Horrible Harry in Room 2B

by Suzy Kline

  “Well,” Sidney replied, “nothing like a good laugh.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said. “So, I just wanted to shake your hand and let you know how I feel about things.”

  Sidney put out his hand.

  Harry shook it.

  “Hey!” Sidney said, jerking his hand away and looking at it. “What’s this yellow and brown slime in my hand?”

  Harry made his teeth show as he smiled. “It was a slug.”

  “Aaaauuuugh!” Sidney screamed. “I squeezed a slimy slug! Help!” He ran down the sidewalk shaking his hand in the air.

  Harry closed his lunch box. “Well, Doug, a leftover banana packs a lot of power.”

  “Especially for triple revenge,” I said.

  Harry wiped his hands on his jeans. “The guy had it coming. You don’t fool around with Terrible Tyrannosaurus Rex,” he said as he tucked the book under his arm. “Or ... me.”

  I nodded.

  Because it was the horrible truth.

  Horrible Harry and the Thanksgiving Play

  Miss Mackle said that Room 2B was putting on a Thanksgiving play for the parents.

  “Some of you will be Pilgrims, some of you will be Indians, and one of you will be Squanto.”

  “I want to be Squanto,” I said. “I want to show the Pilgrims how to plant corn with dead fish bodies.”

  Miss Mackle looked out the window.

  When she looked back, she said, “Okay, Doug, you can be Squanto.”

  “I want to be the dead fish body,” Harry said.

  Miss Mackle stared at Harry. “You want to be a dead fish in our Thanksgiving play?”

  Everyone in the class looked at Harry.

  Harry beamed. “It’s an important role. If it wasn’t for the dead fish, the Pilgrims wouldn’t have been able to fertilize the corn and if the corn wasn’t fertilized, the corn wouldn’t have grown and the Pilgrims would have starved and you wouldn’t have a play about them. So, I want to be a dead fish.”

  “But that’s a horrible part to play ...

  a dead fish!“ Miss Mackle said, making a face.

  Harry flashed his white teeth. “I don’t mind.”

  Of course Harry wouldn’t mind. Harry loves to do horrible things.

  At the first practice, Song Lee got sick.

  All she had to say was “Life is hard.” She was a Pilgrim. But she just mumbled.

  “You have to speak up,” Miss Mackle said.

  Song Lee looked like she was going to cry.

  “Do you not feel well?” Miss Mackle asked.

  Song Lee shook her head.

  Ten minutes later, Song Lee went home.

  Everyone knew why. Song Lee wasn’t really sick. She was just too scared to say anything in front of anybody.

  “Okay, places, everybody,” Miss Mackle called. “Pilgrims, you are in the field sowing. Squanto, you come in and say your line about helping them plant corn. Pilgrims, you talk among yourselves about how hard life is.”

  Everyone did what Miss Mackle said except Harry.

  “You wiggle forward when Squanto pulls you on the rope,” Miss Mackle said.

  “I don’t feel like wiggling right now,” Harry said.

  “But you have to wiggle a little so that Squanto can pull you in,” Miss Mackle replied. “You’re too heavy.”

  “I’ll wiggle a little,” Harry grumbled.

  I could tell Harry wasn’t his old self. He didn’t feel like being a dead fish.

  After school Harry came to my house.

  He called Song Lee on my phone. And then he talked with her mother.

  I wondered if Harry’s bad mood had something to do with Song Lee’s going home.

  The next day at practice, Song Lee showed up. She whispered something in Miss Mackle’s ear. Miss Mackle leaned back against the chalkboard. She looked shocked. Finally she smiled.

  “Okay, places, everybody,” she called. “Pilgrims, you are in the field sowing. Squanto, you come in with your two fish.”

  “Two?” I said.

  “Two?” the class said.

  Miss Mackle cleared her throat. “Song Lee would like to be a dead fish also.”

  The class looked down at Song Lee and Harry.

  I looked down.

  They were lying on the floor. Dead. Saying nothing.

  “And Song Lee’s mother made fish tails and fish fins for them. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  I could tell Harry thought it was wonderful. He was playing a dead fish that smiled.

  “Places, everyone,” Miss Mackle called again.

  Everyone did what Miss Mackle said. I said my line real well. And when I got to the part about fertilizing the corn with dead fish, I had a rope around Harry’s waist and Song Lee’s waist to slide them in.

  They both wiggled forward.

  So it was easy.

  Sometimes Harry’s horrible ideas help the class.

  Horrible Harry and the Field Trip

  Harry and I made a promise. We said, “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” that we were going to be partners for our field trip.

  Three weeks ago!

  The morning of the field trip, just when the bus pulled up in front of South School, Harry said, “Doug, I can’t be your partner.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Song Lee doesn’t have a partner. Her partner is home with the flu.”

  “Great!” I said. “So now I get to be the one with no partner.”

  “You can tough it out,” Harry said. Then he flashed his ugly white teeth and sat down next to Song Lee on the bus.

  Harry really is horrible!

  I sat in front of him next to Miss Mackle.

  “Do you want the window seat?” she asked.

  I shook my head. I wanted to sit on the aisle, across from Sidney.

  Sidney leaned over and said, “Forget Harry. He’s a canary.”

  Harry looked over and held up a fist.

  I made a face. “Harry is a canary. Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!”

  Now Harry had both fists in the air.

  That’s when I sat back and talked with Miss Mackle. “What do you have in your lunch?” I asked her.

  “Cream cheese on date-nut bread, celery, and dried apricots.”

  It sounded like something my teacher would eat.

  “What do you have in your lunch, Doug?”

  “Jelly sandwich, apple, and six giant chocolate chip cookies.” I said the last part real loud.

  Harry leaned over the bus seat and drooled.

  “Mom packed me extras for my partner,” I said.

  Harry licked his lips.

  “Do you like chocolate chip cookies?” I asked Miss Mackle.

  “I love them,” she said.

  “I do too,” Harry said.

  “Sit down, Harry,” Miss Mackle scolded.

  Harry made a face.

  I noticed Song Lee was talking to Mary and Ida across the aisle.

  Harry just kept staring out the window. He had no one to talk to.

  When we got to the aquarium, Miss Mackle and I were line leaders. We led the class into the building and into the room with the big tropical-fish tanks.

  Just when I was looking at the upside-down catfish, Harry said, “Do you want to be partners?”

  I gave him a look. “I wouldn’t be your partner in a thousand years.”

  “I’ll wait,” Harry said.

  When I was through looking at the upside-down catfish, I said, “I thought you were partners with Song Lee.”

  “She’s with her two other friends, Mary and Ida. They’re going to sit three on a seat on the way home.”

  “I wouldn’t be your partner in a hundred years,” I said.

  “I’ll wait,” Harry replied.

  At lunch everyone sat at picnic tables. I sat next to Sidney.

  That was when a bee landed on my jelly sandwich.

  I didn’t move.

  Sidney screamed.

  Harry grabbed his paper cu
p and trapped the bee on my bread. Then he took the sandwich with the cup on top of it and walked it to the trash can.

  Harry dropped the bee inside the can and closed the flap. “Some jerk is gonna get a big surprise when he opens this!” he said.

  Then Harry offered me half of his sardine sandwich.

  “No thanks,” I said. “I can’t eat sardines now. They look too much like the fish in the aquarium.”

  Harry stared at his sardine sandwich. He looked sick.

  He ran to the trash can and threw it in.

  That was when Harry got his big surprise.

  The bee flew out of the trash can and stung Harry on the cheek!

  Boy, did Harry yell!

  I felt bad for him.

  Miss Mackle got out her first-aid kit and put something on Harry’s bee sting.

  When it was time to go, Harry got on the bus first and sat in the back seat by the window.

  Alone.

  As I walked up the bus aisle, Sidney moved over. “Want to share a seat with us, Doug? You don’t want to sit with that canary Harry.”

  That’s when I made a fist. “Don’t call Harry a canary.”

  And I went over and sat down next to Harry.

  “You don’t think I’m a jerk?” he asked.

  I shook my head. He did try to help me. He got stung because of me. I reached into my lunch bag and handed Harry my last chocolate chip cookie.

  “Thanks, pal,” he said, and he ate every crumb.

  Harry isn’t always horrible.

  Just once in a while.

  About the Author

  SUZY KLINE graduated from the University of California at Berkeley and received her elementary school teacher’s credential from California State University at Hayward. She has been an elementary school teacher for many years and lives in Torrington, Connecticut with her husband and two daughters.

  About the Illustrator

  FRANK REMKIEWICZ is a graduate of the Arts Center School in Los Angeles. In addition to having illustrated over twenty books for children, Remkiewicz also provided the illustrations for the box of an ever-popular brand of animal crackers. He is married, has three children, and lives in Guerneville, California.