by Barbara Park
I tapped on Herb real curious.
“What would you do with ten lords a-leaping, do you think?” I said.
He thought for a minute. “I'd take them back and get store credit,” he said.
I nodded. That Herb has all the answers.
After that, we sang “Frosty the Snowman” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “Winter Wonderland.”
Finally, Mr. Toot stood up at his piano. And he said it is time for “Jingle Bells”!
Room One hurried to the stage.
It was very thrilling. Except for May kept on sticking to me like glue.
She stepped on my heels going up the steps.
Then she crowded in real close to me.
And she whispered in my ear.
“I'll be listening to you, Junie Jones,” she said. “I'll be hearing every word you sing.”
I smiled to just myself. 'Cause I had a surprise up my arm, that's why.
Pretty soon, Mr. Toot raised his hands to start the song.
I stood up straight and tall.
Then I took a big breath. And I sang the words out, loud and clear.
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O'er the fields we go,
Laughing all the way. (ha, ha, ha)
Bells on bobtail ring,
Making spirits bright.
What fun it is to ride and sing
A sleighing song tonight!
My eyes glanced over at May.
Her face looked disappointed, almost.
I smiled. Then I took another breath. And I sang the chorus in her ear.
Ohhh …
Jingle bells,
Batman smells.
P.S. So does Maaay….
I'd throw May
Right off the sleigh,
And then I'd drive away.
“HEY!” yelled May.
I laughed at that funny comment. 'Cause “HEY!” fit right into the song!
Room One sang the chorus again. But I was laughing too hard to sing.
It was the joke of my life, I tell you!
Only too bad for me.
'Cause—as soon as we got back to the room—May tattletaled her head off.
It was not good.
Mr. Scary called us up to his desk.
He said he is very disappointed in both of us. Only unfortunately there is not enough time left to send us to the office.
I started to relax a teensy bit.
Only just then, the bad news came.
'Cause … what do you know?
Mr. Scary said there was exactly enough time for him to write a note to our parents.
4
Going Last
I put down my pencil. And I glared my eyes at May's head.
She did not look up from her journal.
“I know you're staring at me, Junie Jones. But I don't care that we got notes sent home,” she said. “My mother was proud of me, in fact. She said that you deserved to get tattled on.”
I glared harder.
Sometimes if you glare hard enough, you can melt people's heads. I saw that on a movie commercial once.
It was PG-13, I believe.
I kept squinting and glaring. But May's head did not melt.
Finally, I rested my eyes.
I will try to melt her again at lunch.
Just then, Mr. Scary stood up at his desk. And he said to put our journals away.
“Boys and girls, today is the day for our first visit to the Holiday Gift Shop in the media center. Remember?” he said. “I sent a notice about it home to your parents last week.”
He smiled. “Today we'll just be looking at the gifts,” he said. “Then, on Friday, we'll go back with our money and buy the things we want.”
I waved my hand all around.
“Guess what, Mr. Scary? Guess what? My mother said I get to spend one whole dollar on every person in my family! And that adds up to five entire dollars!” I said.
Lucille raised her hand.
“I can spend all the money in the world,” she said. “I'm rich.”
She stood up and fluffed herself. “My family has more money than you can shake a stick at.”
Mr. Scary stared at her a real long time.
“Yes, well, fortunately, we don't need to be rich to shop at the gift shop, Lucille,” he said at last. “Everything there is very affordable. Does everyone know what affordable means?”
“I do! I do!” I called out. “Affordable means cheap! My grampa Frank Miller loves cheap.”
Sheldon jumped up. “Hey, my grampa loves cheap, too! My gramma calls him Cheap Old Ned.”
Mr. Scary did a chuckle.
“Before we go to the gift shop, we're going to draw names for our Secret Santa gift party. That way, you'll be able to look for your Secret Santa gifts while you're down there, too,” he said.
“We've been talking about this party all week. Can anyone tell me the most important rule about being a Secret Santa?”
Room One shouted the rule together.
“YOU MUST KEEP THE SECRET!”
Mr. Scary did a thumbs-up.
“Yes! Excellent! After you pick your name today, you must keep the name a secret,” he said. “If you don't keep the secret … then you're not really a Secret Santa, are you?”
After that, he carried around a basket with everyone's names in it. And all of the children closed their eyes. And they picked a name.
Only too bad for me.
'Cause I am in the very last seat of the very last row.
And so—when Mr. Scary finally got to me—there was only one dumb name left in the whole entire basket!
And here is the dumbest part of all.
My teacher pretended I should be happy about it.
“Congratulations, Junie B. Jones!” he said. “You have the honor of choosing the final name!”
I drummed my fingers very annoyed.
“Okay, see … one name left is not actually called choosing,” I said. “One name left is called take it or leave it.”
I crossed my mad arms.
“I hate being in this seat, Mr. Scary. I hate it, I hate it! I get all the bad stuff back here,” I said. “Even on the very first day of school, I got the only crayons that were already used.”
Mr. Scary looked up at the ceiling.
“Yes, Junie B. I know that. We all know that,” he said. “You mention it every time we color.”
I looked at some of my friends.
“Did I mention that my red crayon wasn't even pointy? 'Cause it wasn't, you know. My red crayon was already—”
“Roundy,” said Lennie. “Yes. You told us that already.”
I drummed my fingers some more.
“Did I mention that my greenie was broken in half?” I asked. “My greenie was just a teensy little—”
“Stubbie,” said José. “Sí. You told us that, too.”
Mr. Scary handed me the last name.
“Look. Right now, someone in this room is counting on you to be their Secret Santa, Junie B.,” he said. “So you really need to read that name … now.”
I did a sigh.
Then I slid down in my chair real glum.
And I read the name.
5
Elf Ladies
My head clunked down on my desk real hard.
Mr. Scary read the name on my paper.
I raised up and looked at him. Then I clunked back down again.
Mr. Scary said to please knock off the clunking.
He took my hand and stood me up.
“Boys and girls, Junie B. needs a little bit of help reading the name,” he said. “We'll be right back.”
Then, quick as a wink, he hurried me into the hall. And he closed the door.
I crossed my mad arms again.
“It's not fair, Mr. Scary. I hate that dumb name! I hate it. I hate it,” I said.
My teacher snapped his fingers.
“You know I don't
allow that word in my classroom, Junie B.,” he said. “We do not hate in Room One.”
I looked all around myself.
“But I'm not hating in Room One,” I said. “I'm hating in the hall.”
Mr. Scary looked at me.
“We don't hate in the hall, either,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows real curious.
“Really? No kidding,” I said. “A lot of children will be surprised to hear that.”
Mr. Scary bent down next to me.
“Look. I know you and May aren't the best of friends,” he said. “But this is the time of peace and goodwill, remember? And being a Secret Santa to someone you don't like is the truest form of goodwill there is.”
I stared at him.
How do teachers come up with this stuff?
“Really, Junie B.,” he said. “If you do something nice for May, you'll feel so proud inside. It will feel like a gift that you've given yourself.”
I kept staring.
Maybe they pick it up at teacher school.
After that, he ruffled my hair. And he walked me back inside.
Pretty soon, all of the children lined up at the door. And we followed Mr. Scary to the gift shop.
The media center is down the hall and round the corner.
There was a gift-shop lady in an elf hat.
“Welcome, Room One!” she said. “Welcome to our Holiday Gift Shop!”
She smiled at us with big white teeth.
“I'm the president of the PTO,” she said. “My name is Mrs. Hooks. But—just for today—you can call me Elf Ellen.”
She looked all around. “Some of you might know my son, Jeff. Jeff is a big third grader.”
Roger raised his hand in the air.
“I know Jeff Hooks,” he said. “Jeff Hooks stole my milk money last year.”
Elf Ellen stood there very frozen. Then she quick pointed across the room.
“Over there is Elf Wendy. Elf Wendy and I are here to help you with your gift selections. If you have any questions, please let us know.”
Roger waved his hand again.
“Did Jeff Hooks ever get punished for what he did? I reported him to the office.
But I never got my money back.”
Elf Ellen squinted her eyes at him. “I meant questions about the gift shop,” she said.
After that, she passed out lists with all the gift items on them. And she told us about the prices.
“Children, as you can see, each of our five gift tables has a number on it,” she said. “The number on the table matches the price of all the gifts on that particular table.”
She pointed. “For example, all of the gifts on Table One sell for one dollar. And all of the gifts on Table Two sell for two dollars. And the gifts on Table Three sell for three dollars … and so on. Does everyone understand?”
Sheldon raised his hand.
“What about the gifts on Table Four?” he said. “How much do they go for?”
Elf Ellen sucked in her cheeks.
“Table Four has a four on it, doesn't it? Four means four. They sell for four dollars.”
Sheldon nodded very thoughtful.
“I see,” he said. “And Table Five?”
Elf Ellen looked at Mr. Scary. “Is he pulling my leg?”
Mr. Scary grinned.
Sheldon grinned, too.
Roger called out another question.
“Where's Table Thirty-five Cents?” he asked. “That's how much Jeff Hooks still owes me. Is there a Table Thirty-five Cents?”
Elf Ellen glared her eyes at Roger.
Then she quick reached into her pocket.
And she gave him thirty-five cents.
“There,” she said. “Are you satisfied?”
After that, she took off her elf hat. And she put it on the counter. And she said she is going on break.
Roger smiled.
Mr. Scary smiled, too.
6
Giving
Elf Wendy clapped her hands together.
She said it is time for us to browse around. Except for please do not break the toys. And please do not eat the candy canes. And please do not blow our nose on the handkerchiefs.
I skipped to Table Two real excited.
'Cause I already saw something that I loved!
“Crayons! They got crayons!” I said very thrilled.
I picked them up and looked inside.
“Look! Look! The red has a sharp head! And greenie is not even a stubbie!”
I breathed their brand-new smell.
“Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. I would love, love, love to buy these things,” I said.
Just then, my friend Herbert pulled me over to Table One.
“Tattoos! Tattoos! They've got tattoos, Junie B.! And they really, really look real,” he said.
I did a gasp at those things.
There were pirate tattoos! And dragon tattoos! And dinosaur tattoos! And kitty-cat tattoos! Plus also, they had a nice variety of swamp animals!
“Whoa! That is all the tattoos a kid could ever dream of!” I said. “I would love, love, love to buy those things!”
Then, all of a sudden, my eyes glanced over at Table Three. And my whole entire mouth fell open.
It was …
“GLOW-IN-THE-DARK BARRETTES!” I yelled real excited. “I've always, always wanted these things!”
“Cool,” said Herb.
“I know they are cool, Herbert!” I said. “'Cause if you lose your hair in the dark, you will always, always be able to find it.”
Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I spun around.
It was May.
“You shouldn't be wanting to buy gifts for yourself, Junie Jones,” she said. “We are here to buy gifts for others.”
I put my hands over my ears.
“WHOOPS! BAD NEWS! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!” I said.
May raised up her voice.
“It is nicer to give than to receive!” she shouted. “Giving is the spirit of the holiday season! I am a giver! I give, and I give, and I give, and I give!”
Just then, I thought I heard another voice.
I turned to look.
Mr. Scary was calling out some words to us, I think.
“YEAH, ONLY I CAN'T ACTUALLY HEAR YOU! I'VE GOT MY HANDS OVER MY EARS!” I called back.
He walked over to me and took my hands away.
His face did not look happy.
“You two aren't having another problem, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head very rapid.
“Nope. No sirree. No problem,” I said. “I was just being thrilled at these gifts. That's all I was doing.”
May stood up real proud.
“And I was just telling her to be a giver like me,” she said. “My mother says that some people are born to be givers. And other people are born to be shellfish.”
She glanced her eyes at me.
I stood there very puzzled.
Then I looked up at Mr. Scary.
“I don't even care for shellfish,” I said.
He did a little smile.
He said May and I could browse some more. But to please keep our voices down.
Only what do you know?
As soon as he said that, we heard the loudest noise of the day!
And it's called HA! SOMEONE IN ROOM ONE DID THE GIANTEST BURP IN THE WORLD!
Our heads spun around to see.
And we could not believe our eyeballs.
“LUCILLE! IT WAS LUCILLE!” we shouted.
Then all of us started laughing at once.
“LUCILLE BURPED! SHE BURPED! SHE BURPED!” we hollered again.
“I didn't even know rich people burped!” I said.
“Me neither!” said Sheldon. “I am pleasantly surprised.”
Lucille stamped her expensive foot.
“BUT I DIDN'T BURP! I DIDN'T! I DIDN'T! I DIDN'T!” she yelled.
She held up a round toy in her hand. It looked like a beanbag, sort of.
“IT WAS THIS THING!” she said.
“THIS THING BURPED! NOT ME!”
Lucille gave it a squeeze.
And HA!
ANOTHER GIANT BURP!
Room One laughed until our sides hurt.
Even May was laughing!
Plus Mr. Scary was laughing, too!
A good burp can bring the whole world together, I tell you!
Mr. Scary went to Table Five.
And he read us some information about that toy.
“It costs five dollars. And it's called a Squeez-a-Burp,” he said.
All of us clapped at that silly name.
“A Squeez-a-Burp! A Squeez-a-Burp!” we hollered. “Squeeze the Squeez-a-Burp again, Mr. Scary!”
Mr. Scary smiled. But he shook his head no. And he put it back on the table.
“I think we've had enough burping for one day. Don't you?” he said.
Room One did a groan.
“How can you have too much burping?” said José. “Burping is pure entertainment.”
Sheldon nodded. “I agree. My grampa can burp the ‘Star-Spangled Banner,'” he said. “I've been trying to bring him in for Show-and-Tell. But he's booked solid.”
I looked at Sheldon very admiring.
He comes from a talented family, I think.
After that, all of the children hurried to Table Five. And we gathered around the Squeez-a-Burps.
We read the writing on one of the bags.
It said:
SQUEEZ-A-BURP
World's Biggest Belch in a Bag!
“That gift is a genius,” I said. “I would love, love, love to buy that thing.”
“Who wouldn't?” said Lennie.
“Sí,” said José. “Even my grandmother would love a belch in a bag.”
Shirley slumped her shoulders.
“I just wish it didn't cost five whole dollars,” she said. “Five dollars is a lot of money for a burp.”
“Yeah,” said Sheldon. “Except for my grampa, everyone in my family still burps for free.”
After that, all of the children walked away to browse some more.
Only not me.
I just kept standing there and standing there.
'Cause the Squeez-a-Burp was the funnest gift I ever heard of.
