kind of personal stake in it at all, so I didn't understand the "You" part.
"Must all history center around your own personal experience, Hoodhood?" Mr. Petrelli asked.
It did seem that since we were talking about the Mississippi River and Youâor in this case, Meâone possible answer to his question would be yes. But in Camillo Junior High, and especially in Mr. Petrelli's class, the right answer is usually just shutting up.
"Your report," Mr. Petrelli continued to the class, "can be on..."
I whispered the "Toads, beetles, bats" one here and got it just right.
In Chorus, Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heelsâthe "Very Spiky Heels" line isn't in Shakespeare, it's from Danny HupferâMiss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels figured we had way too many altos, and she told me to move forward to sing the melody with the sopranos.
"Me?" I said.
"You have a lovely, clear voice, Holling."
"I can't sing soprano."
"Of course you can," said Miss Violet. "Just reach for the high notes."
I gave my musicâmy tenor musicâto Danny Hupfer. "You have a lovely, clear voice, Holling," he said.
"Pied ninny," I said.
Meryl Lee made room for me on her music stand. "You didn't know you could sing like a girl, did you?" she said.
"Blind mole, a wicked dew from unwholesome fen drop you," I said. I was getting good at making combinations.
Meryl Lee grabbed my arm. "What did you say?"
Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels tapped her baton for silence. Then she raised her hands and waved them grandly, and we began a medley of American folk songsâwhich are supposed to make your heart swell patriotically. I tried to look like I cared a whole lot about reaching for the high notes, of which there were more than enough.
Meryl Lee still held my arm. "What did you say?" she asked again.
"
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger...
"
"That's not what you said," she said.
"
A-trav'ling through this world of woe...
"
Meryl Lee moved her hand up toward my throat.
Then Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels tapped her baton again.
Everyone went quiet.
"Meryl Lee?" Miss Violet said.
Meryl Lee dropped her hand and looked at Miss Violet. Her cheeks flushed into a color you only see in television cartoons.
"Meryl Lee," said Miss Violet, "I didn't send Holling up there so that you could flirt with him."
Well, the look that came over Meryl Lee's face was the look you'd have if you wanted the earth to open up so that you could jump in and no one would see you again forever and ever. Her mouth opened, and her eyes opened, and her nostrils opened. Even the freckles across her nose got a whole lot bigger.
Miss Violet tapped the baton again, and we started to sing.
"
Yes, we're all dodging, dodging, dodging, dodging,
Yes, we're all dodging a way through the world.
"
I tried not to show anything when Meryl Lee put her foot on top of mine and pushed down as hard as she could, which, let me tell you, teaches you something about a world of woe, and dodging, too.
The next hour was Gym, where we ran laps around the track along with the eighth-grade class, who all smelled smokyâespecially Doug Swieteck's brother.
"Hoodhood," called Coach Quatrini, "you call that running?"
The quality of mercy doesn't drop much from Gym teachers.
The reason I wasn't running well was because Meryl Lee had kept pushing down on my foot for all of "Goin' Down the Road Feeling Bad" and almost all of "Worried Man Blues," and if it's possible for there to be internal bleeding in a foot, then that's what mine was doing.
"Pied ninny," I said, not loud enough for Coach Quatrini to hear me.
But loud enough for Doug Swieteck's brother, who was running just behind me, to hear.
"What does that mean?" he said, coming up beside me.
"What?"
He slowed down to match my limp. " 'Pied ninny.' What does that mean?"
"Uh..."
"C'mon," said Doug Swieteck's brother.
"It means ... uh..."
"You don't know."
"It means someone who's so stupid that he's eaten all these pies
"Must all history center around your own personal experience, Hoodhood?" Mr. Petrelli asked.
It did seem that since we were talking about the Mississippi River and Youâor in this case, Meâone possible answer to his question would be yes. But in Camillo Junior High, and especially in Mr. Petrelli's class, the right answer is usually just shutting up.
"Your report," Mr. Petrelli continued to the class, "can be on..."
I whispered the "Toads, beetles, bats" one here and got it just right.
In Chorus, Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heelsâthe "Very Spiky Heels" line isn't in Shakespeare, it's from Danny HupferâMiss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels figured we had way too many altos, and she told me to move forward to sing the melody with the sopranos.
"Me?" I said.
"You have a lovely, clear voice, Holling."
"I can't sing soprano."
"Of course you can," said Miss Violet. "Just reach for the high notes."
I gave my musicâmy tenor musicâto Danny Hupfer. "You have a lovely, clear voice, Holling," he said.
"Pied ninny," I said.
Meryl Lee made room for me on her music stand. "You didn't know you could sing like a girl, did you?" she said.
"Blind mole, a wicked dew from unwholesome fen drop you," I said. I was getting good at making combinations.
Meryl Lee grabbed my arm. "What did you say?"
Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels tapped her baton for silence. Then she raised her hands and waved them grandly, and we began a medley of American folk songsâwhich are supposed to make your heart swell patriotically. I tried to look like I cared a whole lot about reaching for the high notes, of which there were more than enough.
Meryl Lee still held my arm. "What did you say?" she asked again.
"
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger...
"
"That's not what you said," she said.
"
A-trav'ling through this world of woe...
"
Meryl Lee moved her hand up toward my throat.
Then Miss Violet of the Very Spiky Heels tapped her baton again.
Everyone went quiet.
"Meryl Lee?" Miss Violet said.
Meryl Lee dropped her hand and looked at Miss Violet. Her cheeks flushed into a color you only see in television cartoons.
"Meryl Lee," said Miss Violet, "I didn't send Holling up there so that you could flirt with him."
Well, the look that came over Meryl Lee's face was the look you'd have if you wanted the earth to open up so that you could jump in and no one would see you again forever and ever. Her mouth opened, and her eyes opened, and her nostrils opened. Even the freckles across her nose got a whole lot bigger.
Miss Violet tapped the baton again, and we started to sing.
"
Yes, we're all dodging, dodging, dodging, dodging,
Yes, we're all dodging a way through the world.
"
I tried not to show anything when Meryl Lee put her foot on top of mine and pushed down as hard as she could, which, let me tell you, teaches you something about a world of woe, and dodging, too.
The next hour was Gym, where we ran laps around the track along with the eighth-grade class, who all smelled smokyâespecially Doug Swieteck's brother.
"Hoodhood," called Coach Quatrini, "you call that running?"
The quality of mercy doesn't drop much from Gym teachers.
The reason I wasn't running well was because Meryl Lee had kept pushing down on my foot for all of "Goin' Down the Road Feeling Bad" and almost all of "Worried Man Blues," and if it's possible for there to be internal bleeding in a foot, then that's what mine was doing.
"Pied ninny," I said, not loud enough for Coach Quatrini to hear me.
But loud enough for Doug Swieteck's brother, who was running just behind me, to hear.
"What does that mean?" he said, coming up beside me.
"What?"
He slowed down to match my limp. " 'Pied ninny.' What does that mean?"
"Uh..."
"C'mon," said Doug Swieteck's brother.
"It means ... uh..."
"You don't know."
"It means someone who's so stupid that he's eaten all these pies
Similar Books
