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Oddly probably thinks I live in a cage, he realized. Whenever he sees me, I’m sitting in this same desk. He probably thinks this desk is my cage!

So Myron got out of his chair and sat on the floor.

“Myron, what are you doing out of your seat?” asked Mrs. Jewls.

“I want to sit on the floor,” said Myron.

Several kids laughed.

“Get back in your seat,” ordered Mrs. Jewls.

Myron reluctantly returned to his desk.

I do live in a cage, he thought. I’m not allowed out. I have to stay in my cage until the bell rings. Then I have to go down the stairs. Then when it rings again, I have to go up the stairs. Then when it rings again, I have to go down the stairs. Then when it rings again, I have to go up the stairs. I’m never free.

The bell rang.

Myron went down the stairs.

It was so crowded with kids rushing to recess that he couldn’t stop if he wanted. It was as if someone had lifted his cage and was carrying him down the stairs.

The bell rang again.

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Myron went up the stairs.

At lunch the bell rang again.

Myron went down the stairs.

After lunch the bell rang again.

Myron stood at the bottom of the staircase and looked up. “No!” he declared. “I won’t go. I have to be free!”

As all the other kids rushed past him, he eased his way around to the back of the stairs. As everybody else went up, Myron went down …

to

the

basement.

He nervously walked down the old creaky staircase. He didn’t know what he’d find, or what would find him. He had heard that dead rats were living down there, or worse, maybe even Mrs. Gorf!

Mrs. Gorf was the meanest teacher Myron had ever had. She used to be the teacher on the thirtieth story, before Mrs. Jewls took over. But nobody believed that Mrs. Gorf was really gone. Everyone said she was still lurking somewhere inside Wayside School.

He stepped off the last step, at the very bottom of Wayside School. It was too dark to see. Somewhere he heard a drip that echoed all around the cold and damp room.

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With his arms outstretched, he stepped across the gritty floor. His hand struck against a large, fat pipe above his head. The pipe felt like it was covered with a thousand spiderwebs. Still, Myron kept his finger on the pipe as he walked, so he wouldn’t get lost. As long as he stayed with the pipe, he knew he’d be able to find his way back to the stairs.

Something crawled across his hand. He shook it off, then continued walking.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him. He stopped walking. The sound of the footsteps continued for a second, then stopped.

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