The classroom had changed overnight. Bright painted signs hung over four cardboard doorframes, each one marking a new world inside.
Mackary pushed past every doorway, peering inside each one. Doctor? Chef? Firefighter? He was hunting for treasure.
He wrapped the paper stethoscope around his neck and pressed the circle to Mr. Patel's chest. The janitor closed his eyes. 'Ba-dum. Ba-dum.'
'You're perfectly healthy,' Mackary declared. Mr. Patel bowed so dramatically his keys jingled like wind chimes.
Next came the chef station. Mackary flipped the plastic pan high — and a soggy cardboard pancake slid straight onto the floor with a wet slap.
He stared at the flat pancake. Then he laughed — a loud snort-laugh that made his nose wrinkle. Quick as a blink, he swept it under the counter.
The firefighter station called next. Mackary pressed his nose against the red slide pole and gave it a tug. It didn't budge.
He tugged harder. The whole room shuddered — then collapsed with a crumple. Foam helmets bounced across the floor like round pumpkins.
Mackary climbed into the astronaut rocket chair. He pushed off and spun — faster, faster — until the ceiling stars melted into a bright ribbon.
Pop! A rush of tissue-paper clouds. Mackary floated backward, weightless, his paper helmet sliding over his eyes. He let out a delighted whoop.
He landed softly among the scattered foam helmets, grinning from ear to ear. One by one, he dragged each rocket chair into a neat row.
Tomorrow, he would visit them all again. And maybe — just maybe — he would try something brand new.