EllRay Jakes and the Beanstalk by Sally Warner Page B

including some by Hans Christian Andersen and the Brothers Grimm.”
    â€œFor babies,” Jared cough-says into his hand, and a few seats away, Kevin nods.
    Cynthia Harbison’s hand shoots up into the air. She is like our class’s girl version of Jared, only cleaner and smaller. Her first best friend is Heather Patton, who thinks Cynthia is perfect in every way.
    I hear Ms. Sanchez sigh, because she has barely gotten started yet. “Yes, Cynthia?” she asks.
    Cynthia stands up like she’s about to make an important announcement of her own. “But Ms. Sanchez, it’s Friday,” she says. “And we always start new things on Monday, not Friday.”
    Heather nods as Cynthia sits back down.
    â€œWell, I want you all to get a head start on the assignment over the weekend,” Ms. Sanchez explains.
    A couple of boys groan, like now their whole weekend is going to be ruined thinking about
fables
, but some of the girls are looking interested. “I love stories like that,” Annie Pat Masterson whispers. She has red hair and sits next to me.
    â€œMe too,” her best friend, Emma McGraw, agrees.
    â€œLet’s all quiet down,” Ms. Sanchez says, by which she means us, not her. “It is not yet time for discussion. First I want to tell you about the assignment.”
    Some kids get out their pencils and pens so they can take notes, but not me. I may be the shortest kid in our class, boy
or
girl, but I’m a very good rememberer.
    â€œBefore we go any further, though,” Ms. Sanchez says with a sharp glance in Jared’s direction, “I think I should tell you that these stories aren’t for babies. Far from it, in fact. Why, I read an old story from Hans Christian Andersen in which a man’s head was cut off and buried in a flowerpot!”
    â€œEww,” a chorus of voices says, like they’ve been rehearsing all morning.
    Okay. I can tell Ms. Sanchez didn’t mean to scare us, telling us this story. She was just trying to get some of the guys interested. But I think I’ll stay away from Hans Christian Andersen from now on, whoever he is. He sounds like he should be rated R.
    Heather Patton starts to chew the end of the skinny little braid that usually hangs down one of her cheeks. She is eyeing with alarm the two flowerpots Ms. Sanchez keeps on our windowsill. One has a sprouted avocado pit in it, and the other is growing sweet potato vines.
Supposedly
.
    But no, I tell myself. Those pots aren’t big enough to hold a human head.
    â€œReading all those old stories got me thinking about why they still mean something to us today,” Ms. Sanchez says, perching on the edge of her desk, one pointy-toed shoe swinging. Fiona McNulty is the best artist in our class, as well as the shyest kid, and she usually keeps a fashion notebook about everything Ms. Sanchez wears. But I think she’s too grossed-out about that human head story to get out her notebook and start drawing.
    I’m not the best
anything
, except maybe the best loser of friends.
    Unless I put up a fight, that is. Maybe I should have waved back at Kevin?
    I’M CONFUSED.
    â€œAnd here’s your assignment,” our Ms. Sanchez continues, and she goes to the white board and starts writing.
This weekend, find a folk tale or fairy tale or fable or old story that you think says something about you, either your past, present, or future.
Write it down. Look up more details about your story online, or in books you have at home. Write those details down, too.
Think about why this story is special to you.
On Monday, we will work together in class, and each of you will add your own personal story to your tale. And later in the week, you will get to illustrate your story!
    Fiona looks excited about that last part.
    â€œLet me give you an example,” Ms. Sanchez says, returning to her desk. “Let’s say I was doing this assignment. I might think, ‘Hmm. What