Cheater – A Tale

Billy Jackson stared at the quiz in front of him. He didn’t know the answer to any of the questions. Mr. Brackett, his English teacher, was walking around the classroom, every now and then helping a student, but more often shouting at them to quit talking, or to sit down and stop throwing things around the room.\

“That’s enough of that!” yelled Mr. Brackett to Arthur Weasel, who was noisily tossing magnets up at the metal air conditioner grate. Arthur smirked, and then threw a final, clattering handful at the grate. Now angry, Mr. Brackett’s face turned as red as his ridiculous tie. He stomped around between desks, just waiting to catch another kid talking. Muffled giggles filled the room.

Billy looked at the quiz again and knew this would be another failure for him. He just didn’t understand the finer points of English, and he really didn’t care. Two weeks before, Mr. Brackett had asked, “Billy, what is a verb?”

Billy had answered, “An insect.”

Mr. Brackett had quickly tossed Billy out of the room that time, yelling at him as he left, “Every sixth grader except you knows what a verb is! Get outta here!” Even now, Billy still didn’t know what a verb was because Mr. Brackett had never bothered to tell him. Of course, Billy could have just looked it up in the English book, but that was boring.

Now the quiz sat on the desk in front of him like a malevolent spirit. Billy had to do something. He looked around the room. Mr. Brackett was up in front now, writing down the names of all the bad kids and not really paying attention. Billy looked over at Clyde Bean, who sat next to him. Clyde was the smartest kid in class, and he wrote with large, thick letters. Billy could easily see the answers that Clyde was writing on the quiz. Billy came up with a great idea. He crouched down in his seat, positioning himself directly behind Charlie Van Brocklin, the kid who sat in front of him. Now that Mr. Brackett couldn’t see him, Billy looked over at Clyde’s paper and copied the answers as Clyde wrote them. Oh yes, this will be an A paper, thought Billy.

After class, while playing basketball on the playground, Clyde Bean came up to Billy just as Billy was aiming for the basket. Clyde spoke in a whiny voice. “I saw you copying my answers for the quiz. You’d better stop that.”

Billy shot the ball, a perfect swish through the hoop, and said, “What are you going to do about it, Clydie-boy?”

Clyde scrunched up his nose. “Just stop copying from me. That’s cheating, and cheating is wrong!”

Billy got the ball again and shot. “If you don’t like it, do something about it. Otherwise, go read one of your wimpy books or something, and leave me alone.”

A couple of days later, Billy got the quiz back. Just as he knew would happen, a large red A was written at the top, along with the words, Good Work! Billy smiled over at Clyde, who quickly frowned and turned away.

That afternoon, the principal came into Mr. Brackett’s classroom and asked Billy to come with him. Billy tried to remember what he had done wrong that day. At recess, he had kicked Buck Wermer in the leg. During Mr. Clapper’s class, he had poked Quince Marlow in the elbow with a sharp pencil. During the second recess, he had bonked a fourth grader in the head with a basketball, though that was only half on purpose. All the things he did wrong were just normal things that a lot of kids did. He couldn’t think of anything that was a big enough crime to get called to the principal’s office for. Maybe they were giving him an award for something!

Billy sat squirming in the stiff, wooden chair in the principal’s office, which smelled like dusty books and pencil shavings. The principal came in, sat down at his big desk, and gave Billy a hard look. “Billy, a student has told us that you cheated on an English quiz. Is this true?”

Billy couldn’t believe it. Clyde Bean had told on him! “No way! I didn’t do it!”

The principal looked at Billy closely. “Tell the truth, Billy.”

Billy could see that it was no use denying it. “Yes, I did it. But it’s only

because Mr. Brackett can’t teach. He’s a bad teacher! Plus, he stinks! And I was hungry that day! And there was a fly bothering me!” Billy felt his heart beating fast.

The principal spoke softly. “You know that cheating is wrong, don’t you?”

Billy started his fake crying thing. Through false tears, he blubbered, “I know. I know. It’s just that I don’t understand the English homework. I can’t do it!” Billy couldn’t tell if the crying thing was working or not. The principal stared at him. Finally, he spoke.

“I’ve looked at your grades in Mr. Brackett’s class. You’re failing English. There are only three weeks left to get your grades up. If you fail, you’ll have to go to summer school. Would you like that?”

Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Summer school? No way! He wanted to go to Camp Big Pines for summer, not to school! “I’ll study hard and not cheat any more,” he sniffed.

The principal opened the office door. “Okay. Go back to class. I’ll speak to your parents about this.”

It seemed to Billy that his fake crying might have worked.

But that night, Billy’s parents were upset. His mother hovered over him while Billy completed his homework. His father checked each problem to make sure Billy had written the correct answer. Billy found that it wasn’t really that hard to do the English homework if he just read the instructions closely. But he still hated doing it. He couldn’t imagine having his parents checking on him like this every night, so he came up with a great idea.

“Mom, I would probably do a lot better if I had a classmate work with me each night. We could check each other and make sure we’re doing the work the right way.”

His mother frowned. “Who would come over?”

“Gilbert Ramen,” said Billy.

Billy’s mother smiled. “Gilbert seems like a very nice boy. Alright, let’s try it.”

The next evening, Billy sat at the big table in the dining room with Gilbert Ramen. Gilbert was small and wore thick, black glasses. He wasn’t much fun, but he was smart. He lived across the street.

Billy opened his book. “Okay, Gilbert, let’s work together on this.”

Gilbert blinked and took off his glasses. His eyes were beady and small. He flipped through his English book. “Page fifty, problems one through twenty.”

Billy found the page and looked at the problems. They were boring. Something about “Pronouns and Antecedents.” Who on earth could care about such things? He looked at the instructions. They didn’t make any sense. On his paper, Billy started drawing a cartoon of Mr. Brackett with a fat belly and fire coming out of his nostrils.

Gilbert looked up. “We’ll never get this done if you don’t help.”

Billy tried to do the homework, but his mind was somewhere else. He was thinking about Camp Big Pines, where he’d be in just four weeks. He thought about the lake, the fishing, the campfire songs, and how he would be the fastest swimmer this year and win the Golden Fish Award. He wondered which cabin he’d be in. The best one was Cabin Three, which had a window that you could sneak out of at night to raid the camp kitchen for cookies and ice cream. Then he noticed that Gilbert had already finished all twenty questions. He was done! How could he do that so quickly?

“Wow. You’re fast!” said Billy.

Gilbert put his glasses back on. “It’s real easy if you read the instructions first. Look, I have to get home for dinner.”

“Wait!” said Billy. “Let me copy your answers. I will study it, but tonight I also have to do my geography and math work.”

Gilbert shook his head. “Nope. We’re not supposed to be copying from each other. Cheating is wrong.”

“Duh, I know that! I’ll learn it. I just have to get through this night. Come on!”

So Gilbert allowed Billy to copy his answers, and then he left. Billy thought about doing his other homework, but went into the living room and played with the cat instead.

Gilbert came to Billy’s house each evening that week, and Billy convinced Gilbert to let him copy the homework every time. Finally, on Friday, Gilbert told Billy, “I’m not coming over any more. I do all the work, and you just copy my answers.”

Billy didn’t care. He had a whole week of good grades, and he didn’t like Gilbert anyway.

On the first day of the following week, Billy tried really hard on his English homework because he didn’t have anyone to help him any more.  He read the first sentence of the instructions. Something about “Comparing with Adjectives.” It was so boring! Sarah, his older sister, sat across the table from him.  A pile of magazines lay on the table in front of her. Sarah was going through the magazines and cutting out interesting photos for a collage project for her high school art class. She held up a photo she had just cut out. “Pretty cool, huh?” she asked.

Billy glanced at the photo. Just a picture of a stupid octopus. “It looks smelly,” he said.

Sarah laughed. “I think it looks like you.”

Billy didn’t care what she thought. He had to get the homework done. Then he came up with a great idea. “Sarah, even though you’re in high school, I bet you’re not as smart as you think.”

Sarah cut out another picture. “Smarter than you.”

Billy smiled. “Okay. I’m going to test you.” Billy looked at the first question in his book. “What is the superlative form of the word “jealous?”

Sarah giggled. “That’s so easy. “Most jealous.”

Billy wrote the answer down. “Pretty good. Now, what’s the comparative form of the word “small?”

Sarah absentmindedly examined her pile of magazine pictures. “Too easy. It’s “smaller.”

Billy wrote the answer on his paper.

Sarah looked at him suspiciously. “What are you writing?”

“I have to keep score,” said Billy. “Now, what’s the superlative form of the word “comical?”

Sarah studied a cut-out picture of a tree. “Too easy again! “Most comical,” of course. This is a boring game.”

Billy wrote the answer on his sheet. “It’s not boring. It’s fun! Come on, just seventeen more to go.”

In five minutes, Billy had all of the answers to his homework. He slapped the English book shut and got up from the table. Sarah looked at him. “So what was my score?” she asked.

“You failed,” said Billy. Then he went into the living room to play with the cat.

Every evening that week Billy played the game with Sarah. She never figured out what was going on. Billy got an A on each paper. He could almost smell the marshmallows roasting over the fire at Camp Big Pines.

Finally, it was the last week of school. On Monday morning, Mr. Brackett took Billy aside. He smelled like breath mints. “Billy, you’ve really improved your grades in the last couple of weeks,” he said. “I’ve added up all your grades, and you have an F right now, but if you do well on the final quiz tomorrow, you can bring the grade up to D-minus and pass the class. The quiz will cover all of Unit Three.”

Billy said confidently, “Don’t worry, Mr. Brackett. I’ll study real hard.”

That night, Billy opened his English book to Unit Three. He didn’t remember anything, so he started at the first section, which covered something called “Articles and Demonstratives.” Billy tried to read the instructions, but they were boring. Why couldn’t they make learning English more fun? After a couple of minutes, he went into the living room to play with the cat.

On Tuesday, Mr. Brackett made everyone sit in different seats before passing out the quiz. Billy got put in the front corner. He looked down at the quiz. The very first question read, “What is a verb?” Billy couldn’t believe it. How dare Mr. Brackett ask such a question? It was too hard! Then he came up with a great idea. He would just copy again. One day he’d learn it, but he just had to get through this last quiz. Billy looked over at the student sitting next to him, and his heart dropped. There sat Ed Thudmurk, the dumbest kid in class. Copying from Ed Thudmurk was a guaranteed fail. Billy turned a little in his seat and saw that the student behind Ed Thudmurk was Clyde Bean. If he could get away with turning just enough to see Clyde’s paper, he might have a chance. But then Billy looked up, and Mr. Brackett was staring right at him. “Billy, turn around in your seat and look at your own paper,” he said.

Billy was stuck. There was nothing he could do and nobody to copy from. He looked at the first question again. “What is a verb?” Billy tried to remember what a verb was, but only remembered that he had never learned what a verb was. Finally, he wrote, “A verb is a small vegetable” in the blank next to the question.

A couple of weeks later, on the first day of summer school, Billy sat in the back corner of Classroom 200. A fly buzzed around his head, deftly avoiding Billy’s annoyed swats. Mr. Brackett stood at the blackboard, busily writing some boring nonsense about “Imperatives and Interrogatives.” As Mr. Brackett’s voice droned on, Billy lazily doodled on the paper in front of him. He drew a lake with a rowboat. Then he drew a boy standing in the rowboat. The boy held a fishing pole. Then he drew the fish the boy was catching. It was the biggest fish ever caught in the history of Camp Big Pines.