“Sorry,” Ms. Booth said. “What if the weather is bad?”
“I have already found someone to donate umbrellas,” Justine said.
“It sounds like you have everything covered,” Ms. Booth said. “Let me think about it.”
“Thank you,” Justine said.
“Okay.” Ms. Booth grinned. “I’ve thought about it. Let’s do it!”
Chapter Seven
Justine’s first stop for a parent volunteer was at the home of Sydney Martin, a girl in her class.
Sydney’s house was down the street from Justine’s. It had a fenced yard and a gate. Justine opened the gate and saw Sydney’s little brother Adam sitting on the grass with a cat in his arms.
“Hey, Adam,” Justine said.
“Hey, Justine,” Adam said. “Can you hold Snuggles for me?”
Justine sat beside Adam. “Sure. I like cats.”
“Thank you.” Adam gave the cat to Justine.
Snuggles began to purr in Justine’s arms. Adam lifted the cat’s tail.
“What are you doing?” Justine asked.
“Snuggles is chapped,” Adam said. “Just like how my mom’s lips are dry.”
Adam held the cat’s tail high. He took a tube of lip balm and rubbed it on the cat’s behind.
“Oh! ” Justine said. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I do it all the time,” Adam said. “Snuggles likes it.”
The door to the house opened. “There you are, Adam. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said Mrs. Martin. She walked down the steps.
Justine handed the cat to Adam and stood.
“Hello, Mrs. Martin,” Justine said. “Did you get the information about a walking school bus? I wanted to save paper, so I emailed it to you. I am looking for parent helpers. It will be good for the planet.”
“I can’t remember,” Mrs. Martin said. “I am very busy.” Mrs. Martin looked at Adam. “That’s where my lip balm went. Give it back, please.”
Adam stood and handed Mrs. Martin the lip balm.
“What is a walking school bus?” Mrs. Martin asked Justine. She took the lid off the lip balm. Then she raised it to her lips.
“Don’t do that!” Justine said.
Too late. Mrs. Martin smeared the lip balm across her lips.
“The lip balm,” Justine said. “Adam just used it on Snuggles.”
“Ew,” Mrs. Martin said. “He put it on Snuggles’s mouth?”
“No,” Justine said. “The other end.”
“What!” Mrs. Martin said.
“Under Snuggles’s tail,” Adam said proudly. “Where it is all dry. Snuggles likes it.”
Mrs. Martin wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She spat and spat and spat. When she was finished, her face was very red.
Mrs. Martin glared at Justine. “I saw you holding Snuggles. You helped Adam do that!”
“No,” Justine said. “I didn’t—”
“I know all about you, Miss Queen of Green. I suppose you think helping little boys put lip balm on a cat’s behind is good for the planet too?”
“No. I—”
“You are a weird girl,” said Mrs. Martin. “Please go away and don’t come back.”
Chapter Eight
Justine’s next stop was at the home of Ava Free, another girl in her class. Everybody knew that her dad, Mr. Free, liked everything neat and perfect. He had the best lawn in town and said it was only for looking at, not for walking across.
Before walking up to the door, Justine stopped at the curb. A recycling box was waiting for pickup alongside some garbage cans. She looked inside the recycling box.
“This is good,” Justine said to herself. “Papers. And bottles.”
She lifted the garbage can’s lid and began to pull out garbage. “Very good. Very very good. This is giving me an idea.”
Mr. Free drove up and parked his shiny car in front of the house. When he got out, he saw a tiny spot on the hood. He rubbed it with his sleeve until the hood was shiny and perfect, like the rest of his car.
He marched up to Justine. “What are you doing in our garbage?” he said.
Justine held out her hand for a handshake. “Hello, Mr. Free,” she said. “It is nice to see you. My name is Justine McKeen. I am in your daughter’s class at school.”
“I’m not shaking your hand,” he said. “It is dirty. And it is dirty because it’s been in my garbage. And the garbage is on my perfect lawn!”
“You have nice garbage,” Justine said. “It is giving me an idea.”
“How about this for an idea. You put all that garbage back in the can. It is on my perfect lawn!”
“Of course,” Justine said. “You should be proud of yourself. None of your garbage can be recycled. And everything in your recycle box can be recycled. Many people don’t sort their garbage or recycling, which gives me an idea.”
“I don’t care what your idea is,” Mr. Free said. “You shouldn’t dig through other people’s garbage. Or put it on their perfect lawn!”
“Could I paint your recycling box gold?” Justine asked.
“What?”
“My idea is to give people who do a good job recycling gold recycling boxes. Like when kids get gold stars at school.”
“My idea is that you stay out of my garbage,” Mr. Free said. “You are a weird, weird girl. Please go away.”
Chapter Nine
The next day after school, Justine, Safdar and Michael sat at a table outside Ice-Cream Heaven. It was owned by Mr. Tait. Mr. Tait was Justine’s friend. He had helped her with a greenhouse project.
“This is not good,” Safdar said.
“Are you kidding?” Michael told him. “Your ice-cream cone is two scoops of chocolate, covered with chocolate sprinkles. How could it not be good?”
“I meant this is not good that Justine is so quiet. Look, she’s not even eating her ice cream.”
Justine had not said a word since leaving school. She had only nodded when Mr. Tait asked if she wanted strawberry ice cream on her cone.
“I know you meant it is not good that Justine is so quiet,” Michael said to Safdar. “I was trying to make a joke.”
“Because she’s so quiet?” Safdar asked.
“Yes, because she’s so quiet. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“I’m ready to talk,” Justine said.
“Good!” Safdar said.
“Good!” Michael said.
“But after I do,” Justine said, “I might not talk for the rest of my life.”
“What?” Safdar said.
“What?” Michael said.
“That way I won’t make people mad anymore.” She looked at both of them. “Don’t lie to me. People think I’m weird, right? I can’t get any parents to volunteer for the walking school bus. If I don’t get any parent volunteers, no walking school bus.”
“Yes, people think you are a little weird,” Michael said.
“Just a little?” Justine asked.
“Maybe a tiny bit more than just a little,” Safdar said. “You don’t dress normal. And you are always coming up with ideas for being green.”
Justine looked at Michael. “Do you two think I’m weird?”
“A little,” Michael said.
“Just a little?”
“Maybe a tiny bit more than just a little,” Safdar said.
“Oh,” Justine said. Her strawberry ice cream was melting. “Since you are being so truthful, is there anything else?”
“Well…” Michael said.
“Well, what?” said Justine.
“Well,” Safdar said, “everybody knows you talk a little too much and you boss us around a little too much and that you sometimes don’t tell all of the truth. And—”
Justine got up and threw her ice cream into the garbage and ran away.
“And that’s why we like you so much!” Safdar yelled.
But Justine didn’t hear. She was running too fast.
Chapter Ten
Justine didn’t stop running until she reached the park.
She sat on a bench near some bushes. She didn’t want anyone to see the tears on her face.
A black dog in the park trotted up to the bench. While she was crying, she scratched the dog’s head. It jumped onto the bench and licked her face.
“Thanks,” Justine said. “At least you don’t care that I’m weird.”
The dog licked her face again. She scratched the dog between its ears. The dog thumped its tail.
“Maybe I’ll just come here every day after school and meet you,” Justine said. “I’ll never talk to anyone else. That way I won’t say anything weird or do anything weird that gets me in trouble. Would that be okay with you?”
The dog licked her face again.
“Seems like a yes to me,” Justine said. She stopped crying and put her arm around the dog. “After all,” Justine said, “you don’t think I’m weird. And this is a nice park. Maybe you can help me pick up the litter. It will be just you and me trying to help the planet.”
An old woman walked toward them. The woman used a cane. She wore glasses.
“Hello,” Justine said to the woman as she walked in front of them.
“Hello,” the woman said. “What is your name?”
“Justine McKeen.”
“Are you the girl I heard about who digs through people’s garbage?”
“Well—”
“And who helped a little boy put lip balm on a cat’s behind?”
“Well—”
A loud rude noise erupted underneath Justine. It sounded as if someone had stepped on a duck. It was an F-A-R-T-I-N-G noise.
“How rude!” the woman said.
“It’s not me,” Justine said. “Really.”
The noise started again. It was louder. This time it sounded as if air was coming out of a balloon.
“Rude!” the woman said. “And don’t blame it on the dog.”
Before Justine could say a word, another F-A-R-T-I-N-G noise as loud as a trumpet erupted from under the bench.
“You are a weird, weird girl,” the woman said. She stomped away as fast as she could with her cane.
Jimmy Blatzo stepped out of the bushes behind the bench. He was laughing. He was also holding a remote control.
“That was the funniest thing I ever saw,” he said. “This bench is a perfect place for that trick.”
“Go away, Blazto,” Justine said. “Now that woman thinks I’m weird. Just like everyone else.”
“Not everyone,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “Okay, nearly everyone.”
“Do you think I’m weird?”
“You do make cricket brownies. And you did put a garden on the school roof.”
“Go away, Blazto.” Justine started crying again. “I don’t want you to see me cry.”
“I already saw you cry. That’s why I used my remote control. I was trying to make you laugh.”
“You just made me look even weirder than I am. Tomorrow, I’m going to wear normal clothes to school. I will never do anything to make me look different again.”
“Your friends like you the way you are,” Jimmy said. “Really.”
“Go away, Blazto. I don’t need people like you. All I need is this dog.”
Jimmy Blazto grabbed his farting machine from under the bench and walked away.
Justine McKeen held the dog and sobbed for a long time.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Justine walked to school by herself. She wore a purple hat with a fake flower hanging over the brim. Her sweater was pink with blue polka dots. And her skirt was bright orange.
She was ready for everyone to tease her. But no one in front of the school noticed her.
That’s because Jimmy Blatzo was walking up and down the sidewalk, carrying a big sign. The sign said, WE WANT A WALKING BUS!
Michael was behind him. He was carrying a sign too. It said, MORE WALKING, LESS DRIVING!
Safdar was behind Michael. Safdar’s sign said, HELP US SET UP OUR FIRST WALKING SCHOOL BUS—THEN A BUNCH MORE!!
And behind Safdar, another fifty students walked with signs too. All of them waved their signs at the drivers in their cars.
Justine walked up to Jimmy Blatzo. “Hey, Blatzo,” she said. “What is going on?”
“Quit calling me Blatzo,” he said. “And take this sign. We’ve been waiting for you to lead us.”
He pulled out a sign that was hidden behind his own. The sign said, LET’S WALK THE TALK ABOUT GOING GREEN.
Justine looked at Jimmy Blatzo. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand how important it is to be green? Michael, Safdar and I worked for hours last night to make these signs. Then we called everyone.”
“I don’t understand why you are doing this,” said Justine.
“We are your friends,” Jimmy Blatzo said. “We like you the way you are. You didn’t give us a chance to tell you that. So we decided to show you. Right, Michael? Right, Safdar?”
“Right!” Safdar said.
“Right!” Michael said.
“Did I give you permission to talk?” Jimmy Blazto asked Michael and Safdar.
Michael and Safdar mouthed the word Sorry.
“Much better,” Jimmy Blatzo said.
Justine laughed. Everything was back to normal.
“By the way,” Jimmy Blatzo told her. “Nice hat.”
“I like it,” Justine said. Justine took the sign and began to walk up and down the sidewalk with her friends.
“Didn’t you tell me you were going to dress like everyone else from now on?” Jimmy Blatzo asked.
“I did,” Justine said. “But when I looked in the mirror this morning, I decided it is more important to try to help the planet than it is to worry about what people think about me. So I changed, and I wore this instead.”
Chapter Twelve
It rained on the first day of the walking school bus.
But it didn’t matter. Justine McKeen had ten giant umbrellas. Each umbrella had Ice-Cream Heaven written on it. Mr. Tait had donated all the umbrellas so he could advertise.
Mrs. Martin was at the front of the walking school bus. She felt bad for yelling at Justine. She had learned that Adam had been using lip balm on the cat for a long time. She didn’t feel good about all the times she had used the lip balm, but she felt good about apologizing to Justine.
Mr. Free was at the back of the walking school bus. He had decided it would be a good idea to have a gold recycling bin after all. That way his neighbors who knew he cared about his lawn would also know he cared about the environment.
The walking school bus was a lot of fun. Justine was somewhere in the middle. She had eight other kids to talk with and splash through puddles with.
It was the first walking school bus at their school. A lot of drivers honked to say hello as they passed. Everyone thought it was great that kids cared about the environment enough to ask for a walking school bus.
Justine thought the walking school bus was a success.
It was even better when they arrived at the school. After all the walking school bus passengers shook off their umbrellas, the janitor walked up to them.
“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” Justine said. “We will do our best not to make a mess with the wet umbrellas.”
“That’s okay, Justine,” Mr. Barnes said. “I just came to say thank you. I think the idea you gave me yesterday to stop the girls from putting lipstick on the bathroom mirrors is going to work. How did you think of it?”
“I saw what happened with a little boy, a cat named Snuggles and a tube of lip balm,” Justine said. “Maybe someday I will tell you about it.”
“Well, your idea to stop the lipstick on the mirrors is so good, I’ll be very surprised if I ever have to clean off any more smooch marks.”
“I hope you’re right,” Justine said. “I want to make up for the extra work you had to do when the roof garden wrecked the roof.”
“Don’t worry
,” Mr. Barnes said. “I’ve decided it’s important to be green, and a person needs to keep trying out different ideas.” He winked at Justine. “I hope your class enjoys the video.”
Chapter Thirteen
Justine’s teacher, Mrs. Howie, rolled out the class television. She put a DVD in the player.
“Students,” Mrs. Howie said. “Our principal has asked that every class watch this DVD. There has been a problem with girls putting lipstick marks on the bathroom mirrors. This DVD has a message from our principal and the janitor.”
Mrs. Howie turned off the lights and pressed Play.
On the screen, Ms. Booth was holding a video camera and pointing it at a mirror in one of the girls’ bathrooms. Her reflection appeared in the mirror.
She zoomed in on the smooch marks on the mirror. “This has become a problem because it is a lot of work for our janitor, Mr. Barnes. I thought I would show you how difficult it is for him to clean the mirror.”
Ms. Booth turned the video camera toward Mr. Barnes. He wore rubber gloves. He was holding a large sponge. He waved at the camera. Then he spoke.
“I know it is fun for girls to kiss the mirrors,” Mr. Barnes said. “But these marks are not fun to clean. The first thing I do is get this sponge wet. I like to recycle water instead of wasting it from the tap.”
The video camera followed him as he walked to a toilet. He pushed the sponge into the toilet water. When he lifted the sponge out, toilet water dripped from the sponge.
“Next,” Mr. Barnes said, “I use this sponge to clean the mirror.”
With the sponge full of toilet water, he walked to the mirror. He washed the mirror with the sponge. Toilet water dripped down the mirror. When the lipstick marks were finally gone, he squeezed the sponge out over the sink. Then he wiped the mirror again with the sponge to get the last of the toilet water off.
“Every day after school, I have to clean the mirrors with toilet water,” Mr. Barnes said. “So now you know how much work it is for me. And you can help me by not kissing the mirrors anymore. Thank you.”
Justine McKeen, Walk the Talk Page 2
