Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder by Jo Nesbø, mike lowery Read Free Book Online

that’s howmany seconds have passed during this class. Well, now four more have gone by, so now two thousand six hundred and eighty-five seconds have passed. It’s simple math.”
    â€œI understand that,” Mrs. Strobe started. “But Nilly …”
    â€œExcuse me. That isn’t the right answer anymore,” Nilly said. “The right answer is now two thousand six hundred and eighty-nine.”
    â€œTo me, it sounds like you’re trying to talk your way out of what I asked you about,” Mrs. Strobe said. “Because you heard what I asked you, right, Nilly?”
    â€œOf course,” Nilly said. “Two thousand six hundred ninety-two.”
    â€œGet to the point,” Mrs. Strobe said, sounding a little irritated now.
    â€œThe point,” Nilly said, “is that since there are sixty seconds in a minute and forty-five minutes ineach class, I won’t have time to answer your question, since sixty seconds times forty-five is two thousand seven hundred seconds, and that means the bell is going to ring right …”
    No one heard the rest of what Nilly said, because the bell started ringing right then, loud and shrill. Mrs. Strobe tried looking sternly at Nilly, but when she yelled, “All right, everyone out!” he could see that she couldn’t quite help but smile anyway.
    AFTER LISA AND Nilly had spent sixteen thousand and two hundred seconds together in the classroom and two thousand seven hundred seconds on the playground, they ran away from the school as quickly as they had run toward it. They parted on Cannon Avenue, each opening their own gate, each running up their own front steps, and each flinging their backpack in their own hallway. Then they met again in front of Doctor Proctor’s gate.
    â€œI’m almost dreading it a little,” Lisa said.
    â€œI’m almost looking forward to it a little,” Nilly said.
    Then they stormed into the yard and through the tall grass.
    â€œThere you guys are!” called the doctor joyfully in his remarkable accent. He was sitting at the picnic table under the pear tree. In front of him lay three tablespoons and a teaspoon, an ice hockey helmet, two knee pads, a mason jar full of powder, a pair of motorcycle pants, and a two-foot-long, rectangular, homemade Jell-O bathed in caramel sauce. “Are you guys ready for the Last Big Powder Test?” he asked.
    â€œYes!” Lisa and Nilly shouted in unison.
    â€œBut first, Jell-O,” said the doctor.
    They sat down around the table and each grabbed a spoon.
    â€œOn your mark, get set …,” Doctor Proctor said.

    â€œGo!” Nilly yelled, and they flung themselves at the Jell-O. If Nilly had been counting, he wouldn’t have gotten any further than thirty seconds before the two-foot-long Jell-O had vanished completely.
    â€œGood,” Nilly said, patting his stomach.
    â€œGood,” Lisa said, patting her stomach.
    â€œI’ve made a few tiny adjustments to the powder mixture,” Doctor Proctor said.
    â€œI’m ready,” Nilly said, taking the lid off the mason jar.
    â€œHold on!” the professor said. “I don’t want you to ruin your pants again, so I made these.”
    He held up the motorcycle pants. They were very normal, aside from the fact that the seat of the pants had a Velcro flap.
    â€œSo the air can pass through unobstructed,” the doctor explained. “I remodeled my old motorcycle gear.”
    â€œNiiice,” Nilly said once he’d put on the pants,which were way too big for him. Lisa just shook her head.
    â€œThese, too,” the doctor said, and passed Nilly the hockey helmet and the knee pads. “In case you get knocked over again.”
    Nilly put everything on, then crawled up onto the table and over to the mason jar.
    â€œOnly one teaspoon!” Doctor Proctor yelled.
    â€œYeah, yeah!” Nilly said, filling the spoon he was holding in his hand