The Worst Mascot Ever

by James Preller

  “Are those friends of yours?” Principal Tuxbury asked Suri.

  She said they were. “I asked them to come.”

  “Good,” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “You’ve made your point. Now could you please ask them to go away? It’s been a long day.”

  — CHAPTER 9 —

  The Campaign

  Across the school, the election made big news.

  On Monday morning, Rosa Morales and thick-necked Otis Smick stood at the front doors. They handed out flyers and greeted incoming students with the words “Vote for Arnold!”

  Lizzy folded her arms and refused to take a flyer. Instead she smiled tightly and said, “No thanks. Save a tree.”

  In the main lobby, Suri was hanging a large wall poster. It looked terrific, with big, fat letters and a photo of an armadillo on the right side. Students lingered admiringly. The excitement over the big vote was building.

  Lizzy and Connor stopped to read it.

  A.A.A.A.

  Armadillos

  Are

  Actually

  Awesome!

  VOTE FOR ARNOLD!

  When Suri noticed her rivals gaping at the poster, she smirked. “Oh, hi, Lizzy. Hi, Connor. I hope you don’t mind that I took the best spot. Your team doesn’t seem to have any posters yet anyway, do you?”

  Lizzy grumbled a low growl, like a cornered animal. When she turned to leave, Suri called out, “Remember, the election is only three days away!”

  “She’s pretty serious about this,” Connor said.

  Lizzy stormed down the hall, feet clomping noisily. Cheeks red, teeth gritted. She stopped suddenly to stare at a flyer taped to the wall. It showed a photo of Arnold from last year’s assembly. The giant plush armadillo stood on the stage with both arms raised in triumph. Underneath it read EVERYBODY LOVES ARNOLD!

  “Grrrrr,” Lizzy growled.

  Once inside the classroom, Lizzy flung her backpack into the cubby. Whomp, thump, crash. She plopped into her chair.

  Kym sat across from her at the table, afraid to speak.

  Finally Lizzy said, “My house. After school. Tell the gang.”

  Kym smiled to herself. “Good,” she said.

  “And tell them to bring art supplies,” Lizzy said. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “I’ll say. But we’ll need more than art projects to win the election,” Kym said. “We have to get ready for the big assembly on Thursday morning. Somebody has to give a speech in front of the entire school.”

  At Connor and Lizzy’s house, the gang sat around a large dining room table. It was strewn with white posterboard, crayons, markers, scissors, glitter, and puddles of glue.

  Padma Bitar had joined them. Padma was busy drawing different pictures of Drake the Dragon on the posters. A billow of fire came from his mouth. “That’s lit,” Deon said approvingly. “You are killin’ it, Padma.”

  Padma looked up at Deon. “Seriously? You like it?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Deon said. “But can you draw it, like, I don’t know, with the fire cooking an armadillo?”

  “That would be so great,” Connor said.

  “No,” Kym interrupted. “That would be sooooo not great. Don’t listen to them, Padma.”

  Meanwhile, Lizzy sat scribbling in her notebook. She looked up and said, “Guys, I’m trying to think here.”

  “Why start now?” Connor joked.

  “Funny,” Lizzy said, scrunching her nose. “I still don’t know why I’m the one who has to give the speech.”

  “Because we elected you,” Connor said.

  “Elected me? When did that happen?” Lizzy asked.

  Connor looked from Deon to Kym to Padma. “Everybody who thinks Lizzy should be the one to give the big speech, raise your hand.”

  Five hands shot to the ceiling. (Deon raised both.)

  Lizzy groaned. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You’ll think of something,” Connor said.

  Lizzy wasn’t so sure.

  “Just stand up and tell everybody what’s what,” Deon said.

  “Sure, okay, I’ll just, you know—” Lizzy paused, looking to her friends for help. “And I’ll say that—​and then, um . . .”

  “Her ears are twitching,” Connor noticed.

  Padma giggled.

  Lizzy’s cheeks flushed red. She banged her hand on the table. Markers jumped in the air. “I’m telling you. I can’t do it.”

  “Sure you can,” Connor said.

  “You’ll be great,” Kym added.

  Lizzy put on a brave face.

  But deep down, she was terrified.

  — CHAPTER 10 —

  Lizzy Gets a Little Help

  It was decided.

  Lizzy was the best choice. Everyone knew it. Even Lizzy herself. This idea had started with her. She had to be the one to stand before the entire school.

  Whether she liked it or not.

  On Wednesday, one day before the presentations, Miss Zips checked in with the gang. They were huddled on the rug, including Padma.

  “Are you all set with your speech for tomorrow?” Miss Zips asked.

  “It’s really good,” Kym said. She smiled in Lizzy’s direction.

  Lizzy swallowed, unconvinced.

  Miss Zips sat down on the rug, her long legs folding like a lawn chair. She said to Lizzy, “You have your claim—​your big idea, right?”

  Lizzy nodded.

  “And you’ve done your research to support that claim?” She looked to the others for encouragement.

  “Oh yes,” Kym said.

  “Padma had a great idea,” Deon said. “We can use her art to make a new dragon logo for the school. We can probably sell T-shirts and coffee mugs and other stuff.”

  “We can raise money for charity,” Padma said.

  “I like that very much,” Miss Zips said. “That should be very appealing to the rest of the school. Don’t you think, Lizzy?”

  Lizzy nodded again. But she stayed quiet. She was like an empty home. People could ring and ring, but she wouldn’t answer the door.

  “It’s important to hook the listeners right away,” Miss Zips reminded Lizzy. “Do you have an attention grabber?”

  Lizzy sat perfectly still. Eyes downcast, she shook her head once. In truth, Lizzy felt dizzy in her stomach. As if a hundred caterpillars, with their ticklish toes, crawled around inside her belly. It was her job to persuade the entire school. Just thinking about it made her want to hurl.

  “She’ll do great!” Deon said.

  He clapped Lizzy on the back.

  “Yeah,” Kym agreed.

  Everyone brimmed with hope. But Lizzy remained silent. Her speech was almost ready. She had a big idea. She had three main reasons, supported by facts. And she had a strong ending. But Lizzy was missing one thing. She didn’t have a snazzy opener.

  And time was slipping away.

  On the way to lunch, students paused outside the cafeteria. Connor stared at yet another armadillo poster, frowning. “I just don’t get it. Padma’s dragon is so much cooler.”

  “What’s to get?” Lizzy snapped. “Some people love armadillos.”

  “Seriously?” Connor asked.

  “Well, obviously!” Lizzy barked.

  Lizzy nudged past her brother, pushed past everyone. She clomped into the cafeteria as if she had an important meeting with a cardboard tray of spaghetti and meatballs.

  “What’s with your sister?” Deon asked.

  “She gets like this when she’s nervous,” Connor replied.

  “No worries,” Deon said. “She’ll knock it out of the park.”

  “I guess,” Connor said. He folded his arms across his soccer jersey. Connor didn’t seem convinced.

  Neither was Lizzy.

  She was scared.

  Lizzy thought and thought. But no ideas came. Her speech needed something extra. How was she going to rally the students behind Drake the Dragon?

  During lunch, Connor left his seat with the boys.
He sat beside his sister. “You okay?” he asked.

  Lizzy looked up at her twin, surprised. She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. A shrug.

  “I feel like I might throw up,” she confessed.

  “Not a good idea,” Connor said. “But if you do, find a garbage can. Learn from my mistakes.”

  Lizzy smiled. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “I was thinking about how you said you need a catchy beginning,” Connor said.

  “An attention grabber,” Lizzy said. “Do you have one?”

  “Um, not a clue.” Connor grinned. He paused, then asked, “Do you remember how Miss Zips said ideas are like seeds?”

  Yes, Lizzy nodded.

  Connor said, “Seeds need water, light, and soil to grow. But ideas are different. They need hard work and time. Your idea will come. Just give it time.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “That’s the problem, Connor. I’m running out of time.”

  Connor placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone, Lizzy, but you’re my best friend in the world. And I’m here to say, I know you’ve got this.”

  Lizzy looked down. Something in her heart stirred. Her mood lightened. Lizzy slid over a plastic container of three small chocolate chip cookies. “You can have them. I’m full.”

  To Connor, it was better than a hug.

  Lizzy thought, maybe ideas really were like seeds. Yes, they needed hard work and time. But maybe, Lizzy decided, ideas needed friendship, too.

  Maybe friendship was the soil.

  She was happy to share her cookies with Connor.

  And in that moment, as her wild twin scarfed down his third cookie, the idea came.

  — CHAPTER 11 —

  Imagine

  The entire school squeezed into the cafetorium. That’s what they called the cafeteria after lunch. It was basically an auditorium that smelled bad. The floor had been swept, the tables cleared away.

  All the students, K through five, sat on the floor. Lizzy waited by a side entrance, as instructed. Connor, Deon, and Kym waited with her. Partly to show their support. Partly because they were worried she might flee the building.

  A fifth-grade teacher, Mr. Alvarez, poked his head into the hallway. “Are you all set, Lizzy? We should be ready to begin in just another minute.”

  Lizzy gulped and checked the index cards in her hand, and her ears twitched.

  “Don’t worry,” Kym said.

  “You’ll do great,” Deon said.

  “And don’t hurl,” Connor joked.

  “You’re gross,” Kym said. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Yeah, a few times,” Connor said, smiling. He didn’t seem to mind.

  Lizzy shook her head, laughing.

  Mr. Alvarez nodded to Lizzy, and she took her seat on the stage beside Suri. Principal Tuxbury walked to the podium. He made a few opening remarks. He called Suri forward. As Suri stood up, Lizzy leaned over to squeeze her hand. “Good luck,” Lizzy said.

  Suri smiled. “Thanks, that’s sweet. You too.”

  Suri spoke in a calm, clear voice. She seemed a little jittery, but not too bad. Suri spoke about affection for Arnold, how unique an armadillo mascot is, and the importance of tradition. The students applauded enthusiastically.

  Now it was Lizzy’s turn.

  Lizzy cleared her throat.

  She looked out into the sea of faces, the way Miss Zips had told her to.

  Seconds crawled past.

  “You can start anytime,” Principal Tuxbury whispered. “We’re all ears.”

  Lizzy leaned into the microphone. It buzzed. She tried again.

  “Close your eyes,” she said in a soft voice.

  The audience shifted on the floor, uncertain. Until one by one, they sat in silence, eyes shut.

  Waiting.

  Lizzy said, “Now remember all the happy days you’ve spent as a kid, watching armadillos play outside your window.”

  Lizzy paused.

  One set of eyes opened. Then another.

  “You don’t remember, do you?” Lizzy said. “Me neither.”

  Lizzy forced a laugh from her throat. “The truth is, there aren’t any armadillos in Connecticut. Never were.”

  Some of the kids laughed. Others just smiled. It didn’t matter. From that moment on, Lizzy had them in the palm of her hand.

  “Suri is right. Arnold has been a good mascot for Clay Elementary,” Lizzy said. “He’s been around for a long time. For years and years and years.” Lizzy allowed her voice to drag here, sounding tired. Then she brightened. “But now we have a chance for something fresh, something new.”

  Lizzy looked out into the audience. “Tradition is nice. But things change. We can’t let tradition keep us from getting better. Tradition can become a trap. We become chained to old ideas.”

  “Here’s another tradition to consider—​the tradition of change. We’ve done our research. Many schools and even professional teams have changed their mascots over the years. For example, the Adams State Grizzlies used to be the Indians. At Arizona State, they went from the Owls to the Bulldogs to the Sun Devils. Right here in Connecticut, we love our Huskies. But did you know they used to be called the Statesmen?”

  A few snickers filled the room. Lizzy raised a hand. “There are hundreds of hilarious examples. Everyone knows Mr. Met, the famous mascot for the New York Mets. But not many people remember that they once had a mule for a mascot. A mule named Mettle.” Lizzy smiled at the audience. “It was a really, really bad idea.”

  “It is our school, our vote, our voice. It should be our idea. With your vote today, we can start our own tradition at Clay Elementary. We can make our own mark on the future.”

  Lizzy told the gathered students about Padma’s idea for raising money. “Drake the Dragon will create new excitement. We’ll sell T-shirts and banners. We’ll raise money—​and we’ll use that money to improve our amazing school.”

  This earned a big roar from the audience.

  “What’s more,” Lizzy said, her voice strong and confident, “let’s get real. Let’s be honest here. Dragons are fierce. Dragons are magical. Dragons are cool. Imagine a battle between an armadillo and a dragon. Seriously? I don’t have to tell you who would win that one.”

  She paused, leaned into the microphone, and whispered, “Roasted, toasted armadillo. Every time.”

  More laughter filled the room.

  “One last thing before we all vote,” Lizzy said. “My parents always told me to be myself. ‘Lizzy, be yourself,’ they’d say. But then my father would add with a wink, ‘Unless you can be a dragon. Then always be a dragon.’”

  Lizzy caught Connor’s eye in the crowd. He nodded, a big grin on his face.

  “Let’s do it, Clay Elementary,” Lizzy said. “Let’s all be Dragons together!”

  The room went wild. Connor, Kym, and Deon leaped to their feet, shouting and cheering.

  Lizzy should have felt thrilled. But mostly, after it was over, she just felt . . . glad it was over. Relieved she didn’t hurl in front of the entire school.

  The only thing left was the vote.

  And the waiting.

  The winner would be announced at the end of the day.

  Miss Zips surprised the class with a small party of cookies, brownies, and drinks. “Today has been a great day for Clay Elementary,” Miss Zips said. “It doesn’t matter which side wins. The important thing is that you all voted. I hope you liked that feeling. It’s a privilege. And I hope you vote many, many times in the future.”

  The class cheered.

  Bobby Mumford spilled a cup of juice.

  Because of course he did. That’s how Bobby rolled. Mr. Sanders hustled to help clean up the mess with paper towels. “No worries, good thing it’s not on the rug,” he said cheerfully.

  Bobby smiled and filled a new cup.

  “You did good today,” Suri said to Lizzy. “I thought your speech was really great.”

  “Thanks,” Lizzy said. “So
was yours.”

  “I was really nervous,” Suri confessed.

  “Huh? It didn’t look that way,” Lizzy said. “You looked large and in charge.”

  Suri smiled. “Yes, sure, for someone who wanted to throw up!”

  Lizzy laughed. “You too? I guess we both felt that way.”

  Then a voice came from the loudspeaker. “Good afternoon, Clay Elementary!” Principal Tuxbury announced.

  “I’m sure you are all eager to learn the results of today’s vote,” he said. “But first, let’s give one more cheer for our two outstanding candidates—​Arnold the Armadillo and Drake the Dragon!”

  Whoops and shouts echoed throughout the building.

  “Arnold received a total of one hundred and eighty-three votes,” Principal Tuxbury said. “But the winner this year, with three hundred and forty-seven votes, is Drake the Dragon! It looks like Clay Elementary will have a new mascot!”

  — CHAPTER 12 —

  Enter the Dragon

  A month later, there was a surprise assembly in the school cafetorium.

  “What’s this about?” the class asked Miss Zips.

  “You’ll see,” she said.

  When everyone was seated on the floor, the lights were turned down. Miss Zips stepped onto the stage. She spoke into a microphone. “As you remember, we all had a big vote last month on the school mascot.”

  The audience cheered.

  “Today we are officially the Clay Elementary Dragons!”

  The cheers grew into a roar.

  “We’d like to celebrate today with a little surprise.” She held up a finger. “But first, some business. We used the beautiful artwork created by Padma Bitar for the design of new T-shirts. Sales have already been a huge success. Thank you all for supporting your school.”

  Miss Zips pumped both fists into the air. The crowd went bananas. It took a minute for everyone to quiet down. “Good ideas don’t fall from the sky. They come from real people who put in time and energy to make things happen.”