Ann Martin - Kristy Power!

Finally, I presented it as a hypothetical case. "Mary Anne," I blurted out, interrupting her, "what if you accidentally found out something private about someone? Something that person didn't want you to know? Do you tell him you know?" Good old Mary Anne didn't seem fazed by my sudden switch in subjects. "Depends," she said. "Do you have a reason for saying something? Or could you maybe forget the thing you found out?" "Forget it?" I asked slowly. "I don't think so." "In that case, honesty is probably the best policy." Mary Anne is usually right about these things. But I wasn't convinced. Honesty may be the best policy where most people are concerned, but I was dealing with Cary Retlin. And Cary Retlin is definitely not like "most people." Chapter 7.

The next day I spent the morning avoiding Cary. I had the feeling seeing him at school was going to be awkward after what I'd read in his journal. How could I face him?

For everybody else, it was an ordinary Wednesday. For me, it was something else. I was the only person at SMS who knew that we had a criminal in our midst. As I walked around the halls, I reflected on how I would feel if I were booted from our school. I mean, it's not my favorite place in the universe. Maybe I'd want to celebrate if I were told to go somewhere else.

But I didn't think so.

I'd miss it. I would miss the front hall, with its display cases full of trophies. I would miss the main bulletin board, all covered in notices and posters. I'd miss the auditorium, my locker, and yes, even the cafeteria.

After all, I'd spent an awful lot of time in that building over the last few years. In a way, it was like another home to me.

Yikes. If any of my friends had known what I was thinking, they'd have thought I had gone nuts. And maybe I had. I felt tense and stressed out, like a cat on its way to the vet.

Mary Anne noticed. Mary Anne always notices things like that.) "Are you okay?" she asked when we were at our lockers between classes.

"Sure." I gave her a false smile just as the bell rang.

"We'll talk later," she said. I hadn't fooled her for a minute.

My next class was English. It was time to face Cary. I ran into him around the corner from my locker. "H-hi!" I said brightly.

"Hello to you," he said in an amused tone. "Feeling all right?" "Feeling excellent. And you?" "Fine, thanks." I think he noticed that I was a little nervous around him. Especially when I almost walked into the door of our classroom.

"It's customary to open the door," Cary said, grinning at me as he reached for the doorknob.

He lost his grin as soon as he looked inside. I followed his glance.

Mr. Taylor, our principal, was standing at Ted's desk.

And Ted was nowhere to be seen.

Immediately I forgot about my problems with Cary.

"This isn't good," Cary muttered. "It's not good at all." We took our seats.

The second bell rang, and the last kids trickled in and sat down. Then Mr. Taylor began to speak.

"Good morning," he said. He was twisting his hands together and sort of squinting.

"Good morning," we chorused.

He took a breath. "You may notice that your regular teacher, Mr. Morley, is not here today," he said.

"Oh, really?" said Alan Gray.

Mr. Taylor gave him a Look and continued. "Mr. Morley is going to be taking some time off while the administration of this school investigates the charges being leveled against him." Now Mr. Taylor sounded as if he were reciting a speech he'd memorized. I wondered if he'd said the same thing to all of Ted's classes. And I wondered if the kids in every class had stared at him in shock the way the ones in ray class had.

Mr. Taylor was looking toward a back corner of the room. Merrie Dow was in the front. I could tell he was trying hard not to look at her while he talked. But every kid in the class was looking at her.

"This is most likely a temporary measure," Mr. Taylor added hurriedly. "We hope to avoid too much disruption to your learning cycle here in English class." He stopped twisting his hands and shoved them into his pockets. Then he cleared his throat. "Any questions?" he asked.

My hand shot up. He gave me a slight nod. "Are you telling us that Ted was suspended just for handing out a list of books?" I asked.

Mr. Taylor looked taken aback. "Well, yes," he admitted. "I suppose you could put it that way. Mr. Morley has indeed been suspended, pending investigation. And the book list he gave you is part of the reason." "Part?" asked Cary. He hadn't bothered to raise his hand. "What do you mean, 'part'?" Mr. Taylor sighed. "Let me explain," he said. "The content of the list - the books that are on it - is only part of the problem. The other part is that Mr. Morley apparently neglected to have his list ap- proved by the head of the English department. That's standard procedure in this school." Alan Gray was waving his hand. "But that's not fair," he cried. "Ted came here all of a sudden, to fill in for Mrs. Simon. He might not have known about that rule." "Be that as it may," said Mr. Taylor, "the rule does exist." Cary's hand shot up. Mr. Taylor glanced at him. I could tell he would rather not call on Cary, but he didn't have much choice. He'd asked for questions, after all. He nodded at Cary.

"What do you think about the situation?" Cary asked.

Mr. Taylor took a step backward. "What I think is only part of the picture," he declared after a pause. He frowned and looked into the back corner of the classroom again. "I will say that I believe Mr. Morley meant no harm. He is a respected teacher, and this matter will receive a fair hearing. I fully intend to make sure of that." Cary turned around in his seat and glanced at me. I could tell by his look that he was thinking the same thing I was: Mr. Taylor was not very happy about what had happened. There must have been tremendous pressure to suspend Ted.

Mr. Taylor wasn't the only adult at SMS who was unhappy about Ted's suspension. After class, as I walked to my locker, I could see little groups of teachers in the halls. They were talking quietly among themselves, but not quietly enough. I heard whispers of "ridiculous," "scary - it could be me next," and "what about the First Amendment?" That last remark caught my interest. I'd learned about the Constitution in seventh grade, but I couldn't remember exactly what the First Amendment said. During study hall, I went to the library to check it out.

Mr. Counts, the librarian, was only too happy to help me. First he showed me where to find a copy of the Constitution so I could read the First Amendment. "Congress shall make no law," it says, "respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances." "It's the part about freedom of speech and of the press you'll find most interesting," Mr. Counts said. "That is, if you're wondering about Mr. Morley's rights." "I am," I told him.

"You may find this interesting too." Mr. Counts pulled a book out of a stack on his desk. "This is the most recent Resource Guide for banned books. It's put out every year by the American Library Association." . He handed me the oversized book, and I flipped through it. There was a list of every book banned or challenged in the past year, as well as a long list of books titled "Some People Consider These Books Dangerous." That list included all the books that have been banned or challenged over the years, from 387 B.C. to the present! "Some of those books have been burned," Mr. Counts said. "Others have been taken off library shelves or attacked publicly by people who wanted to keep, them from going on the shelves in the first place." "Wow," was all I could say. "There are a lot of familiar titles on this list." Some of them were on the list Ted had given us, including both books I was thinking about reading. And I remembered some of them from the last time I was exposed to book-banners: To Kill a Mockingbird, A Light in the Attic, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. But the list went on and on, naming books I never would have thought of as "dangerous" in any way. "In the Night Kitchen" I cried. "How could anybody have a problem with that?" It's a great picture book, right up there with Goodnight Moon.