Max Onstage

Chapter One
 
 
“Don’t forget to pack two desserts,” Jeffrey Becker said to his father. Mr. Becker was fixing Jeffrey’s school lunch. Jeffrey supervised from the breakfast table.
 
“Two desserts?” asked Mr. Becker. “Why do you need two desserts?”
 
For a moment, Jeffrey thought about telling the truth. “Well, Dad,” he might say, “it’s like this. One of my best friends is a ghost. His name is Max and he lives in my desk at school. Max goes crazy for desserts. So I want an extra one to share.”
 
But if he told the truth, Jeffrey knew what his father would say. “Jeffrey,” he’d say, “you’ve made up about a hundred thousand stories in your young life. But this one should win an award.”
 
So instead, Jeffrey made up a story. “Well, you see, Dad, there’s this new research that I read about in the newspaper. It said that ninety percent of all college graduates ate two desserts every day when they were in the third grade. So I figure if I ever want to graduate from college, I’d better eat right, starting now.”
 
“Jeffrey,” Mr. Becker said, “you’ve made up about a hundred thousand stories in your young life. But this one should win an award.”
 
“Not really, Dad,” answered Jeffrey. “I’m still saving the best story for last.”
 
Just then, there was a knock on the kitchen door. Melissa McKane, Jeffrey’s next-door neighbor, rushed in. Right behind her was Jeffrey’s best friend, Benjamin Hyde.
 
“Hi, Mr. Becker,” Melissa said. “Hurry up, Jeffrey. We’re three minutes behind schedule already. And I can’t be late for school because we’re choosing parts for the class play today.”
 
“I’ve got it calculated,” Ben said, looking at his new watch. Ben was going to be a scientist when he grew up. He liked things to be exact. “If we walk for three blocks, jog every other block, and then run like crazy for two blocks, we’ll get to school on time.”
 
“Okay. Let’s go,” Jeffrey said. “See ya, Dad.”
 
Jeffrey’s father smiled and dropped a second dessert into Jeffrey’s lunch. He handed the bag to Jeffrey.
 
“Thanks!” Jeffrey called as he ran out the door. On the way to school, Jeffrey looked at the extra dessert in his lunch bag and thought about Max. It was great knowing a ghost—but it was lonely, too. Jeffrey wished he could tell his friends about Max. Especially his friend, Kenny.
 
“Hey, snap out of it,” Ben said as they jogged onto the second block. “You have that faraway look on your face, Jeffrey. Like you’re on another planet.”
 
“It’s a stage he’s going through,” Melissa said. “Ever since the beginning of the year. I think he has a crush on Mrs. Merrin.”
 
Wrong, Jeffrey thought to himself. It’s ever since I met Max in my desk at school. But he didn’t say that to Melissa. “Melissa, why are you so worried about getting a part in the class play?” Jeffrey asked. “You’re always picked to be the star and you know it.”
 
“I know,” Melissa said. “That’s why I’m worried. Maybe Mrs. Merrin will think I’ve been the star too much, and she’ll pick someone else.”
 
“Is that so bad?” asked Ben.
 
“It would be terrible,” Melissa said, “because my dad has never come to a class play before. And this year he promised to come.”
 
Just then, a tiny alarm went off. Melissa looked at the beeping stopwatch that was hanging around her neck.
 
“Uh-oh. We’ve only got sixty seconds left!” she yelled. And with that, she broke into a sprint, heading at top speed for school.
 
Jeffrey and Ben tried to keep up with her, but it was no use. Melissa’s long red ponytail bobbed up and down and then disappeared around the corner at the end of the block. She was the fastest sprinter in the third grade.
 
When Jeffrey and Ben got to school, their other good friend, Kenny Thompsen, was still in the hallway. He was putting his jacket in his locker.
 
“Hi, Jeffrey,” said Kenny.
 
“Hi,” Jeffrey answered, panting and breathing hard.
 
“How come you guys are out of breath?” Kenny asked.
 
“Melissa made us run to school,” Ben answered. “She wanted to get here early so she could talk to Mrs. Merrin. She really wants the leading part in the class play.”
 
“So remember,” Jeffrey teased Kenny, “no matter how much you want to, don’t volunteer for the lead, okay?”
 
“Me?” Kenny said, laughing. “Are you kidding? I’m too shy to volunteer to sit in the audience.”
 
“Yeah,” Ben chimed in. “We don’t have to worry about Kenny. I don’t think he’s going to push Melissa out of the way and yell, ‘Pick me! Pick me, Mrs. Merrin!’ ”
 
The three friends laughed.
 
“That’s for sure,” Jeffrey agreed. He started to go into the classroom, but Kenny grabbed his arm. “Jeffrey,” he said in a low voice. “I have something important to ask you. When do I get to meet the ghost?”
 
Oh, no. Here we go again, Jeffrey thought. Ever since Pet Day, when Kenny saw some pretty strange things that Max did, he had been asking Jeffrey about the ghost. And Jeffrey wanted to tell him the truth. “Yes! There really is a third-grade ghost,” Jeffrey would say. “He can make himself visible or invisible any time he wants, and he’s funny, he talks weird, and he’s a really good friend.” It would be cool to let Kenny meet Max.
 
The only trouble was, Max wouldn’t cooperate. He refused to show himself to anyone but Jeffrey.
 
“We’ll talk about it tonight when you come for a sleep-over,” Jeffrey told Kenny, trying to avoid giving a firm answer. Then he walked into the classroom and took his seat.
 
As soon as the second bell rang, Mrs. Merrin sat down on the edge of her desk and said, “Let’s talk about the class play. Now, as you can see, I’ve listed some ideas on the board. We could do a play about Christopher Columbus or one about the Vikings discovering America. Or we could do a play about Sir Isaac Newton, one of the most important early scientists. Or …”
 
Jeffrey tuned out and let his eyes quickly scan her list of ideas. Big trouble, he thought to himself. All of Mrs. Merrin’s play ideas were about men! So how could Melissa be the star?
 
Jeffrey looked over at Melissa and saw that her face was filled with disappointment. There’s got to be something I can do to help, Jeffrey thought. Maybe I can get Max involved! But first Jeffrey would have to get thrown out of class to do it.
 
Quickly Jeffrey reached into his desk and took out one of his desserts from his lunch bag. It was a piece of cake. He unwrapped it and started rubbing it furiously across his desk. In seconds his desk top was covered with sticky crumbs.
 
“Jeffrey!” Mrs. Merrin said, quickly pushing her round reading glasses back on her forehead. Her large blue eyes glared right at him. “Why are you doing that?”
 
“I have some ink on my desk and I was washing it off,” Jeffrey replied.
 
“With your dessert?” Mrs. Merrin said, trying not to get angry.
 
“Why not?” asked Jeffrey. “It’s a piece of sponge cake.”
 
Everyone in class laughed. But Mrs. Merrin looked really angry now. “Jeffrey, stand in the hall until you’re ready to be a part of this class,” she said.
 
Jeffrey put on a sad face as he walked out of the classroom. But inside he was happy because his plan had worked. Now he had a chance to talk to Max.
 
“Max, where are you?” Jeffrey whispered.
 
A few locker doors rattled and then one of them opened. Slowly the ghost began to float out of it. At first Jeffrey could see right through Max. Then Max became solid-looking.
 
Jeffrey and the ghost were about the same height: four and a half feet. And they were the same age: almost nine. But Max looked and talked like a kid from the 1950s. He always dressed in baggy jeans with rolled-up cuffs, black high-tops, and plaid flannel shirts. He kept his long dark hair greased back, except for one curl that swooped over his forehead.
 
“Daddy-o, can’t you get tossed out of class without, like, destroying my dessert?” asked the ghost.
 
“Max, I’ve got to talk to you,” Jeffrey said. “Melissa wants to be the star in the class play. Only there are no parts for girls. Can you do something to help?”
 
“Daddy-o, like, I was groovin’ on the idea that I would be the star of the play!” said the ghost. “But, okay, no sweat. She can star with me.”
 
“Great,” Jeffrey said. “Thanks.”
 
“Is that all?” Max asked as he floated up toward the ceiling and stuck a piece of gum on the light fixture.
 
“Yeah, that’s all. Why?”
 
“Well, for a minute, Daddy-o, I was shaking and quaking because I thought you were going to nag me about Kenny Thompsen.”
 
“Well, Max, since you brought it up …” Jeffrey said.
 
“Like, not againsville,” the ghost moaned, holding his ears.