Milo and the Substitute

Milo Parker had opinions about everything.

He had opinions about breakfast. Waffles were better than pancakes — obviously — because the little squares held more syrup.

He had opinions about socks. The seam should never, ever touch your toes.

He had opinions about the correct way to line up for recess. Tallest in the back, shortest in the front, no exceptions.

And he had very, very strong opinions about how things were supposed to go in Room 14 at Meadowbrook Elementary.

So on Tuesday morning, when Milo walked into class and saw a stranger standing at Mrs. Holloway's desk, his stomach did a little flip.

The stranger was tall — taller than Mrs. Holloway — with a big, bushy beard and a sweater vest covered in tiny pineapples. He was writing his name on the board in letters that were, in Milo's opinion, way too big.

MR. FRANK.

"Good morning, everyone!" the man said, smiling so wide that his beard stretched out sideways. "Mrs. Holloway is home with a cold today, so I'm your substitute teacher. You can call me Mr. Frank."

Milo slid into his seat. He opened his desk and pulled out his blue notebook — the one he used for Important Observations. He uncapped his favorite pen — black ink, fine tip, no smudging — and wrote at the top of a fresh page:

Things Mr. Frank Does Wrong.

He underlined it twice.

The first wrong thing happened almost immediately.

Mrs. Holloway always started the day with the Pledge of Allegiance, then attendance, then the weather report from whoever was Weather Monitor that week. It had been like this since September. It was correct.

Mr. Frank started with a joke.

"Why did the pencil go to the doctor?" he asked, leaning against the desk.

Nobody answered.

"Because it had a broken point!"

A few kids giggled. Milo did not. He wrote in his notebook:

One. Started with a joke instead of the Pledge.

Mr. Frank did eventually do the Pledge, but then he skipped the weather report entirely and went straight to reading time. Milo looked over at Sophia Chen, who was this week's Weather Monitor. She had her little weather chart ready and everything. She looked confused.

Two. Skipped the weather report. Sophia had her chart ready.

Milo tapped his pen on the page and frowned.

During reading time, Mr. Frank didn't sit at the desk like Mrs. Holloway. Instead, he sat right on the floor, criss-cross-applesauce, like he was one of the kids. He pulled out a book and started reading — but it wasn't the book they'd been reading all week. Mrs. Holloway had been reading Charlotte's Web, and they were on chapter eleven, and Milo needed to know what happened next.

Instead, Mr. Frank read from a book called The Pirates of Peppercorn Lane.

Three. Wrong book. We are on chapter eleven of Charlotte's Web. This is a pirate book.

Milo wrote this down firmly. But then something annoying happened.

Mr. Frank did voices. Different voices for every character. The captain had a growly, rumbling voice. The first mate had a squeaky voice like a mouse. And the parrot — the parrot had a voice so ridiculous, so completely and utterly silly, that the entire class burst out laughing.

Even Milo's mouth twitched. Just a tiny bit.

He looked down at his notebook and added: Voices were okay, I guess.

Then he crossed it out, because that wasn't the point.

At snack time, Mr. Frank let them eat at their desks instead of at the back table. Wrong. He also let them talk during snack, which Mrs. Holloway only allowed on Fridays.

Four. Eating at desks. Talking on a Tuesday.

During math, Mr. Frank didn't use the worksheet. Instead, he brought out a big bag of gummy bears and said they were going to learn subtraction by eating the problems.

"If you have seven gummy bears," Mr. Frank said, holding them up, "and you eat two... how many are left?"

"Five!" everyone shouted.

"Prove it," said Mr. Frank.

And they did. By eating two gummy bears.

Milo wrote: Five. No worksheet. Used candy instead.

He paused, looked at the five gummy bears on his desk, and ate one more. Then he wrote underneath: Gummy bears were the red kind, which is the best kind.

He crossed that out too.

By lunch, Milo's list had nine items. Mr. Frank lined them up wrong — no height order. He played music during art time, and Mrs. Holloway never played music. He called on kids by pointing instead of using the popsicle sticks with their names on them. He let them pick their own partners for science.

Milo sat in the cafeteria, looking at his notebook, and felt something strange. He'd been so busy writing everything down that he hadn't noticed something.

He'd been having... kind of a good day.

No. That couldn't be right. Everything was different. Different was wrong. Different meant things weren't the way they were supposed to be.

He chomped his sandwich and stared at the list harder.

After lunch, something happened that wasn't on any list.

They came back to the classroom and found Mr. Frank setting up a big piece of butcher paper on the floor. "Afternoon project," he announced. "We're making a class mural. Everyone gets a section. Draw whatever makes you happy."

Mrs. Holloway would never put paper on the floor. Mrs. Holloway used easels.

Milo grabbed his notebook and sat at his desk while everyone else crowded around the mural. He started writing: Ten. Paper on the floor—

"Hey, Milo?" It was Mr. Frank, kneeling beside his desk. "You've been writing in that notebook all day. Must be something pretty important."

Milo clutched the notebook. "It's... observations."

"Ah," said Mr. Frank, nodding seriously. "An observer. I respect that. You know what I've observed today?"

Milo shook his head.

"I've observed that you notice things other people don't. That's a pretty cool skill." Mr. Frank stood up. "There's a spot on the mural next to Sophia if you want it. But no pressure."

He walked away. Just like that. Didn't tell Milo he had to join. Didn't say the notebook was silly.

Milo looked down at his list. Ten things Mr. Frank did differently than Mrs. Holloway. Ten things that were wrong.

Except...

Sophia had laughed so hard at the pirate parrot voice that milk almost came out of her nose. And Jordan, who said he hated math, asked for a second subtraction problem because he wanted more gummy bears. And during art, when the music played, quiet little Amara had started humming along, and then singing, and she'd never done that before. Not once since September.

Milo read his list one more time. Then, slowly, he turned to a brand new page. At the top, he wrote:

Things Mr. Frank Does Differently.

He stared at the word differently for a moment. Then he put down the notebook, grabbed his markers, and went to the empty spot next to Sophia.

"What are you going to draw?" Sophia asked.

Milo thought about it. "A waffle," he said. "With a lot of syrup. In a pirate hat."

Sophia laughed. "That's weird."

"I know," said Milo, uncapping a yellow marker. And he smiled.

The next morning, Mrs. Holloway was back. She started with the Pledge, then attendance, then the weather report. Everything exactly the way it was supposed to be.

And Milo was happy about that. He really was.

But during reading time, when Mrs. Holloway opened Charlotte's Web to chapter eleven, Milo raised his hand.

"Mrs. Holloway? Have you ever read The Pirates of Peppercorn Lane?"

"I haven't," she said. "Is it good?"

"It's different," said Milo. "But yeah. It's really good."

Then he opened his notebook to a fresh page — just in case he had any new observations — and settled in to listen.