News From Me, Lucy McGee

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News From Me, Lucy McGee Page 4

by Mary Amato


  When I’m very upset, I sit on the floor in my closet. I usually keep the door open because I don’t like the dark. And I usually sit on the special pillow that I keep in there that I call my ice-cream pillow because it is soft and white. But this time I threw the pillow out of the closet and sat on the cold hard floor and closed the door tight. That just shows you how upset I was.

  After a while, I heard some little feet and then the door opened and there was a wolf looking at me. It wasn’t a real wolf. It was Leo with his wolf mask on. Actually, the mask doesn’t really look like a wolf face, it’s just a paper plate with a lot of brown crayon marks on it, but we know it’s a wolf.

  Leo lifted the mask. “Mom’s home.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Are you mad or sad?” he asked.

  “I’m mad and sad.”

  “That’s bad,” Leo said.

  Mad. Sad. Bad. Those were some good rhymes. I could make a song out of that, I thought, and then I remembered that I wasn’t in the Songwriting Club or the Craft Club, and I wanted to cry.

  “Go like this,” Leo said, and he leaned his head back and howled like a wolf. “Aawooo!” Well, he’s only five, so it was more like a baby wolf.

  “Why should I do that?” I asked.

  “It’s what us wolves do when we’re mad or sad, and it makes us feel better. Do it.”

  I yelled, “You’re not a wolf, Leo! You’re a human being! Go away!” I slammed the door again.

  He started crying.

  Let me tell you something. Hearing a little wolf cry outside your door makes you want to stay in a dark closet forever.

  “Cry in your own room,” I said. I heard him run. Lily’s little footsteps followed.

  I felt terrible. I thought about all the cleaning I did for Scarlett and all the creepy bugs I swept up or flicked away. Most of them were dead, but that’s the thing about bugs. Even the dead ones are creepy. I thought about how she tricked me into being her maid. All because of Scarlett, I had ruined my chances of being in the Songwriting Club, lied to my parents, and yelled at poor Leo. Twice.

  I got madder and madder and then I howled. “Aawoo!”

  Leo was right. It felt good to howl.

  “Aawoo!”

  In the distance I heard a sound coming from Leo and Lily’s room.

  “Aawoo!”

  I crawled out of my closet.

  “Aawoo!”

  Leo was sitting in his closet howling, and Lily was standing there sucking on her pacifier looking at him.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Leo. You’re right about howling.”

  “Go away,” he said.

  Lily took her pacifier out and pointed it at me. “Bad.”

  And then they both howled.

  Get ready, fingers. After the long talk with my mom and dad, I had a lot of writing to do.

  Dear Ms. Adamson,

  I’m sorry I made you worry. I know you have better things to do after school than to drive to my house and see me get in trouble. Unfortunately, I have been on a roll with being bad, but I’m really trying to improve. My mom said I scared the living daylights out of you. I don’t know what that is, but I hope this letter puts the living daylights back in.

  Sincerely,

  Lucy McGee

  Dear Phillip’s Mom,

  I know that you took time out of your busy day to help find me. That was a total waste of your time because I wasn’t lost or kidnapped or anything. I’m sorry. I also know that grown-ups have lives for Pete’s sake. My dad said that. I’m not sure who Pete is, but I know it’s important. Thank you and it won’t happen again.

  Sincerely,

  Lucy McGee

  Dear Phillip,

  I promised you I would go to your club and then I did a take-back without even telling you. I’m sorry. I kind of did it twice, because that day I said my throat hurt it didn’t really. You were excellent on THE MORNING MIX.

  Lucy

  On Monday, I gave everybody my “sorry” letters. Phillip still wouldn’t look at me.

  During math, I kept thinking about Scarlett and I got mad again. Then an idea started jumping up and down in my head. A very sneaky idea. A way to get back at Scarlett. After lunch, I wrote one more letter. This one was to Scarlett.

  Hi Scarlett,

  I’m sooooooo sorry that I spilled the tea. How clumsy of me. I will be a much better maid next Wednesday, if you give me another chance. I’ll bake fancy cookies with frosting. Please say yes.

  Love, Lucy

  She wrote me back:

  Okay.

  Little did Scarlett know what I was going to put into those fancy cookies! Mwa-ha-ha!

  On Tuesday night, I asked my parents for permission to bake cookies. “I want to do it all by myself. They’re to share with my friends for a special event.”

  “Not Scarlett?” Dad asked.

  “Actually, yes,” I said. “Can I go there tomorrow after school? I want to do something nice.”

  My mom’s eyes got very crinkly on the sides, and she gave me a big hug. “Honey, that is such a sweet plan.”

  Dad jumped in for a group hug.

  It wasn’t sweet of me at all, which made my stomach feel terrible. As soon as I got my revenge on Scarlett, I was going to be nice again. “Okeydokey,” I said. “I better get to work.”

  I used flour, butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, baking powder, and…bugs. Yep. When no one was looking I collected bugs and smashed them up and mixed them in. I only used dead bugs, so the bugs didn’t mind. I spread fancy white frosting on the top to hide them. I couldn’t wait to serve them at the Craft Cottage.

  Mwa-ha-ha!

  I did make five cookies without any bugs. I gave one to Leo.

  “You are a very smart wolf,” I said. “Thank you for teaching me to howl.”

  He jumped up and licked my cheek and gobbled up his cookie.

  Then I gave one to Lily, one to Mom, and one to Dad.

  Who got the fifth bugless cookie? Me. Lucy McGee.

  After school the next day, Scarlett and I ran to her house. I put on the apron, made the iced tea, and showed off my cookies in the cookie tin I brought.

  “Ooh,” Scarlett said. “They have frosting. How pretty.”

  Mwa-ha-ha! Scarlett was going to get what she deserved. A mouthful of bugs. I was going to laugh and laugh and laugh.

  Victoria, Mara, and Resa came, and Scarlett started dancing around. They were all wearing their necklaces.

  “Welcome again to the Craft Club,” Scarlett said. “Come into the cottage for some delicious refreshments. We’re going to make matching bracelets today.”

  Resa smiled at me. “You can sit in my chair, Lucy. I can play the waitress this time.”

  My throat got a funny lump in it. Resa was nice. She would never make cookies with bugs in them. I felt terrible.

  “That’s okay,” Scarlett said. “Lucy wanted to make us these cookies. Right, Lucy?”

  “Um…right,” I said.

  The girls sat down. Scarlett passed around my tin of cookies and each girl took one.

  “Thank you, Lucy,” Resa said. “These look delicious.”

  I thought I would be happy, but I wasn’t. The kind of happy you get when you do something mean to someone else isn’t the good kind of happy.

  “Cheers,” Scarlett said.

  They were about to take a bite.

  “Wait,” Resa said. “Lucy, you should have a cookie, too.” She picked up the tin and held it out to me.

  I looked at those cookies. I knew what horrible bits were hiding under that pretty frosting.

  “Take a big one,” Resa said. Her brown eyes were smiley in a real way. I had to do something. Fast.

  I pointed up and screamed, “Spider!”

  The girls all dropped their cookies and jumped up. The beads went flying.

  Scarlett started screaming and ran out. The other girls followed.

  I put all the cookies back into my tin and ran out. “Got to
go. Bye.”

  “Wait, Lucy,” Scarlett called out. “Did you kill the spider?”

  “Yep. I have to go. Bye.”

  The last thing I heard was Scarlett’s angry voice: “You should leave us those cookies, Lucy McGee!”

  My feet were on fire. I ran to school and went straight into Ms. Adamson’s classroom. The Songwriting Club was still having its meeting. Phillip wasn’t the only one in the club anymore. Saki was there with another fifth- grade girl named Natalie and a second-grade boy named Riley. They were sitting in the circle playing their ukes and smiling. The orange uke was sitting on an empty chair.

  They all stopped and looked at me.

  I looked crazy. I was sweaty. My hair was a mess from running so fast. I was wearing an apron and holding a tin of cookies.

  “I keep making bad choices!” I blurted out. “I went to Scarlett’s just to get revenge even though I really wanted to come here. Then I came here even though I didn’t ask my parents for permission. They think I’m at Scarlett’s. Now you probably won’t let me in.”

  “Did you bring us cookies?” Riley asked.

  I looked down. “Trust me. You don’t want these cookies. It’s a long story, but I put bugs in them.”

  “You what?” Saki laughed.

  “I’m sorry I kept changing my mind, Phillip, but this is the club I want to be in. Can I join? Please, please, please. I’m on my knees, knees, knees.” I got on my knees, which actually hurt.

  Phillip picked up the orange uke and held it out to me.

  Orange is the color of happiness.

  “Hold on,” Ms. Adamson said. “I need to call your parents. If you broke the rules again, they might want you to come straight home.”

  While Ms. Adamson went to get her cell phone, Phillip looked at us. “We were just brainstorming ideas for today’s song.”

  “Let’s write a song about cookies,” Riley said. “I like chocolate chip cookies.”

  “I like peanut butter, too!” Natalie said. “And dulce le leche cookies from Peru! My grandma makes them. Delicious!”

  “That’s a good start,” Phillip said. He strummed his uke and sang.

  Gimme chocolate chip cookies

  and peanut butter, too!

  Gimme dulce le leche

  cookies from Peru.

  “I like gingersnaps. Oatmeal cookies, too.” Riley said.

  “Ooh snickerdoodles!” Saki said. “And my grandma is from Honolulu. She makes cookies with coconut. I forget what they’re called.”

  “This is great,” Phillip said. He sang:

  Gimme gingersnaps and oatmeal

  and snickerdoodle-doos

  and all the coconut cookies

  they got in Honolulu!

  I jumped in and sang.

  Just don’t give me cookies

  with bugs ’cuz it’s true,

  dead bug bodies are

  very hard to chew.

  Everybody laughed.

  We were just about to sing the whole song together when Ms. Adamson came back holding out the phone to me.

  “Lucy,” my dad said. “What’s going on?”

  “I am having the best time, Dad. Please let me stay!” I said. “I should have called before I left Scarlett’s house, but it was an emergency. I’m sorry. My brain was confused. I really want to be in the Songwriting Club! It is very educational. Please say yes.”

  My dad sighed. “You can stay, but this is your final warning, Lucy. You have to tell us where you’re going to be and stick to it from now on.”

  “I promise.”

  “Come right home after the Songwriting Club.”

  “I will!” I said good-bye and jumped up and down. I could stay!

  Ms. Adamson put away her phone, and Phillip taught us how to play the new song.

  I wasn’t very good at first, but we played the song in slow motion. By the third time, I was a teeny-tiny bit better.

  Everybody clapped. It was time to go.

  “If we practice over the weekend, we could play this song next week on The Morning Mix,” Saki said.

  “We…as in you all and me?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Phillip said.

  Yippie!

  “Lucy, would you like to take a uke home to practice?” Ms. Adamson asked.

  “Now?” Wow!

  Who knew dead bugs could be so inspiring! I played our song with my ukulele on the couch, in bed, at the dinner table, and on the porch. I wanted to play it in the bathtub, but my mom said no. I taught Leo how to play it. I even let Lily hold the uke, but only for one second. She wanted to swing it like a hockey stick, so I took it back.

  On Monday the Songwriting Club met at recess, and we practiced. On Tuesday we got to perform on The Morning Mix.

  A fifth grader named Pablo was the host. We sang our cookie song.

  * * *

  —

  After we were done singing, Pablo looked into the camera and said, “That was great!” Then he turned to Phillip and asked if he could join the club.

  “Sure,” Phillip said. “We meet on Wednesdays in the music room.”

  Pablo smiled into the camera. “I think the Songwriting Club will be performing here again soon! And now, here’s the weather.”

  We tiptoed out of the TV studio and gave each other hugs and high fives.

  “We did it! Our first performance!” Phillip said.

  Some fourth graders walked by and clapped for us. On the way back to our classrooms more people told us how good we were.

  “It’s the stars of The Morning Mix!” Mrs. Brock said when Phillip and I walked in.

  “They just sang one little song,” Scarlett said in a mean way.

  Resa smiled at us. “That song was hilarious. You guys sounded really good.”

  “Is Pablo really going to join?” Mara asked. Mara has a thing for Pablo.

  Scarlett turned red. “Mrs. Brock,” she said. “I don’t think it’s fair for the Songwriting Club to perform again. Another club should get a turn to be on The Morning Mix. I have a club, and we should get a turn.”

  “I thought it wasn’t real TV,” I said.

  Scarlett made a mean face at me.

  “The Morning Mix is about school activities, Scarlett,” Mrs. Brock said. “The Songwriting Club is for anyone at school who wants to join.”

  “My club is, too,” she said.

  “It is not,” I said.

  She gave me a mean look. “I changed it.”

  “That’s enough,” Mrs. Brock said. “It’s time for math.”

  At lunch, Scarlett made invitations and handed them out.

  Everyone is invited to my new club next Wednesday called Scarlett’s Songwriter Club. We’re going to practice a really good song to perform on The Morning Mix. Meet me on the playground after school on Wednesday. Free cookies! Pass it on!

  Phillip was sitting across from me at the lunch table. He looked sad. “She’s a copycat,” he said. “She’s going to steal away my people. People like free cookies.”

  “I left my cookies in Ms. Adamson’s room,” I said. “We can always serve them.”

  “Bug cookies?” He gave me a horrified look.

  “It was a joke,” I said.

  He didn’t laugh. “You probably want to go to her club.”

  “No way!” I said. “I promise I will be there. And I will tell everybody to come to your club! It’ll be okay, Phillip.” I held out my bag of potato chips. “Want one?”

  He smiled.

  The kind of happy you get when you do something nice for someone else is the best kind of happy.

  Seventy-two cookies! On Wednesday, Scarlett came with a box that had seventy-two fancy cookies in it and more invitations.

  Scarlett’s Songwriter Club will meet on the playground today! Free cookies!

  Phillip looked worried. During math, when Mrs. Brock wasn’t looking, he passed Scarlett a note.

  I was dying to know what it said.

  After math was over, and we wer
e getting our science notebooks out, Scarlett walked by me and dropped the note on my desk.

  It said:

  We should make one big club. It will be better this way. Meet on the playground. Free cookies! Pass it on.

  —Phillip

  One big club with Scarlett? Wow. That was a surprise! I passed the note to Resa. She read it and passed it on.

  Phillip had a dentist appointment, so I couldn’t talk to him at recess or lunch, but during lunch I told Saki, Natalie, Pablo, and Riley what Phillip wanted.

  Phillip came back from the dentist during our last period, but we were too busy to talk. After school, he had to stay with Mrs. Brock a few minutes to get the work he missed, so I grabbed my uke from my cubby and ran out to the playground to make sure that everybody was waiting for him.

  Scarlett was on the grassy part of the playground with her cookies. Saki, Riley, and Natalie were there with their ukes. Resa, Victoria, Mara, Pablo, and three other fifth graders were there. Everybody was sitting on the grass except Scarlett, who was jumping up and down and passing cookies around. I joined the circle.

  “This is so great!” she said. “I have an amazing song for us to sing on The Morning Mix.”

  Then we all heard a very loud “Hey!” I looked up and saw that the window of Ms. Adamson’s room was open and Phillip was looking out.

  “You are mean, Lucy McGee!” He yelled it loud enough for the whole world to hear.

  My face got hot. I stood up. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said you wanted to be in my club,” he yelled. “You’re a liar!”

  “I do. What are you doing in there? You said to meet out here,” I said.

  “I did not!” he yelled.

 

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