Horrible Harry and the Scarlet Scissors

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Horrible Harry and the Scarlet Scissors Page 2

by Suzy Kline


  Poor Sid. He didn’t do anything. It was just bad timing—right after Harry got Mary’s scarlet scissors dirty.

  Sid took a quick look at Mary’s list and circled one right away. “I like your hobby!” he exclaimed. “You style hair?”

  “My dolls’ hair,” Mary said.

  “Do you do people’s hair?” he asked.

  Mary thought about it. Slowly, she began to smile. “I could.”

  “Would you do my hair after lunch?” he asked. “We have indoor recess again.”

  “Sure!” Mary replied, pulling a small notebook out of her desk. “Sidney LaFleur, you are my first booking. I’m putting you down for a twelve thirty appointment. Thank you for launching my new hairstyling business!”

  Sid stood up and took a bow.

  As soon as Mary looked my way, I quickly turned around. I didn’t want my hair done.

  I picked up Harry’s questionnaire.

  When I read his answers, my eyeballs almost popped out!

  Hair by Mare

  Not only was every answer on Harry’s questionnaire written with that creepy green crayon, all his favorite things were green, too!

  There was no way I was going to circle broccoli or green python.

  “What song is ‘Green, Green’?” I asked.

  “You don’t know that one?” Harry replied. “My grandma plays it all the time. It’s from a New Christy Minstrels album. I love the tune.” Harry started singing it:

  “Green, green, it’s green they say

  On the far side of the hill.

  Green, green, I’m going away

  To where the grass is greener still.”

  “Well,” I said. “I can see why you love that song. It’s all about the green grass.”

  Harry grinned.

  I circled Saint Patrick’s Day. “Are you wearing something green on Friday?”

  “Are you kidding?” Harry answered. “I am definitely wearing green.”

  After we exchanged papers again, the art teacher said, “Now I want you to choose one favorite thing from your own list and make a poster about it. Maybe your neighbor helped you make this decision. Maybe not. The important thing is that you are excited about it.”

  “What if you have trouble drawing your favorite thing?” ZuZu asked.

  “Yeah,” Dexter agreed. “I can’t draw Elvis very well.”

  “You can use resources, like a picture from a book, or if you’re drawing a shoe, look at your own,” the art teacher suggested. “Study the lines.”

  “That could help,” ZuZu said. He reached for our G encyclopedia.

  Dexter put two thumbs up. “You just gave me a cool idea!” And he took off one shoe and set it on his desk.

  Everyone got busy drawing posters. Mary took out her hand mirror and studied her face. She drew a picture of her head, then added a fancy hairdo and three words. The art teacher chuckled when she read them.

  “I like your message,” she said. “‘Hair by Mare.’ That’s clever.”

  Mary beamed. “I’m opening up my own beauty salon right here at school.”

  “I’m her first customer,” Sid bragged.

  “Client,” Mary corrected. “That’s what they say in real salons.”

  “Well, hair styling is an art,” Mrs. Matalata said.

  Mary threw both of her arms in the air. “Yes!”

  The art teacher moved on to Song Lee’s desk. “What kind of tree are you drawing?” she asked.

  “It’s a cherry tree,” Song Lee answered softly. “There are lots of those in Korea. That’s where my family is from.”

  “How wonderful,” Mrs. Matalata replied.

  She came to my desk next. “I love your hobby: ‘Reading about Native Americans.’”

  “Thanks,” I said. I was drawing birds on my Plains Indians’ tepee. I found a good picture of one in my library book.

  Sidney was drawing his grandfather’s canary perched on his finger. He did a good job on the finger. Sid kept staring at his own as he drew it.

  Now I wondered what Harry was drawing. A green stick figure guy celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day? A big head of broccoli? I had never seen Harry work so hard on a drawing before.

  When I looked over Harry’s shoulder and saw his poster, my jaw dropped.

  Harry’s Shocking Poster

  Harry had not touched the new box of crayons that the art teacher gave each of us. He was still using his fat green crayon with the ghostlike face. He kept drawing blades of grass all over his poster. Some were bent, some were leaning on the ground, some were standing tall. It looked like an unmowed lawn you could hide in. At the top was one word: MISSING.

  “Wow!” I said. “That’s…different, Harry.” I tried to think of another word besides shocking.

  “Thanks, Dougo. But I feel like it still needs something. I just don’t know what.”

  “You don’t have much room to add anything,” I replied. “Your poster is wall to wall grass!”

  “That’s my problem,” Harry said.

  As soon as everyone finished their poster, Mrs. Matalata asked each of us to talk about our work.

  Dexter went first. He had drawn a pair of blue shoes. “Elvis was the King of rock ’n’ roll. His version of ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ was popular in 1956. I have every song he ever sang, but this one is my favorite. I can’t draw people well, but I can draw shoes if I’m looking at them.”

  Mrs. Matalata touched Dexter’s poster. “You colored these so dark they feel like blue suede!”

  Ida went next. Her poster showed a ballet dancer. It looked just like Ida. “I have been taking lessons since I was four,” she said. “I love dancing!”

  The art teacher looked closely at her drawing. “I like the detail you put on the girl’s tutu, and the musical notes you drew on the side.”

  When Mrs. Matalata called on Harry, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone wondered what Harry could possibly draw. He held up his grass poster with the one word, MISSING.

  Everyone gasped.

  “He just used one color,” Mary observed. “And one word.”

  “I wonder how many blades of grass he drew!” Ida said.

  “I’d estimate about a thousand,” ZuZu replied.

  Song Lee clapped her hands silently. She smiled from ear to ear. “It’s original!” she exclaimed.

  “Winter is too long this year,” Harry said. “I miss the grass.”

  The art teacher put her hand over her heart. “I can feel it!” she said. “That’s what art can do—share a feeling.”

  After everyone talked about their poster, Mrs. Matalata headed for the door.

  “Aren’t you telling us who gets to go on TV to share their poster?” Mary asked.

  “That will be announced on Thursday,” the art teacher said. Then she slid a roll of masking tape over her wrist like a bracelet. “Now, let’s begin our poster parade. Please line up. We’re going to find a place for everyone’s poster somewhere in the school!”

  We jumped out of our seats, grabbed our posters, and hurried to the door.

  The Poster Parade

  We all followed Mrs. Matalata down the hall. Miss Mackle joined us for the parade. She walked at the end of the line and reminded people to stay together. One by one kids stopped to put up posters. I taped my tepee poster on the library door.

  Song Lee taped her cherry tree poster next to the large window in the hallway.

  “I don’t know where to put my ‘Hair by Mare’ poster,” Mary complained.

  “I know where I’m putting my poster,” Sid piped up. “The principal’s office. Cutey Pie has been there before.”

  We watched Sid tape his canary poster to Mr. Cardini’s door. “See you later, el tweeto,” Sid said.

  Mary continued to moan. “I have to find the perfect spot to hang my ‘Hair by Mare’ poster,” she repeated.

  “I know where you can hang it,” Harry said.

  “Where?” Mary eagerly asked.

  “The bathroom.”
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  “That’s gross, Harry!”

  “Well, it looks like a hair salon in there,” Harry replied. “You need a sink and a mirror.”

  Mary stopped walking. “People who look in the mirror are thinking about their hair,” she mumbled.

  As soon as the class got downstairs, Mary ducked into the girls’ bathroom. The door was propped open, so I could see the row of sinks. She taped her poster right next to the mirror. Then she skipped out of the bathroom. “I’m launching my hair salon business!” she exclaimed. “Now, after I go on TV and tell everyone about it, I’ll really get lots of clients!”

  ZuZu hung his poster of Jou Jou, his guinea pig, on the boiler room door. “Jou Jou likes small warm places,” ZuZu said.

  “I like the words you put on your poster, ZuZu,” Miss Mackle said. “‘Be Kind to Your Pets.’”

  Dexter hung his poster over the lost-and-found table. “Elvis’s blue suede shoes go well with all this stuff,” he said.

  When Ida hung her ballet poster in the gym, Mr. Deltoid, our phys ed teacher, stood up on his toes and twirled around. “Bravo!” he called out.

  Miss Mackle clapped as he danced.

  After we got back to our classroom, the art teacher started to say good-bye. She thought all the posters were displayed.

  “But Harry didn’t put up his poster!” I objected.

  “Oh, goodness,” Mrs. Matalata said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied. “I know exactly where I want to hang it.”

  We all watched Harry walk over to the classroom closet, open it up, and tape his poster to the inside of the door. Then he closed it. “Done!” he said.

  “Are you sure you want to put it there?” Miss Mackle asked. “No one will be able to see it.”

  “Positive,” Harry replied. Then he flashed a toothy smile.

  Mary shook her head. “I can’t believe Harry really did that,” she mumbled. “I was kidding!”

  Both teachers exchanged a look, and then chuckled.

  “Thanks, boys and girls, for being such hardworking artists,” Mrs. Matalata called out.

  “Thank you,” we all replied.

  Mary crossed both her fingers. “Ohh, I hope I get picked to go on TV. I have to!”

  After everyone had lunch, it was time for indoor recess. Mary styled Sid’s hair. She used a comb and a paper cup of water from our sink. When she was done, she gave Sid her hand mirror.

  “I love it!” Sid said. “I look like Dexter.” Sid’s hairdo was combed back and slick like Elvis.

  “Cool ’do, Mare,” Harry said as he passed by.

  “Way cool,” Dexter agreed.

  Mary beamed. “Do you want to be next, Dexter?”

  “Nooooo!” he replied. “My hair is like Elvis’s blue suede shoes. He sings, ‘Don’t step on my blue suede shoes.’ I sing, ‘Don’t mess with my hair, baby!’”

  “I get it,” Mary groaned. “I don’t need your business. I have other clients lined up.”

  Mary put Ida’s hair in a ponytail with a scarf around it. Then Mary took her pig and dog magneto pals off her book bag and attached them to each of Song Lee’s pigtails.

  Mary stepped back and admired her hair creations. “Just a few days more, girls, and it’s TV time!”

  Oh boy, I thought. I hope Mary does go on TV, because if she doesn’t, there’s going to be a huge Mary tantrum in Room 3B!

  The Big TV Show

  Two days later, it was Thursday, the day before Saint Patrick’s Day. The day we would find out who would get to go on South School’s TV station to talk about their poster. I could tell everyone was excited. When Harry and I were getting a drink in Room 3B, the girls rushed in, squealing.

  “I love it!” Ida exclaimed.

  “You look beautiful!” Song Lee said to Mary. All three girls were jumping up and down.

  Mary’s hair was really curly.

  “Mom gave me a new perm last night. Just in time.” Mary lowered her voice. “Just in case I might go on TV!” Then she squealed again.

  I kept my fingers crossed for Mary, and for myself. It would be really neat to go on TV and talk about the Plains Indians. I could show the whole school how they live in tepees. But I also wanted Mary to win. There would be no peace in Room 3B if she didn’t.

  Dexter strutted into class wearing a shirt with Elvis on it. He had added extra gel to his hair. I could tell he was hoping to go on TV, too.

  As we sat there waiting for the morning show to come on, Harry whispered, “See you later, Doug. I have to go bad.”

  Harry dashed out the door like it was a bathroom emergency.

  Miss Mackle turned on the TV. “There’s Bria!” Mary called out as the camera panned the library.

  Bria and Kemba were sitting at the table. “Welcome, South School. We bring you special news!” Kemba exclaimed.

  “It’s time for the first televised South School Art Show,” Bria continued. “Mrs. Matalata?”

  The camera moved to the art teacher. “All of the third and fourth graders did a terrific job with their posters. Today, I would like to feature five posters that were real attention grabbers. They make you stop and think. These posters also have lots of feeling.”

  We recognized only one.

  Mary slouched in her chair as she blew up her curly bangs. It wasn’t hers.

  “It’s Harry’s!” we all shouted. There was his grass poster!

  The class looked back at Harry’s desk. He wasn’t there.

  “Where’s Harry?” Song Lee blurted out. I could tell she was worried. She never talks without being called on.

  “Don’t worry, boys and girls,” Miss Mackle said. “Harry’s in the library.”

  Suddenly Harry appeared on TV! When the camera panned in on his face, Harry flashed a toothy smile. Then the camera zoomed in on the blades of grass on Harry’s poster and the one word at the top, MISSING.

  Harry brought the microphone to his mouth. “When Mrs. Matalata said we could draw what we love, I knew right away what it was. The grass! I really miss it. I also miss looking for earwigs and night crawlers. Those are beautiful things to me,” he said.

  After the other four kids shared their posters, Harry returned to Room 3B. Everyone clapped. Except Mary. She was frozen in her chair and gritting her teeth. She looked like a time bomb ready to go off!

  Mary and the Scarlet Scissors

  “Way to go, Harry!” I said, greeting him at the door. Harry had his poster under his arm. Song Lee and Ida dashed over to him and gave him a hug.

  “How was it?” Miss Mackle asked.

  Harry shrugged.

  “You had about three hundred and forty kids watching you, Harry!” ZuZu said. “That’s how many there are at South School.”

  Song Lee and Ida were still clapping their hands for Harry.

  “Thanks, guys,” Harry said. “But it was no biggie. It’s just like being in the library, only I didn’t check out a book.”

  Mary folded her arms. She hadn’t moved from her desk. “It’s no fair,” she mumbled. “Harry doesn’t even appreciate going on TV. It should have been me!”

  Harry set his poster down on his desk. “Boy, I need a drink after all that talking,” he said, and walked over to the water faucet by the classroom sink.

  Miss Mackle began writing math problems on the board. “Please copy these in your math journal. It’s time to practice multiplication.”

  Mary reached for her scarlet scissors. She turned and faced Harry’s empty desk.

  What is she up to? I wondered.

  I looked at Mary, and then at her scarlet scissors. The blades were spread apart. There was still a little green crayon line on one of the tips. Mary took Harry’s poster, held it up, and then stabbed it!

  My eyes bulged. There were two slashes right in the middle of Harry’s art paper!

  I looked around.

  Did anyone else see?

  Not the teacher. She had her back to the class. She was still writing math problems.r />
  Everyone else was copying them down except for one person. Song Lee.

  When our eyes met, I could tell we both had the same thought.

  How could Mary do that?

  Song Lee covered her eyes.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  Mary couldn’t believe it, either. She immediately dropped her scarlet scissors. The poster slipped out of her hands onto the floor. Mary collapsed into her chair. When I looked up, Harry was on his way back from the drinking fountain. Oh boy, I thought.

  Harry sat down and wiped water off his mouth. Then he bent over and picked up his poster from the floor.

  “There’s still something missing in my picture, Doug,” he said, and he held it up.

  He looked long and hard at his poster.

  The two holes were right in the middle.

  “Hey,” Harry said. “Who did this?”

  The Hole Truth

  I looked over at Mary. She had her head buried on her desk. Very slowly, she sat up and turned toward Harry. “I did it,” she whispered. There were tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Harry. As soon as I did it, I knew it was wrong. I was just so jealous about you going on TV. Can I tape the holes up for you? I have transparent tape.”

  Harry shook his head.

  He was still looking straight ahead at his poster. He didn’t say a word. He just kept looking at those holes.

  Suddenly Harry blurted out, “I’ve got it!”

  Sidney looked up from his math. “Hey,” he said, “who ruined Harry’s poster?”

  Miss Mackle turned around. “Is there a problem?”

  Everyone looked up from their math journals. The teacher walked over to Harry’s desk. “What happened to your poster?” she asked.

  Mary was shaking. She was terrified. She started to say something, but Harry interrupted her.

 

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