through a file drawer with her beak.
    I cleared my throat. "Notice anything strange about your boss?"

    "No stranger than usual," she said.
    "But he didn't punish me."
    Maggie turned and cocked her head. "Maybe you caught him in a good mood. Don't push your luck, buddy-boy. Get out while the getting's good."
    I beat feet. My mind was racing like a kid after an ice-cream truck. Something truly weird was going on here.
    And I was just the gecko to find out what it was.
    At recess, I plopped down under a scrofulous tree to think. Questions chased each other like third graders playing a game of cooties. I was so distracted, I barely tasted my Pillbug Crunch candy bar.
    If that really
was
Principal Zero, why was he acting so ... well,
nice?
If that wasn't my principal, who was it, and why was he pretending?
    And what the heck was a hypotenuse, anyway? (I hadn't read my math homework again.)
    I looked up. Across the playground, Rocky Rhode, the horned toad, was holding a first grader upside down until lunch money rained from his pockets. The old shakedown.
    I shook my head. That sixth-grade troublemaker was guilty of everything from stealing test answers to writing graffiti on a sleeping teacher. She was bad news with a capital
B.

    Hmm.
Maybe I could try the old shakedown on
her.
Rocky spent more time in the principal's office than his secretary did. She might have a clue about why our principal was acting strange.

    I strolled across the grass as Rocky dropped the little shrew on his head. He staggered off, whimpering.
    "Hey, Rocky," I said.
    She squinted up at me as she collected the fallen coins. "Hello, Gecko," she sneered. "Looking for trouble?"
    "No, thanks," I said. "I've got plenty. What I need is answers."
    "Can you pay?"
    "I might."
    Rocky looked both ways. No teachers nearby. "Which test did you want the answers to?" she said.
    She dug a fistful of papers from her book bag.
    I snatched one and scooted back. "No test answers for me," I said. "I want a different kind of answer. And if I don't get it, I'm going straight to the principal with this."
    I expected her to take a stab at rearranging my face with her horned fists. I was wrong.
    "Hah!" she laughed. "That's a good one! Principal Zero would probably give me a gold star."
    My jaw hung open. "So you've noticed that he's ... different?"
    Rocky snorted. "Different? He changed like magic."

    Magic?
    An idea came to me. That happens sometimes.
    "Rocky," I said, "do you know if Principal Zero has ever been involved with voodoo?"
    "Who do?"
    "No, voodoo."
    "Zero, voodoo? Sure, I do."
    "You do?"
    "Yeah," she said. "And the answer is no. But
something's
happened to him."
    I sighed and handed back the test sheet. "Here, I don't need this."
    Rocky stuffed it back into her book bag, which was jammed with papers, stolen lunch money, and what looked like a very cramped kindergartner. I shoved my hands in my pockets and turned to go.
    "Hey, Gecko," said Rocky. "I'll give you one answer for free. You wanna know how different Zero is?"
    I turned to face her. "Yeah."
    "Yesterday, Teach sent me to the principal's office for swiping lunch money from someone's desk. But all Zero said was, 'Next time, don't get caught.'"
    Rocky shrugged a spiky shoulder. "He told me he'd help me practice my technique. Now, that's what I call a nice