Fiddlesticks by Beverly Lewis Page A

fiddlesticks?”
    â€œKids who not like me,” Shawn said.
    Abby nodded. “I figured that, but who?”
    â€œI not say.” Shawn got up and walked toward the kitchen.
    â€œHey, come back!” Abby called.
    But Shawn didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
    There was a big lump in his throat.

TWO
    The next day was Friday, March first.
    Miss Hershey made an announcement to the class. “Today is the beginning of Music in Our Schools Month.”
    Shawn grinned. ‘‘Very good,” he whispered.
    Abby smiled at him across the row.
    Shawn thought, Music month great idea.
    Miss Hershey talked about composers. Famous ones. “The Three B’s,” she called them. Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms.
    She wrote on the chalkboard: Bach has a birthday this month.
    â€œWho knows when this composer was born?” the teacher asked.
    Shawn sat up straight. “Yes!” he said. “1685, very long time.”
    Miss Hershey smiled. “Thank you, Shawn. That’s correct. March 21, 1685. A long time ago, indeed.” She wrote the date on the board.
    While her back was turned, some kids made faces at Shawn. “Fiddlesticks,” they said.
    Abby heard.
    So did Miss Hershey. “No talking, please!”
    Shawn slumped in his seat. He couldn’t help being small and thin.
    He stared at Miss Hershey’s desk. There was a suggestion box at one end. Miss Hershey emptied the box every Thursday. She read the suggestions to the class, and they discussed each one.
    I write suggestion for box, thought Shawn. I tell teacher about make-fun kids.
    Miss Hershey walked to her desk. “Class, please open to page 57 in your Language arts notebook,” she said. “We will work till recess.”
    Shawn looked in his desk. He found a notebook and pencil. He began to write his name on the seat-work page.
    â€œPs-st—fiddlesticks!” someone whispered.
    It was Ronny Kitch, the boy behind him.
    â€œHey, fiddlesticks boy,” Ronny whispered again.
    Shawn refused to turn around.
    Ronny tapped Shawn’s shoulder. “What page are we supposed to do?” he asked.
    Slowly, Shawn turned. He was going to be nice. He was going to give Ronny the page number.
    But now Ronny was making his eyesslant. He was pulling at his eyes on purpose. Making fun of Shawn. “Only a sissy plays a fiddle,” Ronny hissed through his teeth.
    In a flash, Shawn turned back around. He was not a sissy!
    Instead of starting on the assignment, Shawn pulled out a fresh piece of paper. He glanced at Miss Hershey’s suggestion box.
    He wrote: I not like to tattle. Students call me name. Name is Fiddlesticks. Because I short, little person. Because I come from Korea and play violin.
    Shawn read what he’d written. Then he picked up his pencil again.
    I make suggestion for box. Can teacher make name stop? I thank you very much.
    Respect to you,
    Shawn Hunter—Li Sung Jin,
    from Korea
    Shawn folded the note and pushed it into his jeans. Before recess, he wouldvisit the suggestion box.
    â€œHey, fiddlesticks boy,” Ronny said in his ear. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    Shawn froze.
    Had Ronny seen the note?

THREE
    Ronny Kitch raised his hand. He waved it high.
    â€œYes, Ronny?” Miss Hershey said.
    â€œI need to speak to you,” he said.
    Miss Hershey called him to her desk. They were whispering. Ronny shook his head. Then he turned and pointed to Shawn.
    Miss Hershey’s eyebrows flew up. “Shawn Hunter?” she said.
    Quickly, Shawn stood up and bowed.
    The kids snickered.
    But Miss Hershey was kind. “In America, we don’t bow when someone speaks to us,” she explained. “Do you understand?”
    Shawn nodded. He almost forgot and started to bow again.
    â€œWill you please see me at recess?” the teacher asked.
    Shawn nodded again. “I come see you.”
    He sat down, worried. What had Ronny just told Miss