Fuzzy Takes Charge by Bruce Hale

Author:Bruce Hale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

No time to think. In one continuous movement, Fuzzy toppled the wastebasket, rolled it against the chair leg, and launched himself up onto it.

The door creaked open. Electrified with fright, Fuzzy lunged for the narrow opening at the top of the bag. As he leaped, the bin rolled away from under him.

Yikes! Fuzzy stretched to his limit, just managing to snag the satchel.

Thunk-thunk-thunk went Mr. Brittle’s heavy footfalls against the checkerboard tiles. The desk would block Fuzzy from sight for another few seconds, but he had to move fast. Clinging to the lip of the bag with both paws, Fuzzy hauled himself up—he really was going to start doing chin-ups tomorrow—and jammed his head and shoulders under the flap.

The footsteps drew nearer as Fuzzy made one last titanic effort, pulling and wriggling for all he was worth. At last, he squeezed himself through the opening and tumbled to the bottom of the satchel. Instantly, he froze.

“Now, what … ?” Mr. Brittle’s voice sounded very near. “How did this happen?”

Fuzzy guessed that the man had noticed the overturned wastebasket.

“Must have kicked it when I got up,” the sub muttered. “What a time waster—that ditz disappeared.”

The inside of Mr. Brittle’s bag smelled of old leather and eucalyptus. In the dimness, Fuzzy could just make out a packet of throat lozenges, along with a notepad, calculator, textbook, a few loose sheets, and a red apple. He heard a rustle of papers somewhere nearby and the faint toonk-toonk as the teacher rapped the edges on the desk to align them.

A jolt shot through him like he’d licked a light socket. Any second now, Mr. Brittle would shove his things into the messenger bag, and Fuzzy did not want to be discovered when he did. Lying down, he grabbed some paper and pulled it over him. It wasn’t perfect, but it might hide him from a casual glance.

Sure enough, the satchel rocked as Mr. Brittle opened the flap and slid a sheaf of papers inside. Since the man said nothing, Fuzzy guessed his fur hadn’t been spotted. He let out a long sigh of relief.

Then a heavy book landed on his back, and Fuzzy went “Oof!”

He froze. Had the substitute heard him?

“What the … ?” Mr. Brittle muttered.

Fuzzy clenched his jaw. It was all over now. As soon as the man plunged his hand into the bag, he’d find Fuzzy and return him to his cage. Probably he’d make the cage permanently escape-proof, then ship Fuzzy off to a pet store in Peru.

So much for the backup plan.

Beedle-deedle-dee. An electronic warble sounded.

“Yes?” said Mr. Brittle.

Fuzzy braced himself. Any second now that hand was coming …

“Uh-huh,” said the sub. “I see. No, I ordered them in brown. B-R-O-W-N. What? No, check the order form. Are you blind as well as useless? Hmm?”

Amazingly, the bag’s flap flopped down again, and the satchel lurched as it was lifted into the air. When Mr. Brittle slung the bag over his shoulder, Fuzzy felt the thump in his back molars.

“Oh, really?” said the teacher.

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