CHAPTER 7

They got out of the car after the short drive to the school.

"Go home now," Baartock's mother announced, and started walking down the sidewalk, leaving Baartock and Mrs. Jackson standing by the car.

"But," Mrs. Jackson called hurriedly, "I'll drive you home."

"No," was Whinnurf Slinurp's answer. She didn't look back or even slow down, but walked off quickly toward home. She had had enough of humans and their strange ways for one day.

"How strange," Mrs. Jackson thought also. "I certainly hope it wasn't something that I said. I wonder if that's just the way trolls are?" They watched as Baartock's mother walking quickly down the sidewalk and around the corner of the school building and out of sight.

She said, "All right, Baartock, let's get into school. Before you go to your class, we have to stop by the office." The went in the front door and down the hall to the office. Baartock knew this room now. It was near the front door and it was the only door with a big glass window in it. All the doors either had no window at all or only a little one, up high, that he wasn't tall enough to look through.

"Mrs. Jackson, I'm glad you're here," Ms. Laurence said all in a rush. "There were some wasps in Mrs. Breckenridge's class and they couldn't get them out. Some of the children got frightened. She took her class out to the playground and Mr. Blevis is trying to get rid of the wasps."

"Good. For a moment I thought that I was supposed to catch the wasps," Mrs. Jackson said laughing. "I'm sure that Mr. Blevis can take care of it. Would you get a new student kit for Baartock? There should still be some left in the supply room."

Ms. Laurence came out from behind her desk and went out the door. Mrs. Jackson said, "She's getting some things you'll need for school; tablets of paper, scissors, crayons, and pencils. When they're used up you can buy more from the school store. Mrs. Stogbuchner can tell you about it." Baartock was about to ask what Mrs. Jackson was talking about, because there were so many words she used that he didn't know. She had

talked about stores when he was in her car. Mississtog-Buchnersklass had let him have some crayons to use, those little sticks that made wonderful, colorful marks on the paper. He wanted to know if some of the other things were just as great as crayons, when Ms. Laurence came back in the office and gave him a box and some pads of paper.

"These are for you, Baartock," she said.

"You give me?" he asked. He hadn't expected someone to give him anything. He was embarrassed, because he didn't have anything to give her.

"Yes, I'm giving them to you. These are yours."

"We usually say "thank you" when someone gives us something," said Mrs. Jackson.

"Thank you," said Baartock. He thought about it and then decided that it was just the human way of giving things.

"You're welcome, Baartock," said Ms. Laurence, as she went back to her desk.

He opened the box and looked inside. There were a lot of things in it. Most of them he didn't understand, but there was a box full of crayons, just like the ones he had used the day before.

"There's a place on the box for your name," said Mrs. Jackson. "Why don't I write Baartock on this one, so that we'll know that it's yours. All the new students have a pencil box just like this. We have to be able to tell them apart." She got a pen from the counter and wrote 'BAARTOCK' in big letters on the top of the box.

Baartock looked at the marks she had made on it. "This say my box?" he asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Jackson. "This word is 'Baartock'."

He looked at the marks some more, then got the pen from the counter. On one end of the box, he made another mark. It was a mark his mother had shown him how to make, his special mark. He had practiced making it and put it on all his things. He even had cut it into one of the stones of his bridge, working carefully, the way his father had shown him.

"This say my box, too," he said, holding it up for Mrs. Jackson to see. "Now I know my box."

What Mrs. Jackson saw was not a scribbled mark that she might have expected, but carefully printed letters. They were letters of an alphabet she didn't recognize, but still clearly letters. It was just one more new thing that she now knew about trolls. She already knew more about trolls than anyone else in town. There were only three people who even knew that there were trolls.

"Good. We all know that it's Baartock's pencil box. Now, it's almost lunch time," she said, looking up at the clock high up on the wall. "We'd better be getting you to your class, before they go to lunch without you. Aren't you getting hungry?"

Baartock hadn't thought about food, until Mrs. Jackson mentioned it. Suddenly he was hungry, very hungry. It had been a long time since his breakfast bowl of porridge and some left-over acorns and toadstools from dinner.

"Yes. Hungry," he said.