by Julie Bowe
Everyone turns to look at my drawing. Several people actually laugh.
"That's really funny, Ida," Stacey says.
"Thanks," I mumble back.
Jenna rolls her eyes. "I don't see what pirates have to do with the pageant," she snips.
"It's a potato pageant," I say to Jenna as Mr. Crow tapes my picture to the board. "The pirates are potatoes."
"Yes, but my mother said the most beautiful design will win the contest," Jenna says. "Pirates are not beautiful."
"Well," I say. "You are the expert of unbeautiful things."
Jenna gives me a scowl. A few people hold back giggles. Then she says, "If you want to see something that is beautiful, look at this."
Jenna holds up the drawing she is working on. It's a field of potatoes. Bunnies scamper around it. Butterflies flutter over it. A rainbow stretches across the sky. It ends at the feet of a smiling girl who is wearing her hair in two braids.
Dominic glances at Jenna's picture. "Borrring," he whispers.
"What did you say?" Jenna snaps.
Dominic shifts in his seat. "Beauuutiful?" he offers. Then he ducks his head and pretends to be very interested in studying his potato.
Jenna gets up and practically jabs her picture into Mr. Crow's face.
"Very nice, Jenna," he says, backing away.
"Don't you want to hang it up?" Jenna asks.
"Maybe later," he says. "Right now Ida's picture is on the board."
Jenna's face heats up like a plate of french fries. She stomps back to her desk and glares at me. Then she grits her teeth and hisses, "Not. For. Long."
At lunch, everyone is talking about the Potato Pageant. But I just sit quietly and think about getting a note from Anastasia. When it's time for afternoon recess, I sneak over to Bessie and slip behind her branches when no one is looking.
I see a note hidden there.
I pull it out.
And smile.
Chapter 11
Riding home on the bus, I read the note for the twenty-ninth time.
Dear Cordelia,
This is a great hiding place! Let's keep it a secret, okay? It's fun to have a good secret for a change,
Leave the letter A on your desk so I'll know who you are, I'd really like to know, I'll keep that a secret, too,
By the way, my real name isn't Anastasia, I'm sorry I lied,
Anastasia
I wonder why she lied about her real name. I wonder if she's lying when she says she will keep this a secret. I wonder if she lies about everything.
I wonder if I should write back.
When I get home, my mom is outside, digging in her flower bed.
"Hi, Ida!" she calls, as I walk up the driveway. She brushes dirt off her gloves and sits back on the heels of her gardening clogs. "I ran into Jenna's mom this afternoon. She mentioned the window-painting contest."
"Yes," I say, stuffing Stacey's note into my pocket. "She mentioned it to us, too."
"Sounds like a fun project for you," my mom says. "You're so good at drawing."
I just shrug. "Mr. Crow liked my drawing of potato pirates," I say.
My mom smiles. "I bet the kids liked it, too."
I think about Jenna. "Some of them did," I say, and head inside.
When I get to my room, I pull out Stacey's note and show it to George. "She wrote back," I say.
George gives me the once-over and then waits for more information.
"She's probably lying about keeping this a secret," I say. "If I tell her who I really am she'll just run off and blab to Jenna that I'm a total baby for sending her secret notes."
I read the note again. Then I pull a piece of paper out of my desk drawer. And start writing.
Dear Anastasia,
Are you as good at keeping secrets as you are at telling Lies? I know you don't Live with your rich aunt. I saw her and she didn't Look one bit rich. Plus, rich aunts don't wear pink Curlers in their hair. Grandmothers do.
If you promise not to Lie to me, I promise not to tell everyone that you aren't who you say you are.
Cordelia
I read the note to George. He shudders.
"I know," I say. "But if I'm going to keep writing to her, I have to get a few things straight right from the start."
The next morning, I hide my note to Anastasia in the secret stone before school. When I get to the classroom, my Potatoes of the Caribbean drawing is no longer hanging on the board. It's on my desk. Torn into a million pieces.
I give Jenna a glare. She just smiles sweetly and then starts giggling with Meeka and Jolene.
I scoop up all the pieces of paper and throw them into the wastebasket. I think about throwing Jenna in, too.
I slump in my desk.
"Jenna did it," I hear someone say.
I look up. Tom Sanders is looking at me over the top of his social studies book.
"I know," I reply.
"Are you going to tell Mr. Crow?" Tom asks. I sigh. "No."
Tom nods. "Smart move," he says. "Remember when Jenna made me drink my fake tornado in first grade?"
"Yeah," I say.
"She did that because I told on her for smashing the block tower I was building. If you tell on her about this, she'll do something even meaner to you."
Tom goes back to reading his book. "By the way, Ida, your drawing was good," he says.
"Really?" I say.
"Really," he says back.
***
While Mr. Crow takes attendance, I write the letter A on a scrap of paper. But I don't leave it on my desk like Stacey wants me to. When it's time for our milk break, I toss the A onto Stacey's desk when everyone is getting their cartons of milk and the cookies Mr. Crow brought for a snack.
After our first recess, I see the letter C on Stacey's desk. At the end of the second recess, I check the stone again.
Dear Cordelia,
You're right, I don't have a rich aunt. And I do live with my grandma. Please don't tell anyone. I promise not to lie to you anymore. I don't usually lie. Just when it's an emergency. I can't tell you a^out the emergency yet. It's too scary.
I'll tell you a secret, though. I think Jenna Drews is mean.
Anastasia
P.S. Why are you scared to tell me who you really are?
Chapter 12
When I get back to the classroom, it's time for Phys Ed. I slip the note into my backpack and then get in line to walk to the gym.
Our Phys Ed teacher, Ms. Stein, is waiting for us when we get there. She's dressed in her usual hooded sweatshirt and training pants. Like always, there's a whistle in her mouth. Several red rubber balls huddle around her sneakers.
"The name of the game is dodgeball, ladies and gentlemen," she says, clenching the whistle in her teeth.
Everyone else cheers.
"I love dodgeball," I hear Stacey say to Jenna. "I'm really good at it."
"Not as good as me," Jenna says back.
Ms. Stein makes all of us number off into two teams. I'm glad to be on Jenna's team so she can't throw balls at me. Stacey's on Jenna's team, too.
"I'll be captain," Jenna says, while Ms. Stein starts kicking balls onto the gym floor. "Stacey, you stand next to me." Jenna positions herself front and center.
I take my usual position as far away from the line of fire as possible.
"Here, Stacey!" Jenna says, tossing a ball to her.
Stacey misses and has to chase the ball down. She finally catches it when it bumps against my feet.
"Thanks for stopping it, Ida," Stacey says. "No problem," I reply.
"Do you want to stand up front with us?" Stacey asks.
"No," I say. "I prefer to stand in back and keep my teeth inside my head."
"Get back up here, Stacey!" Jenna yells.
Stacey picks up the ball and hurries back to the center line. She stands next to Jenna, shifting back and forth like there are thumbtacks in her sneakers.
Ms. Stein blows her whistle.
Stacey thr
ows the ball as hard as she can. But it barely makes it across the center line. Randi snatches it up and chucks it back. It nails Stacey in the leg. She crumples to her knees.
"Gotcha, Stace!" Randi calls.
Ms. Stein blows her whistle and points to Stacey. "Benched!" she shouts.
Meanwhile, Jenna whips a ball at Jolene, knocking her out of the competition. "I thought you said you were good?" Jenna says to Stacey as she scoops up another ball.
Stacey just shrugs and limps to the sidelines. She sits down on the floor, looking relieved.
I'm so busy watching Stacey, I don't notice Quinn zeroing in on me. A ball slams into my shoulder, sending me into a death spin.
"Get off the floor before you trip someone!" Jenna yells at me.
"Aye, aye, Captain," I say, and crawl out of the game.
I sit next to Stacey. We watch the action for a few minutes, and then I hear her say, "Actually, I'm not that crazy about dodgeball."
"Actually, I'm not either," I reply.
"I'm better at individualized sports," she says. "Like dance."
"I'm better at civilized sports," I say back. "Like checkers."
It isn't long before the only people still playing are Zane and Jenna on our team and Randi on the other team.
Jenna throws a ball hard at Randi, but it whizzes past her.
Randi bullets a ball at Zane. It ricochets off his hip and hits Jenna square in the stomach. She goes down like a sack of flour.
"Gotcha!" Randi hollers. She does a little victory dance.
Ms. Stein blows her whistle. "The winners!" she shouts, pointing to Randi's team.
Jenna scrambles to her feet and gives Zane a shove.
"What was that for?" Zane asks.
"For losing the game," Jenna says, stomping off the floor.
Ms. Stein forces us to play three more games of dodgeball. For the last game, Jenna positions Stacey in back with me and moves the Dylans up front with her. Stacey doesn't seem to mind.
***
When I get home after school I read Stacey's note to George. "I wonder what her scary emergency is," I say. "And why she's friends with Jenna if she thinks she's mean."
I wait for George to comment. But he just stares at me with his big smile. "Maybe lying makes her feel better about the emergency," I say. "But I think she means it when she says she won't lie to me anymore."
I tuck the note away and get out my sketchbook.
I draw Stacey. And a big hairy monster with multiple eyes and large claws chasing her.
Then I draw me, pelting it with stones.
That night, when my dad is tucking me in, I say, "Dad? What are you scared of?"
My dad thinks for a minute. Then he says, "War. Tornadoes. Leather gloves."
"Leather gloves?"
My dad nods. "When I was your age, a bully at my school named Allen Bentley wore leather gloves every day of the year. He'd come up behind me on the playground, grab my neck, and squeeze until I choked. Then he'd say, 'Outta my way, May flower," and push me to the ground."
"What did you do? I mean, did you tell on Allen Bentley?"
"Nope," my dad says. "Not until today." He smiles at me. "Funny, but I suddenly feel better about leather gloves."
My dad pulls the covers up to my chin. "Is there anything you want to tell me about, Ida? Anything scary?"
I think of all the scary stuff I could tell him about. Elizabeth moving away. Jenna being mean. Stacey's secret emergency. But telling him about it feels scary, too.
"No," I say. "Not tonight."
My dad gives me half a smile. "All right, then. Good night, Ida. Sleep tight."
"Same to you," I reply.
After my dad leaves, I crawl out of bed. I turn on my desk lamp and find a piece of paper and a pencil.
Dear Anastasia,
I'm not exactly scared to tell you who I really am. It just feels safer to be Cordelia for now.
But I am scared of Jenna Drews. I'm afraid her big, bossy head will explode and all her sawdust brains will shoot out and block the sun and we will have three gears of endless winter.
Cordelia
P.S. If you think Jenna's so mean, why are you friends with her?
P.P.S. I'm sorry about your scary emergency. I'm glad you told me the truth about it, even if you didn't tell me what it is.
Chapter 13
The next morning I don't mind waiting for the bus, or even sitting by myself on the way to school. I know that as soon as I get there, I will hide my note for Anastasia. Which I do.
And when recess comes and Jenna pulls Stacey, Meeka, Brooke, and Jolene off to the swings, leaving me behind, I don't feel so bad, because I know that Stacey will find a way to sneak off and that later in the day I will find another note in the secret stone from her.
Which I do.
Dear Cordelia,
I made up stories about myself because I wanted to make friends fast. But now I have to keep making up new stories because I'm afraid Jenna will be mean to me if she finds out that I'm not very interesting after all.
Here's a story I started last night:
Once upon a time, two girls were lost in a deep, dark forest. They walked for hours until they came to a little lake that was shaped like a spoon. There was a sign posted by the lake with a poem that read:
Spoon of the lake,
Spoon of the sea,
Carry me off
To afternoon tea.
So the girls said the poem together and then stepped onto the lake. They floated across it and they didn't even get wet.
I love making up stories like that, don't you? What do you think should happen next?
Anastasia
There isn't time for me to answer Stacey right away. Besides, I could never write something as good as she did on short notice. So I tuck the note in my pocket and head back to class.
Since it's Thursday, we have show-and-tell. This happens once a week and we are not required to bring anything if we don't want to. And guess what? I don't.
But Brooke walks to the front of the class and places a glittery crown on her head. "This is a genuine rhinestone tiara," she brags, pointing to her head. "I won it last summer at the statewide Little Miss Showstopper contest. It would be bigger, but I came in second place because I missed one of the questions during the contest quiz."
"What question did you miss?" Randi asks.
Brooke clears her throat and pretends to speak into a microphone. "Who was the second president of the United States?"
"Easy," Jenna says. "Everyone knows it was Abraham Lincoln."
"Wasn't he the sixteenth president?" Stacey asks.
Jenna gives Stacey a look. "No," she says. "Lincoln came in second."
"Just like me!" Brooke says, tilting her tiara to catch the light. "Now, as I was saying—"
"You're wrong, Jenna," Tom interrupts. Jenna whips around and stares Tom down.
Tom gulps, but then he continues. "John Adams was the second president. Followed by Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe—"
"All right, all right," Jenna cuts Tom off. "Nobody likes a know-it-all."
"You can say that again," I mumble.
After Brooke demonstrates the talent she performed for the contest (whistling "The Star-Spangled Banner" while tap-dancing), she waltzes back to her desk.
Quinn gets up next and shows a bird skull. "I found it last weekend," he says.
"That's nothing," Jenna butts in. "When my family went camping last summer I found an entire deer skeleton."
"That's great, Jenna," Mr. Crow says patiently. "But right now it's Quinn's turn to speak."
Jenna clamps her mouth shut and slumps back in her chair.
When Quinn is done showing his bird skull, Mr. Crow says, "Anyone else?"
Stacey slowly raises her hand. She walks up front and pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket. "This is a poem I wrote last night," she says. She takes a deep breath and begins reading from the paper.
A friend is
someone special.
A friend is someone true.
A friend can make you laugh,
When you're feeling blue.
A friend is always with you,
Every hour of every day.
A friend is still a friend,
Even when you're far away.
When Stacey is done reading, everyone applauds. "Well done, Stacey!" Mr. Crow says. "May I post your poem on the board?" Stacey nods, and gives the poem to him.
She sits back down. Jenna smiles at Stacey like she wrote the poem for her.
But Stacey glances away from Jenna. And smiles down at her desk instead.
After school, I take Anastasia's note home with me and write my reply.
Dear Anastasia,
You are a really good writer. I don't write much because I'm saving mg brain for middle school. But I do Like to draw. So here is a picture of what I think happens next in your story.
I think for a minute and then I draw a picture of two girls riding on the back of a cow. The cow is speckled with stars and it's walking through a field of yellow daisies. Then I draw a little cottage in the distance. It's covered with moss and vines and absolutely nothing hairy or slimy.
Now it's your turn to finish the story.
Cordelia
P.S. What do you Like to do when you aren't writing? Remember, you can't Lie.
The next morning, I leave the note in the secret stone. Later that afternoon, I get Anastasia's reply.
Dear Cordelia,
Your drawing is great! I'm going, to hang it up in my bedroom. I hope you don't mind.
Here's the rest of the story:
After the girls rode the enchanted cow to the cottage, they went inside and found a round table covered with a white lacy tablecloth. Hot tea and honey steamed in a china teapot on the table, and little plates of cookies and candies waited to be eaten. So they sat down and ate and laughed and drank tea together until evening came. Then they floated back across the spoon lake, leaving a trail of daisies behind so they could always find their way back. The End.