Mr. Cooper Is Super! Read online

  Dedication

  To Jonathan Streib

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Look! Up in the Sky!

  2. You Should Have Been There!

  3. Mr. Granite Is from Another Planet

  4. Saying Good-bye Is Sad

  5. The New Teacher

  6. Mr. Cooper Is Super!

  7. Rat Man

  8. The Attack of Super Librarian

  9. The Truth about Mr. Cooper

  10. The Big Surprise Ending!

  Back Ad

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  My name is A.J., and I hate it when an alien spaceship lands in the middle of the playground.

  You probably think that’s some kind of a joke. But it’s not. A joke would be, like . . .

  Q: Why do seagulls fly over the sea?

  A: Because if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.

  Get it? Seagulls? Baygulls? Bagels? Anyway, the point is that it was no joke. The other day at Ella Mentry School, an alien spaceship actually landed in the middle of the playground! For real!

  Let me explain. It was right after lunch. Me and the gang were at recess with our teacher, Mr. Granite. I borrowed a football from Michael, who never ties his shoes. I was throwing it back and forth with Ryan, who will eat anything, even stuff that isn’t food. Michael was playing on the monkey bars with Alexia, this girl who rides a skateboard all the time, and Neil, who we call the nude kid even though he wears clothes.

  “Hey, A.J.!” Michael shouted. “Give me the football back. It’s my turn.”

  “In a minute!” I hollered. “We’re not done yet.”

  “You should give Michael his ball, Arlo,” said Andrea Young, this annoying girl with curly brown hair. She calls me by my real name because she knows I don’t like it. “When you borrow something from somebody, you should return it when they ask for it.”

  “When are you going to return your face to the ugly person you borrowed it from?” I asked Andrea.

  “Oh, snap!” said Ryan.

  “That’s mean!” said Emily, Andrea’s crybaby friend.

  It was none of Andrea’s beeswax. I could tell she was going to say something mean to me, but she didn’t get the chance. Because that’s when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.

  “Look! Up in the sky!” shouted Michael.

  “It’s a bird!” shouted Ryan.

  “It’s a plane!” shouted Neil the nude kid.

  “It’s—”

  No, actually, it was a bird and a plane. You see birds and planes in the sky all the time. What’s the big deal? I went back to throwing the football around with Ryan.

  But a minute later, I noticed Mr. Granite. He was staring up at the sky. He had a weird expression on his face.

  “Look! Up in the sky!” shouted Alexia.

  “It’s a bird!” shouted Ryan.

  “It’s a plane!” shouted Neil.

  “No, it’s a spaceship!” shouted Michael.

  Yes, it was a spaceship. You probably still think I’m making all this up. But it’s true!

  When Mr. Granite became our third-grade teacher a million hundred months ago, I suspected that he was really an alien from another planet. There were two reasons. First, our principal, Mr. Klutz, told us there was a flying saucer in the teachers’ lounge.* Second, I noticed that Mr. Granite didn’t have any hair growing out of his nose or ears.

  My dad has hair growing out of his nose and ears. He even has this little machine he sticks in his nose and ears every few days so he can give himself a little haircut in there. All men have to trim their nose and ear hair. It’s the first rule of being a man. But Mr. Granite didn’t have any nose or ear hair at all. Clearly, he was not from planet Earth.

  To see if my theory was right, the gang and me snuck over to Mr. Granite’s house that day. We were like spies. It was cool. And guess what we saw? Mr. Granite was building a spaceship in his garage! The spaceship was powered by microwaved potatoes. We caught him red-handed.

  Mr. Granite admitted to us that he was born on the planet Etinarg, which is “granite” spelled backward. He told us he was planning to blast off and go back to Etinarg the next day. The only problem was that a cow bumped into his spaceship just as it was taking off. Mr. Granite parachuted out before his spaceship exploded, and he was forced to stay on Earth and teach third grade to us. It’s a long, sad story.*

  So anyway, back to what happened the other day during recess. We were all looking up in the sky. The spaceship was coming down, slowly. It was round and silver and spaceshipy-looking.

  “Run for your lives!” shouted Neil the nude kid.

  “I’m scared!” said Emily, who is scared of everything.

  “This is cool!” I said.

  At first I thought that maybe we were just having some kind of a drill. Like, we have fire drills all the time in case there’s ever a fire at school. Maybe this was a drill in case there’s ever an alien spaceship coming to take over the earth.

  But it wasn’t a drill. It was the real thing! A spaceship was about to land in the playground. You should have been there! We got to see it live and in person!

  Smoke poured out of the spaceship as it hovered over the playground.

  Colored lights were flashing.

  There was a weird humming sound.

  The spaceship touched down gently.

  All the smoke and lights and humming stopped.

  I looked at Michael. Michael looked at Ryan. Ryan looked at Neil. Neil looked at Alexia. Alexia looked at me. Then we all looked at Mr. Granite. He was staring at the spaceship.

  A ramp slid down from the bottom of the ship. And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years who walked out.

  I’m not going to tell you.

  Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to read the next chapter. So nah-nah-nah boo-boo on you.

  It was Mr. Granite!

  Well, it wasn’t our Mr. Granite, because he was standing right next to us. But the alien who came down the ramp of the spaceship looked just like Mr. Granite!

  Our teacher Mr. Granite just stood there with a look of wonder on his face.

  “Who are you?” we all asked the alien who looked just like Mr. Granite.

  “I am Mr. Granite,” said the alien.

  “You can’t be Mr. Granite!” said Andrea. “Mr. Granite is our teacher, and he’s standing right here.”

  “I am Mr. Granite,” repeated the alien who looked just like Mr. Granite.

  And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years what happened next.

  Ten more aliens climbed out of the spaceship and came down the ramp. And every one of them looked just like Mr. Granite!

  “Who are you guys?” we all asked.

  “I am Mr. Granite.”

  “I am Mr. Granite.”

  “I am Mr. Granite.”

  “I am Mr. Granite.”

  In case you were wondering, all the aliens were saying, “I am Mr. Granite.” That was weird.

  “Will the real Mr. Granite please stand up?” I asked.

  “They’re all the real Mr. Granite,” said our teacher Mr. Granite. “They have come from my home planet, Etinarg.”

  “Yes,” said the first alien. “Everybody on Etinarg is named Mr. Granite. Etinarg is ‘granite’ spelled backward.”

  Wow! A whole planet filled with guys named Mr. Granite? That must get confusing. I guess when somebody on Etinarg calls out, “Hey, Mr. Granite!” everybody turns around.

  “So all the men on your planet look exactly the same?” asked Ryan.

  “Yes,” said Mr. Granite, “and so do all the women.” />
  What?! Even the women look like Mr. Granite?

  “In fact,” said one of the alien Mr. Granites, “half of us are women.”

  Eeeeeeeeek! How do they tell the difference between men and women? I didn’t want to know.

  Our teacher Mr. Granite went over and hugged one of the alien Mr. Granites. Then all the other Mr. Granites went over to hug our Mr. Granite. Everybody was hugging everybody else.

  “Mr. Granite!” said Mr. Granite.

  “Mr. Granite!” said the alien who looked just like Mr. Granite.

  “Mr. Granite!”

  “Mr. Granite!”

  “Mr. Granite!”

  All the Mr. Granites were hugging each other and crying because they hadn’t seen our Mr. Granite in so long. It was like a meeting of Elvis impersonators, except they looked like Mr. Granite instead of Elvis.

  “Did the earthlings harm you in any way?” one of the Mr. Granites asked our Mr. Granite.

  “No,” Mr. Granite told Mr. Granite. “These are my students, and they were good to me.”

  “On Earth, we’re very well behaved,” said Andrea, who’s such a brownnoser that she’ll even kiss up to aliens from other planets.

  “What about the larger earthlings?” asked one of the Mr. Granites.

  “They have been very kind to me,” said Mr. Granite. “The principal of the school even gave me a key to the teachers’ lounge.”

  The teachers’ lounge is a magical secret place where they have hot tubs, back rubs, and all the ice cream and candy you can eat.

  “Are you going to take over the world and turn us into flesh-eating robots?” I asked one of the Mr. Granites.

  I saw that in a movie once. It was cool.

  “No,” said all the Mr. Granites.

  “Are you going to turn us into killer zombie robot slaves?” asked Michael.

  “No,” said all the Mr. Granites.

  “Then why are you here?” asked Alexia.

  “We have come to—”

  The alien Mr. Granite didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence, because at that very moment our principal, Mr. Klutz, came running out onto the playground.

  He has no hair at all. I mean none. His head is so shiny, it squeaks.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” asked Mr. Klutz. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

  No, a joke would be like . . .

  Q: What’s the difference between a guitar and a fish?

  A: You can’t tune a fish.

  Get it? Tune a fish? Tuna fish? Anyway, the point is that Mr. Klutz totally doesn’t know what a joke is.

  “These men and women are from the planet Etinarg,” Andrea told Mr. Klutz. “Their names are Mr. Granite.”

  “I figured that,” said Mr. Klutz. “They all look just like our Mr. Granite. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Mr. Granites?”

  That’s grown-up talk for “What are you doing here?”

  “We have a very important mission,” said one of the alien Mr. Granites. “We have come to take your Mr. Granite home with us, to Etinarg.”

  WHAT?!

  The alien Mr. Granites were going to take our Mr. Granite away! Everybody started yelling and screaming and freaking out.

  “Nooooooooo!”

  “Don’t gooooooooo!”

  As much as I hate to use the L word, we all love Mr. Granite. We didn’t want him to leave.

  “Mr. Granite has been teaching at our school for a long time,” said Mr. Klutz to the aliens. “Why are you suddenly showing up now?”

  Good question. That’s why Mr. Klutz is the principal.

  “We do apologize for our lateness,” said one of the Mr. Granites. “Etinarg is a hundred million light-years away from Earth. It took us a long time to get here. And besides, we got stuck in traffic.”

  He was definitely lying about that. I don’t even think they have traffic in outer space. Whenever my parents are late for anything, they always say they were stuck in traffic. That’s the first rule of being a grown-up.

  I wondered if the alien Mr. Granites were going to peel off their faces. Aliens are always peeling off their faces in the movies. That’s the first rule of being an alien. And peeling off your face is cool. I wish I could peel off my face.

  “Are you going to peel your faces off?” I asked the Mr. Granites.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” they all replied.

  The alien Mr. Granites reached up to the tops of their heads with both hands. All the girls screamed. I covered my eyes with my hands. I wanted to see the Mr. Granites peel off their faces, but at the same time I didn’t want to see what was underneath. What if it was scary? So I covered my eyes, but I opened my fingers so I could look between them.

  All the Mr. Granites pulled at the top of their heads. The heads opened up like pistachio nuts. Then they peeled their entire faces off!

  It was awesome. And you’ll never believe in a million hundred years what the Mr. Granites looked like underneath their faces.

  They looked exactly the same!

  “That was refreshing,” said one of the Mr. Granites as he threw his old face off to the side.

  “Hey!” Alexia said. “Those faces look just like the ones you peeled off!”

  “It never hurts to have an extra face,” said one of the Mr. Granites.

  Even though the peeled-off faces looked exactly the same as their regular faces, it was still pretty cool. It’s not every day you get to see a bunch of aliens peel their faces off.

  All the Mr. Granites started hugging and crying again. It was hard to tell which of the Mr. Granites was ours because they all looked the same.

  “I didn’t think you would ever come for me,” said our Mr. Granite.

  “We never forgot about you, Mr. Granite,” said one of the Mr. Granites.

  “We heard that you built a spaceship,” said another one of the Mr. Granites.

  “Yes,” said our Mr. Granite. “But a cow bumped into it when I was taking off. I almost died.”

  “That won’t happen this time, Mr. Granite,” said one of the other Mr. Granites. “We must leave now, before any more cows come around.”

  Everybody started yelling and sobbing and freaking out.

  “Don’t leave us, Mr. Granite!” begged Alexia.

  “Please please please please!” we all begged.

  Saying “please” over and over and over again usually works with grown-ups. At least, human grown-ups.

  “I have enjoyed my time on Earth as your third-grade teacher,” said Mr. Granite. “But Etinarg is my home. Now I must return to my own planet.”

  Everybody was moaning and groaning and freaking out.

  “Mr. Klutz, can’t you do something?” asked Emily. “You’re the principal!”

  “Yeah!” we all said.

  Mr. Klutz held up his hand and made a peace sign, which means “shut up.” Then he took a step forward to shake Mr. Granite’s hand.

  “You are a great teacher, Mr. Granite,” he said. “We will miss you here at Ella Mentry School.”

  “I’m not a teacher,” said Mr. Granite. “You must mean the other Mr. Granite.”

  “Oh yes,” said Mr. Klutz. “I’m sorry. It’s very confusing when you all look alike.”

  “No worries,” said all the Mr. Granites. They started moving up the ramp to go back inside their spaceship.

  The Mr. Granite who was our teacher went over to Mr. Klutz and they hugged.

  “We borrowed Mr. Granite from the good people of Etinarg,” Mr. Klutz told us. “But now we must return him. When you borrow something, you should always return it.”

  “I really enjoyed working at Ella Mentry School,” Mr. Granite said. “Leaving here makes me feel sad.”

  Everybody was choked up. Even Mr. Klutz looked like he was going to cry.

  Mr. Granite gathered all the kids in our class around him for a group hug.

  “I’m going to miss you kids more than anything else,” he said, tears in his eyes.

 
“We’re going to miss you too, Mr. Granite,” we all said.

  “When I get home,” said Mr. Granite, “I’m going to name my Etinarg friends A.J., Andrea, Ryan, Emily, Michael, Alexia, and Neil.”

  We were all sobbing and blubbering and blowing our noses into tissues.

  Well, only one nose per person. It would be weird to blow two noses.

  “I hope you kids will remember what I told you this year,” said Mr. Granite.

  I thought back and remembered some of the things Mr. Granite had told me during the year. . . .

  I before E except after C. Sit down. Be quiet. Stop talking. Tie your sneakers. Stop bothering Andrea. Stop talking. Stop picking your nose. No, you can’t go to the boys’ room now. Where’s your homework? Stop talking. Go to the principal’s office. Stop making armpit farts. . . .

  Ah, those were the good old days.

  Mr. Granite pulled himself away from us and climbed into the spaceship with all the other Mr. Granites. The ramp slid up into the ship. A few minutes later, the countdown began . . .

  10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . .

  Dark smoke started coming out of the spaceship.

  7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . .

  I could hear that weird humming sound.

  4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .

  Colored lights started flashing.

  1 . . .

  Just before the spaceship was about to take off, a window opened up. Mr. Granite poked his head out of the window and shouted to us.

  “Turn to page twenty-three in your math books . . .”

  But he never had the chance to finish his sentence.*

  We all watched as the spaceship with Mr. Granite inside lifted slowly up off the playground. This time there were no cows around to mess things up. The ship zoomed to the left. Then it zipped to the right. And then it was gone.

  Mr. Granite had left the planet.

  For a few seconds nobody said anything. There was nothing to say.