Maxi and the Magical Money Tree by Tiffiny Hall

Author:Tiffiny Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-08-24T04:00:00+00:00

School sucks. I’m watching the clock tick, counting down to lunchtime as Mrs Halfbottom drones on. I try to imagine her outside the classroom habitat: going for a run, shopping at the supermarket, laughing with a friend over coffee. Teachers don’t seem to exist in the real world for most kids. I’ve seen students bump into my dad on the street when he’s wearing a sun visor instead of his tweed jacket and they can’t handle it.

‘Are you ready for the Chinese test?’ Josie asks me.

‘What test?’

‘We have a test on everything we’ve learnt so far, don’t you know? It’s a new regular Thursday thing that counts for eighty per cent of our marks this term. Last period.’ Josie looks to Stacey and they nod at each other.

I elbow Tyler sitting next to me. ‘You know about this?’

‘Nup,’ he says as worry shades his face pink. ‘I need to do well in Chinese if I’m going to do it as an elective next year.’

The bell rings and we hurry across the yard to the library, running into Dad. ‘Everything okay?’ he asks. He is carrying an armload of test papers from the senior students. Honestly, how can he look so happy at school? Stress is invading my body, starting with a hammering headache.

‘We have a Chinese test and we’re not prepared,’ I say quickly.

‘Remember both success and failure are fraudulent,’ Dad says.

Tyler looks up at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Kipling says you should treat great success and great failure as just the same, because life has a way of evening out. So don’t get a big head if you do really well on an exam and don’t think the world’s over and be discouraged if your Chinese test doesn’t go your way.’

‘I’d rather a big head than a dumb head,’ Tyler says.

Dad shrugs.

‘Gotta go study. See ya later, Mr Edwards,’ I say, interrupting them. Can’t risk too much Dad-time in the playground — kids will start talking.

Tyler has practically broken out in a stress rash. My heart is pounding; I’ve never failed a test before. We skip lunch and study instead, then study more on the sly all through English. We walk into Chinese, exhausted and ravaged by nerves. We take our seats and pull out our pencils.

I put up my hand. ‘Excuse me, miss. How long do we have?’

‘Settle down,’ the teacher calls to the class who are buzzing after a lunchtime game of soccer. Even if I didn’t have to study, I wouldn’t have played anyway. Santa cheerleads by beating a trash-can lid with an old plastic doll, the drumming whipping the kids into a frenzy, but I’m against domestic toy violence.

‘For what?’ the teacher asks me.

‘The test,’ Tyler says. His face is burning up.

The teacher turns to the whiteboard and starts to write characters with a squeaky faded marker. ‘There’s no test today,’ she says, between more ‘settle downs’.

Tyler and I spin around to face Josie and Stacey who burst out laughing. The whole class cracks up. Stacey has convinced everyone to be in on it? We sink into our seats and glare at her.

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