by Susan Tan
That night, after my parents finished reading to me and kissed me good night, I opened my copy of Selena Moon. I looked hard at the pages and I decided to MAKE them make sense to me. But all I saw were letters, and I knew there were rules about the sounds they made, but I couldn’t remember what they were. And this made me sad again, but it also made me angry, and I threw my book—my Selena Moon!—away from me. It hit the ground with a loud thud, and I felt TERRIBLE, and I rushed out of bed to make sure it was okay.
This is where my parents found me, because Selena made a lot of noise. My dad picked me up, and carried me back to bed, and sat with me until I stopped crying. And when he asked me what was the matter, I told him that I would never be an author. Because how can you be destined for literary greatness, or ANYTHING great at all, when you can’t even read your favorite book?
It didn’t help that as first grade went on, I had to go to a special reading class with Ms. Brown every Tuesday and Thursday, while the rest of the class had reading and snack time. My parents said it would be fun, and that there was nothing wrong with seeing Ms. Brown, and maybe I’d meet some new people and make new friends. But this wasn’t helpful, because I wanted to have fun with Colleen and the friends I already had, the friends who could read. And if there was nothing wrong with it, then why did we have to leave class while everyone else stayed behind and did fun projects?
Besides, there was only one other student from Mr. Ogden’s class who had to go to Ms. Brown’s class too, and I already knew that we were NOT going to be friends. This was because he was an Annoying Individual.
A VERY Annoying Individual.
And his name was Ben McGee.
Here are a few things you should know about Ben McGee, which I noticed during those first weeks of Ms. Brown’s class:
1. He was definitely not shy. He always talked to the other kids at the table, even though he didn’t know them, and even though he was new in school (new kids are always supposed to be quiet and scared—this is a rule).
2. He was very curious, and was always asking questions like “Is your refrigerator running?” and “Why?” and “What’s up, Silly Lee?” (The answer to that is “nothing” because “Silly Lee” is NOT my name.)
3. He had a hard time concentrating on work too, which is how he sometimes noticed me watching him, and then he would ask me questions (see above). Or he’d make faces. (Which were usually NOT funny. Though sometimes I’d laugh, because I couldn’t help it, and then we’d get in trouble.)
4. He knew all about the San Diego Zoo and talked about zoo animals ALL THE TIME, because his family had taken a trip there. And he said that manatees were boring, even though I love manatees, even though I’ve never seen one, because on the day he was there the manatee just sat in its tank.
5. He didn’t drink his juice at snack time. So I drank it for him.
6. He smelled. Somehow, I knew this. It was in the way he moved.
But the really, really important thing you should know about Ben McGee isn’t something you can see right away. I didn’t see it at first either. Until one day, when I was getting ready to leave for Ms. Brown’s class.
We were all getting our snacks from our cubbies, and from across the room, I heard Colleen and a few other kids laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, walking over to them.
“We’re writing stories in reading today,” Tim #1 said. “And Sasha had a great idea for one.”
“Oh,” I said. “Will you tell—”
But just then Ms. Brown came, and I had to go.
“Have a good time, Cilla.” Colleen waved. “I’ll miss you.”
That was nice to hear. But then I saw her bounce over to her group, and they all had smiles and laughed again about a story that wasn’t mine—a story that everyone would get to read.
And I despaired.
Only, when we got to reading, Ben McGee wouldn’t let me despair in peace, which was frustrating. We were using little squares with letters on them to make words, which was actually fun, even though I was trying hard not to enjoy myself.
“Hey,” he whispered as I sat playing with my squares. “Silly Lee.”
“My name is NOT Silly Lee,” I said, forgetting to ignore him.
“Oh, right. Silly Lee-Jenkins.” He grinned.
“You are SO annoying, Ben McGee.” I sighed. “Also, that’s not original at all.” Being original is very important to me.
“Don’t care,” he said, which I knew he’d say because he’s unoriginal, plus that’s what he always says when I accuse him of being unoriginal, which is all the time.
“So,” he said after another minute, even though I was CLEARLY trying to get back to my game. “Whatcha doing?”
“Nothing,” I said, taking a deep breath and trying to sound quiet, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when things are Tragic. “Just being sad.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because,” I said.
“Because why?”
“Why do you ask SO many questions?” I huffed.
“I dunno,” he said. “Just because.”
I shook my head and went back to my tiles.
“Is it because everyone else gets to write stories today?” he asked, after a minute.
I looked at him, surprised.
“I figured that was it,” he went on, “since you’re a GIANT book nerd and all.”
“You are a pain, Ben McGee,” I said hotly, glaring at him.
“I’m just saying what you are,” he said. “Besides, everyone knows that your story would’ve been the best, if you’d been able to write one too. So you don’t have to get mad—being a book nerd isn’t a bad thing.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re a funny boy, Ben McGee,” I said, finally.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I know. My mom says that too. She says she doesn’t know where I get it from, and it must be my dad’s side of the family. But Dad says he doesn’t know where I get it from either. He says I might as well have dropped in from outer space. So it’s a mystery.”
And suddenly, everything changed.
* * *
When I went back to class that day, I ran up to Colleen.
“Colleen,” I said. “You’ll never guess what happened in reading.”
“What?” Colleen asked.
“I found out the most AMAZING thing about Ben McGee,” I said. “Ben McGee”—I paused to add drama—“Ben McGee is … an alien.”
“What?!”
“An alien,” I confirmed. “It all makes sense now.”
But just then Mr. Ogden told us to sit down for math, and then Marcy Thompson wanted to sit with us at lunch and wouldn’t leave us alone at recess either. In writing, a delay like this is called Suspense, and it’s a good thing to have, but in real life it’s just called “annoying,” especially when Marcy Thompson is involved.
Luckily, Colleen and I got a seat on the bus all to ourselves that afternoon, so I could explain everything.
“You see,” I said, picking up where I’d left off, because you can do that with a best friend, “it all makes sense now. He only came to our school in first grade, and his own mother doesn’t know where he comes from, and his dad says he’s from outer space. Ben McGee is an alien, sent here to gather information about us for his people.”
“But why elementary school?” Colleen asked. “Why would he come to Mr. Ogden’s class if he wanted to learn about humans? Wouldn’t he go somewhere important, with adults? Like the post office.”
“Or the gas station,” I added, realizing she was right. “Unless … That’s it! Unless he made a mistake! Unless he didn’t know what humans look like, and when he came here, he got confused and didn’t take on the right kind of disguise.”
Colleen was with me now.
“He’s super good at math,” she said, leaning in excitedly.
“He knew all the answers in our lesson on animals that live in the desert today,” I added.
“He doesn
’t know that new students are supposed to be shy and scared.”
“The way he loves animals and talks about the zoo ALL the time.”
“The way he doesn’t understand how to call people by their names.”
“Ben McGee,” I summed up, “is an alien, sent to Earth to study us. But he accidentally landed in the wrong place.”
“The desert,” Colleen specified, “and saw nothing around but desert animals.”
“Camels. Which explains why he never drinks his juice.”
“Yes,” Colleen said, bouncing up and down. “He thought the camels were people, so he turned into one, and only realized his mistake when actual humans came and took him to the zoo.”
“And he had to live there until he could escape without being seen, when someone—”
“Mrs. McGee!”
“Yes, Mrs. McGee came too close to the camel cage!”
“And now he’s disguised as her son!” Colleen concluded, throwing her hands out wide in excitement.
“His real alien-face lurking behind the human face of the first grader known as Ben McGee”—I threw my hands out too—“waiting to bring information about us back to his people!”
“That,” Colleen said, slumping back in her seat, “is the BEST story I’ve heard all year.”
9
FIRST GRADE, PART II. MORE ALIENS, AND HALLOWEEN
I enjoyed first grade a little more after that day with Alien-Face McGee. And I was having more fun in reading, because the games we played were great, and Ms. Brown said my reading was improving in something called “leaps and bounds.” But I still wanted to read Selena Moon more than ANYTHING in the world.
So it was VERY important to me that everything was perfect for one of my favorite holidays of all time—Halloween.
Halloween is very special to me. It’s all about imagination, after all. I always make my costume, and my mom and dad help, though sometimes they say my costumes need to be something called “actually possible to create.” (Like the year I wanted to be a sarcophagus. Though to be fair, my dad didn’t say “no” right away. He said, “Hmmm,” when I told him about it. But then my mom said, “Nathan,” and my dad said, “We have a lot of plywood,” and Mom said, “Absolutely not,” and Dad said, “We could put it on wheels,” and Mom said, “Nathan, please,” with her eyebrows raised and a Parent Look in my direction. So I was a dinosaur princess instead.)
I’m also not allowed to start my Halloween costume until September 1, because apparently my parents don’t appreciate it when I start making costume sketches in January. But that still gives me LOTS of time to find a costume, and that year in first grade, Colleen and I knew exactly what we wanted to be. We were going to be—who else?—Selena and Colin, from Selena Moon, because they were our favorite characters.
Our plans were going perfectly, too. Until, one day, on the playground, when Colleen had just told me that her dad had an old purple suit jacket that she could wear for her Colin costume, and that her mom had an old cane that I could use for Selena’s staff. We were both excited about this news, and jumping up and down, which made the beads Colleen sometimes wears in her hair clack like they were excited too.
“Yay!” I said, because our costumes were going to be the BEST ever.
“Did you say Selena Moon?” a voice cut in. Neither of us had noticed Sasha Simpson standing by us, next to the slides. I didn’t know her very well. Mostly because I was scared to talk to her, because she had lots of friends, and was really good at telling funny jokes, plus her hair always stayed brushed.
“I love Selena Moon!” Sasha exclaimed. “I’m going to be Selena for Halloween too—my mom’s already ordered the Deluxe Costume Pack online. It even comes with a temporary sun tattoo, just like Selena’s.”
“You…” I looked at Sasha, surprised. “You like Selena Moon?”
“Yeah, that movie was soooooooo cool. Everyone’s going to be someone from Selena Moon this year—Connor’s already ordered his Colin costume, which looks just like the one from the movie. It even has the green jacket. We’ll all match!”
“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this.
“That’s nice…,” Colleen said, hesitating.
“What, you guys haven’t seen it?” Sasha said.
“No, we saw it,” Colleen said. “And it was okay, but they got a few things wrong. Like Colin’s jacket is purple, not green.”
“And they cut out some really exciting parts,” I said quietly, trying to help Colleen. “Like the story with Selena’s mom.”
“Oh, I haven’t read the books.” Sasha laughed. “But I’m a total Selena fan! You two don’t like the movie?” She looked confused.
“I did…” I wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s just that it was a book first, before a movie,” I tried to explain. “And the books are … well, books. And the story is so much more exciting when it’s in your head.”
“I guess.” Sasha shrugged. “But between you, me, Erica, Liz, and Sally, we’ll have a classroom full of Selenas, and then Colleen, Connor, and the two Tims as Colin. You guys had better order your costumes before they all sell out!” And then she skipped away, back to her friends on the slide, singing, “We’re all going to match on Halloween, this will be so cool.”
Colleen and I watched her go, and I saw Colleen’s shoulders droop. Suddenly, my brilliant Halloween costume plan didn’t seem so great anymore.
* * *
That night, I was quiet and distracted. In fact, I was in a state of general artistic despair, and so not paying attention to anything, which my parents realized right around the time my mom mentioned dessert and I didn’t even notice.
“Cilla,” my mom said, putting down her fork and speaking in her concerned voice. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I mumbled finally.
“What’s wrong?” my dad said, putting his fork down, in his concerned voice. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes,” I said, putting down my fork, because it seemed to be the thing to do. “Colleen and I were going to be Selena Moon characters for Halloween, but…” I told them about Sasha and all the other kids, and how this meant that everyone would think that Colleen and I were just regular Selena Moon movie fans, instead of special book fans, and everything was AWFUL.
“Um, well, I’m sorry, Cilla,” my dad said. “Maybe we can make you a different costume from Selena Moon, so you don’t look like everyone else.”
“No,” I said. “It won’t be the same. No costume is as good as the real-life book Selena (not the imaginary movie kind). And all the other characters are taken too. I bet even Alien-Face McGee is going to dress up as someone from the Selena Moon movie—”
“Priscilla Lee-Jenkins.” My mom cut me off, and not in a Changing the Subject kind of way. I could tell she was Not Happy. “What have I told you about calling people names?”
“It’s not a mean name, plus I haven’t actually called him that,” I pointed out reasonably. “It’s just a story I made up.”
“Cilla.” My mom sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. “It might be just a story to you, but you still can’t call people names.”
“But the creature calling itself Ben McGee—” I began. Mom glared. “Ben McGee,” I corrected myself, “calls me names too. He calls me Silly Lee-Jenkins and a GIANT book nerd—” I stopped short.
“Well, you’re right,” my mom admitted. “It’s not nice of him to say those things. But that doesn’t mean…” She went on.
But I wasn’t listening anymore.
Suddenly, I’d had an idea.
* * *
On Halloween, my favorite night of the year, the moon was full and round, and the sky was dark with wisps of black clouds at its edges. The leaves were crispy and red, and the jack-o’-lanterns on our neighbors’ porches shone yellow and orange in the dark. This was perfect for creating Mood and Atmosphere, which are both very important in stories. It felt like Halloween, but without being too scary, which is als
o very important in my opinion.
I’d promised my mom that I wouldn’t call Alien-Face McGee names, or tell anyone at school my story about him, and I’d mostly kept that promise. I only talked about it with Colleen, who already knew, and maybe Sally. And Colleen had thought it was such a good story that she’d told Valerie. And Tim #2. And #1. But that’s it.
One thing I’d definitely not told anyone about, though, was my Halloween costume. Colleen and I had made a solemn pinky-swear-promise not to say what we were going to be.
On Halloween, my street was full of kids in costumes. There were some witches and ghosts, but mostly, there were Selenas and Colins. Colleen and I walked side by side, our parents not too far behind. I was People Watching. So it didn’t take me long to spot Sasha, Connor, the Tims, and a whole group of kids from Mr. Ogden’s first-grade class, all trick-or-treating. Colleen and I smiled at each other nervously, and then began to wave.
Sasha and Connor and the Tims, all in the costumes their moms had bought them, saw us. Each of us wore a giant cardboard box, which my dad had helped us cut so there was one big hole at the top for our heads, and two small holes at the sides for our arms. On the front, back, and each side were exact copies of the cover and spine of Selena Moon and the Moonstone for me, and Selena Moon and the Prophecy of the Waxing Crescent for Colleen, which we had spent the entire month of October painting in my garage, with my parents helping us with the writing parts. Because we were the Selena Moon books for Halloween.
“Whoa,” Sasha said. “You guys look amazing!”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling. Sasha was wearing her Selena Moon Deluxe Costume Pack, but I noticed that she’d added to it too, with a belt that was painted with glitter glue and had all the star and moon symbols that were on Selena’s real belt, in the book and in the movie. And I realized that Sasha was really and truly a Selena Moon fan too. (Though nothing can ever be quite as good as the Selena Moon books. They’re bestsellers, after all.)
“You look great too, Selena,” I said, which made Sasha smile even wider.
“That must have taken forever,” Connor said, examining Colleen’s costume.
