Song Lee in Room 2B (3 page)

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Authors: Suzy Kline

BOOK: Song Lee in Room 2B
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Mary put her hands on her hips. “You shouldn't keep secrets. We're friends!”
“We crossed our hearts,” Ida replied. Then Ida and I went over and admired the green smorgasbord. Someone had just brought in green sugar cookies, a jar of pickles, and green-onion potato chips.
When I looked back at Mary, she was steaming mad! She just glared at Song Lee in the seat next to her. “You better tell me that secret or else.”
Song Lee took a piece of paper out of her desk and drew a shamrock. Then she wrote a message inside with green
crayon.
When she handed the shamrock to Mary, Mary crumpled it up and threw it on the floor. “If you don't tell me your secret, I'll ...”
Just then the bell rang, and Miss Mackle greeted the class. “Happy St. Patrick's Day, boys and girls.”
Everyone said “Happy St. Patrick's Day” back, except Mary.
“We'll have our green smorgasbord after lunch,” the teacher said. “But right now, we're going to read from the
greenest
story in literature!”
“What's the title?” Ida asked.
“You all know it.”
“We do?”
“Does it have green slime in it?” Harry asked.
Miss Mackle rolled her eyeballs, sat down in her reading chair, and opened a book.
“THE WIZARD OF OZ!”
we all shouted.
“Right! And now it's time to follow the yellow brick road to the Emerald City where
everything
is green.”
We all got comfortable while Miss Mackle began reading about Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion.
Mary even forgot how angry she was.
For one hour.
When the teacher closed her book, we just sat there. I don't think any of us wanted to leave the Emerald City.
Miss Mackle walked over to the tall cabinet, took out some green clay, and broke off a piece for each person. “Now, how about making some miniature characters?”
“Yeah!” we replied.
When Sidney got his lump of clay, he used the whole thing to make a dog. “Ta-dah! It's Toto!” Then he barked for a while.
Song Lee was shaping a little ax for her tiny Tin Man.
“That's great,” I said.
“It's mean,” Mary said. “You're keeping a secret. I bet it's about me.”
Song Lee shook her head. “It is not secret about you. It is ... secret about ... Harry.”
Mary looked over at Harry. He was putting a wart on the Wicked Witch of the West.
“What about him?” Mary asked.
“It is surprise. I cannot tell,” Song Lee said.
“If you don't tell me, I'll
...” Mary squeezed her clay so hard, it oozed through her fingers like long green snakes.
Then it happened.
Mary did something really awful.
She raised her hand and mashed a clump of clay on Song Lee's head.
A second later Miss Mackle looked up. “Song Lee! Who put that clay in your hair?”
Mary turned away.
“I did,” Song Lee said. “It is St. Patrick's Day hat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
We all knew Song Lee just didn't want to tattle.
“Hmmm,”
the teacher said. “You know we don't put clay in our hair.”
“Yes, Miss Mackle.” And she pulled it off her head.
I looked over at Mary. She was wiping her eyes with her sweater sleeve. “I'm sorry, Song Lee,” she whispered. “You are the nicest person I know.”
That afternoon, when it was time for our green smorgasbord, we all lined up. Harry was first. Mr. Cardini, the principal, was second. And I was third. Song Lee was holding hands with Mary and Ida behind me.
Everyone watched Harry uncover his plastic container. “Ta-dah! ANTS!”
“ANTS?” everyone gasped.
Then Harry showed us what was inside. Twenty-four small pieces of celery filled with peanut butter and dotted with raisins.
“Ants on a log,” Harry replied, biting into one.
“Deeeee-
licious
.”
When he made the peanut butter ooze between his teeth, all of us groaned.
Except Song Lee.
She couldn't stop giggling.
Song Lee's Nosebook
T
he next morning, I looked up at the classroom clock. We had 15 minutes to write in our notebooks. What could I write about? Miss Mackle said write about anything.
My mind was a blank.
I looked out the window and stared at the snow on the tree branches.
Then I looked at our terrarium.
Three sick plants in an old fish tank. When I got up and looked inside, I noticed some grayish-green mold growing in one corner.
“Sit down, Doug,” Miss Mackle said.
When I returned to my seat, I looked over at Harry. He was writing. He was also blowing his nose with a Kleenex.
“What should I write about?” I whispered.
“SHHHHH!”
Harry said.
It was no use talking to him now. He was in his own little world.
Miss Mackle was busy writing in her notebook in front of the room. I wondered what she was writing. I liked what she wrote yesterday. It was about a summer picnic when three yellow jackets attacked her cupcake.
“Bzzzz!”
I pretended to be a wasp flying in the room.
“Bzzzz! Bzzzz!”
“Shhhh!”
Ida said.
“SHHHH!”
Harry said.
I stopped buzzing.
What was I going to write about?
Five minutes later, when Miss Mackle called everyone up to the sharing circle, I still had a blank page.
Harry was still writing.
“I've got three pages!” Ida said.
“I've got six!” Harry bragged.
I moved my chair next to Song Lee. She just had one page.
Ida read first. “Last Saturday, I went over to Song Lee's house. Mary came, too. We played lots of games and had lunch. Mrs. Park made us
kimchi.
That is Korean. It has red peppers and cabbage and other vegetables in it. After lunch we played some more. The day was very, very, very, very—”
By the time she turned the page, Miss Mackle stopped her. “Ida, you have written two more pages of very's?”
“Yes.” Then she continued reading. “... very, very, very, very—”
When everyone started laughing, the teacher asked, “It was very
what?”
Ida turned the page and read the last word. “Fun.”
Miss Mackle smiled. “I loved the part about the
kimchi,
but one
very
is enough.”
Ida made a face. She wanted to read her two pages of
very‘
s
.
Harry read next. “Yesterday, I went to Antarctica and fed two penguins ...”
We all leaned forward. It was another one of Harry's great adventures in the wild. By the time he got to the fifth page, an iceberg crashed on his head and he was squished like a bug.

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