Mrs. Jensen, whom I thought was old enough to be in danger of fossilizing at any moment, peered at me through her cat eye glasses.  It was one of those terrifying moments in life.  I slowly had come to the realization that my name had been called, and I also realized that I had no idea what the teacher had said or had asked just before calling my name.

I shifted uncomfortably in my desk chair.  Somewhere from the back of the classroom, a snicker made its devastating way to my ears.  I was on the verge of panic, not even sure whether we were studying math or history or English at the moment.  Thus, trying to guess an answer, where the appropriate response might actually be 42 or Abraham Lincoln or Psyche Zenobia, was nearly futile.

Up until that moment, I thought I had been having a great week, a lucky week.  Only the night before, after buying a pack of ten baseball cards from Spencer Drugstore, I had become the proud owner of an Albert Pujols baseball card!  I had tried so hard to get a card of Pujols – the previous summer I had spent forty dollars on baseball cards while trying to get a Pujols card, all to no avail.  But last night, last night indeed, had been my lucky night.  And perhaps it was my curse too, for I had been studying the Albert Pujols baseball card when Mrs. Jensen called on me.

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It was at that moment that Clovis caught my eye.  It wasn’t that he was looking at me – that would have been far too obvious, even for Mrs. Jensen – but, indeed, it was the fact that he wasn’t looking at me.  My friend was sitting two rows over and four chairs ahead, so I could see him easily.

Clovis was reading a magazine on baseball trivia.  Why was Clovis reading in class?  If you got straight A’s and never missed a question on a test or homework assignment – ever – the teacher would let you read anything you wanted in class too.