Class Six and the Nits of Doom by Sally Prue Read Free Book Online

shook his chins. ‘That’s not nits,’ he said. ‘Nits are ordinary, like veruccas and tooth rot. They don’t make your nose get bigger.’
    ‘They don’t make your toes turn bright green, either,’ said Serise.
    ‘Ordinary nits don’t,’ agreed Anil. ‘But don’t forget Rodney was wearing Miss Broom’s hat yesterday. Perhaps he caught them from that. Special
wer-wer-wer—oh bother it! Special
magic
nits.’
    Class Six exchanged glances.
    ‘Jack did have his head really close to Rodney’s yesterday when he was answering for him,’ said Winsome. ‘He could have caught them then.’
    Jack scratched his head again, and as he did everyone else’s scalps began itching and itching in sympathy. Class Six folded their arms and gritted their teeth and vowed that they
weren’t going to start scratching. This tickling was just in their minds. It was. It
was
.
    ‘I don’t want to get magic nits!’ whimpered Emily. ‘I don’t!’
    Everyone’s shoulders had begun to twitch, now, as the itchiness of their scalps got worse. It felt as if little spiders were crawling through the roots of their hair. As if tiny needles
were pricking into the skin. And they just had to…
    ‘This is terrible,’ said Anil, suddenly. ‘If these are nits then they’re incredibly powerful nits. These are NITS OF DOOM!’
    And at last Class Six put their hands up to their heads and began to scratch and scratch and scratch.

As soon as Miss Broom arrived in the classroom she gave out lumps of modelling clay and asked Class Six to write stories. Everyone was so keen not to attract Miss Broom’s
attention that they sat as still as statues, apart from the occasional twitch and wriggle to try to soothe away the itching, and wrote like mad.
    Writing a story was easier than usual because the lumps of clay squeezed themselves into the shape of everything they wrote about and acted out the story for them.
    Ten of Class Six’s stories were about football, seven were about ponies, six were about winning talent shows, six were about bullying and one was about cake.
    None of them was anything at all to do with witches or magic of any kind.
    ‘You’re
such
good children,’ said Miss Broom, when the bell had gone and Class Six still carried on writing even though their clay figures had rolled themselves back
into balls and thrown themselves neatly into the clay bin. ‘But it’s time for lunch now.’
    By that time Jack’s nose was beginning to wobble slightly whenever he turned his head and Rodney’s was so long it kept getting in the way when he was trying to eat his pizza.

    Class Six edged their chairs as far away from Rodney and Jack as they could, but everyone’s scalps were still itching and it was ever so hard not to scratch all the time.
    ‘What’s it like, having a trunk?’ asked Anil.
    ‘All right,’ said Rodney. ‘Except I can tell that this pizza smells of mice and drains.’
    ‘And burning,’ said Jack—and then clapped his hand to his mouth because his voice had come out in a great huge burp that echoed round like a
moose in a drainpipe.
    ‘Who’s making that row?’ snapped Mrs Barnett from the hatch, crossly brandishing her ladle. ‘Stop it at once or I’ll send for Mrs Elwig!’
    Serise went to scratch her head, and then didn’t. The whole class kept bringing their hands up towards their heads and then pretending they just wanted to wave at someone. All the little
kids in Class Three kept half-waving back and then looking behind them. They were getting really confused.
    Anil put down his knife and fork.
    ‘This is terrible,’ he said. ‘There’s no getting away from it. We all must have caught it.’
    Emily began to cry.
    ‘I don’t want a trunk!’ she wailed. ‘I don’t want a big burpy voice. I like my toes the colour they are!’
    Winsome gave her a hug.
    ‘It’ll be all right,’ she said bravely. ‘Rodney’s voice is back to normal, so that shows he’s getting better.’
    ‘But look