by Sally Warner
Stanley and Kevin sit up straighter in their chairs and try to look modest.
“In fact, I’m almost terrible at it,” I say. “But Die, Creature, Die is the newest game I have, and it’s really fun to play. And my ‘personal best’ is getting better, and that’s what this announcement is about.”
Ms. Sanchez relaxes a little, but most of the rest of the kids in class just look confused.
“Big deal,” Cynthia cough-says into her hand.
“In case you didn’t know,” I say, talking over her, “‘personal best’ means how much you improve at something, competing only against yourself. And improving takes time. You have to keep working at stuff to get better. You have to keep on trying, no matter how bad things look.”
“Very good, EllRay,” Ms. Sanchez says in a quiet voice as she beams at me.
“And another thing,” I add, before she can call me sweetie again, or suggest that I sit down, “is that nobody can take your personal best away from you. Not if you don’t let them. Like, if someone else is having trouble with their game, well I’m sorry, but that’s their problem. No matter how perfect they usually are.”
Cynthia Harbison slides down low in her chair.
“The end,” I say, because I can’t think of how else to finish my speech.
And I walk back to my chair—on bouncier feet this time.
A few of the kids in my class wriggle in their seats, as if they are silently saying, “Huh? What was that about?”
But a couple of kids have figured it out.
“Well, I have an announcement to make, too,” Ms. Sanchez says. “It’s about a certain young man I know. Now, this young man happens to be such a gentleman that when his four-year-old sister accidentally killed someone else’s pet fish, he took the blame for it, regardless of how bad that made him look.”
There is another wriggle in our class, and the kids look at the empty fish bowl as if they expect Zip magically to reappear and take a final bow. Maybe with little wings and a halo like a cartoon angel, I don’t know.
“And yes,” Ms. Sanchez continues, still not looking at anyone in particular. “This young man may once have forgotten to bring a book he borrowed back to class, but nobody’s perfect, are they?”
Cynthia clamps her lips shut until they are just a skinny pink line. You can tell this is not her favorite saying.
“But this particular young man had a lot on his mind that day,” Ms. Sanchez is saying. “And, may I mention, he obviously loved that book. Why, he finished the entire thing during spring break! I could tell that by looking at the very fine map he drew.”
Now I’m the one sinking down in my chair, because she is talking about Treasure Island. And my map. And me.
“This is also a very loyal young man, ladies and gentlemen,” Ms. Sanchez continues as my cheeks get hotter. “He doesn’t blame others when he makes a mistake. He is a valued member of this classroom community. And as far as the principal and I are concerned, his reputation is spotless.”
The principal! Spotless!
“And now,” Ms. Sanchez says, “because this is a democracy, I’d like for you all to elect a member of this class to go out and buy our next class mascot with this money.” And she gets a five dollar bill out of her purse. “But it has to be a goldfish,” she adds quickly, seeing the gleam in a few kids’ eyes as they are obviously thinking, “Rat!” “Tarantula!” “Bright green snake!”
Emma raises her hand. “I nominate EllRay Jakes to buy our class’s official new fish,” she says when Ms. Sanchez calls on her.
This is really nice of Emma, considering that Annie Pat, Emma’s best friend, wants to be the marine biologist—a fish expert—when she grows up, like I said before. But Annie Pat doesn’t even look mad.
Kevin’s and Corey’s hands go up at the same time. “I second the nomination,” Corey says, after Ms. Sanchez calls his name.
“Are there any other nominations?” Ms. Sanchez asks.
Heather Patton looks at Cynthia, as if asking whether or not Cynthia wants to compete against me for this honor, but Cynthia has just about disappeared, she has slumped so low in her chair.
She’s staring straight ahead—at nothing. But perfectly, of course.
I actually feel sorry for her.
“Then we’ll vote,” Ms. Sanchez says, glancing at the wall clock to see how much time we have left. “All in favor of EllRay Jakes selecting our next goldfish this weekend say ‘AYE.’”
And a ragged chorus of “ayes” floats around the room.
“Opposed?” Ms. Sanchez asks, and I wait for the “nays” to boom out.
Only there aren’t any.
Cynthia and Heather may be thinking “nay,” but that doesn’t count.
“Then EllRay it is,” Ms. Sanchez says, smiling as she hands me the five dollars. “Don’t you lose that, mister,” she whispers so softly that only I can hear.
“I won’t,” I whisper back, smiling so wide that it feels like my ears might fall off. This is the first time I have ever won an election! It feels good.
The end-of-school buzzer sounds, and, too late, Annie Pat claps her hands over her sensitive pink ears.
“Get those progress reports signed this weekend, people,” Ms. Sanchez calls out over the uproar that is us, getting ready to escape Oak Glen Primary School for a beautiful and precious weekend.
“Okay,” a couple of dutiful kids call out.
But me and my friends are already halfway out the door—and on to the next fun thing.
I am going to remember to get that progress report signed, though.
And I won’t lose Ms. Sanchez’s five dollars, no matter what.
And I’ll buy our class the best official new fish possible.
People are counting on me!
MEET ELLRAY JAKES, the smallest kid in Ms. Sanchez’s third grade class. But what EllRay lacks in size, he makes up for in personality. This can get him into trouble, though, which is why his report cards sometimes say, “BEHAVIOR: NEEDS IMPROVEMENT.” To help him stay on track, EllRay’s parents propose a family trip to Disneyland if he can stay out of trouble for one week. That should be easy, right? WRONG! This is the same week Jared, the biggest kid in class, declares WAR on him. There is no way EllRay is going to let Jared call him a chicken or get in the way of his going to Disneyland.
ELLRAY JAKES IS a small kid with a big problem. Everyone else in his third-grade class has something to brag about: Jared’s dad owns a brand-new car with flames painted on it, and Kevin’s dad is rich, but all EllRay’s geologist dad has is a collection of rocks. BORING! Or is it? They are from all over the world … and when EllRay brings some of the rocks into school, everyone is impressed. In fact, they’re so impressed, they keep them for themselves! Now EllRay needs a plan to rescue his dad’s rocks … before his big problem lands him in GIGANTIC trouble.