Fiddlesticks by Beverly Lewis

ONE
    Shawn Hunter tuned his violin.
    â€œReady to practice?” his American sister asked.
    â€œAlmost.” Shawn tucked the violin under his chin. He smiled at Abby. “Now ready.”
    Abby held the music. “High enough?”
    â€œVery good,” Shawn said. It came out like velly good.
    Shawn was still learning to speak English. His first language was Korean. Abby’s parents had adopted him.

    It was hard getting used to a new country. And a new school. But music lessons weren’t new. Shawn, whose Korean name was Li Sung Jin, loved music. Mostly violin music.
    â€œI start now,” Shawn said.
    He drew the bow across the strings. A soaring melody filled the living room.
    Abby tapped her toe to the music.
    Suddenly, Shawn stopped playing.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” asked Abby.
    â€œSomething missing,” Shawn said.
    He set his violin and bow on the sofa. He hurried down the hall to his bedroom.
    Soon, he returned with his soccer ball.
    â€œWhat’s that for?” Abby asked.
    â€œBall help balance me,” Shawn said.
    He picked up his violin and bow. He set his right foot on top of the soccer ball. “That better.”
    Abby giggled.
    Shawn began to play again.
    He practiced major scales. Next he reviewedtwo old songs. He worked on two new ones.
    Over and over he practiced. Shawn loved playing his violin. As much as he loved playing soccer.
    Shawn liked to dribble and punt. Sometimes he practiced in his big backyard. Mostly when no one was watching.
    Practicing in secret wasn’t easy. But Shawn was determined to play with the Blossom Hill Blitzers. The team was named for Shawn’s school. He wasn’t sure what Blitzers meant. But it sounded good. Fast too.

    When Shawn finished practicing his violin, Abby clapped. “You sound double dabble good!” she said.
    â€œThank you.” Shawn gave a stiff bow.
    Woof!
    Abby looked at their dog, Snow White.“What’s the matter with you?” she asked the floppy-eared pet.
    Shawn laughed his high-pitched laugh. “Snow White not like violin music.”
    â€œBad dog,” Abby scolded. She went over and tickled her paws. She was lying on her back. All four legs were sticking up. “Shawn makes nice music,” she told Snow White. “You don’t have to play dead.”
    Shawn was still laughing. “Snow White need music lesson. She not understand.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Abby said. She put the music away.
    Shawn stopped laughing. Now he spoke softly. “Some people not understand, too.”
    â€œWhat?” Abby asked.
    â€œIs not important,” Shawn muttered into his violin case.
    Abby insisted. “What did you say?”
    Shawn was silent.
    He put his violin away. Snap! The lid clicked shut.
    Abby sat on the floor and touched Shawn’s arm. “Something’s bugging you,” she said. “You can’t fool me.”
    Shawn sat beside her. “Abby good sister and chingu.”
    â€œFriends talk to each other,” Abby said.
    Shawn sighed. His dark, almondshaped eyes grew serious. He pushed his hand through his black hair.
    â€œI not fit in. America hard place for Korean kid. With violin,” he added quickly.
    â€œIt takes time getting used to a new culture. But don’t give up,” Abby pleaded. She looked at him. “Are kids at school making fun of you?”
    Shawn nodded sadly. “They have nickname for me.”
    Abby frowned. “What are they calling you?”
    Shawn’s eyes popped open. “Abby mad?”
    â€œYes, I’m mad!” She stood up. “What’s the nickname?”
    â€œThey say make-fun name,” he said. “They say, ‘fiddlesticks.’ Because I skinny and . . . and small. And play violin. Boys not play violin in America?”
    â€œOf course they do,” Abby said. She puffed air through her lips. “Who’s calling you