"Surviving Mr. Guardino"

by Gloria Kositchek

Cover Art by Carmyn Van Lom
Copyright ©2004
ISBN: 0-87714-725-6 eBook edition
ISBN: 0-87714-918-6 PB edition

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my husband Don
The author gratefully acknowledges the support of Nancy Lamoureux, Ann Chisholm, Tom Kositchek and David Kositchek.

THE AUTHOR

After receiving a Bachelor's Degree in Sociology, Gloria Kositchek continued on with graduate classes, many of them in writing but all of them dealing with human behavior. In 1991 she began classes at UCLA, this time, learning to write for children. While talking to kids during her book presentations at elementary and middle schools she finds them eager to talk about their fears. One common fear was that of being alone which inspired her first children's book, Five Golden Feathers published in 2001. Another fear shared by children was screaming, yelling teachers which is the focus of her second book, Surviving Mr. Guardino.

THE BOOK

Ever get scared of a teacher? In Surviving Mr. Guardino, Josh Taylor's 7th grade science teacher's grating threats shock Josh right out of his classroom and on a weird journey back in time to1937 where he helplessly fights the treacherous dust storms in Oklahoma . That red dirt buries him to his waist, fills his eyes so he can't see and stuffs sand into his mouth and down his throat until he chokes. Half dead he knows his days are numbered. He'll never see his family again. Never go to a school again. But isn't that what he wanted? The only answer to that question is the fierce sound of the never ending wind that becomes Mr. Guardino's shrill laughter turning into words. "How are you going to get out of this one?"

This author intended that Josh's fears and dreams become so vivid you'll believe they're happening to you.

This story is written so you'll not be able to put this book down until the last page is read.

Chapter 1

I didn't like Mr. Guardino. He scared me. He was a big grouchy man who always got mad at kids in his class because they didn't do their homework, or weren't listening, or like me, were just staring out the window.

On this particular day I was staring at the sand as it hit the window next to my desk. It made funny noises like a thousand little needles pecking at the glass and made the air look muddy brown. The wind picked up sand from the newly plowed field across the street and carried it over to the school and threw it at my window right into my face.

All of the sudden an eraser spun past my ear and hit my window. I looked around and saw Mr. Guardino frowning. His black eyes flooded with anger as he shouted, "Mr. Taylor has the lowest score in the class!"

Quickly, I clasped my hands to my ears and tightly closed my eyes, but I could still hear his voice blasting right through my fingers.

He pounded his feet straight down the aisle and shouted, "He hasn't missed a day in class, yet he has a mere 20% from doing a piddling of class work and has turned in no outside assignments." He leaned down closer to my face. "And here he is in class staring out the window waiting for Tinker Bell to take him away to Never Never Land."

The class laughed. I shrank back into my seat, frozen with embarrassment. My face burned hot and my stomach felt as if it had just fallen to the floor. Mr. Guardino swung around to the rest of the class and shouted. "Hey! What are you all laughing at? Do you think you're much better?"

He grabbed the attendance book from the top of the desk and read, "Out of 28 students the highest score was 80% and that goes to Beau Jenkins." He banged the attendance book on to his desk and waved his hands in the air. "How do you think a teacher feels when a 'C' is the highest grade in his class?"

He began to pace up and down in front of the room. As he paced he waved the attendance book. "This is useless. What difference does it make if you're here sitting in your seats or not? You all show up for class, sit in your chair, and stare into space just waiting for the bell to ring. And then what? After that bell rings what is the next thing you will wait for? The school yard? The basketball court? Home? Is there anything in life that might help spark your interest? If so, raise your hand and share it with me. I'd like to know."

He stood quietly like a cat waiting to pounce. His bulgy eyes glared at his students waiting to see one hand raised, and it certainly wouldn't be mine.

Then he paced up and down in front of the class again. His face was beet red and his fish eyes bulged more than ever. "In three weeks you'll have your final exam. That exam will be a science project on anything pertaining to science that your inactive minds can think of. It will count 100%. Your interest is the only thing that will pass you on to eighth grade. All I ask for is just one tiny speck of curiosity. Originality will count. I'd advise you to investigate what has already been done and reach for something new."

He stopped at the board and wrote as he spoke: (1) Oral report. (2) Project.

"First you must give an oral report in class as to what you're curious about, supported by two references and an idea about what kind of project you'll be working on. These oral reports will begin this Monday. In order to give you all a chance to do this during these last three weeks of school, please someone start the ball rolling this Monday."

He pointed to the second part. "On the last day of class you will bring your completed exhibit to class to get your grade. If the exhibit is one that could extend over into eighth grade, you just might get to eighth grade to work on it. Each one who turns in this project at the end of this semester can raise their grade."

He looked over at me and said, "Josh stands the best chance. He's already failing so if he turns in a project he could at least get a D."

He turned back to the class. "But the rest of you who fail to turn in this final will lower your score. Those five brainy scholars sitting in the back row who have D's would fail altogether."

All the kids in the front of the class turned to look at Carlos, Angie, Jeff, Dwayne and Mike who sat there trying to look like they didn't care, but I knew they did. Just because they're big and trying to act tough doesn't make them not care. Failing seventh grade is humiliating to anyone.

Mr. Guardino tossed the attendance book back on the desk and grumbled. "Class dismissed."Flustered, I ran toward the door wanting to be the first one out. I grabbed the doorknob and it was stuck.

"Why don't they get this stinkin' doorknob fixed," I muttered.

Then I heard Mr. Guardino's insulting voice again. "You don't push the doorknob to open it. You have to pull the doorknob toward you, then twist."

When I looked up it wasn't Mr. Guardino's face I saw. It was the angry faces of the terrible five class toughies standing behind him glaring at me. I knew I had better get out of there and head for home as fast as I could.

So out I went, down the hall, and out the front door, forever.

Electronic Editions: ( * Disclaimer )
Download via Email $6.95
3.25" PC disk $6.95 + $2.55 shipping and handling each disk.

NEW - InstaBook paperback Edition