“Oh, yeah, I remember ‘cornucopia,’ ” said Megan, making the shape of the horn with her hands. “But I forget how you spell it.”
“You spell it like it sounds,” Cindy said before she caught herself. “Oops, sorry, that was stupid of me.”
Megan didn’t mind. “You spell it like it sounds if you can hear it,” she said easily. She grabbed the list of spelling bee words from Cindy and searched for the word until she found the word. “Cornucopia,” said Megan. “C-o-r-n-u-c-o-p-i-a.” She dropped her hand onto the table and practiced the word once through, using the manual alphabet to let her hand feel the word.
“That’s no fair,” said Cindy, looking down at Megan’s hand.
“What’s no fair?”
“Spelling the word with your hand while you spell it with your mouth,” Cindy replied. “That’s cheating.”
“How is that cheating?” Megan demanded.
“We can’t write the word down when we spell it,” said Cindy.
“But I’m not writing,” Megan argued. “I’m spelling. I’m just spelling with my hand.”
“I still think that’s cheating.”
“No, it’s not,” Megan insisted. “Think what you want, but until Ms. Endee tells me that’s cheating, that’s how I spell.” She extended her arm until her hand almost touched Cindy’s nose. “So there,” she said, closing the subject by spelling “there” in Cindy’s face.
“There’s no point to competing in this year’s spelling bee, anyway,” Cindy said, pushing Megan’s hand away. “You know Alexis is going to win it. Miss Perfect wins everything.”
“That’s not true,” said Megan. “She doesn’t win everything. She’s only been here for three days. There hasn’t been that much to win.”
“Why are you defending her?” asked Cindy. “You’re the one she embarrassed on the playground with your birthday invitation.”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” said Megan. “I’m trying to forget it. I don’t even want to think about that.”
Cindy didn’t say anything. But she knew Megan, and she was thinking that it would probably take a lot of time to forget about that particular little incident.
“I’ve decided to give Alexis another second chance,” Megan announced.
Cindy could hardly believe her ears. “You’ve given that girl seven ‘second chances’ already.”
“So what?” Megan responded. “She’s the new girl!”
“So what? I was the new girl once. Nobody did me any favors!”
“My mom says I should give the new girl as many second chances as she wants!” Megan argued.
“What!” Cindy shrieked.
• • •
The night before, Megan had put a big pout on her face and approached her mother to talk about what had happened in school.
“What’s with the long face?” said Lainee, pinching Megan’s chin and stroking her cheek.
“I tried to give Alexis a birthday party invitation like you said,” Megan explained.
“Yes, and what happened?” Lainee asked.
“She wouldn’t even look at it,” said Megan.
“What!” said Lainee.
Megan took the opportunity to act out the story of the birthday invitation incident. She recreated the complete blow-by-blow of her exchange with Alexis so that her mother would know exactly what she said and what Alexis said—although, of course, Megan made Alexis seem meaner and much more unreasonable than she had actually been at the time.
Megan’s mother listened sympathetically. She stroked Megan’s hair and agreed that what had happened was awful. Nobody should have her own birthday party invitation pushed back in her face. By that point Megan had curled up into a ball in the crook of her mother’s arm. She felt better getting the story off her chest, but she was still confused about what to make of Alexis.
Megan’s mother offered to make Megan hot chocolate with extra minimarshmallows—the way Megan liked it. As Megan’s mother dropped the minimarshmallows into the mug, she asked Megan to think about how Alexis must have felt, being the new girl at a new school. She talked about what it was like to be shy. Megan’s mother confided that she herself had been rather shy when she was a young girl. Megan had never been shy, so perhaps Megan didn’t really understand.
Megan wondered whether she hadn’t been right the whole time about the new girl not liking her because she was deaf. But her mom insisted that probably wasn’t the case. And even if it were, there was nothing Megan could do to control other people’s reactions. Maybe, Lainee suggested, Megan could afford to be the bigger person about what had happened on the playground. After all, Megan had lots of friends at school and the new girl didn’t have any. By the time they were sharing the last chunks of marshmallow from the bottom of the mug, Megan had agreed to give Alexis a second chance. As many chances as Alexis wanted.
• • •
“But just yesterday you said Alexis was stuck up and conceited!” Cindy was still in a snit.
“I never said that,” Megan protested.
“You did so!”
“Okay,” Megan said, scanning the list of spelling words. “Maybe I said she was o-b-n-o-x-i-o-u-s.” She spelled the word in a flurry. “Obnoxious!”
Cindy laughed. She grabbed the list and searched for a good word. “An obnoxious . . . barracuda!” Cindy cried. “B-a-r-r-a-c-u-d-a!”
“She’s not an obnoxious barracuda,” said Megan. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, she’s still not very nice,” Cindy insisted.
“She’s shy, Cindy,” said Megan. “And she’s new! She doesn’t know how to behave.”
Cindy sighed. “Megan, you’re too accommodating,” she said. “A-c-c-o-m-m-o-d-a-t-i-n-g!”
Megan didn’t tell Cindy, but Megan had already given Alexis another chance. By complete coincidence Megan had been the person behind Alexis when they went through the cafeteria line at lunch that Wednesday afternoon.
Megan had watched as Alexis grabbed a container of chocolate milk from the tub of ice that the cafeteria ladies placed at the far end of the food display. Kids who knew the score at Wilmot Elementary knew that the containers on the top of the ice were never very cold. The containers underneath were always frosty cold. A new kid wouldn’t know that, Megan thought.
Megan stuck her hand deep into the freezing ice water and retrieved a colder container of chocolate milk. She nudged Alexis’s elbow with the ice-cold carton—and Alexis jumped. Megan offered her the milk without saying a word.
“But I already have one,” said Alexis, somewhat confused.
“This one is cold,” said Megan, and she shivered a bit to make sure she was understood.
Alexis smiled the slightest half smile and accepted the chocolate milk. She returned the other container to the top of the tub, but Megan reached for it and forced it underneath the ice.
“So that it’s cold for the next kid,” Megan explained.
“Thanks,” said Alexis.
With that, Alexis turned away and continued down the cafeteria line.
Megan touched Alexis’s elbow once more, to encourage her to come sit at a cafeteria table with Cindy and Casey and some of the other girls. But Alexis shook her head, with the same little smile, and headed for a spot on the patio.
Nothing really went wrong, but Megan was still confused. Alexis seemed more than shy. Alexis seemed determined not to make friends.
• • •
Megan managed to find another opportunity on Wednesday to give Alexis a second chance when Ms. Endee ran math drills with the students that afternoon. Megan’s class was supposed to have learned multiplication tables in the third grade—and most of them had—but Ms. Endee said it was important to cover them again before the class buckled down to the challenge of fractions. The class groaned dramatically at the mention of the word “fractions.” Anybody who ever set foot on a school playground knew about the mountains of homework involving fractions. To make math more fun, and
to help make fractions easy, Ms. Endee concocted her famous math drills. It was like doing basketball drills only with multiplication tables instead of a basketball.
Here’s how the drill went. Each student wore a paper number on his or her forehead. The students split up and formed one line at the far right and one line at the far left of the classroom. One kid stood at the whiteboard with a marker. When the two students at the head of the lines approached the front of the room, the kid with the marker had only a few seconds to multiply the two numbers and write the answer on the board. The rule was that kids could swap lines or not and even swap places in line so that the order of numbers kept changing as kids advanced to the board. Once the drill was under way the numbers came faster and faster. Jann stood ready with chalk to keep score.
Alexis did really well when she was at the board with the marker. Obviously she’d been pretty good at math before she got to Wilmot.
Megan was advancing through the line, wearing a number seven on her forehead. She lost track of Cindy in the chaotic rush of kids during the drill. As the lines pressed on toward the front of the room, Megan guessed that she was going to be matched up with Casey, who happened to be wearing a number seven as well.
Kids were giggling and getting a little rowdy. As the math drill pressed on, it always threatened to get a little out of control. Ms. Endee clapped her hands and insisted that the kids settle down or she was going to have to cancel the game. Alexis took the few extra moments to frantically write all the multiplication products on the whiteboard.
That was when Megan noticed that Alexis’s equations were turning from bright red to a pale thin pink, barely legible at all. The red marker that Alexis had been using was running dry.
Ms. Endee kept a fresh pack of markers in the bottom drawer of her file cabinet. But a new kid wouldn’t know that, thought Megan.
Risking the wrath of Ms. Endee and the loss of her place in the bustling line of kids pressing toward the board, Megan opened the bottom drawer of Ms. Endee’s file cabinet and snagged a fresh blue marker so that she had it ready to hand to Alexis when she and Casey reached the front of the room.
Alexis spotted the blue marker in Megan’s hand and quickly snatched it so that she could hurriedly write “7 x 7 = 49” on the board. Maybe it was because of the excitement of the moment, but she didn’t even pause to thank Megan. She didn’t even offer her usual little smile.
After two more equations Ms. Endee took the blue marker away from Alexis anyway and put Ronnie Jiu at the board. Alexis took her place in the rows of kids, and the game went on. Kids zigzagged across and crisscrossed the room so often that Megan and Alexis never got close to each other.
“I saw what you did,” said Cindy after the math drill was over.
“What are you talking about?” asked Megan.
“You gave the new girl a marker during the math drill.”
That Cindy, thought Megan. She notices everything.
“That was really nice of you,” Cindy offered.
“Thanks.”
“You said you were going to give her a second chance and you did.”
“And it wasn’t that hard,” Megan observed.
“True,” said Cindy with a slight sniff, “but she didn’t seem to appreciate it.”
“Cindy, you have to give Alexis a second chance too.”
“No I don’t,” said Cindy. “She was mean to my friend.”
“I’m the friend she was mean to,” said Megan, “and it doesn’t matter to me. You and I are going to give her a second chance together.”
“How many second chances does that girl get?” Cindy protested.
Megan put her hand on Cindy’s shoulder. “Cindy,” she said, with a little pat-pat-pat. “You’re the only one who’s counting.”
That afternoon at recess Megan and Cindy got up from their picnic table and headed across the playground toward where Alexis was sitting by herself on a stone ledge.
“Say something nice,” said Megan. “And find out if we have anything in common.”
“I do like that jacket she’s wearing today,” said Cindy. It was a blue denim jacket with red stars appliquéd on the sleeves.
“The jacket is fun, but she should wear more purple,” said Megan. “She looks good in purple.”
“You and purple,” muttered Cindy.
They were close enough at this point to look directly at Alexis, and they both smiled as they did. They picked up their pace as though they were headed toward Alexis with a purpose. At that same moment Alexis rose from her perch and headed directly for the bathroom like it was a big emergency.
Megan and Cindy stopped in their tracks. They exchanged a glance.
“What was that about?” asked Cindy. “I’m not going to chase her into the bathroom!”
“Maybe she had to go,” said Megan.
“Maybe,” said Cindy. “But at some point—you know—I get the hint.”
“What hint?” asked Megan.
“Maybe,” said Cindy, “she just doesn’t like us.”
• • •
It didn’t help matters when Ms. Endee conducted the classroom spelling bee on Thursday. Ms. Endee stood at a podium, reciting the contest words in a very official manner. Jann stood beside the teacher, signing the general meaning of Ms. Endee’s remarks but not the specific contest words. The situation was a little tricky. Megan had to rely on her ability to read lips to get the contest words. Otherwise Jann would have been spelling the words for her in advance using the manual alphabet and there would have been no contest for Megan at all.
Cindy had to be dropped in the opening rounds when she stumbled over the word “referendum.” But Megan surprised herself. She made it all the way to the classroom quarterfinals. In fact, it was down to Casey, Ronnie Jiu, Megan—and Alexis.
Casey correctly spelled “privilege.”
Ronnie Jiu correctly spelled “establishment.”
Megan grinned. “Privilege” and “establishment” were easy to spell, so Megan figured Ms. Endee was giving them an easy round.
Ms. Endee turned toward Megan and said, “Tandoori.”
“Tandoori?” said Megan. “I don’t even know what it is!”
“You may ask for a definition,” Ms. Endee suggested. Jann signed the suggestion.
“May I have a definition?” said Megan.
“Tandoori is an Indian dish,” said Ms. Endee.
Megan waited for Jann’s sign language translation. Jann thought for a moment, then she signed the phrase, “It is a dish from India,” and she spelled the word “India” slowly and carefully.
Oh, great, thought Megan.
“Would you use it in a sentence, please?” said Megan.
“I’ll have the tandoori chicken, please,” said Ms. Endee, and the whole class laughed. Jann signed the sound of laughter—and then she signed the phrase as, “I’ll have the—spelling word—chicken, please.”
Megan took a stab at a spelling, but tried “t-a-n-d-u-r-i-e.” Megan’s only chance at remaining in the spelling bee was if Alexis misspelled her word. Then they’d be in a sudden heat, and Megan would stand another chance at the semifinals.
“All right, Alexis,” said Ms. Endee. “If you spell this word correctly, you’ll go on to our semifinals. If you miss, then you and Megan will be in a sudden heat.”
The class cooed with excitement.
“Are you ready, Alexis?” asked Ms. Endee, shamelessly building the suspense.
“I’m ready,” said Alexis.
Megan crossed her fingers. Make it a tough word, she thought. Make it something impossibly difficult.
“Alexis,” said Ms. Endee, with a dramatic pause, “would you please spell the word ‘cornucopia’?”
Alexis smiled.
5
Nowhere to Hide
“NOT FAIR,” SAID CINDY. “IT’S not fair! to-tally not fair!”
“It was the luck of the draw,” said Megan. “Fair is fair.”
“But cornucopia wa
s your word!”
“It’s everybody’s word,” said Megan. “Nobody owns it.”
“What is up with you?” asked Cindy. “I think you’re glad Alexis won the spelling bee.”
“She didn’t win,” Megan responded. “She beat me, true. But Ronnie Jiu won.”
“Only because Alexis forgot about ‘i before e except after c,’ ” said Cindy.
The final word had been “perceive,” a total softball as far as Megan was concerned. But Alexis had blown it. She was headed in the right direction, but then she took a wrong turn after the c, and, well, the rest is spelling bee history. Ronnie Jiu had stepped forward and spelled “perceive” as easily as if he’d been spelling his own name.
Ms. Endee said, “I’m sorry, Alexis.”
Ronnie Jiu smirked with confidence. Alexis simply shrugged.
“It was a pretty stupid mistake, if you think about it,” Megan observed. “I before e! Who doesn’t know ‘I before e except after c’!”
“True,” said Cindy. “Maybe Alexis is human after all.”
“Or maybe she didn’t want to win,” said Megan.
Both girls fell quiet. It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to them before. Could Alexis have deliberately thrown the final round of the spelling bee to avoid drawing attention to herself? Could anybody be that shy?
“Nah, it couldn’t be,” said Cindy. “Not where there are blue ribbons and trophies involved.”
“You never know,” said Megan.
• • •
Everyone in the fourth grade was allowed to pick his or her own book to read and write a report on.
Megan enjoyed reading. In fact, Megan read so many books that she could have written a report on a book she’d already read. But she enjoyed books so much that she wanted to read something new.
Megan was the kind of reader who relied on other readers’ recommendations. She was searching through the library for a copy of Island of the Blue Dolphins that her mother had recommended. When Megan happened to mention her mother’s recommendation, Jann got all excited. “That’s one of my favorite books,” Jann said.
Nobody's Perfect Page 4