look at what I'm writing on the board. Who can read this word?"
Everyone, all but Malcolm and Felicia Ann, watched as she wrote the long word. Then they shouted it out. "BEGINNING!"
"Good!" said Mrs. Pidgeon. "Now I'm sure you'll all know this one." She wrote again.
"MIDDLE!" the children shouted.
"Good. And can you guess what the last word will be?" She held up her chalk and waited.
"END!"
"Correct!" Mrs. Pidgeon said. "Good for you, second-graders! Those are the parts that a story needs: a beginning, a middle, and an end. Now I'm gong to write another very long word on the board. Let's see what good readers you are." She wrote a C, then an H.
"Mrs. Pidgeon!" someone called.
She wrote an A, and then an R.
" MRS. PIDGEON! " Several children were calling now.
She turned to see what was so important. Malcolm was standing beside his desk. He was crying.
"Malcolm needs to go to the nurse, Mrs. Pidgeon!" Beanie said.
Mrs. Pidgeon went to Malcolm and knelt beside him. "What's the trouble, Malcolm?" she asked. But he couldn't stop crying.
"I know, I know!" Nicholas said. Nicholas always knew everything, and his desk was beside Malcolm's.
"Tell me, Nicholas."
"Remember Keiko showed us how to make origami stars?"
All of the second-graders reached into their desks and their pockets and their lunch boxes. There were tiny stars everywhere. Keiko had shown them how to make origami stars out of small strips of paper. The stars were very easy to make. The school janitor had complained just last Friday that he was sweeping up hundreds of origami stars.
"Malcolm put one in his nose," Nicholas said, "and now he can't get it out."
"Is that correct, Malcolm?" Mrs. Pidgeon asked. Malcolm nodded and wiped his eyes.
"Don't sniff, Malcolm. Do not sniff. That is an order." She took his hand and walked with him to the classroom door. She turned to the class. "Children," she said, "I am going to be gone for exactly one minute and thirty seconds while I walk with Malcolm to the nurse's office down the hall. Stay in your seats while I'm gone. Think about the word character.
"A character is what a story needs. When I come back from the nurse's office, we are going to create a story together. You must choose who the main character will be. Talk among yourselves quietly. Think about interesting characters like Abraham Lincoln, or perhaps Christopher Columbus, or—"
"Babe Ruth?" called Ben.
"Yes, Babe Ruth is a possibility. I'll be right back."
Mrs. Pidgeon left the classroom with Malcolm.
When she returned, one minute and thirty seconds later, without Malcolm, the class was waiting. They had been whispering, all but Felicia Ann, who never whispered.
"Have you chosen?" she asked. The class nodded. All of their heads went up and down, except Felicia Ann's, because she always looked at the floor.
"And your choice is—?"
All of the children, all but Felicia Ann, called out together. "Gooney Bird Greene!" they called.
Mrs. Pidgeon sighed. "Class," she said, "there are many different kinds of stories. There are stories about imaginary creatures, like—"
"Dumbo!" Tricia called out.
"Raise your hand if you want to speak, please," Mrs. Pidgeon said. "But yes, Tricia, you are correct. Dumbo is an imaginary character. There are also stories about real people from history, like Christopher Columbus, and—" She stopped. Barry Tuckerman was waving and waving his hand. "Yes, Barry? Do you have something very important to say?"
Barry Tuckerman stood up. He twisted the bottom of his shirt around and around in his fingers. "I forget," he said at last.
"Well, sit back down then, Barry. Now, I thought, class, that since Christopher Columbus's birthday is coming up soon—" She looked at Barry Tuckerman, whose hand was waving like a windmill once again. "Barry?" she said.
Barry Tuckerman stood up again. "We already know all the stories about Christopher Columbus," he said. "We want to hear a true story about Gooney Bird Greene."
"Yes!
Everyone, all but Malcolm and Felicia Ann, watched as she wrote the long word. Then they shouted it out. "BEGINNING!"
"Good!" said Mrs. Pidgeon. "Now I'm sure you'll all know this one." She wrote again.
"MIDDLE!" the children shouted.
"Good. And can you guess what the last word will be?" She held up her chalk and waited.
"END!"
"Correct!" Mrs. Pidgeon said. "Good for you, second-graders! Those are the parts that a story needs: a beginning, a middle, and an end. Now I'm gong to write another very long word on the board. Let's see what good readers you are." She wrote a C, then an H.
"Mrs. Pidgeon!" someone called.
She wrote an A, and then an R.
" MRS. PIDGEON! " Several children were calling now.
She turned to see what was so important. Malcolm was standing beside his desk. He was crying.
"Malcolm needs to go to the nurse, Mrs. Pidgeon!" Beanie said.
Mrs. Pidgeon went to Malcolm and knelt beside him. "What's the trouble, Malcolm?" she asked. But he couldn't stop crying.
"I know, I know!" Nicholas said. Nicholas always knew everything, and his desk was beside Malcolm's.
"Tell me, Nicholas."
"Remember Keiko showed us how to make origami stars?"
All of the second-graders reached into their desks and their pockets and their lunch boxes. There were tiny stars everywhere. Keiko had shown them how to make origami stars out of small strips of paper. The stars were very easy to make. The school janitor had complained just last Friday that he was sweeping up hundreds of origami stars.
"Malcolm put one in his nose," Nicholas said, "and now he can't get it out."
"Is that correct, Malcolm?" Mrs. Pidgeon asked. Malcolm nodded and wiped his eyes.
"Don't sniff, Malcolm. Do not sniff. That is an order." She took his hand and walked with him to the classroom door. She turned to the class. "Children," she said, "I am going to be gone for exactly one minute and thirty seconds while I walk with Malcolm to the nurse's office down the hall. Stay in your seats while I'm gone. Think about the word character.
"A character is what a story needs. When I come back from the nurse's office, we are going to create a story together. You must choose who the main character will be. Talk among yourselves quietly. Think about interesting characters like Abraham Lincoln, or perhaps Christopher Columbus, or—"
"Babe Ruth?" called Ben.
"Yes, Babe Ruth is a possibility. I'll be right back."
Mrs. Pidgeon left the classroom with Malcolm.
When she returned, one minute and thirty seconds later, without Malcolm, the class was waiting. They had been whispering, all but Felicia Ann, who never whispered.
"Have you chosen?" she asked. The class nodded. All of their heads went up and down, except Felicia Ann's, because she always looked at the floor.
"And your choice is—?"
All of the children, all but Felicia Ann, called out together. "Gooney Bird Greene!" they called.
Mrs. Pidgeon sighed. "Class," she said, "there are many different kinds of stories. There are stories about imaginary creatures, like—"
"Dumbo!" Tricia called out.
"Raise your hand if you want to speak, please," Mrs. Pidgeon said. "But yes, Tricia, you are correct. Dumbo is an imaginary character. There are also stories about real people from history, like Christopher Columbus, and—" She stopped. Barry Tuckerman was waving and waving his hand. "Yes, Barry? Do you have something very important to say?"
Barry Tuckerman stood up. He twisted the bottom of his shirt around and around in his fingers. "I forget," he said at last.
"Well, sit back down then, Barry. Now, I thought, class, that since Christopher Columbus's birthday is coming up soon—" She looked at Barry Tuckerman, whose hand was waving like a windmill once again. "Barry?" she said.
Barry Tuckerman stood up again. "We already know all the stories about Christopher Columbus," he said. "We want to hear a true story about Gooney Bird Greene."
"Yes!
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