“Huh?” asked Myron.
“You can’t have it both ways,” said the bald man.
“Do you want to be safe?” asked one of the men with a mustache. “Do you want to sit in the same chair every day, and go up and down the stairs every time the bell rings?”
“You’ll have go to school five days a week,” said the other man with a mustache. “And you’ll have to go to bed at the same time every day.”
“But first you’ll have to brush your teeth,” said the other man with a mustache.
“And you won’t be allowed to watch TV until you finish your homework,” said the other man with a mustache.
“You’ll have to go inside when it rains,” said the other man with a mustache.
“But first you’ll have to wipe your feet,” said the other man with a mustache.
“Or you can be free,” said the bald man.
The man took a pencil and a piece of paper out of his attaché case. “So do you want to be safe, or do you want to be free?”
Myron looked at the three men. “I want to be free,” he said bravely.
The man with the attaché case wrote something on the piece of paper and gave it to Myron. “Sign here,” he said.
Myron couldn’t read the piece of paper. It was written in some kind of foreign language. He signed his name.
The man took the paper and pencil from Myron and put them back into his attaché case. “Okay, you’re free,” he said.
“Good luck, Myron,” said the bald man. “Here, I think you’ll need this.” He gave Myron his left sneaker, then reached up and pulled the chain. The light turned off.
Myron found himself alone in the darkness. He put his shoe back on, then hopped across the basement floor. He had no idea how to get back.
At last his hand hit against a pipe. But he still didn’t know which way to follow it, left or right. He didn’t even know if it was the right pipe. He turned left and continued hopping, keeping his finger on the pipe.
He was just about ready to turn around and try the other way when he nearly fell over the bottom stair.
He hopped up the stairs, and continued hopping all the way up to Mrs. Jewls’s room.
He was tired, sore, and dirty.
“You’re late, Myron,” said Mrs. Jewls. “Go write your name under DISCIPLINE, then return to your seat for the arithmetic test.”
But Myron didn’t feel like taking an arithmetic test. And he definitely didn’t want to write his name on the board.
So he sat on the floor.
And there was nothing Mrs. Jewls could do about it.
He was free.
After school Mrs. Jewls found Myron’s other sneaker in the teachers’ lounge, in the refrigerator.
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Chapter 8
The Best Part