Annie Pitts, Artichoke

by Diane deGroat

  Of course, I had nothing to do with it. It was that strange person inside of me. So you can imagine my surprise when Matthew started yelling at me. He didn’t call me Fish-Face, either. He used a word I had never heard before. It couldn’t have been a very nice one, though, because his mother grabbed him by the arm and took him off to the side for a talk.

  Miss G. remained somewhat calm. I thought that was very cool. Maybe she found her aspirin. She apologized to Hank, who had witnessed the whole ugly scene. That was not very cool. He politely asked us to leave his store; and before we knew it, we were being escorted to the exit.

  I never found out what happened to the fish. It was last seen stretched out on the green linoleum of Shopper’s Supreme. But its fate couldn’t have been any worse than what was about to happen to me. Miss G. told me that I was to ride back with her group. And I don’t think she wanted to talk about her childhood eating habits, either.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I always thought it would be special to ride in a teacher’s car. The fact that I was about to get a lecture made it not so special. If only I hadn’t flung that fish ...

  Miss G. cleared her throat as she pulled out of the parking lot. I sank lower into my seat and pretended I was admiring the treetops that whizzed past.

  At the first red light, Miss G. finally spoke. But she didn’t yell or anything like that. She was actually quite nice. She said, “Annie, I know Matthew teases you and makes you angry sometimes. But you must try harder to control your reactions. If people took it upon themselves to solve their problems the way you did today, the world would be in a terrible mess.”

  I tried to imagine everyone in the whole world tossing fish around, and I had to agree with her. Things could get really messy. And smelly. My hand still smelled a little fishy. I wondered if Matthew’s face smelled fishy, too.

  Miss G. continued. “The rest of the class seems to be able to work nicely together. I just wish you could be a little less independent and follow directions like everyone else.” She looked at me hopefully and said, “Can you give it a try, Annie?”

  “Yes, Miss G.,” I said. I really meant it, too.

  Miss G. gave me a little smile, and I smiled back. For the rest of the ride we were silent, but the kids in the backseat were laughing and fooling around. I guess they didn’t think it was so special to be riding in a teacher’s car.

  When we reached the school, everyone rushed into the classroom, but Miss G. called me back into the hall. Uh-oh, I thought. Now that we’re alone, she’s really going to let me have it. But what she said surprised me.

  “You know, Annie,” she began. “When I was your age, there was a boy in my class who teased me so much that I finally had to do something. Something bad. I knew I wasn’t a bad person, but something inside of me had to do something bad to Horace Tuttle.”

  My jaw dropped. “What did you do to Horace Tuttle?” I dared to ask.

  “I glued his math book shut,” she said quite casually.

  I gasped. My own teacher had done what she always told us not to do. We were not to treat a book unkindly. If we made a pencil mark in our books, we were being “unkind.” Imagine globbing glue between the pages! That would be like murdering it! I stared at her as if she were suddenly from another planet.

  Miss G. went on. “Even though I paid for the book, my teacher made it clear that she was disappointed in me. Maybe that’s why I’m such a ‘clean book’ fanatic today!”

  Miss G. chuckled a little, but I didn’t think it was funny. I hoped she wasn’t disappointed in me. Maybe I should offer to pay for the fish. Or maybe I could buy some special shampoo that would get the smell out of Matthew’s hair. Finally, I decided that I should just try harder to stay out of trouble.

  Once we were back in the classroom, Miss G. acted like she always did. She was very good at pretending that she was a normal teacher and not an ex– book murderer. She could probably be an actress someday if she really wanted to. I would be sure to suggest it to her when I got a chance. I could even help her practice smiling.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing proper trip behavior. Again. I thought that the play would be canceled because some of us acted so poorly. That would mean no play and no commercial. I could see that my acting career was off to a pretty slow start!

  So I was surprised when Miss G. announced that the play would go on as planned. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” she said, “but this is the last chance for you to show me that you really can work together.”

  She was looking at Matthew and me when she said that.

  I was very good for the rest of the day which was about ten more minutes. I didn’t even laugh when Matthew tripped on his way to the board. The rest of the poorly behaved class did, but not me. I sat perfectly still with my hands folded on my desk. I was so good for so long that I almost exploded by the time the bell rang.

  When I got home, I told Grandma all about the trip and how I got into trouble. She wasn’t upset with me, and she wasn’t upset about Miss G. being a book killer. Instead she just smiled whenever I mentioned Matthew’s name.

  “I remember a boy who always teased me when I was in school,” she said.

  “Was his name Horace Tuttle, by any chance?” I asked.

  “No, I called him Silly Willy.”

  “Did you do something bad to Silly Willy?” I asked.

  “I married him.” She laughed. “Your grandpa William wouldn’t leave me alone until I did!”

  My grandpa died a couple of years ago. But all the time I knew him, he was always playing jokes on my grandma. She seemed to like it, though. Once, he painted black cow spots on her white sneakers, because she collected cow figures. She actually thought it was neat, and she still wears those sneakers, even though they’re really old and worn out.

  All of this wasn’t helping me much. I wasn’t about to marry Matthew, or glue his books shut. I would have to deal with him in my own way. But I would have to think about that later. Right now I wanted to concentrate on the school play. Miss G. had asked us to think about ideas for it.

  I had thought of a really great idea. I could be a TV chef who shows viewers how to make fancy stuff like wedding cakes. Only I would make healthy stuff like whole wheat wedding cakes. The rest of the class would be the camera crew, except for Marsha-Miss-Never-Touch-Dirt. I would make her clean up the kitchen after me.

  The next day we discussed our ideas in class. Miss G. listed three of our best ideas on the board, including mine about the TV chef. I was sure my idea was the best. It was far superior to Matthew’s idea about killer tomatoes eating people, and Marsha’s idea about a cook finding a magic kettle.

  We raised our hands to vote for our favorite. To my surprise, Marsha-Miss-I-Won-I-Won got the most votes. Things went downhill from there.

  Miss G. listed all the parts on the board so that the kids could choose their roles. Due to the unfortunate fish incident at Shopper’s Supreme, Miss G. said that Matthew and I would be the last to choose.

  But I couldn’t complain. I was just happy she let us be in the play at all.

  Of course, Marsha-Miss-Wonderful got the leading role as the cook, because the story was her idea. One by one, everyone picked a part. The junk foods were very popular. Susan picked the part of the Twinkie, and Elan chose the chocolate bar. Some of the other junk foods were ice cream, peppermint candy, and my own personal favorite, jelly beans. Patty took that part. I was so jealous.

  When there were no more junk-food parts left, the class took turns choosing the more healthy foods. Thomas chose the part of the apple, but then insisted that it be changed to grapes. He had seen a really cool grapes costume in a catalog, and he was sure his mother would order it for him.

  Miss G. did say that our parents could help us with our costumes. I guess that’s a form of helping, if your parents order a costume from a catalog for you, but I was sure my grandma would help me make one that was just as special.

  When there were only two parts remainin
g, Matthew chose the granola, and I got the one that was left. I, Annie Pitts, was the artichoke.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “The Cook and the Magic Kettle” was about a cook who finds a magic pot that gives her whatever food she wishes for. At first, the cook wants only sweets. Each time she wishes for something sweet, a kid dressed up as a junk food would pop up out of the pot and say his lines. Then the cook pretends to eat him.

  Of course, all that bad food makes the cook sick, so she wishes for good foods like vegetables and dairy products. After she eats them, she becomes healthy again. In our grand finale, we sing a song about the joys of a healthy body. This had to be the worst idea for a play I ever heard of!

  Since Marsha got the part of the cook, she acted as if she were the queen of the world. She would refer to me as “that vegetable.” She would whine to Miss G., “Does that vegetable have to stand in front of me? No one can see me.” Or she would say things like, “Does that vegetable have to say her lines so loud? No one can hear me.”

  I had to listen to this every day when we rehearsed at recess. But mostly I stood around and watched, because the artichoke didn’t really have much to say. My lines were:

  Eat your veggies every day.

  They’re full of fiber and vitamin A.

  That was it. After a couple of days, I knew everyone else’s part, too. When Thomas was sick on Thursday, I filled in for him during the rehearsal. When Patty was absent on Friday, Miss G. asked me to say her lines also.

  I was so good at remembering everyone’s lines that Miss G. asked me to fill in for anyone who was absent during the actual play.

  “No problem,” I answered. The truth was, any part was better than the artichoke. Except maybe for Jamie’s part. He was the fish.

  Meanwhile, I watched Marsha for any signs of a cold or the flu. I would be ready! Every now and then, I would walk up to her and say, “You look pale, Marsha. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe you should see the nurse.”

  After lunch, I would say things like, “I hope you didn’t eat that tuna fish sandwich, Marsha. I ate tuna fish just like that last week, and it made me throw up.”

  But Marsha paid no attention to me. She went right on being healthy. But I still watched. And waited.

  A week before the play Grandma helped me with my costume. Mom bought an artichoke so that we could see how it was put together. I thought it was put together rather strangely. It didn’t really look like food, but more like a cactus plant. I wondered what would have made someone think that it was edible. I mean, did a caveman accidentally put one in his mouth and say, “Food,” and from then on people knew that they could eat artichokes?

  These mind-boggling thoughts didn’t bother Grandma. She just started right in on the costume. I helped her cut giant leaves out of green felt. Then she sewed them onto my Halloween pumpkin costume that she had made for me last year. It was just the right shape for an artichoke.

  I stood in front of the big mirror in my mother’s room with the costume on.

  I was a pretty cute artichoke, if I do say so myself. I turned around slowly, trying to see myself as the audience would. If I had to be an artichoke, I was going to be the best one I could be! I practiced smiling and bowing. Bowing took more practice, because it wasn’t easy to bend if you were a big, puffy vegetable.

  I practiced my lines over and over:

  Eat your veggies every day.

  They’re full of fiber and vitamin A.

  I practiced each word as loudly and as clearly as I could. I shouted out loud, “Fiber, fiber, FIBER!”

  Mom came running into the room, screaming, “Oh, my God! Where’s the fire?”

  “Not ‘fire,’” I said. “‘Fiber.’ Veggies are full of it.” I guess I needed to work more on my pronunciation.

  That night Mom cooked the artichoke. The real one, not the costume. But of course I didn’t eat it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mom arranged to take off from work on the afternoon of the play. I was glad, because she doesn’t get to visit my school very often like some of the parents who don’t work during the day. Grandma was coming, too.

  When I got to school, I hung up my costume and took a quick look to see who was absent. Marsha showed up. Looking well, I might add. But Jamie was home sick. Great. Besides being the artichoke, I would have the honor of playing the part of the fish.

  Of course, I knew what Matthew was thinking. He said it out loud. “Hey, Fish-Face. You should be really good at Jamie’s part. You won’t even have to act!”

  But I wasn’t going to let anything spoil my acting career today, not even Matthew. I tossed my hair and said, “You’re such a child, Matthew.” Then I turned and left in my most actress-like way. No, Matthew was no longer a bother. I had more important things to do. I was Annie Pitts, artichoke. And fish.

  After lunch, we got into our costumes and waited in the classroom while the rest of the school and the parents filled the auditorium. We were unusually quiet. Even Matthew. If I didn’t know better, I would say that he was nervous.

  Miss G. stood in the front of the room wearing a new dress she probably had bought just for the play. She had lost some weight these past few weeks, and we were very, very proud of her. It must have been hard for her to rehearse every day with talking food!

  When she had our attention, she said, “Boys and girls, you’ve worked very hard together these past weeks. I think this will be the best play my class has ever done! Now, let’s move quietly to the stage, just like we practiced.” I could tell that she was proud of us, too.

  We marched down the hall as quietly as we could. It was hard because some of the costumes made swishing and clacking noises when we walked. Besides wearing my artichoke costume, I carried the large cardboard fish that Jamie had made. I was supposed to hold it in front of me when I said his lines.

  When we went through the back door of the stage, the curtain was closed and we took our places. Marsha-Miss-Aren’t-I-Lucky-to-Be-the-Star-of-the-School-Play stood in the center. The big cardboard kettle was on the left side of the stage, right next to the curtain.

  As she “wished” for each food, the kid was supposed to pop up from behind the pot to say his lines. Then they were to line up neatly across the center of the stage in preparation for the grand finale.

  Miss G. gave the signal and the curtain opened. There was some applause from the audience. Then Marsha-the-WorstActress-in-the-World strolled across the stage and pretended to find the humongous kettle in the middle of the woods. She read the note attached to it:

  Be it sweet, or be it meat;

  whatever you wish, you’ll get to eat.

  She wished for some chocolate, and a giant candy bar popped out of the pot. Elan said his part, then walked to his place to start the line of foods.

  One by one, the rest of the junk foods popped out of the pot after the cook wished for them, and the audience applauded after each speech. So far, so good.

  The Twinkie was the last sweet food that the cook wished for. Susan was dressed in her yellow ballet tights and leotard, and had a piece of plastic wrapped around her. She looked just like a real package of Twinkies because she had drawn the label on the front. She popped up and said:

  Sugar is good, and sugar is sweet;

  but before you know it, you’ll have no teeth.

  Marsha pretended to take a bite out of the Twinkie and said, “Yum.” After she was “eaten,” the Twinkie took the most elegant bow I’d ever seen. Then she twirled and twirled across the stage to her place in line.

  That wasn’t the way we rehearsed it, but Susan has been taking ballet lessons since she was four. I guess she just automatically twirls and bows when she gets in front of an audience. The audience applauded loudly. When they quieted down, Marsha said her lines. She held her stomach and shouted:

  That’s enough of this bad food!

  I need a meal that’s healthy and good.

  My turn, I mean Jamie’s turn, was next. I held the fish in
front of me and popped up from behind the pot. I said his lines perfectly:

  Protein makes your muscles strong.

  I’m brain food, too, so I can’t be wrong.

  I walked across the stage, peeking out from behind the fish so that everyone would know that it was me, not Jamie. When the audience applauded, they applauded for Annie Pitts, so of course I took an elegant bow, just as Susan had done. I can’t describe the feeling I had as I bowed again and again. And again. Maybe next time I’d try spinning, too.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I ducked behind the curtain and crossed the stage so that I could pop up again as the artichoke. Before I left, though, I noticed the video camera that was standing in the center aisle. Our show was being taped! I was going to be in a movie!

  I got so excited that I bumped into Miss G. behind the curtain. “There’s a video camera out there!” I said in a loud whisper.

  “I know,” she whispered back. “The principal said he would make copies of the play for the parents who wanted to buy one. Now hurry back in line.” She scooted me behind Matthew. It was almost his turn.

  “They’re taping the play,” I whispered to him. “We’re going to be in a movie!”

  Matthew wasn’t excited. Matthew wasn’t even moving. Marsha motioned for him to come out from behind the curtain when it was his turn, but he just wouldn’t budge. “I forgot my lines!” he squeaked.

  I didn’t want Matthew to ruin the play, so I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll whisper them to you. Now get behind the kettle!” That seemed to do the trick, because Matthew slowly made his way over to the pot.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t bend very well in the granola box. He had trouble hiding behind the pot. His head was still sticking up when Marsha was supposed to say her lines. Instead of her lines, she said, “Get down, Matthew. Everyone can see you!”