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completely forgotten.

F IRST THING EVERY F RIDAY MORNING , before Ms. Rho had time to go over the awful book report chart, Batty and the rest of the Wildwood Elementary fifth graders gathered to sing. This would have been an enjoyable break from normal classroom labors if the music teacher hadn’t been dull and pompous. Batty had long suspected that Mr. Rudkin knew nothing about music. Keiko went further, saying he would be better off teaching raccoons than children.
    So there was a lot of interest this morning in the rumors flying around that Mr. Rudkin was gone. As Batty and Keiko joined the line of students snaking into the auditorium, they heard several possible explanations. That Mr. Rudkin had bored himself to death was the cruelest, that he had run away to marry a rock star the least likely.
    “And Henry said that Mr. Rudkin’s gone into hiding because the FBI is after him,” Keiko told Batty as they made their way up to the stage.
    “Henry’s nuts.” He was one of their classmates, and prone to exaggeration. Still, Batty couldn’t help hoping it was true about the FBI. A public elementary school is not a good place to hide from the government. Maybe Mr. Rudkin would disappear forever.
    The fifth graders crowded onto the risers higgledy-piggledy. Mr. Rudkin had never bothered to sort them into any order, so each week was a free-for-all of trying to be close to your friends and far from your enemies. Keiko and Batty always stood next to each other and, if they could manage it, behind someone tall enough to block them from Mr. Rudkin. Today they chose a spot on the fourth riser behind the basketball-playing Wise twins, then wished they hadn’t when the school principal arrived—definitely without Mr. Rudkin, but instead with a short woman with lots of wavy gray hair and impressively large eyeglasses. To get better views, Batty leaned one way and Keiko the other.
    “Who do you think she is?” asked Keiko.
    The school principal raised his hand in the air, the Wildwood signal for silence, and all the students had to raise their hands in the air, too. The gray-haired woman did not, which gave Batty a twinge of optimism. Mr. Rudkin had usually spent half of class with his hand in the air, making it difficult to get much singing done.
    “Good morning and hands down, fifth grade,”said the principal. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that a medical condition will keep Mr. Rudkin from us for the rest of the year.”
    An arm shot up again from the midst of a cluster of boys that included Henry the FBI insider. This was not a request for silence but a request to interrupt.
    “It’s Vasudev,” Keiko whispered to Batty, who already knew that, since he was in their class. Keiko was keeping close tabs on several boys—Henry, Vasudev, a sixth grader named Eric, and a movie star named Ryan. She hadn’t yet committed to the idea of having a crush, but thought she should know who was worthy, just in case she suddenly felt the need to give away her heart.
    The principal pointed to Vasudev. “Yes?”
    “What kind of a medical condition?”
    “Nothing life-threatening—and more important, none of your business.” The principal rubbed his forehead, which he often did in the presence of the fifth grade. “We have, however, found a substitute for you. Let’s give a round of applause to Mrs. Grunfeld for stepping in on such short notice.”
    As it sank in that Mr. Rudkin was really and truly gone, the applause grew increasingly enthusiastic, until the principal again raised his hand for silence. He issued a few dire warnings about what would happen if they didn’t behave, then made his escape, and the students were left alone with Mrs. Grunfeld.
    “According to Mr. Rudkin’s lesson plans, you’vebeen singing ‘Shenandoah.’ Now you will sing it for me,” she said, taking a pitch pipe from her pocket and blowing into it. “That is your starting note. One and two and three and four—”
    The fifth grade had