by Suzy Kline
Song Lee started to cry.
“Who touched that butterfly wing?” Miss Mackle asked.
No one said anything.
“I just explained to everyone this morning about not touching the butterfly. That could keep the butterfly from flying!”
Song Lee was sobbing now.
“Who did this?”
Harry jabbed my side. When I looked at him, he was raising his eyebrows three times.
The Big Black Bag Plan!
I lowered my eyebrows. WHAT? I pantomimed.
Harry pantomimed back, TELL HER I DID IT.
Huh? I thought. Put the blame on Harry? How could I do that? He was my buddy. He was innocent.
I looked at Song Lee. She was still crying. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.
Then Harry jabbed me and raised his eyebrows up and down again three times.
This was The Plan.
Slowly, I opened my mouth.
“Harry ... did ... it.”
“Harry?” Miss Mackle replied.
“Yeah, I did it.”
Song Lee looked up at Harry, and then wiped her eyes with her blouse sleeve.
“That’s the last straw, Harry!” Miss Mackle said. “You will report to the Suspension Room tomorrow.”
The Dungeon! I thought.
When Miss Mackle walked back to her desk to write a note to Harry’s parents, Harry folded his arms. “I’ll find out what’s in Sk-skooghammer’s black bag now.”
I stared at Harry.
He was trying to be the tough guy.
But he was stuttering.
“What about Skooghammer?” I asked. “You said you would never want to spend a whole day with him.”
Harry shivered. “I wouldn’t. And I’m not going to. I plan to be in the Dungeon about fifteen minutes, just long enough to check out the place and find out what sharp weapons are in his bag. At 9:15, you tell Miss Mackle what really happened.”
“You want me to rat on Song Lee?”
“No! Just tell the truth. Song Lee was out of the room when the teacher talked about the butterfly’s wings. Song Lee won’t be in trouble. She didn’t know. Miss Mackle will feel bad, and come and get me.”
Then Harry paused.
“Make that ten minutes in the Dungeon. Tell Miss Mackle at 9:10.”
I shook my head.
Harry didn’t know what he was getting himself into.
His Big Black Bag Plan depended on two important things.
Harry’s bravery.
My tattling on Song Lee.
Neither was a sure thing.
Harry Goes to the Dungeon
The next morning Harry was not himself.
He came into Room 2B, sat down, and folded his hands.
He never does that.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Harry nodded.
Then it came to me.
Harry wanted Miss Mackle to change her mind about sending him to the Dungeon.
I looked around the room. Song Lee wasn’t there yet. I wondered if she was going to be absent.
Miss Mackle looked at the carnations on her desk. “Who brought these?”
Harry raised his hand. “I did. They’re for the butterflies. They need pollen.”
Then he flashed a toothy smile.
It was Harry’s way of saying he was sorry about yesterday.
Miss Mackle smiled back. “How thoughtful! Thank you, Harry.”
Everyone watched Miss Mackle snap the heads off the three carnations and place them on the floor of the butterfly cage.
Two painted ladies landed on them right away. We watched them sniff the petals.
A minute later, when Mr. Skooghammer appeared at the doorway, the entire class turned to look.
“Man, he’s weird,” Dexter whispered behind me.
Some other kids whispered about the earring in his eyebrow. I noticed his S.O.S. pad hairdo.
Then I noticed Harry.
His folded hands looked like an air drill hammering on his desk.
“Are you afraid?” I asked.
Harry shot me a look. “Me? Afraid? Come on!”
Then he whispered, “Make that five minutes in the Dungeon. Tell the teacher at 9:05.”
I looked at the clock. It was 8:58.
“Okay, Harry,” I whispered back.
It would be easier to tell on Song Lee if she wasn’t there.
“Boys and girls,” Miss Mackle said. “This is Mr. Kookhammer.”
“Skooghammer,” he corrected.
Everyone laughed except Harry.
Miss Mackle continued, “Mr. Skooghammer will unfortunately be taking Harry down to the Suspension Room for the whole day. I look forward to seeing Harry tomorrow, when he will have a better attitude.”
Mary folded her arms. “I knew Harry would be the first one to go from our room.”
Mr. Skooghammer pulled on his red beard as he waited at the door. He didn’t have his black bag with him. It was probably in the Dungeon.
Harry got up. He walked down the aisle like he was walking to his execution.
Slowly
Carefully.
Miss Mackle handed him a pile of work. “I expect this to be done by three, Harry”
Harry raised his head as if to say “yes” like a tough guy.
Then he dropped the books and papers. Ida got out of her seat and helped him pick them up.
Finally, Harry was at the doorway with his stuff. He was about two feet shorter than Skooghammer.
When Harry turned and gave me one last look, he held up five fingers. I felt so bad. My buddy was innocent. He was going to the Dungeon for a crime he didn’t do.
And for what?
A big black bag that bulged?
I didn’t think Harry cared about it anymore.
Trapped
At 9:01, the Bean Broadcast came on. Mr. Cardini read the names of the good Human Beans over the intercom.
When he mentioned Room 2B, everyone listened for their own name.
“Mary Berg for clearing off her lunch table without being asked.
“Ida Burrell for helping other people with their fraction math.
“Sidney La Fleur and Song Lee Park for sharing their lunches with someone who left his at home.”
Sidney blurted out, “I gave him a giant oatmeal cookie, a carrot slice, and—”
“Shhhh!” Miss Mackle shushed.
“Doug Hurtuk ...”
When I heard my name, I leaned forward.
“... for being a good sport when his kickball team lost. He was the first to get in line and shake hands.”
I automatically looked over at Harry’s seat. He would have given me a high five. But his seat was empty.
I looked at the clock.
It was 9:07!
The Bean Broadcast was still going on.
Poor Harry. He was too brave to cry, but I pictured him crying. Skooghammer was probably chaining him to his desk by now.
I kept waiting for the broadcast to end.
Finally, at 9:11, Mr. Cardini finished, and I jumped out of my seat to speak with Miss Mackle privately.
“Please sit down, Doug,” Miss Mackle said. “I have some important news.”
It took five minutes for the teacher to talk about our science clubs, about how the newspaper article would be in the paper tomorrow morning, and about how important it was for us to return all our library books.
9:21.
Harry was probably dying.
I was desperate. I had to see him. I raised two fingers to go to the bathroom.
Miss Mackle nodded. So I took off.
“Walk, please!” Mr. Cardini boomed when I dashed by his office.
I slowed down.
As soon as I got to the boys’ bathroom, I looked around. No one was there. I looked down into the gym. It was empty.
As I hurried down the stairs into the gym, I could see the old music room door propped open.
There it was.
; The Dungeon.
I tiptoed as I got closer. I couldn’t peek in, because Skooghammer might see me, but I could listen.
Eavesdrop.
I got as close to the Dungeon door as possible, and waited.
I only heard one voice.
Skooghammer’s.
“It’s sharp. It could prick you,” he said.
I took a step back.
It was the mace.
He was probably going to use it on Harry and those two fifth-grade boys.
I raced back through the gym, and up the stairs. I made up my mind to tell the teacher. Now!
When I got to Room 2B, Song Lee and Mrs. Park were talking to Miss Mackle.
Oh no! I thought.
Song Lee was back.
I watched from my seat as they talked. Maybe ... maybe Song Lee was confessing.
I waited.
I looked at the clock. 9:44.
Finally, Mrs. Park left, and Song Lee sat down.
When Miss Mackle started reading Bartholomew and the Oobleck, I knew I had to do it.
Myself.
Tell the truth about Song Lee.
And spring Harry.
When I raised my hand, Miss Mackle shook her head. She hates to be interrupted during a read-aloud.
And so it was almost 10:30 before I got my big chance.
“Miss Mackle,” I said.
“Yes, Doug?”
“I have something to say about what happened yesterday with the butterflies.”
Everyone looked at me.
Song Lee did, too.
Her eyes were watering.
“Eh...”
“Yes?”
“Song Lee ...” There, I thought. I got her name out.
“Yes?”
Song Lee put her head down on her desk.
“Song Lee ... gave the butterflies ... some sugar water.”
“I know. She was my helper yesterday. They needed sweet water to grow stronger. We’ll probably let them go at recess today.”
When the class groaned, Miss Mackle added, “Freedom is important. Our butterflies are entitled to it. Do you know they have never seen a real tree? Or the sky, or grass?”
Freedom.
Harry was chained to his desk.
Maybe his fingers were bleeding again from that mace.
I had just sentenced my best friend to a day in the Dungeon.
As I watched the butterflies zigzag through the air in their net cage, I thought of Harry.
He was just like those painted ladies.
He was trapped, too.
Freedom!
It was hard for me to concentrate on my schoolwork. I kept worrying about Harry.
He probably hated me.
I had let him down.
I couldn’t tattle on Song Lee. I never tattle on a friend.
“I saw Harry and those two fifth-grade boys,” Mary said at our lunch table.
“They were walking in a straight line with their lunch trays. They didn’t say boo. They just followed that Mr. Skooghammer to the Suspension Room.”
“How was Harry?” Song Lee asked. She wasn’t eating much of her lunch.
“I didn’t see his face, but his head was down.”
Sidney crunched on a carrot slice. “Did he have a ball and chain tied to his feet?”
“No, Sidney,” Mary groaned.
“Did Mr. Skooghammer have a whip?” I asked.
Mary made a face. “This is the nineties. You’re talking about the Middle Ages and dungeons.”
I picked at my beans with a fork, then set it down. I wasn’t hungry.
Song Lee wasn’t either. Her taco was still untouched.
That afternoon when we went out for recess, Miss Mackle carried the huge yellow net cage. We huddled around her when she stopped on the grass near a lilac bush.
“Okay, here we go. Keep your eye on our five painted ladies.”
Everyone watched Miss Mackle open the net cage.
“There goes one!” Sidney shouted. “Up there in the tree.”
“There’s one on the lilac bush!” Ida said.
“Look!” Dexter pointed. “Two are flitting in the air. Now they’re resting on the top branch of that tree.”
Everyone clapped and cheered. Then they ran to the kickball diamond.
I sat down on the grass. I didn’t feel like playing.
When we returned to the classroom, Miss Mackle didn’t bother hanging the net cage up again.
“Wait,” I said. “There’s still one in there. Look!”
Miss Mackle stood on a chair as she put the net cage back up. One butterfly was resting on a carnation.
“It’s the handicapped one!” Sydney shouted.
“The one Harry touched!” Mary snapped.
Suddenly, Song Lee stood up.
Everyone could tell she was going to cry. “I touch butterfly wing, not Harry. Harry take the blame for me.”
The class gasped.
Miss Mackle walked over to Song Lee’s desk and crouched down.
She looked right at Song Lee. “I’m glad you told me.”
Song Lee covered her eyes and cried. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“It really wasn’t her fault,” I said. “She wasn’t here when you made that announcement about not touching the wings.”
“I know,” Miss Mackle said. “Song Lee is always gentle with living things. And ... she tells the truth.”
This time, I thought, it just happened to be twenty-four hours later.
Everyone watched the teacher go to her desk and write a note.
“Please take this down to the Suspension Room, Doug, and bring Harry back.”
“Yes!” I shouted. And I flew out the door.
This time Mr. Cardini didn’t see me, so I kept running.
When I got downstairs to the gym, I could see that the Suspension Room door was closed.
I hurried by the kids taking turns walking on the balance beam.
Then I stopped at the far door and knocked.
Mr. Skooghammer answered, read the note, and let me in.
I took a quick look around.
One small room.
With no windows.
Just gray walls.
And a cement floor.
Signs said:
NO TALKING.
YOU MUST STAY IN YOUR SEAT AT ALL TIMES.
ONE BATHROOM BREAK IN THE MORNING AND IN THE AFTERNOON ONLY.
LUNCH WILL BE EATEN IN THIS ROOM. SILENTLY.
All those signs gave me the shivers!
Three boys were sitting at desks facing different walls.
Harry was one of them.
“Well, Harry,” Mr. Skooghammer said. “You’re free to go back to your class now.”
When I looked at Harry, I expected a big smile and a high five.
But there was just a frown.
“Can’t I stay until the bell, Mr. Skooghammer?” he asked. “Please?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Harry wanted to stay in this Dungeon!
“Look, Doug,” Harry said. “I understand hard math now. We counted the spirals on a pineapple and on pine cones.”
So that’s what was prickly in Mr. Skooghammer’s black bag! I thought.
“Mr. Skooghammer is studying to be a math teacher. He showed us all kinds of neat things. Did you know daisies usually have 21 or 34 petals? It’s called the Fibonacci Sequence.”
I looked at all the stuff on the table in the middle of the room. They sure did a lot of math.
“Mr. Skooghammer said we could play Catch-the-Stars at the end of the day because no one fooled around, and we all got our work done.”
I noticed Mr. Skooghammer had a beanbag with stars on it in his hand.
I couldn’t believe it.
Who else could have fun doing math in a dungeon but Harry!
He always did like horrible things.
When I got back to class, I handed Miss Mackle another note.
“He’s staying until the bell
?” Miss Mackle asked.
I nodded.
Then I looked at Song Lee. “Don’t worry about Harry. He’s fine.”
Song Lee had the biggest smile. “Our handicapped butterfly is fine, too. He flew out window! He was just not ready for freedom yet.”
I smiled.
Neither was Harry.
