Little a and the No Good, Very Bad, Terrible, Horrible, Mean, Rotten Teacher

By John Chipley

If you have ever had a really bad teacher, then you are going to love this book. In this book, Little A tells us about Ms. Wilma. Ms. Wilma starts off as the worst teacher Little A ever had. She was his sixth-grade teacher. However, as you read the book, you and Little A will discover why Ms. Wilma is so mean. You will also discover that she has a secret. Little A and his friends discover Ms. Wilmas secret and try to help her. This Little A book is full of surprises. Little As curiosity gets him in a lot of trouble. In this book, three boys disappear. In this book, the community of Binghampton comes to the rescue of Little A. And in this book, just when you think you know what is about to happen, it doesnt happen. This book doesnt end until the very last word.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524660635

John Chipley

Shirley Nelson Kersey, Ph.D. Readers of the books of fiction featuring Little A, a boy living in the projects of Memphis, are instantly aware that the writer is eminently qualified to focus on this young hero. Only a person who has taught in the inner city schools is able to create a fictional, yet realistic account of the life of a youngster struggling to find himself in this environment. John Chipley, whom the boys fondly have dubbed Mr. Chip, taught in Memphis inner-city schools for over fifteen years. In retirement he offers weekly volunteer sessions that focus on encouraging boys to read. This is a lofty goal, for the boys live in homes and neighborhood environments not structured to develop reading skills or dreams of career advancement. Mr. Chip’s goal surpasses development of reading ability to encourage the boys to enjoy this privilege. Chipley is formally prepared to teach, for he holds both Bachelor and Master of Education degrees. However, the most memorable aspect of his classroom presence is his heart. He cares deeply about each one of his students and is there for them both now and in the future. Through the persona of Little A, Chipley gives the boys a fictional character with whom they can identify. Little A’s life style echoes theirs. While reading this series of books, the boys witness someone they can relate to. Little A is a wonderful fictional character full of wisdom, character, adventure, and confidence.

Book preview

© 2017 John Chipley. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/20/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6064-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6062-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6063-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017900829

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

Chapter #1

Chapter #2

Chapter #3

Chapter #4

Chapter #5

Chapter #6

Chapter #7

Chapter #8

Chapter #9

Chapter #10

Chapter #11

Chapter #12

Chapter #13

Chapter #14

Chapter #15

Postscript

I write books for boys

who would rather be playing

basketball.

But, your teacher tells

you to read a book.

Well, here it is!!!!

Mr. Chip

The Treehouse Writers

image%201.jpg

Mrs. Marquita Carter, Teacher (6th grade)

o Elnaim

o Koajay

o Nyijor

o Naji

o Abak

o Mohamed

o Christina

o Sandra

o Enock

Binghampton Christian Academy, Memphis, TN. 38111

The Treehouse Writers Club is sponsored by the Starfish Ministry, Germantown United Methodist Chruch, Germantown, TN 38138

Introduction

littleA_cover.tif

Everyone calls me Little-A, but my real name is Abraham. I am twelve years old, African-American, skinny, have cornrows, and love basketball. I have a dog named George. I live with my mom in the inner—city of Memphis, an area known as Binghampton. Binghampton is a poor neighborhood and full of crime. But Binghampton is my home, where my friends live, and I like it. One of my teachers, Mr. Chip, has written several books about me and my adventures in Binghampton. They are real books, and I am the main character in every book. (Look me up at, www.johnchipley.com). But this book is different. Mr. Chip asked me to write this story myself. It’s about Ms. Wilma, my sixth-grade teacher. I’m now in the seventh grade.

I Hope you enjoy it.

Little A

Chapter #1

Ms. Wilma was the meanest teacher that ever walked the face of God’s green earth. Every student who entered Binghampton School knew about Ms. Wilma and dreaded the day when they would have to enter her sixth grade classroom. Ms. Wilma was the only sixth grade teacher. There was no way around her. Students feared Ms. Wilma even more than being sent to Mr. Carmichael, the principal, for paddling. And Mr. Carmichael knew how to swing a paddle. He had a paddle that was as big as a notebook, with holes drilled in it to allow for extra force when applied to the rear-end. I speak from experience; he knew how to use that paddle. He swung that paddle like he was playing professional baseball. He called his paddle Roscoe. I called it pure Hell! It was always the same thing every time. He would just stand there and say, Little A, bend over, grab your ankles, and hang on for three strikes. However, I would much rather go to the office and face Roscoe than face whatever Ms. Wilma would do to me. She was bad, bad to the bone. Plus, she hated boys, especially me.

Ms. Wilma was part African-American and part Cherokee Indian. She was tall, REAL tall. She was so tall she had to duck when she came through our classroom door. And she was skinny. She was as skinny as a #2 pencil. She always wore dark blue dresses with white dots. All of her dresses hung from her neck down to the top of her shoes. Her shoes looked and sounded more like army boots than lady’s shoes.

Ms. Wilma always had her gray hair pulled back into a tight bun, which made her large eyes pop out like frog eyes. Her lips were huge and always painted with a bright red war paint. And when she talked to me, her lips would stick together and spit would fly everywhere. Even worse, when she came over to my desk and leaned over to help me with math problems, thick drool would slowly roll out of her mouth and slide down onto my desk and paper. Then she would smile at me and ask, Do you understand, little boy? She always called me, little boy, not Little A. I never knew if she could not remember my name or was just messing with me. She was CRAZY!

Ms. Wilma didn’t believe in equal rights. She told us, "In my