Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key: Chapters 1–5

At school they say I’m wired bad, or wired mad, or wired sad, or wired glad, depending on my mood and what teacher has ended up with me.

I’d stare right back and hesitate a second as if I was planning to answer the question and then I’d holler out really loud, “Can I get back to you on that?”

I wrapped the belt and laces around my middle and gave it a good tug and began to spin and spin and slam into the lockers and I got going so good the gum I had under my tongue flew out and my Superball slipped out of my hand and went bouncing down the hall and I kept going and going like when you roll down a steep hill and before long I was bumping on the glass walls around the principal’s office like a dizzy fish in a tank.

I really wasn’t sure what either of them was talking about because I didn’t recognize the lady.

By then everyone thought my grandma was the nutty old lady responsible for my bad behavior.

“Your dad’s such a nervous wreck he couldn’t stand still long enough to line up for free medicine down at the clinic.”

People who blame Grandma for my behavior are unfair to think that she was really the crazy one and I was innocent.

A jigsaw puzzle of ancient Egypt outlined the dining room table with the extra pieces piled up like pyramids spilling over onto the floor.

Even the words I spoke scalded my tongue.

And if by accident I’d sit still for a minute and just vibrate, she’d complain anyway.

I used to sit in my closet and pry open the paint can and stare into the shiny pink circle and was mesmerized for hours.

Grandma was always saying the wrong hurtful things for half the day, then she spent the other half of the day apologizing.

“Well, your grandmother can’t help but say things like, ‘You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re ruining everything. You never listen to me. I always said you were as dumb as dirt.’ ”

I swallowed my pill without water and could feel it roll, then stumble, then roll a little more, then stumble all the way down my throat and vanish into my belly.

When I arrived in her class she assigned me my seat and said that she was going to give me a fair chance to show just how good I could be.

My morning pill was supposed to last all day but it gave out on me.

“They apply to everyone in the class. I make no exceptions. So if you work by these rules and keep your mind on your studies, then you and I will not have any problems.”

I figured she was jealous because in less than a week I was already the teacher’s pet and got to do all the fun stuff.

She phoned the clinic and a doctor said it was because I was going through extra-early puberty, so my blood was half boy and half man and the medicine worked good on the boy and not good on the man.

And once I was in the house I was forbidden to step outside or open the door for strangers.

I looked at the picture and stared into the little eyes and tried to remember what I was thinking when I was so still, but I had no clue so my mind wandered and before long I didn’t remember about the string missing and I plucked the key out of my shirt pocket and popped it into my mouth.

Plus there were a lot of women hovering around who turned out to be moms, helping the teacher with their kids.

I looked away, far away to a shiny corner of the room because even my grandma taught me that it wasn't polite to stare at crippled kids.

But the chair didn’t budge an inch.

I was still wearing those bucktoothed rabbit slippers, and when I shuffled into class rubbing my eyes Seth Justman pointed at me and started to snicker and the whole class cracked up

“And I think you owe the class an apology for being disruptive earlier,” she said.

I was sitting on the toilet with my new bedroom slippers on when I heard splash-clunk as the key fell out of my butt and hit the porcelain bowl.

Everyone wanted the candle blown out so I stepped forward, took a big breath, and when I let it out I made Harold’s wish come true and thought, Maybe now there is a pot of gold under that tilted rainbow hat.

But someday all that asking me “why?” is going to wear my brain down so that it is as smooth as a boiled egg and I’ll just sit in Mrs. Howard’s big chair all my life like the coma kids and that word why will float through me from ear to ear like a warm breeze.

This may be how everyone else operates, but this is not how I usually operate.