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Odd Socques
Macques was dreading the spelling test. The minute he walked into class and saw the
substitute teacher sitting at Ms Conway’s desk, he knew there’d be one.
Substitute teachers always did spelling tests.
‘Good morning 6C,’ said the substitute teacher. ‘Ms Conway is away today. My name’s
Mr Green.’
Macques could see something bulging in Mr Green’s jacket pocket.
Spelling test prizes.
‘Good morning, Mr Green,’ chanted the class.
‘OK, 6C,’ said Mr Green. ‘I’ve heard you’re very good at maths and spelling. Would
you rather have a maths test or a spelling test?’
Macques sighed gloomily.
He knew exactly what was coming.
‘Spelling,’ yelled the class.
Mr Green looked around at all the shining eyes and excited faces. He allowed himself
a quiet smile.
A spelling class.
He’d spotted it the minute they walked in.
Then Mr Green spotted something else. A boy up the back, a boy with brown hair and
a sad face, who didn’t seem very delighted at all.
Can’t be helped, thought Mr Green. Every class has at least one bad speller.
He pulled the bag of mini chocolate bars from his jacket pocket and waited for the
cheer a teacher with lollies always got.
It didn’t happen.
Mr Green looked around the class, surprised.
‘A mini chocolate bar for every word you get right,’ he said, in case this lot were a bit
slow and didn’t get how substitute teacher spelling tests worked.
Still no cheer.
Mr Green felt a moment of panic.
But only a moment. The class were still looking excited and enthusiastic. Eyes still
gleaming and lots of smiles. Except the boy up the back.
How unusual, thought Mr Green. This lot seem to like spelling tests more than they
like lollies.
He decided to keep the words simple, in case he was right the first time and they were
a bit slow.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘First word. Pivot. Hands up.’
Hands shot up.
Mr Green chose a girl at the front.
‘P-I-V-O-T,’ said Jane Dillon.
‘Good,’ said Mr Green and tossed her a chocolate. ‘Next word, diesel.’
Sam Webster got it right.
Over the next few minutes the class also got snail, patch, gravity, blood, digital,
drought, tickle and splash.
Macques wasn’t surprised. He knew from experience the class were good spellers.
They’ll probably get every single one, he thought gloomily. Until Mr Green asks them
the one they’re waiting for.
Which, a few minutes later, Mr Green did.
‘Fax,’ he said, taking another mini chocolate bar from the bag. ‘Listen carefully. Not
facts, fax.’
Every hand in the room shot up. Except Macques’s.
Mr Green pointed to Tina Walsh.
‘F-A-C-Q-U-E-S,’ said Tina.
Mr Green looked at her, his hand frozen in mid-toss, the mini chocolate bar still
between his fingers.
Strange, he thought. I wasn’t told about any special needs students in this class.
Perhaps she’s just a comedian.
He gave her a quick frown, then pointed to the boy next to her.
‘You have a go,’ he said. ‘Fax.’
‘F-A-C-Q-U-E-S,’ said Garth Spence.
Mr Green felt his face going hot.
OK, he knew what this was. Not a spelling test. A substitute teacher test.