Nuts About Science

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Nuts About Science Page 3

by Michelle Houts


  “Come here, Lucy!” Cora calls. “Look at this.”

  It’s Miss Flippo’s ALL-ABOUT-ME Tree. Her favorite color changes with her mood. Her favorite book is The Giant Golden Book of Biology, An Introduction to the Science of Life. I’ll have to see if Aunt Darian has that at the library. On the branch that says “Do You Have Any Pets?” Miss Flippo has written “2 dogs—Buzz and Sally.”

  “Read this,” Cora whispers, pointing to the branch that says, “Something You Probably Don’t Know About Me.”

  “I have been to outer space,” I read out loud.

  Cora and I stare at each other.

  “There’s only one possible explanation for this,” Cora says, her eyes huge and round. “Our teacher is an alien!”

  Chapter Ten

  The Cosmic Truth

  Back inside Room 2-C, I stare at Miss Flippo. She’s talking about our habitat projects, but all I can do is look at the shape of her head. Could Cora be right? Aliens are from space. Normal people are from normal places. Like Granite City. Or Beijing. Or Mexico City.

  I squint to see Miss Flippo better, but I feel like someone else is staring. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cora squinting, too. Not at Miss Flippo. At me!

  “Do you see it?” Cora mouths to me.

  “Your group will be based on the habitat I assign you,” Miss Flippo says. She’s looking my way.

  Cora tries again, not making a sound. “She’s an alien, isn’t she?”

  I give her my best you-better-not-get-us-in-trouble face, but all that does is get Stewart Swinefest’s attention.

  “What’s wrong with your face?” he blurts out.

  “Stewart, please remember to raise your hand if you have something to say.” Miss Flippo gives him a stern look. “Let’s all keep our eyes and ears up front.”

  Cora turns back toward Miss Flippo. Miss Flippo does have great big eyes, but—

  “All right, listen for your name, please.”

  Miss Flippo reads aloud from a list in her hand. Collin, Carl, Bridget, and Sarah are Rainforests. Heather, Georgia, Gavin, and Manuel are the Arctic. Cora gives me a shrug when she’s called, along with Ming, Logan, and Eddie to be Woodlands. Jack and Brody cheer when they find out they are Oceans, along with Natalie and Annalisa. Pretty soon, it’s down to Stewart, Ajay, Tessa, and me. The good news is we get to be Deserts. The bad news is Stewart Swinefest. He’s always bad news.

  For the next half hour, we get into our habitat groups and make a list of questions we want to research. Ajay writes the list down while Tessa and I give him lots of good questions. Stewart just keeps talking about how the desert is full of bones of people who died without water.

  “You watch too much television,” I say.

  Stewart points to Mr. Bones. “Ask him. He’ll tell ya.”

  When Miss Flippo calls the class together again, she tells us more about habitats. “Not long ago, I had the opportunity to visit a place that is not a good habitat for most living organisms. Can you guess where that might be?”

  No one raises their hand. Even Stewart doesn’t have a smart-mouthed answer.

  “The North Pole?” Logan finally tries.

  “No,” says Miss Flippo, “although it is very difficult for humans to live in the polar regions, there are some species that thrive there. And I’m sure our Arctic group will discover and share some of them with us.”

  All of a sudden, it hits me like a meteor falling right out of the sky.

  “Outer space!” I blurt out. My hand was most of the way up when the words came out.

  My teacher smiles. “Yes, Lucy!”

  Everyone in Room 2-C starts talking at once.

  “Shh, class. We have all year to talk about my participation in the Educator Astronaut Project, but right now, we need to line up for music.”

  This is even better than Cora thought. Our teacher’s not an alien.

  Miss Flippo’s an astronaut!

  Chapter Eleven

  Welcome to My Lab

  After school Cora and I head straight to my lab. I can’t wait to show it to her.

  She looks around for a minute.

  “It’s just your playhouse with your play kitchen moved around.”

  Why is it that if you say the word queen, Cora has a wonderful imagination, but if you show her a science lab, she can’t see past the wooden refrigerator?

  “Well, it isn’t quite finished yet. I need specimens. Then it’ll look more like a lab.”

  Cora looks at the sunglasses/goggles and puts them on. I have to admit they look like sunglasses, not goggles.

  “Here,” I say. “I even have a white lab coat for you.”

  I hand her one of the white shirts my dad wears when he has to dress up, and she puts it on over her pink shirt. I put one on, too.

  “It’s kind of plain,” she says. “Doctors have their names on their coats. Do scientists?”

  I think about it. I don’t know if they do or not, but it seems like a good idea. We take the shirts off and use permanent markers and our best handwriting to spell our names above the front pockets. I choose brown and Cora uses pink. When I notice she’s adding purple curlicues to hers, I put the markers away.

  Then we put our lab coats back on.

  “Now, what?” Cora asks.

  “Now, we get to work on our report for Mrs. James and the PTA.”

  “Okay,” says Cora. “Only, let’s do it together. I’ll write and draw some oak trees and you give me the facts.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  We sit down at my lab table, and I open up the tree book I got from the library then hand Cora three sheets of notebook paper and a pencil.

  “See? My lab has everything!”

  Cora nods and takes another look around. “I know one thing your lab doesn’t have.”

  I frown. My lab is perfect! It has everything a scientist needs.

  “You don’t have a Mr. Bones,” Cora says.

  Except that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Good News, Bad News

  A whole week goes by after I give Mrs. James the very convincing report Cora and I wrote. When I read it to my mom, she said her university students couldn’t have done a better job.

  Cora and I used the computer and my tree book from the library, and we found some pretty good stuff—I mean information. I was right about squirrels depending on giant, old trees like the one that used to be at the school. Big trees provide shelter, safety from predators (especially predators like Sloan that can’t climb), and food. We found out squirrels are nuts about nuts. When the report was finished, I was sure it would earn the school a new tree.

  In Room 2-C, our habitat projects are really looking great! On Wednesday, Miss Flippo assigns each group an area of the classroom. The Meeting Place is now the Arctic. The front of the room turns into a rainforest, with vines and even a fake anaconda snaking its way over the door.

  Ajay, Tessa, and I start to turn the Book Nook into a desert. On Thursday, Tessa brings in a great inflatable cactus she found at the everything-for-a-dollar store. I have three big zip-close bags of sand from Thomas’s sandbox and an old plastic tablecloth so the custodian doesn’t throw a fit. Ajay comes in with some great dead weeds that look like tumbleweeds if we roll them into a ball. So far, Stewart isn’t helping much. He brings in some chicken bones.

  When I get to school on Thursday morning, Mrs. James and her great big glasses are waiting for me.

  “I don’t have any signs today,” I tell her. I don’t tell her that I’ve been thinking about holding another Convincing to convince the PTA to hurry up and make a decision about my tree. I mean, the school’s tree.

  “That’s good news.” Mrs. James does that sighing thing again. “Actually, I have news for you.”

  I squint a little. It’s something I do when I’m trying to guess what someone is about to say. “Good news? Or bad news?”

  “A little of both,” Mrs. James replies. “Which would you like to hear fi
rst?”

  I sigh, too. “Hit me with the bad.” My dad always says to take the bad first, so that the good helps the bad not feel quite so bad.

  “Well, the PTA has allocated all their funds for the fall to the school Harvest Festival.”

  “Allo-what?” I ask.

  “Allocated,” Mrs. James says. “It means the money they have is already spoken for.”

  Oh, that is bad news. No money means no tree.

  “Okay, so what’s the good news, then?” I ask

  “Well, one of the parents on the Harvest Festival committee is also a member of the Granite City Garden Club. They have agreed to donate a tree to our school.”

  “Hey, my Convincing worked!” I think my voice is louder than it’s supposed to be inside school, but who is Mrs. James going to report me to? She’s the principal!

  Mrs. James is smiling now. “Yes, and just as you requested in your very thorough report, it will be a white oak.”

  “Good. Because red oaks die really quickly from oak wilt.”

  “I know, Lucy. You did the research, and we appreciate that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say proudly.

  “And,” says Mrs. James, “we are planning a tree-planting ceremony tomorrow afternoon. I wondered if you and Cora would like to represent the students at the ceremony.”

  I think for a long time.

  “Will I get to give a speech?”

  “No, Lucy. No speeches.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it, but …”

  Mrs. James’s eyebrows show up over her glasses again.

  “… do they have to plant the new tree in exactly the same place as the old tree?”

  Mrs. James thinks for a minute. “No, I suppose not. Is there a better place?”

  “Oh, yes! It should be planted right outside the windows of the second grade classrooms!”

  “Well, Lucy, I’ll see what can be done,” says Mrs. James. “It’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock, in front of the school.”

  On my way inside, I have to remind myself to use walking feet. I can’t wait to tell Cora about the new tree.

  But how do you plant a giant oak tree? It’s going to take some mighty big equipment!

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Tree-Planting Ceremony

  At dinner, I tell Mom and Dad and Thomas about the tree and how well the Convincing worked.

  “Well done, Lucy!” Dad says.

  Thomas makes a loud, buzzing noise, and a piece of broccoli falls over on his plate.

  “See what happens when a group of like-minded people peacefully share their opinions in an organized fashion?” Mom asks, beaming.

  More sawing comes from Thomas’s direction, and another piece of broccoli falls.

  “Thomas, what are you doing?” Dad asks.

  “Cutting down trees.”

  “Well, cut them all down, and then eat them all up,” Mom tells him. I think Mom knows that’s probably not going to happen.

  “They’re going to plant the new tree tomorrow, and Cora and I get to be the student representatives.”

  “Wonderful,” Dad says. “What will you have to do as the student representatives?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe run the digger.”

  Mom and Dad laugh like something is very funny. Thomas cuts down more broccoli.

  The next morning, I’m ready extra early. I can’t wait to find out how the Granite City Garden Club is going to plant a giant oak tree in front of our school. I’m thinking it could involve a helicopter. Or maybe two.

  When I get off the bus, I don’t see any large equipment. But I’m not worried. The tree-planting ceremony isn’t until three o’clock.

  On the way into the building, I notice something on the ground. I walk over to get a closer look. Right in the middle of the grass is a bird’s nest. It’s small and perfectly round. And it’s empty. I pick it up and look toward the sky. There are no trees in front of the building. It must have blown here from the other side of the schoolyard.

  I’m so interested in the nest, I don’t notice Stewart and Collin standing beside me.

  “What’s that?” Collin asks.

  Stewart answers, even though it’s my nest. “It’s just an old bird’s nest. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” I say. “It’s a specimen.”

  The boys laugh and run inside. Two weeks into the school year and they still don’t get the rule about walking feet.

  When I get to Room 2-C, I show my specimen to Miss Flippo, and she says she thinks it’s a sparrow’s nest, but she can’t be sure without seeing some eggs. She says I have a good eye for observation, and I should put it on the counter in the Science Lab. It actually fits nicely there because the Science Lab has been turned into our Woodland habitat.

  On my way to the back of the room, I pass Stewart and Collin.

  “It isn’t nothing,” I inform them. “It’s a sparrow’s habitat.”

  All morning, I glance out the window, but no backhoe yet. And no tree, either. What’s taking so long? Squirrels everywhere are counting on those Granite City Garden people to get that tree planted. I look at the clock a lot in the afternoon, and finally, at five minutes before three o’clock, Miss Flippo leads Room 2-C out the front doors of the school.

  Mrs. James and a man in a green hat are standing beside a little hole in the ground.

  When all the kids and teachers have gathered outside, Mrs. James asks for her helpers to come to the front of the crowd. That’s me and Cora.

  “Welcome to our tree planting ceremony!” Mrs. James announces. “It’s a special day at Granite City Elementary School.”

  Mrs. James may be talking, but my ears aren’t listening. Instead, my eyes are looking. Where’s the big tree? Where’s the big hole?

  I search the sky for the helicopter that’s going to bring the giant oak tree—the giant white oak tree—but there are no helicopters.

  And then I hear my name.

  “Isn’t that right, Lucy?”

  Huh?

  Mrs. James and her big, round glasses are looking at me. Cora is looking at me. The teachers are looking at me. The whole school is looking at me!

  Mrs. James sighs her big sigh. “Lucy?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “It is because of your convincing that we are here today. It was your idea to plant a new tree, yes?”

  “Uh, um, yes,” I say. “So, Mrs. James, where is the new tree?”

  The man in the green hat turns around and picks something up off the ground.

  “Here’s the tree,” he says, and I can’t believe my eyes. The man with the green hat isn’t holding a tree. He’s holding a—a—a—plant!

  “That’s not an oak tree!” I blurt out.

  Mrs. James’s eyebrows are back.

  The man in the green hat chuckles. “Sure it is. It’s a white oak seedling.”

  A seedling? A baby tree? How are squirrels supposed to run up and down a baby tree? How am I supposed to watch the squirrels from my second grade window run up and down a baby tree?

  Then Mrs. James puts the tiny tree in the tiny hole and hands me a tiny shovel.

  “Miss Lucy Watkins will now throw the first shovelful of dirt into the hole.”

  Cora holds the tiny tree steady while I take tiny bit of dirt and scoop it into the tiny hole.

  The whole school claps and cheers.

  For a seedling.

  Can you believe that?

  After the ceremony, when the kids from Room 2-C are back in their seats, Miss Flippo calls me up to her desk. She smiles really big at me.

  “You did a fine job, Lucy. I’m sure you’re very happy to see that new tree.”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound happy.”

  “I thought the tree would be bigger. Lots bigger. Big enough for the squirrels to play in.”

  “Oh, Lucy, it will be. One day, it will be tall and strong and mi
ghty just like the one that was cut down.”

  “But that’ll take a long, long time!”

  “You’re right. It’ll take years. Many years.”

  I let out a big sigh, just like Mrs. James.

  “Well, if I had known that I would have asked them to plant it outside of the high school!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Finishing Touches

  After school, Cora comes over to my house.

  “Whoa!” Cora stops in her tracks. “Look at your lab!”

  I smile.

  “I guess I have collected a few specimens since the last time you were here.”

  “A few? More like a ton!”

  It’s true. Since the last time Cora was here, I haven’t been able to pass up a rock or leaf or a cricket.

  I hand her the white lab coat with her name on it. She puts it on and I put mine on, too. We both have to roll the sleeves up or our hands would be missing.

  We sit at the table and look at all of my specimens.

  “What’s that?” Cora asks, pointing to a bone I found near the trash can last Wednesday.

  “It’s from some animal,” I tell her. “I think it’s probably extinct.” Actually, it might be a chicken bone from dinner last Tuesday, but that doesn’t sound very scientific. I think about Stewart and the chicken bones he brought for our Desert display. I guess he’s just trying to use his imagination.

  Cora really likes the three white feathers I found in the park.

  “Where do you think this feather came from?”

  “Let me examine it,” I say.

  Just last night, I found a magnifying glass sitting on Mom’s desk. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen her actually use it, so I borrowed it, just in case I needed to take a closer look at a specimen.

  “Hmm,” I say. When I put it under the magnifying glass, the little feather looks exactly the same. Just bigger.

  “Let me look,” says Cora. “Hmm.” She pushes her shoulders up to her ears and looks like a turtle. “I think it’s from a mythical bird whose magical powers come from the white feathers that grow straight up on the top of its head.”

 

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