by Jonathan Eig
“Lola, honey, would you please give this note to your mother tonight?” she said, with a hand on Lola’s shoulder. “You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to tell your mother that I love your pigtails—everyone does—even though today’s flashing light was a bit of a distraction.”
“OK, sure, Mrs. Gunderson,” Lola said. “But, well, um….”
Lola wasn’t sure whether to say that her grandfather made the pigtails, so she didn’t.
“OK, bye!” Lola said as she skipped out the door and down the hall.
When Lola got home that afternoon, she dropped Mrs. Gunderson’s letter on her grandfather’s drawing table.
“What’s that?” Grampa Ed asked.
“A letter from my teacher,” Lola said.
“You in trouble, kid?”
“No, I think you are.”
“That so?”
“Maybe.”
Grampa was sketching the feet of a bird. He had glued a bunch of things onto his canvas and had drawn a bunch more things. He liked collages. The bird was perched atop a sign that read Western Avenue New and Used Cars. The bird was bigger than the sign.
“Why don’t you open it and read it to me?” Grampa asked.
Lola opened the envelope and removed a handwritten letter with blue ink on white looseleaf paper:
Dear Ms. Jones,
When I was a little girl, my father made a robot costume for me on Halloween. The robot costume had a lot of buttons on the front. Some of the buttons lit up and some did nothing. When I was in the library reaching for a book, I noticed a new button. It was on my right shoulder. When I pushed it, a red light blinked and a loud siren began to wail. I couldn’t make it stop. Finally, I ripped the button off. When I got home, my father asked me if I had pushed all the buttons on the robot costume. I just smiled at him.
The flashing red light in Lola’s hair today reminded me of that robot costume.
I’m enjoying Lola’s interesting hairstyles. I’m enjoying her bravery and her creativity.
Fondly,
Sandy Gunderson
Grampa Ed put down his pencil.
“Read that again, would you please?”
Lola did.
Grampa Ed folded the letter and slid it into his desk drawer. He removed a sheet of new paper and started drawing. Lola watched as Grampa drew a robot with spatulas for hands, a police siren on top of its head, and a big, round red button on its shoulder. He handed Lola his pencil.
“Do me a favor, kid,” he said. “Under the red button in capital letters, but not too big, write this: “CAUTION. DO NOT PUSH BUTTON IN LIBRARY!”
Then he slid the drawing into an envelope and told Lola to give it to her teacher.
“Tell her it’s from your hair stylist,” he said.
The next day was Saturday.
Lola went to swimming lessons in the morning and a birthday party for her friend Jasmine in the afternoon.
Before the birthday party, Lola’s mother took her to a little store on Broadway where they offered 450 different kinds of juice drinks. Lola’s mother ordered one with walnuts, raisins, sweet potato, bananas, and milk. Lola got one with orange juice, mango, and strawberries. Lola liked guessing what color her drink would be when all the ingredients got smashed up in the blender, even though they were usually some dull shade of gray or brown.
“Honey,” Mom said, “how would you feel about having Grampa walk you to school for a while?”
“Why?”
“My boss wants me to start work earlier in the morning,” Mom said.
“I don’t mind if Grampa takes me to school,” Lola said, “but I’m not sure he’s going to like it. And I’m not sure if I can wake him up early. He’s grumpy in the morning.”
“He’s grumpy all day,” Mom said. “But if anyone can wake him, it’s you. That big guy will do anything for you.”
Lola smiled. “Was he like that for you when you were a kid? Would he get up early and do anything for you?”
Now it was Mom’s turn to smile. “Yep,” she said. “He was a really good daddy. But he didn’t make pigtails back then. That’s a new talent for him.”
“Did he draw pictures for you to give your teachers?”
“No, not that I can remember,” Mom said.
When Lola and her mother finished their juices, they took a bus downtown to the bowling alley where Jasmine was having her party. Mom gave Lola a kiss on the top of her head and said she’d be back in three hours. Lola waved goodbye and the girls started bowling.
Soon Jasmine, Maya, Fayth, and Lola were talking and laughing with the other kids at the party and trying to see who could bounce their bowling balls off the bumpers most often on each turn. When Lola’s turn came in the seventh frame, Maya screamed:
“Lola! Oh my gosh!”
Lola turned around. “What?” she asked.
“You don’t have pigtails today! I just realized!”
“I know,” Lola said, and she made a sad face. “It’s Saturday, and my Grampa Ed sleeps late on Saturdays and Sundays.”
“Well, at least you get pigtails most of the time,” Maya said. “I never get them. My hair’s too short! I want to grow it longer, but my mom won’t let me.”
“Why not?” Lola asked.
“She says it’s easier to take care of when it’s short,” Maya said. “My mom has really short hair too.”
“Well, that’s not fair,” Lola said. “You’re eight years old. You’re old enough to be in charge of your own hair.”
“That’s not what my mom says,” Maya said with a shrug.
“Do you brush your own teeth?” Lola asked.
“Yes,” said Maya.
“Do you get dressed by yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Do you pick your own nose?”
The girls all laughed.
“Of course!” Maya said.
The girls laughed louder.
Lola folded her arms and raised her voice: “Then you should be able to pick your hair too!”
On Sunday night, after dinner, Lola’s mother laid out Lola’s school uniform and made her breakfast and lunch. Lola was in bed by eight. She dreamed that night that one of her pigtails held a pencil and the other held an eraser. In the dream, Lola’s pigtails did all her homework and got a perfect ten out of ten on her spelling test.
When Monday’s morning sun slanted through the blinds, Lola got up and went to her mother’s room. Her mother was already dressed and brushing her hair. She wrapped Lola in a hug and kissed her cheek.
“After you get dressed and eat your breakfast, grab your backpack and go down to Grampa’s place,” Mom said. “He said he would wake up early today to walk you to school.”
“OK, Mom,” Lola said.
“And just be patient with Grampa today, sweetie,” Mom said. “He doesn’t like changes in his routine. This isn’t going to be easy for him.”
Lola promised to be nice. She kissed her mother and skipped downstairs to Grampa Ed’s place. Surprise! Grampa Ed was awake. He had already tugged a pair of blue jeans over his pajama pants. Lola was happy to see that Grampa Ed was taking his new job seriously, and she got to work making coffee. Grampa Ed buttoned up a red flannel shirt and put on a gray sweatshirt.
When the coffee was done, Lola delivered the mug and held out a pair of sparkly silver hair ties for her grandfather.
“You’re not tired of pigtails yet?” he asked.
“No way!”
“Any requests?” he asked.
“Whatever you want.”
“I had kind of a crazy dream last night and it gave me an idea. You mind if I try something? If it’s bad, you can take it out.”
“Go for it, Grampa.”
Lola opened Charlottes’s Web and read while Grampa Ed went to work. He picked up an old paper coffee cup, placed it on top of Lola’s head on its side, and stuck it there with a barrette. Then he brushed Lola’s hair as if he were making a big side ponytail and stuffed the ends of the ha
ir inside the coffee cup. He used another barrette to keep the hair in the cup and onto her head.
He took a picture on his phone and showed it to her.
“Holy macaroni!” Lola said.
Her hair looked like coffee spilling out of the cup and onto her head.
“You’re a genius, Grampa!”
“Not too embarrassing to wear to school?”
“Well, there is trash on my head. But it’s a work of art! I like it!”
As Lola and Grampa Ed walked out of Grampa’s apartment, Lola looked down the block and saw Maya and Fayth coming. Maya was accompanied by her mother, and Fayth by her older brother. Lola’s friends ran to meet her, and when they saw the cup on top her head, they shrieked and ran in circles to see Lola’s head from every angle.
“Lola’s Grampa,” Fayth said, “you’re a genius!”
“So I’ve heard,” he said.
“Would you do my hair someday?” she asked.
“Mine too?” asked Maya.
“No, sorry,” he said. “I only work for one customer.”
“Awwwww!” both girls whined.
Maya and Fayth and Lola held hands as they walked. Grampa walked next to Maya’s mother but didn’t talk to her. He looked a little tired and not very happy. When they arrived at school, the girls lined up on the playground and waited for Mrs. Gunderson to lead them into the building. When Mrs. Gunderson arrived, she looked at Lola’s hair but didn’t say anything. Lola handed Mrs. Gunderson the envelope containing her grandfather’s drawing.
“This is from my grandfather,” she said. “He’s over there.”
Mrs. Gunderson smiled and gave a big wave to Lola’s grandfather. Grampa Ed looked around to see if she was waving to someone else. When he realized there was no one else standing nearby, he offered a small wave in return.
When Lola got home that afternoon, she went straight to Grampa Ed’s studio.
“Why do you make pictures for Mrs. Gunderson every time she writes you a letter?” Lola asked.
“Not every time,” Grampa Ed said. “Just once.”
“But why?”
“Because good letter writing is rare,” he said. “And it ought to be rewarded.”
As fall slipped into winter, city workers hung snowflakes and wreaths from the lampposts on Broadway, the air grew snappish and cold, and Christmas trees and holiday lights began to appear in the windows of the apartments on Lola’s block.
Grampa Ed stopped complaining about making pigtails. Lola had the feeling that he was enjoying it, even though he didn’t say so. Grampa Ed received more letters from Mrs. Gunderson, and Mrs. Gunderson received more drawings from Grampa Ed.
At school, Lola became well-known for her unusual hairstyles. Some of her friends, and even kids she didn’t know, began copying her pigtails and making up interesting new designs of their own.
One day, as Grampa Ed was walking Lola to school, he noticed one of the unusual hairstyles.
“Does that boy have a Christmas tree on his head?” he asked.
“I think that’s his hair, Grampa,” Lola said. “It looks like he painted it green and used some kind of gel to make it stand up straight.”
Lola yelled to the boy: “Hey, Lorenzo! Can I see your hair?”
She ran to meet him.
“That’s so cool, Lorenzo! Did you do it yourself?”
“My mom did it,” he said. “I asked her to string blinking lights, but that was too much trouble. I told her I got the idea from you.”
“My grandpa does my hair,” Lola said. “This is my Grampa Ed. Grampa, this is Lorenzo. He’s the smartest boy in my class.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Lorenzo said. “Did you really do all of Lola’s hairstyles?”
Grampa Ed scratched his bald head and looked at the ground. “Um, I guess so,” he said.
“That’s awesome,” Lorenzo said. “The other day one of your pigtails looked like an Alpine Butterfly Loop. I read about those knots in a book about sailing.”
“See, Grampa?” Lola said. “I told you Lorenzo was smart.”
“So you did,” Grampa said.
The school bell rang.
“Bye, Grampa,” Lola said. She stood on her tiptoes, and Grampa Ed bent over for a kiss.
“So long, kid. Have a good day. And, Lorenzo, you take it easy. Don’t let any birds land in that Christmas tree.”
A few days after Christmas, when the children were still on vacation from school, a letter arrived at Lola’s house. It was from the principal of her school, Mr. Raymond Murch.
Lola’s mother read it out loud to Lola and Grampa Ed:
Dear Parents,
As you know, our school has a dress code for students—white collared shirts and blue pants or skirts. The dress code gives us a serious school atmosphere. It helps students concentrate more on their work and less on their clothes. It saves money for families.
We have always encouraged children to express themselves. But in recent weeks, many children have been wearing highly unusual hairstyles. That has caused distractions in some classes. After discussing this with teachers and parents, we have decided to add new language to the dress code so that parents can avoid hairstyles that might get in the way of learning. Beginning in January, when children return to school, they will be allowed to wear only ordinary pigtails and ponytails.
Thank you for your help.
Happy Holidays,
Raymond Murch
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Lola asked her mother.
“I’m afraid it does,” Mom said.
Lola looked at Grampa Ed. He didn’t speak, but his face was unusually red.
“Are you OK, Grampa?” Lola asked.
Grampa Ed made a scraping noise in his throat that wasn’t pleasant.
Grampa put his fork down on the table and asked Mom to read the letter again. When she got to the part about hairstyles causing distractions in some classes, Grampa broke in again: “What’s wrong with a little distraction?” he asked. The question hung there in the air over the dinner table.
Lola was quiet for a long time. Everyone was quiet. Lola was thinking of Charlotte’s Web, again. When Charlotte the spider was unhappy about a situation in the book, she used words to try to change it. Lola was unhappy with Mr. Murch’s new pigtails rule. Could she, Lola, use words to change the situation at school?
Finally, Lola broke the silence: “I think Mr. Murch is wrong,” she said. She paused. “Can I tell him that?”
She looked at her mother and she looked at her grandpa. She thought she saw a smile on her grandpa’s face, but she wasn’t sure.
“What do you want to tell him?” Mom asked.
“I want to tell him I think he’s making a mistake. I think pigtails are fun, and what’s wrong with school being fun? I want to ask him if the kids can vote. I bet the kids would vote for fun pigtails and ponytails. I bet even Mr. Murch would vote for fun pigtails and ponytails if he had long hair and he knew how awesome they were.”
Mom asked: “Lola, are you going to say all that to Mr. Murch? Are you going to go into his office and ask him if you can vote?”
Lola rubbed her chin and thought about it. “Would I get in trouble?” she asked.
“No, if you’re respectful and polite, Mr. Murch will listen,” her mother said.
“Will Mr. Murch be mad?” she asked.
“He might disagree with you,” her mother said, “but I don’t think he’ll be mad.”
“Will someone go with me?” she asked.
Grampa Ed scratched the top of his head, and this time he definitely smiled.
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
On the first day back to school after the winter break, Grampa Ed walked Lola to school early. They went straight to the principal’s office.
“Lola Jones and Ed Jones would like to see Mr. Murch, please,” Grampa Ed said to the secretary at the desk.
Just then Mr. Murch stepped out of his office and saw Lola standin
g with her grandfather. Mr. Murch was a small man with an egg-shaped face and a pointy chin. He wore a blue shirt and a green tie.
“Good morning, Lola,” Mr. Murch said. He looked at Grampa.
“This is my Grampa Ed,” Lola said.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Murch,” Grampa Ed said. The two men shook hands. Grampa Ed was much taller and wider than Mr. Murch.
“We came to talk to you, if that’s OK,” Lola said.
“Of course,” Mr. Murch replied, and he stood and waved Lola and Grampa Ed into his office. Once they were inside, Mr. Murch closed the door.
Everyone sat down.
“What can I do for you?” Mr. Murch asked.
Grampa Ed looked at Lola. Lola took a deep breath and looked straight at Mr. Murch.
“Um, Mr. Murch,” she said, “I was hoping you would change your mind and let us wear pigtails. I mean, not just ordinary pigtails, but even the crazy ones.”
“I see,” Mr. Murch said. “And why do you feel so strongly about it, Lola?”
“Well, because they’re fun,” Lola said. “And they make us feel special. And you said in your letter that the uniform is good because it saves money. And pigtails and ponytails are totally free—and they’re good for preventing lice. And also because I think the kids should get to vote if the rules are going to change, and…”
Lola ran out of words. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. Talking to the principal was harder than she thought.
Grampa Ed placed his hand on Lola’s shoulder, for encouragement, and that made her feel a little better.
Mr. Murch smiled, but it wasn’t really a happy smile.
“Well, Lola,” he said. “I appreciate your opinions. We think all our students are special no matter how they dress. But our main job is to teach our children, and we can’t do that if there are too many distractions.”
Grampa Ed started to make a scraping noise in his throat that wasn’t pleasant, but Lola cut him off. She remembered what her mother said about being respectful and polite. She thought about the polite way Charlotte always spoke to Templeton the rat in Charlotte’s Web, and she chose her next words carefully: “May I please ask you a question?” she asked.
