Volume 1, No. 1

The Plague / Hooper ... 2

We knew the plague had struck when Tom Foster chased Maureen Beeks down the hall at recess and grabbed the back of her skirt. Maureen whirled around, clutched her arms across her chest and shrieked "Oh God, I've got BOY FLEAS!"
Every Grade 4 girl heard it. We all stopped and looked at each other with that kind of knowingness that only nine-year-old girls possess. We all knew what we had to do. We all knew it was going to take an all-out assault to stem the outbreak. For what every girl that age knew, despite what every great historian claimed, the greatest scourge, the most fearsome epidemic to ever strike mankind was not the Black Death - it was a plague of boy fleas!
I had to do my part. I was especially vulnerable. I sat behind Ricky Brighton, one of the cutest boys in Grade 4 - and I knew he liked me. I knew because he was always turning around (when Miss Gordon wasn't looking) and telling dumb jokes, or making up stupid stories, or worst of all - touching things on my desk. We girls may not