Philip Gets Even (9781597050807), page 7
“Could we move it along, sir?” said Mr. Greif.
Mr. Conway banged his cane twice, and the auditorium filled with giggles again.
“I will now reveal the truth.” Mr. Conway carefully sliced open the brown paper and tore it away. On the easel were what looked like large, shiny, white, blank pieces of paper.
“Mr. Conway,” said Mr. Greif. “There’s nothing there.”
“Oh, there’s plenty here.” Mr. Conway threw his cane to the floor and took the first big, blank paper. He turned to the audience and pointed the unseen side of the paper right at Mr. Greif, a few feet below him.
“What!” said Mr. Greif in surprise.
The children in the first few rows gasped.
“This,” said Mr. Conway, “is a blown-up photograph, which I took yesterday through that window with my fancy new camera.”
Everyone in the auditorium turned to get a look at the window.
“It shows Johnny Visco creeping from the back of the stage toward these artworks.” Mr. Conway dropped the giant photo to the floor and took the next one.
“This second one shows Johnny Visco poking holes in Philip and Emery’s painting.” He dropped that photo and took the third one. “This photo shows Johnny Visco throwing the painting on the floor.” He dropped it and grabbed another. “And this final photograph shows Johnny Visco sneaking off the back of the stage. And this,” he concluded, removing a large piece of white paper that was not a photograph and revealing a painting beneath it, “is the original painting Everyday Things. The painting that Johnny Visco destroyed was a fake that I painted very quickly over the weekend.”
The children in the auditorium erupted in conversation.
Johnny Visco was crying out that it was all lies.
Mr. Greif took Mr. Conway’s cane from the stage and began banging it on the floor to call for quiet.
Ms. Trinetti picked up the photos from the floor and examined them again.
“Hey,” Mr. Conway shouted at the principal. “Easy there unless you want to carry me home.”
Mr. Greif muttered something and handed the cane up to Mr. Conway.
Children who had paintings in the contest shouted Ms. Trinetti’s name and wanted to know who won.
Ms. Trinetti stood on the stage, a sad look on her face, just shaking her head. Philip thought he saw a tear roll down her cheek.
Mr. Conway stood on the stage, shaking his cane in Johnny Visco’s direction.
“Please,” Mr. Greif called. “Teachers, take your classes back to their rooms.”
Finally, the tumult ceased and only Philip’s class and Johnny Visco’s class remained.
“Johnny,” said Mr. Greif, “come sit here.” He pointed to a chair in the first row. Johnny Visco got up and bulled his way through the aisle, stepping on people and muttering things no one could understand. “Philip and Emery, over here,” and he pointed to two seats across the aisle from Johnny Visco.
“Ms. Louis, Mr. Ware, you can both take your classes, too. Mr. Conway, come down from there. Let’s the five of us go to my office. We have some things to discuss.”
~ * ~
Mr. Greif talked to Philip, Emery, and Mr. Conway while Johnny Visco sat outside his office and waited for his mother to arrive.
After Mr. Greif finished with them, Johnny Visco and his mother went into the office.
“We didn’t think you were going to make it in time,” said Philip.
“Dang photo store. Everything was a big deal. I stayed there yesterday afternoon, last night, and all day today to make sure they’d have those pictures ready on time. Felt like I was living in that dang mall. They do have good French fries in the food court I found out.”
“No wonder we couldn’t find you,” said Emery. “We kept calling you to make sure you didn’t fall asleep.”
“Sleep! Bah! Too excited to sleep. Had to see justice done.”
Johnny Visco and his mom weren’t inside long before the door opened and they came out. Mrs. Visco’s face was red and Johnny’s face was angry. He glared at Philip and Emery as he walked by, his mother tugging on his arm.
Mr. Greif stood in the doorway, running one hand through his hair. “Well, that’s all over. Come in and I’ll tell you the end of the story.”
~ * ~
Philip and Emery got permission to stay at Mr. Conway’s house for dinner—an order of pizza—and while they waited for the pizza to arrive they celebrated. Mr. Conway told the boys to close their eyes. They did and heard him shuffle around the room. When they opened their eyes, on the coffee table in front of them sat a big blue bowl of M & Ms.
Philip and Emery gave a cheer. “No cupcakes?” said Emery and Mr. Conway laughed.
“I can paint, but I can’t bake. Stand there.” Mr. Conway went to get the camera his son had sent him for his birthday. “I’m an expert by now. Smile,” he said. “Good, one more. Wait, last one. One for each of us. I think I might even learn how to use that DVD contraption after all of this.”
“Do you really think Johnny Visco’s mom is going to put him into another school like Mr. Greif said?” said Philip, digging into the M & Ms.
Mr. Conway shrugged. “I heard what you heard. But you were sure right, Philip. You said if we got Johnny boy angry enough he’d try to wreck our painting, and we could catch him in his mischief. And we sure did.”
“I’m just glad his new school is six blocks in the other direction,” said Philip.
“Don’t worry,” said Mr. Conway. “If he bothers you even once, Mr. Greif’ll have the police on him.”
“You think he meant it?” said Emery.
“As long as Johnny boy thinks he means it, that’s all that matters,” said Mr. Conway. “And he’s suspended from your school for five days. So that probably means you’ve seen the last of little Johnny boy.”
“Thats okay with me,” said Philip.
“Me, too!” said Emery.
“But that principal of yours should have believed everything you told him from the beginning,” said Mr. Conway, punctuating his remark with two bangs of his cane.
“We didn’t really tell him much about Johnny Visco,” said Philip. “At least until you phoned him. We were too scared. And he’s going to take that suspension off our permanent records. That made my mother happy when I told her.” When Philip called to get permission to eat at Mr. Conway’s house, he’d told her the good news.
“But he didn’t have to apologize for taking that day of school away from us,” said Emery. “He can have more if he wants.”
Philip and Mr. Conway laughed.
“I guess we’ll never find out who won the contest,” said Philip.
“I think your poor art teacher is ready to resign,” said Mr. Conway, shaking his head. “Last I saw her, she was backstage crying. But never mind about that. Come upstairs with me. I have something to show you.”
Each boy grabbed a handful of M & Ms and followed Mr. Conway slowly up the stairs to his studio.
“Point yourself toward that covered painting there and close your eyes,” said Mr. Conway.
A moment later Mr. Conway said, “Okay, now look.”
“Whoa!” said Emery.
“That’s us!” said Philip.
Mr. Conway had painted two caped superheroes flying above the city. One had Philip’s face and one looked like Emery.
“The M on each costume makes you the M & M superheroes, of course,” he laughed. “And look down here.”
At the bottom of the painting was an evildoer running away from the M & M superheroes. And on the seat of his pants were the initials J. V.
“We know who that is, don’t we, boys?” said Mr. Conway and the boys laughed. “I only had time to do one painting, but I’m going to paint another just like it and, when I finish, you can each have one to hang on your wall.”
“Wow!” each boy cried.
“Thanks, Mr. Conway,” said Philip.
“Yeah, thanks a lot,” said Emery.
The doorbell rang.
“There’s the pizza,” said Emery.
“I heard it. I heard it,” said Mr. Conway. “You boys run ahead and get the door.”
He reached into his pocket and gave Philip the money. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Philip and Emery tore down the stairs.
The party was just beginning.
Meet John Paulits
John Paulits’s fiction has appeared in various magazines (The Mendocino Review, Crossroads, Labyrinth and others) and ezines (Dark Moon Rising, The Harrow, and others) over the past twenty years. Four of his children’s novels have been translated into Chinese and published in Taiwan and a fifth has been publishing in the U. S. Mr. Paulits is a former teacher in the New York City public school system. He is married, lives in New York and has a daughter now living in Boston.
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Paulits, John, Philip Gets Even (9781597050807)
