Sing With Me, Lucy McGee

by Mary Amato

  Text copyright © 2019 by Mary Amato

  Art copyright © 2019 by Jessica Meserve

  All Rights Reserved

  HOLIDAY HOUSE is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

  www.holidayhouse.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Amato, Mary, author. | Meserve, Jessica, illustrator.

  Title: Sing with me, Lucy McGee / by Mary Amato; illustrated by Jessica Meserve.

  Description: First edition. | New York: Holiday House, [2019] | Series: Lucy

  McGee; 2 | Summary: A talent contest brings out the worst in Lucy McGee and her fourth-grade classmates—Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018015218 | ISBN 9780823438761 (hardcover)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Behavior—Fiction. | Clubs—Fiction. | Talent shows—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.A49165 Sin 2019 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018015218

  Ebook ISBN 9780823442096

  v5.4

  a

  For the next generation of duckies:

  my grandnieces and grandnephews, Lilyana, Adelyn, Joshua, Jack, Jett, Brooks, Grace, Abby, and new baby Cahill

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Secret Groups and Monkey Troops

  Chapter Two: Go Nuts for Donuts

  Chapter Three: Quack Attack

  Chapter Four: Not Merry or Very Merry?

  Chapter Five: My Sing-Along Song

  Chapter Six: Spies and Lies!

  Chapter Seven: Fight for What’s Right

  Chapter Eight: My Fears and Leo’s Tears

  Chapter Nine: My Slick Trick

  Chapter Ten: Art Room Doom!

  Chapter Eleven: Try Not to Cry

  Chapter Twelve: Hair with Flair

  Chapter Thirteen: Tummy Drama and Head Trauma

  Chapter Fourteen: Tooth Truth

  Chapter Fifteen: Friends Again?

  Chapter Sixteen: Boo! Glue!

  Chapter Seventeen: Home Sweet Home

  Chapter Eighteen: Together Forever

  Chapter Nineteen: Ants in Our Pants

  Chapter Twenty: Cleaning Supplies and a Big Surprise

  Chapter Twenty-One: A Locked Flock!

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Will the Show Go?

  The Songwriting Club Songs

  Excerpt from Lucky Me, Lucy McGee

  My friend Phillip Lee walked up to me with a strange look on his face.

  “Lucy,” he whispered. “We need to spy.”

  We were having indoor recess because of rain, and I was in the Reading Corner of Mrs. Brock’s room. Although the book I was reading about animals was good, there is nothing like the word “spy” to grab your attention.

  “Who are we spying on?” I asked.

  “Scarlett. She’s talking about the talent show,” Phillip said.

  Phillip took my book, and we crept over to the carpet near the cubbies and sat down. We pretended to look at the book, but we were spying. Scarlett and Victoria and Mara were talking on the other side of the cubby wall.

  “Ms. Adamson said the talent show is for fourth and fifth graders only, which means it will be really good,” Scarlett said. “Little kids would make it babyish.”

  “So babyish,” Victoria said.

  “I’m going to write a special song for us,” Scarlett went on. “We’ll be the best in the whole show.”

  “Is our group going to be just the three of us singing?” Mara asked. “Or all the fourth and fifth graders in the Songwriting Club?”

  “Everybody except Lucy and Phillip,” Scarlett said. “Don’t tell them.”

  Phillip and I looked at each other. Scarlett wanted to leave us out?

  “I’m going to write my song today,” Scarlett whispered. “Let’s have a secret group meeting tomorrow at recess to practice.”

  I couldn’t believe it. A secret group without me and Phillip? That hurt.

  Just then, Mrs. Brock walked by. “What are you two doing?” she asked us.

  “Just reading,” I said quickly, looking down at the book.

  The girls stopped talking, and Scarlett peeked out.

  Phillip pointed to the open page. “Mrs. Brock, did you know that a group of monkeys is called a troop, and a group of dolphins is called a pod, and a group of lions is called a pride?”

  “I did,” Mrs. Brock said. “Animal group names are interesting. I’m glad you’re enjoying that book.”

  Our teacher went to her desk, and Phillip and I raced back to the Reading Corner.

  “We’re all in the Songwriting Club together,” I said. “It isn’t fair for Scarlett to leave us out. You’re the one who started the club, Phillip.”

  “I know! And you’re our best songwriter, Lucy,” Phillip said. “The club should sing and play one of your songs at the show.”

  An idea popped into my head. “Let’s try to write a great song,” I said. “We can make it better than Scarlett’s song. When everybody hears our song, they’ll want to sing and play with us for the show.”

  Phillip smiled. “That’s brilliant! We have to make it a catchy song. Everybody loves a catchy song.”

  “Let’s do it right now!”

  My heart started dancing with excitement. If you are wondering what that feels like, just imagine a troop of tiny monkeys having a party inside you.

  The bell rang.

  “Recess is over,” Mrs. Brock said. “Clean up and get ready for math!”

  Math?

  The party was over. It felt like a herd of elephants had stomped in and chased the monkeys away!

  Mrs. Brock started the math lesson with a warm-up word problem. “If a baker uses six cups of flour to make twelve blueberry donuts, twelve chocolate donuts, and twelve plain donuts, how many cups of flour would she need for each flavor? Write your answers down in your math notebook. Remember, drawing a picture can help you solve your problem.”

  I raised my hand and Mrs. Brock came over to my desk.

  “Mrs. Brock,” I whispered. “Can I write a song instead of doing math?”

  “No, Lucy,” she whispered. “We’re all doing math right now.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “If everyone is doing math, then it wouldn’t hurt if one person was writing a song.”

  “You can never have too many people doing math,” she said. “Get to work.”

  Mrs. Brock loves math way too much.

  I drew a picture of twelve plain donuts, twelve chocolate donuts, and twelve blueberry donuts. That’s when it hit me. If a baker can make three different flavors of donuts at the same time, I should be able to do math and write a song at the same time.

  The first step: to write down all my ideas for songs.

  Think. Think. Think.

  Big problem! Three thinks + nothing = zero ideas.

  I looked around the room. Sometimes I get ideas for songs by writing down things I see.

  Ideas for Songs?

  • Our class hamster chomping on a toilet paper roll

  • The dirt on Resa’s shoes

  • Trash on the floor

  • Raindrops rolling down the window

  Oh no! Not good ideas!

  “Lucy, get to work,” Mrs. Brock said. “Pencil to the paper.”

  I looked at the donuts on my paper. If I ate 12 + 12 + 12 donut
s, I bet my tooth would fall out. My tooth was loose, and I wanted it to fall out so I’d get money from the tooth fairy. I wiggled my tooth. It gave me an idea for a song!

  I wrote:

  Tooth, tooth, tooth

  I wish you were dead.

  I wish you would fall

  Right out of my head.

  Kind of catchy, right?

  I looked up.

  Scarlett was writing like crazy. Either she was doing the word problem or else she was writing her song. I had to know!

  I raised my hand. “Mrs. Brock? Can I sharpen my pencil?”

  “No, Lucy. You’re wasting time. One more minute and then you need to turn your papers in.”

  Oh no! I looked down at the donuts on my paper. Then I wrote:

  I go nuts for donuts.

  Donuts are delicious.

  I wish I had a dozen now—

  They’re tastier than fishes.

  “Time’s up,” Mrs. Brock said. “Turn your papers in.”

  Mrs. Brock did not like my songs.

  I had the same problem in science and social studies.

  At the end of the day, Mrs. Brock gave me a letter to take home to my parents.

  Dear Mr. and Mrs. McGee,

  Lucy had a problem following directions. Her mind is wandering a lot. She is writing songs instead of doing her work. For homework, she needs to complete all the assignments that she should have done in class today.

  Please talk with her tonight.

  Mrs. Brock

  “Do you understand the problem, Lucy?” Mrs. Brock asked.

  “I do,” I said. “The problem is that it’s hard to write a catchy song during school.”

  For some reason, Mrs. Brock gave me a little smile and asked, “What am I going to do with you, Lucy McGee?”

  I was supposed to show Mrs. Brock’s letter to my dad after school. But when I got home, two wet, shiny ducks were in our bathtub!

  “Quack, quack,” said the small duck.

  “Ack, Ack,” said the smaller duck.

  They weren’t real ducks. They were my brother, Leo, and my sister, Lily. Whenever Leo takes a bath, he turns into a duck or a seal or a shark. Or a puffer fish. But mostly a duck. And whatever Leo does, Lily copies. You could call her a copycat, but today you’d have to call her a copyduck.

  “Hey Lucy!” My dad was sitting on the bathroom floor with his laptop. “Can you feed these two slippery-dippery ducks while I get dinner going?”

  “I need to write a new song,” I said. “There’s a big talent show at school in twelve days, and Phillip and I want to sing in it with the Songwriting Club.”

  “That’s great. But you can do it after dinner. I need help with these duckies.” He was out the door before I could say anything about the letter from Mrs. Brock. So that part wasn’t my fault.

  I looked at Leo and Lily. “Dudes, I need to write a song!”

  Leo smiled. “Me go—quack.”

  “Ha ha—quack,” I said.

  “Me hungry—quack,” he said. Leo tucked his arms in like little wings and opened his mouth for a snack. Lily did the same. My mom says they’re cute with whipped cream on top. Today they were cute with shampoo bubbles on top.

  “Okay ducky dudes, here’s your bread—quack.” I dropped pretend bread in each of their mouths, and they both chewed happily.

  When you are little and you have turned yourself into a duck, all you really need is make-believe food to be happy. Those were the days.

  I patted the ducks on their heads. “When you’re old like me, life is complicated,” I told them. “I need to write a song quick—quack! For real—quack. It has to be good, so everybody will want to sing it instead of Scarlett’s song.”

  Leo started singing and splashing water. “Quacking in the rain!”

  Lily laughed and splashed, too.

  Just then…bam! An idea popped into my head. “When it stops raining, a rainbow comes out,” I said. “That would be a good idea for a song.”

  The ducks stopped splashing and looked at me.

  “People love rainbows,” I said. “A song about a rainbow would be catchy.”

  “Quack!” Leo said.

  “The first verse will be about the rain, and then the chorus will be about the sun coming out and the rainbow shining in the sky. Hop out, little duckies. I’m going to turn the shower on so it sounds like rain. That will help me write.”

  Leo hopped out and I wrapped him in a towel.

  Lily held her arms out to me. She was too little to hop out by herself. I picked her up and wrapped her in a towel.

  I turned on the shower.

  The two ducks and I sat on the floor and listened. It sounded exactly like rain.

  “Everything okay in there?” my dad called out from the kitchen.

  “Yep!” I called back.

  I started to sing. “Oh, listen to the pitter-patter of the rain….”

  “Pitter-patter—quack!” Leo said.

  “This is not silly,” I said. “I’m writing a serious song about a rainbow. I want it to be sad at first like the rain.”

  Leo hopped up and waddled around like a silly duck ballerina and made rain fall on Lily’s head with his fingers.

  Lily giggled.

  I chased them both out of the bathroom.

  “Pitter-patter—quack,” Leo sang, and they raced up the stairs. I chased after them. When I got to the top of the stairs, they were gone and it was quiet. I tiptoed into their room. And then they jumped out from behind the door and quacked. With their little ducky fingers, they tickled me in the place where I’m the most ticklish—the backs of my knees.

  And then we heard a sound…a sound more terrible than a tornado…more horrible than a hurricane…more earth-shattering than an earthquake….It was the sound of my dad’s angry voice.

  “Lucy McGee!”

  Normally I like my name. But at that moment I wanted a different one.

  “Lucy McGee!” he called again, and I ran down.

  My dad was standing in the bathroom, which was flooded with soapy water.

  “How could you have forgotten to turn off the shower?” he yelled.

  Just then my mom walked in the door. “Uh-oh,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  I tucked my arms in like little wings and said, “Me go—quack?”

  After I cleaned up the bathroom, I did all my homework. In my closet.

  When I am upset, I sit on my special pillow in my closet. It isn’t a big closet, but it has a light. When I am sitting in there, I like the way my clothes hang down around my head. It’s like I’m alone in the jungle, and there are vines all around me.

  I don’t like to talk. But sometimes I write notes to my parents and slip them under the closet door into my bedroom.

  Leo knows this. He comes into my bedroom and checks for notes. If there is a note on the floor, he pretends he is an owl and hoots very softly so I know he’s there. And then he picks up the note in his owl beak and flies away to deliver it.

  After I was in my closet a while, I wrote a note.

  Dear Dad and Mom,

  I’m very sorry.

  In case you’re wondering, I did all my homework. And I’m still not coming out of this closet. If you hear sounds, it’s probably me crying. I am not having a good day because I need to write a song for the big talent show.

  I was trying to write it, and then Leo and Lily did the tickle thing and I forgot about the shower. The problem is Leo and Lily are cute. This should make you feel good. When I grow up I hope my kids are cute. But I don’t want my kids to be too cute because then I’ll forget things like turning off the shower and my house will have a flood. I hope I did a good job cleaning up. I tried hard.

  By the way, Mrs. Brock wrote you a letter, too. It is in
my backpack in the kitchen. You can save that one for another day, if you want. Too much reading is probably not good for your eyes. Too much crying isn’t, either, but I can’t stop.

  My face is wet like the world outside. It has been a very watery day.

  Your sad and sorry daughter,

  Lucy

  After Leo flew away, I waited and waited. I could smell pizza baking in the kitchen, and that made more tears come out of me because I was hungry and if I stayed in my closet forever, I would never taste pizza again.

  Then there was a little running sound and a “Hoot, hoot.”

  A note came under the door.

  Dear Lucy,

  You did a good job cleaning up. And we are glad you did your homework. We read the letter from Mrs. Brock. We need to talk about how to help you with time. We love that you want to sing in the talent show, but you have to pay attention during school.

  Come out and we’ll talk.

  It’s almost time for dinner.

  Love,

  Your dad and mom

  I opened the door and hugged Leo. Then we ran downstairs to the kitchen.

  Mom, Dad, Leo, and Lily all squashed me in another hug.

  “Do you understand that Mrs. Brock wants you to follow directions?” Mom asked.

  I nodded.

  “When it’s time for math, that means do math,” Dad said. “When it’s time for science…”

  “I’ll do science!” I said.

  “When it’s time to tickle…,” Leo said. “Tickle—quack.” He turned back into a duck and tickled me.

  Lily turned into a duck again and tickled Mom. And then Mom and Dad both turned into ducks and started tickling all of us.

  “Be a duck too—quack,” Leo said to me.

  “The more the merrier—quack,” my dad said.

  I flapped my wings. The more the quackier! A very merry flock!