Song Lee in Room 2B (4 page)

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Authors: Suzy Kline

BOOK: Song Lee in Room 2B
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Everyone started clapping when Harry finished.
“That's quite an ending!” Miss Mackle said. “Squished like a bug!”
Harry flashed a toothy smile.
Then the teacher looked at me. “Doug? Will you read what you wrote?”
“I couldn't think of anything. I don't have Harry's imagination.”
Miss Mackle nodded. “That's called writer's block. It happens to everyone. I still want to hear from you, though, Doug. Let me know when you get an inspiration.”
“What's an inspiration?” I asked.
“It gives you an idea,” the teacher said. “It hits you like a flash.”
“I'll wait for that flash, then,” I said.
Miss Mackle smiled. “Song Lee?”
Song Lee didn't mind reading aloud in the sharing circle. It wasn't like she was standing in front of an audience. She just held her notebook up high so no one could see her face.
As soon as she read the title, everyone laughed.
“Harry's Nose.
“I notice Harry has cold today. Four times, he blow his nose into white Kleenex. Now, skin around Harry's nose is red and crusty. His nostril must be very sore. I feel sad for Harry's nose.”
When she finished, Harry was smiling. Everyone could tell he liked the story.
“That's gross,” said Sidney.
“I like it!” Miss Mackle replied. “Writers notice lots of things. Things that are beautiful and things that are not so beautiful, like ... Harry's nose.”
Just then it hit me. I grabbed my pencil and started writing.
Ten minutes later when everyone had shared, I raised my hand. “I'm ready.”
“Doug! You don't have writer's block anymore?”
“No. Song Lee's story gave me an idea.”
“Sounds like an
inspiration!”
Miss Mackle said.
“Yeah! Now I want to write about something I noticed.”
Dexter rubbed his hands together. “Is it about Harry's boogers?”
As soon as we burst out laughing, Miss Mackle changed the subject. “Does your story have a title, Doug?”
I nodded.
“Murder in Room 2B.”
Suddenly, everyone turned quiet.
I waited a moment before I began to read.
“Green fuzz grows in our terrarium. I saw it in one corner. It has little gray hairs. It is like a monster creeping toward our three sick plants. If we don't stop it, there will be murder in Room 2B!”
When I looked up from my notebook, the teacher's face was red. She was also sinking down in her chair. “Class, I think I know where that grayish-green fuzz is coming from.”
We all stared at Miss Mackle.
“Where?”
“Well, sometimes when I'm in a hurry, I dump my leftover coffee into the terrarium.”
“Ee yew!”
we said.
“I guess the milk and sugar must be getting moldy. I didn't realize what it was doing to the soil until Doug read from his notebook today.”
Harry put his hands up. “Oh, no! Our teacher is a
Coffee Monster.”
When Miss Mackle started laughing, we did, too.
“Boys and girls,” she said. “I promise never to dump coffee in there again. Doug's story is a good example of how writing
can
make a difference. Now our plants are saved from the Coffee Monster!”
While everyone cheered and clapped, I just leaned back in my chair and smiled. I really felt like a writer today.
“Thanks, Song Lee,” I said. “I got my inspiration from you and your nosebook. I mean notebook.”
“Nosebook!” Song Lee giggled. “That is funny. Now you give me inspiration, Doug.”
Then she took out a Magic Marker and drew a picture of a nose with two nostrils on the cover of her notebook.
Song Lee and Chungju
M
onday morning, Harry and I looked at the lunch menu. “PIZZA!” we said, slapping each other five. Then we walked over to the monitor chart.
“Hot dog!” Harry said. “I'm Sweeper, and you're Plant Monitor, Doug.”
“All right! I get to water our three sick plants.”
Song Lee looked confused when she read the chart. Ant Monitor and Fish Monitor were crossed off, and in their place was Science Monitor. That's what she was. “Miss Mackle,” she said, “what does Science Monitor do?”
“Well, you know the ants died off because we didn't have a queen ant, and over the holidays, I gave away our three goldfish to children in our class who have tanks.”
“Yes?”
“So, now ... the Science Monitor just keeps the science corner neat.”
Song Lee put her head down. “We have no living thing in our room anymore?”
“We have 22 children and three sick plants that are getting better!” Miss Mackle exclaimed.
“No living thing,” Song Lee said sadly.
The next day, when Song Lee came to class, she was carrying a small box and a bag of stuff.
Miss Mackle greeted her at the door. “What do we have here?”
“A salamander. I name him Chungju after city in Korea.”
Miss Mackle's eyes widened as she watched Song Lee take the salamander out of the box and put him into a deep blue bowl that was filled with mud and one big rock.
“Hello, Chungju!”
Lots of people crowded around the science table. “Neat-o!” I said, as Harry and I shared a chair in front of the bowl.
Ida and Mary rushed into the classroom.
“Ohhhhhh!”
Mary exclaimed. “A salamander!”
“Ee-yew,”
Sidney groaned. “I bet that salamander slithers out of the bowl, slides down the table leg, slithers over to someone's desk, slithers up their pants, slithers across their stomach, slithers up their neck, and ...”
“SIDNEY!” Mary said. “Stop slithering! I don't need any nightmares.”
“Don't worry, Mary,” Song Lee said. “Chungju can't get out. I have him for one year. He is fine in bowl.”
“One year! Wow!” I said.
Harry scooted our chair closer to Song Lee's. “Remember when you brought in Bong, your water frog? How is he doing?”
“He is fine.” After Song Lee talked about Bong for a while, Harry stood up and shouted, “HE'S GONE! CHUNGJU ESCAPED!”
Sidney jumped so high he knocked the bird mobile down. “Help!” he called as he tried to untangle the toucan and the lovebird from his hair.
“April fool,” Harry said. “Chungju is behind the rock.”
Sidney gritted his teeth. “It's not April Fools' Day, ol' Harry the canary. It's still March!”
“Just practicing,” Harry replied, as he flashed a big smile.
“What's going on?” Miss Mackle asked.
Before the teacher could get to our table, the fire alarm went off. It was loud and shrill.
ENNH! ENNH! ENNH!
Miss Mackle turned off the lights.
“Line up, single file. No running.
Sidney, we'll take care of that mess in your hair later.
Class, follow me!”
Quickly, we did exactly what the teacher said. We made one straight line, followed her down the hall, and out the front doors of South School. As soon as we got outside, I could see my breath in the cold air.
Harry crunched the snow as he stomped ahead of me. “Neat-o! A fire drill!”
“This is no drill,” Mary scolded. “I bet the school's on fire!”
“No way,” I said. “It's just practice.”
“No, it isn‘t!” Mary replied. “We never practice when it's cold. This time it's for real!”
When we stopped at the telephone pole around the corner, Miss Mackle started counting heads.
“LOOK!” Sidney shouted, as he flipped the lovebird over his head. “THREE FIRE ENGINES!”
Everyone watched the shiny red engines roar up the road and screech to a halt in front of the school. Mary plugged her ears. Ida rubbed her arms. “I've got goose bumps,” she said.

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