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"What do you want?" he pleaded.
I didn't dare stop playing. I knew my piccolo was keeping him at bay. But Mike stepped in. "Take off your mask!" he shouted.
"Your mask!" cried the others. "Take off your mask!"
"Anything!" said Broxholm. "Just stop that noise."
"First your mask!" cried the band.
Even Dr. Bleekman could see that there was something weird about his favorite teacher now.
He waited in silence.
I played my trill again.
Broxholm reached behind his head, and began to peel off his face. Behind us people started to scream. Someone cried "What is it? What's happening?"
"Oh, my G.o.d!" yelled someone else. "It's Mr. Smith-he's-he's-an alien!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
Out of This World I thought it was over. But I was wrong. Broxholm was still crouched against the wall, about two feet from the doors to the outside. The rest of us were about ten feet away from him, staring in horror at his strange alien features.
Suddenly the door to the left of Broxholm opened. It was Peter. He must have run out the front doors and circled around.
"Broxholm," he shouted. "This way. Run!"
The alien jumped to his feet and took off as if he had rocket-powered roller skates. As soon as he was through the door, Peter slammed it shut.
The rest of us started to run, too. Then Broxholm pulled something that looked like a thick pencil out of his pocket. He pointed it at the doors and fried them shut.
I started to tremble. He could have pointed that thing at me if he had really wanted to! He probably could have melted my piccolo to my lips.
Maybe old Broxholm wasn't so bad after all, I thought as I stood with my face pressed against the window, watching the alien and my best friend disappear into the night.
My best friend? I thought in surprise. But I knew was true. Peter was my best friend.
And now he was gone.
Someone had called the police. Pretty soon their cruisers came screeching into the school yard. My mother was flapping her hands and worrying that I might have some alien disease.
With all the yelling and shouting, it took the police a while to figure things out. But soon they put me in a patrol car and we hightailed it out to Broxholm's place.
We were only a block from his house, when we heard a roar, followed by a high whine. Then this thing-this beautiful huge silvery sphere with a wheel of lights spinning around it-lifted into the air ahead of us.
"Stop the car," I said.
I don't know why, but they did-probably because the ship was so amazing. I pushed my way past the policeman on my right and stood in the road, watching the ship rise on a column of purple light into the black night. "Goodbye, Peter," I whispered. "Have a good trip!"
I felt as if something hard had become stuck in my throat as I watched the ship soar higher and higher, until it was lost among the twinkling of the stars.
The police sealed off the house, just in case there were any aliens left inside. When they finally decided it was safe, I took them to see where Ms. Schwartz had been held prisoner.
I was afraid Broxholm might have taken her along. But when we climbed up into the attic, we found her sitting on the floor saying, "This is the worst headache I have ever had!"
"Ms. Schwartz!" I cried. I ran to her. She held out her arms and I fell into them. The two of us cried for a long time, which I think kind of confused the policemen.
The rest of the house was empty, except for a note from Peter we found stuck to the refrigerator door. He asked us not to worry and said that he would probably come back again someday.
And that was that. Things are back to normal now-at least, as normal as they ever get around here. Duncan has been picking on everyone he can. Mike and Stacy have regained their angelic reputations. (Though to tell you the truth, I wouldn't be surprised if they decide to get into a little mischief now and then just for the fun of it.) As for me, I'm doing fine-except when I play my piccolo. That's when I think of Peter.
Sometimes I go outside at night to look at the stars. I try not to think about how far away Peter is. I only remember how much he wanted to go there. I do wonder where he is and if he's seeing all the wonderful things he used to imagine when he was reading those crazy science fiction novels.
Of course, I never really wish I had gone with him. After all, I've got a family that loves me. I like my life here on Earth.
But I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to travel the stars with aliens.
Or maybe with earthlings. I've been studying my math pretty hard lately. I've kind of changed my mind about being an actress. I'm thinking maybe I'll be a scientist when I grow up.
I'd like to invent a ship-a ship that would take us right out of the solar system-out to explore all those distant stars that fill the sky at night.
Worlds where we would be the mysterious aliens.
Wouldn't that be something?
MY TEACHER IS AN ALIEN 1986, 2000 GENERAL LICENSING COMPANY and ebooks version 2000 ibooks inc and General Licensing Company, Inc.
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