The Substitute Mix-Up

Mr. Lyman's sixth-grade history class was buzzing as Clayton walked in.  That was normal.  Mr. Lyman's classroom always buzzed-exciting stuff happened in there all the time.

Clayton felt a playful slap on his shoulders.  Turning around, he grinned into the distorted face of his best friend, Todd. Yep, everything was normal.  As Todd stuck his tongue back in his mouth and straightened out the rest of his face, he gave Clayton the news.

"Did you hear?" Todd asked excitedly, "Mr. Lyman's sick, so that means...SUBSTITUTE!!!" Todd announced gleefully.

Clayton smiled and rolled his eyes.  He knew that Todd was an expert in disturbing substitute teachers.  It alwasy seemed like Todd was coimg up with a new scheme or practical joke.  Clayton was about to find out about Todd's newest plan when the door slammed. In marched the oldest, meanest woman Clayton had ever seen.  She had lots of wrinkles, black horn-rimmed glasses, and a very vicious stare.

"Wow," Clayton whispered to Todd, "she must be eight hundred years old!"

"Yeah, and she looks meaner than a sack of snakes," Todd whispered back.

As if to prove Todd's point, the woman shaprly turned around, stalked to the chalkboard, and attacked it with harsh, angry strokes.

"Mrs. Hetzenberger," she said, pointing to the board, "that is what you will call me.  Not 'Mrs. H', not 'Teacher'. "

"How 'bout Mrs. Hamburger?" Todd called out, making the class giggle.

"NO!" Mrs. Hetzenberger returned furiously. "Absolutely no! Mrs. Hetzenberger.  You will call me nothing else!"

"Nothing else?" Todd asked innocently.

"NO!"

"Nothing else?" Todd asked again, his face the picture of sincerity.

Clayton began to giggle louder.  He was fully aware of Todd's joke.  Apparently, the rest of the class was too.  Clayton noticed he wasn't the only one laughing.

"Nothing else," Todd asked for the third time. "You should make up your mind.  I thought you wanted to be called Mrs. Hetzenberger," Todd smiled beguilingly as the class roared.

"Young man," Mrs. Hetzenberger sputtered, "you better just watch your mouth.  Better yet, don't open it at all."

Todd opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"You look like a fish," Clayton giggled.  "Boy, she sure told you!"

Noticing Mrs. Hetzenberger's angry eye on him, Clayton wisely decided it was time to shut up.

"Let's begin. Take out your Latin homework."

"Latin?" Clayton thought. "What is she talking about? This is supposed to be HISTORY! Boy, she is really weird."

"Mrs. Hamburger, I mean Hetzen...." Todd began, eager to correct her.

"That's it, young man," Mrs. Hetzenberger interrupted, "you just march yourself off to the principal's office.  NOW!"

"But..."

"No buts! Just go!"

Clayton glanced at his friend.  Todd didn't look too upset. Anything to get out of class, Clayton thought.

"Now, about that Latin lesson."

"No, but..." another student protested.

"I said NO BUTS!! if you can't understand that, you'd better just follow Mr. Smarty-Pants to the office," Mrs. Hetzenberger said as a dismissal.

Clayton didn't know whether to laugh or not.  Obviously, this woman thought she was a drill seargeant, not a substitute history teacher for a buch of sixth-graders.  Mrs. Hetzenberger even sent Rachel Watson to the office because Rachel couldn't answer question #18.

"You obviously haven't studied your lesson. Off to the principal with you as well," Mrs. Hetzenberger said as she bundled Rachel out the door and down the hall.

"Now, who completed the exercise? Nobody?" Mrs. Hetzenberger glared at the class.  Her gaze came to rest upon Clayton.

"Well?" she demanded.

"This isn't Latin, Mrs. Ham...uh, Hetzenberger," Clayton blurted, almost calling her the hilarious name that got Todd out of class.

"Don't you try to fool me, sonny. Do you think I was born yesterday?" Mrs. Hetzenberger fumed. "You'd think that students of your age would have gotten past tricks like this.  Hmph! Almost in college, and just LOOK at you!"

College? Now what was she talking about?  Clayton was beginning to think that not only was she a werid old lady, she was also blind as a bat.  She obviously hadn't noticed that they were a little short for  high-schoolers.  Clayton was wondering how to get through an hour of "Latin" when Principal Devlin and the three dismissed students walked into the classroom.  The principal walked over to Mrs. Hetzenberger, but before he could say anything, she began to loudly berate him as well.

"Just who I wanted to see! I can't believe this.  What kind of students do you have in your school?" Mrs. Hetzenberger fumed.

"Mrs. Hambur...uh, Hetzenberuger..." the principal stammered.

Clayton looked at his friend and giggled.  THe principal had obviously been listening to Todd.

"How do you expect the students to finish high school when they can't even finish their Latin homework?" Mrs. Hetzenberger ranted.  "These people aren't ready for college...they are more ready for seventh grade!"

"That's because the ARE getting ready for seventh grade," Principal Devlin explained with a smile.  "You see, there's been a mistake..."

"I told you so," Clayton loudly whispered, but fell silent at Mrs. Hetzenberger's glare.

"...and you were supposed to be at McGregor High, teaching Latin to high school seniors.  Somehow, you wound up here at Northcove Middle School, in a sixth-grade history class," Principal Devlin finished.

As the principal escorted a sputtering and stammering Mrs. Hetzenberger out the door, in marched a woman who could have been her twin.  Clayton and Todd groaned as she loudly announced "You will call me Mrs. Fishmonger, and I will be your history teacher."