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replied, and he was right, for when he got up from the little chair he was not only tall, but also husky. He had long hair as black as midnight, and large white teeth. Very dark brown eyes squeezed together like slits, and he had a squashed-in nose from fighting.
    “My name is Tuffy Buck,” he said, “and I am boss of this cloakroom! I am also boss of the recess yard, and boss of all the slides and swings in the recess yard! I am boss of all the blocks that surround this school, and boss of the cafeteria!”
    Shoebag did not know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
    “Say hello to Stuella Bagg!” Tuffy Buck shouted, and one by one, boys and girls began calling out, “Hello, Stuella … Hello, Stuella … Hello, Stuella.”
    “Say hello back,” Tuffy Buck commanded Shoebag.
    “Hello,” said Shoebag, and he felt something very strange happening in his eyes. They began to hurt and they began to fill with liquid. That morning when he had awakened with moisture on his forehead and under his arms, Mrs. Biddle had said he was sweating from too many blankets.
    “Crybaby!” said Tuffy Buck. “Now I know you’re a little girl, because you’re crying.”
    “I’m not crying,” Shoebag said. “My eyes are sweating a little, that’s all.”
    “Stuella with the sweating eyes!” said Tuffy Buck, and everyone laughed and laughed.
    After that, no one wanted to make friends with Shoebag. No one wanted to get on the bad side of Tuffy Buck.
    When the bell for lunch rang, Shoebag stayed at his desk while everyone filed out of the room.
    “Mama?” he whispered into his pencil box. “What am I going to do? Nobody in this school likes me.”
    When there was no answer, Shoebag opened his pencil box a crack, and saw that Drainboard was still sound asleep between the red and yellow pencils.
    He did not have the heart to wake her up, and in a way he was glad she had slept through everything, for she would only have felt like a helpless cockroach who had always known people were cruel.
    Shoebag put the pencil box inside the grocery bag with his lunch, and trudged down to the cafeteria. He had no appetite, and he had no wish to go into that big bright room with all the tables and chairs, and everyone finding friends to eat with. But what could he do?
    He stood in line to buy chocolate milk. He noticed that certain boys and girls pushed ahead of him, laughing, telling others, “Stuella doesn’t care if we go before her! Come on!”
    By the time he finally got his chocolate milk, nearly everyone had plates of food in front of them, or their sandwiches out of their baggies and bitten into. No one called him over to a table the way others had been invited to join groups. He finally found a table that was half full, at which sat others like him: the ones who weren’t liked. There was the boy they called Fatso, with his face in a sardine sandwich. There was the girl known as The Ghost, who was skeletal thin with skin the color of flour. Bark was there, the small boy who was terrified of all dogs. And so was Handles there, the boy with ears which stuck way out. The girl called Two Times sat there, so nervous she said everything twice.
    Shoebag sat down with them. No one said anything to him, and he did not try to start a conversation.
    When was it? Toward the end of lunch when the scream came out of The Ghost?
    What a scream it was! “YEEEEEEEEEEEE-OWWWWWWW! A ROACH!”
    Shoebag heard the scream before he caught a glimpse of his mother crawling near the bottom of the bag containing his salami sandwich.
    Salami had always been irresistible to Drainboard. She never got a taste of it, either, when Under The Toaster was around, for it was his most favorite choice morsel.
    The scent of it must have awakened her, and while Shoebag had not yet taken his sandwich out of the bag, she must have been sneaking in there for a taste.
    “YEEEEEEEEEEOWWWWWWW! A COCKROACH!” The Ghost cried again.
    Everyone at Shoebag’s table jumped out of