Philip Gets Even (9781597050807) Read Free Page B

done on your own time.
I can give you most of the necessary materials. Make a list of what
you think you’ll need, and when we meet again on Wednesday, I’ll
try to fill your requests. Any questions?”
    Albert raised his hand.
    “Yes, Albert,” Ms. Trinetti said slowly.
    “Did you say we could work with
partners?”
    Ms. Trinetti looked at the small boy in
wonder. “Do you have a twin brother, Albert? Because a boy who
looks just like you just asked me that very question.”
    Albert shook his head, a big smile on his
face. “I just want to be sure.”
    “Albert, you may have a partner. And your
twin brother may have a partner, too.”
    The class giggled and Albert cast a
suspicious look over the room.
    “Where was I? Oh, yes. On Wednesday I’ll give
you whatever you need, so you’ll have more than a week to create
your art. Bring it to class on Friday, and I’ll drive it to the
gallery in the mall. Any questions?”
    Albert raised his hand.
    “Now you’re triplets, Albert?” Ms. Trinetti
said with a tight smile.
    Albert shook his head. “Can I go to the
bathroom?”
    Ms. Trinetti shook her head slowly. “No,
Albert. We’re all going home now. Class, line up and I’ll walk you
to the yard.”
    ~ * ~
    When Mr. Conway opened his front door, the
boys were laughing hard. They’d been discussing Albert as they
walked.
    “Well, glad to see you in such a good mood.
Come in. Come in. Did you make your lists? Hello, hello. Testing.
One, two, three. Dang!”
    Philip and Emery stopped and looked at Mr.
Conway.
    “Hearing aid. Testing it. Hello. Hello. It’s
good, I think. Say something.”
    Philip said, “Hello.”
    “Good, yes. I can hear you. Did you make your
lists?”
    Philip handed the list he’d copied during
math to Mr. Conway, who took it and went to his soft chair and sat
down. He fumbled with his glasses, pushed them up his nose and
looked over the list, mumbling aloud as he read to himself.
    “Good. Good. Looks good.”
    “Our teacher said she would give us the stuff
we need to do the painting on Wednesday.”
    “Wednesday? No sirree. We’re not going to
wait until any dang Wednesday to get to work. I have everything you
need right upstairs. Come on, boys. Follow me.” He led them to the
stairs. “Ready, boys?”
    They nodded.
    “Well, then. Charge!” Mr. Conway thrust his
arm out as if he was stabbing somebody. Then he started up the
stairs, putting each foot on every stair as he climbed.
    The boys watched him for a moment and then
looked at each other.
    Philip shrugged. “Charge?”
    “Yahoo!” said Emery softly.
    ~ * ~
    Philip and Emery visited Mr. Conway every
afternoon and also spent much of Saturday and Sunday with him. Mr.
Conway made them practice drawing and painting everything over and
over before they actually painted it on the main canvas. And every
day when they’d gone into Mr. Conway’s studio, the canvas was
turned a different way as it lay on the easel. Now, things pointed
every which way.
    By the next Wednesday afternoon the final
touches had been added, and Philip and Emery stood before their
masterpiece. Each boy twisted his head to the left and to the
right, picking out different items. There were interesting things
no matter where they looked.
    “Wow!” said Emery softly. “There’s a lot of
stuff in there.”
    “It’s beautiful, boys,” said Mr. Conway,
staring at the painting. “An A-1 prizewinner if I’ve ever seen one.
It’s full of more nonsense than the daily newspaper.” He laughed a
moment at his own joke.
    “I wish we were entering that Spiderman
painting. We’d win for sure,” said Philip.
    Mr. Conway’s latest painting, unfinished at
the moment, had Spiderman swinging out over a busy street toward a
gruesome looking villain on the next roof.
    “They don’t want real art,” cried Mr. Conway.
“Nonsense, they want nonsense. Pickles and pig’s feet is what they
want.”
    “Just an expression!” called Philip and Emery
together.
    “Dang