Tolovaj.com

Written by: Tomo Kočar

Translated by: U.T.A. prevajanje d.o.o.

Illustrated by: Samo Jenčič

When the teacher first handed out the tests, I got really scared. I couldn't find my crib sheets. Then I remembered I'd left them at home. Unfortunately, Ben couldn't help me either. Ben is the kid who sits next to me. He likes to eat very much. Just before we got into the classroom, he was munching on a sandwich dripping with fat. He had to wash his hands afterwards. It's a pity Beno doesn't make crib sheets. He writes the important stuff on his hands.

We spent a while staring into his clean palms. Then we peered through the window a little. We looked out at the trees, and silently argued about who'd be the first to make it to the top of the oak tree. It's a way of passing the time if you don't know the answers. Anyway, we like science better than English. We often go to the woods and scare squirrels with our catapults.

The teacher knew we weren't writing anything. She asked us if we wanted to hand in our test papers. We said we were just thinking. But thinking didn't help much. Wished we’d had our crib sheets.

We thought the questions were much too difficult. We couldn't answer a single one. We didn't even know who the biggest American poets were. I whispered to Ben that they were probably all quite short. I thought that because their photos in the textbook were small.

Ben shook his head and said I was an idiot. But that’s not true. At best I’m slightly ignorant. Usually, insults like that make me really angry. The teacher started eyeing us more closely, so I couldn't say anything to him. So I pinched him. He howled like a dog in heat, and set the whole class laughing. Even Penelope laughed. She's a nerd. That's why she wears glasses.

The teacher warned us to stop our silly behaviour. We did what she told us. It was only when she turned away that we gave her the v-sign. I asked Ben if he knew who the greatest American poets were. He said he had them on the tip of the tongue. Unfortunately, he couldn't scrape them off. I pulled his tongue out a bit, just in case, and peered at it, but couldn't find the greatest American poets.

Luckily, Jake sits at the desk next to us. We all like Jake very much. We love him when it snows outside. That's when we have snowball fights. He's got a massive head, which makes him an easy target.

Jaka, hasn't got a clue about English either. But he almost always carries a fishing rod with him. Like loads of times before, he put the test paper on the fishing hook, and lowered it through the window to the floor below. That's where his brother's classroom is. He’s in the sixth form, so he must know who the greatest American poets are. Jake says his brother is so smart because he's in the sixth form for the third year now. He’d learnt some stuff really well.

We waited for quite a while to get the test paper with the answers back. Ben put his hand up and asked the teacher if he could have another sandwich. She said no. Then he raised his hand again, and said he was sorry he hadn’t offered her some. The teacher gave a nervous giggle and waved her hand.

Then I put my hand up. The teacher wanted to know what it was this time. She'd become a bit irritated and red-faced. I told her that wasn't fair. She shouldn't let Ben starve, because it makes his stomach growl, and I couldn’t concentrate on the test. She hissed at me to be quiet. I could see her lips trembling even more. That usually meant she would soon start yelling. So Jake went ahead and asked if at least he could have a bite or two. The teacher exploded. She said she'd box our ears. It was great fun, and the time just flew by.

Finally, Jake's fishing rod started twitching. His brother had finished the test, and sent it back up. There was something else on the hook with the test paper. It was black and hairy, and soft to the touch. We thought it was a rag, so we chucked it out the window.

We later found out that what we’d hooked was Mr Fich's toupee. Mr Fich is Jake's brother's history teacher. He got very cold because we’d stripped him of his hair. Later that day he found his toupee in front of the school. He could hardly recognise it. It was a pity that some first year kids found it before he did. They’d kicked it around, trying to play football with it, because they couldn't find a better ball.

Mr Fich was very sad about his ruined toupee. But it was his fault. Next time he'd better glue or nail it to his head.

Anyway, Jake lent his test paper to Ben and me. We managed to copy all the answers before the teacher collected our work. Luckily, we sit in the back row. You can't really see the blackboard very well, but it makes it easier to copy answers.

The next day, the teacher gave us a real telling-off. She couldn't make any sense of our answers. It was only after she talked to the gym teacher that she found out that Jake, Ben and me had written about the tallest American  basketball players. We hadn't mentioned American poets once. Jake's brother certainly fooled us.

The teacher said we shouldn't be making fun of art, and handed us notes to take home to our parents.

This spoiled Ben's mood. During break he couldn't bring himself to eat a single bite. I told him it wasn't his fault. We agreed it was all Jake's fault. He was the only one who should be punished. To think that a fishing rod would help anyone solve an English test paper. A fishing rod instead of crib sheets?

Ben and I are going to give Jake a thorough beating after school. We just hope his brother won't show up. The third year in the sixth form has made him quite strong. No, we won't take any chances. We'll catch Jake on his own.

But we still don't know who the greatest American poets were.

This story was published in 2006 as one of the short stories in a book Lumpi iz 3.a, written by Tomo Kočar and illustrated by Samo Jenčič. If you need more information, please contact us at:

Zavod Tolovaj

Vojkova 91

1000 Ljubljana

Slovenia

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Phone: 01-568-1329

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