Leon and the Spitting Image by Allen Kurzweil Read Free Book Online Page B

the towel, and he succeeded in backstitching the bottom and sides of his material. But then his fingers began to cramp.
    He paused for a moment to look over his handiwork. It resembled a tattered tube sock more than a stuffed snake. The word PROPERTY ran up the side, with the last two letters hidden inside a seam.
    Leon sighed. This snake is
not
proper, he said to himself. He wished Maria could help with the remaining stitches.
    From the front of the room, Antoinette called out, “I’m up to step seven, Miss Hagmeyer. The handout says I’m supposed to see you about special supplies?”
    “Excellent,” said Miss Hagmeyer. “Come with me.”
    Leon and the rest of the class watched as teacher and teacher’s pet went to the supply cabinet. Miss Hagmeyer unlocked the doors and pulled out the unmarked drawer that was cram-packed with panty hose.
    “Dig in!” she said.
    Antoinette balked.
    “Don’t be bashful. Go on, dig in!”
    “Into … into your panty hose?” Antoinette stammered.
    Leon looked down at his desktop. He knew that if he made eye contact with Lily-Matisse or P.W., he’d lose it.
    “Well of course,” said Miss Hagmeyer. “There isn’t a better stuffing in the world than cut-up old panty hose.”
    One by one, students approached the cabinet to extract panty hose. Leon soon realized that he was
way
behind. His classmates had practically finished their animiles by the time he’d reached the stuffing stage. He caused himself further delay by refusing to handle his teacher’s stockings directly. To minimize contact, he employed a pair of tongs as a panty hose injection device, a precaution that only made matters worse.
    “That snake is looking
bloated,”
Miss Hagmeyer told Leon on her next sweep of the room.
    “It is?”
    “Most definitely. It more closely resembles a football than a serpent. Thin it out at once.”
    “Yes, Miss Hagmeyer.”
    While Leon removed wadded-up panty hose from his snake, the rest of the class began submitting their snakes for final inspection. The procedure was the same for everyone. Miss Hagmeyer would survey the animile for loose threads, measure seams, and take extensive notes on her clipboard. If she liked what she saw, she would authorize a trip to the finished bin, a large bag-lined trash can located next to her desk. After that, students were free to practice their stitching or read the Fun Fact sections of their
Medieval Reader
s.
    Not long before the period was to end, Miss Hagmeyer reappeared at Leon’s desk. “Well, I suppose the snake’s shape is a tad better,” she acknowledged. Her tone was one of mild disappointment. “But do hurry up. Skip the eyes. Just finish up the tongue and mouth.”
    “Yes, Miss Hagmeyer,” Leon said.
    Although his hands were cramping and his head ached from lack of sleep, Leon pushed on. A few minutes later, Miss Hagmeyer called him up to her desk. “The bell’s about to ring, so show me what you have.”
    Leon plopped down his snake.
    Miss Hagmeyer inspected it closely. “The stitches on the belly are all crooked.”
    “I know,” Leon said miserably.
    Miss Hagmeyer removed a tape measure she had draped over her neck and pressed it against the snake’s mouth. “This overcast stitching is significantly below standard. It only registers
two
s.p.i.!”
    “Two s.p.i.?” said Leon. He had no idea what Miss Hagmeyer was talking about.
    “Stitches … per … inch, Mr. Zeisel—s.p.i. for short. An animile’s seams should always register at least
four
s.p.i. Do you think you can tighten up the stitching?”
    “I’ll try,” Leon said through clenched teeth.
    “I certainly hope so,” said Miss Hagmeyer. “And when you do, make sure the fabric doesn’t bunch up. I don’t want the mouth to pucker.”
    You mean like yours? Leon said to himself, looking at his teacher’s pursed lips. “If I can’t fix the problem, Miss Hagmeyer, I could call the snake Pinch.”
    “You will do no such thing, Mr. Zeisel. Animiles never