The unique lou fox, p.5
The Unique Lou Fox, page 5
“Except for me,” said Nakessa.
Lexie laughed. “And me, of course.”
We wrapped our arms around each other just as the bell rang.
“All for one and one for all!” Lexie said.
“Ready,” I said.
“Steady,” Lexie said.
“Freddy,” Nakessa sang.
“Go Bendables!” We cheered.
What I wasn’t ready for was seeing the Shadow Phantom again.
Chapter 11
Less of Me
I scurried into the classroom, zipping straight to my cubby to dump off my backpack. Keeping my sights locked on my desk on the far side of the room, I avoided making eye contact with Mrs. Snyder. I slid into my seat, my plan firmly in mind. I would not get into trouble. Somehow, I would stay on task. I would not daydream. I would listen to every word Mrs. Snyder uttered. Every. Single. Word. And boy did she like to talk. A chatty Shadow Phantom. Just my luck.
“Today, we will be exploring the three states of matter,” Mrs. Snyder began. “Solids, liquids, and gasses.”
“Gasses? Like farting?” Big Jack said, as he took his seat.
Giggles filled the room.
“Settle down, class.” Mrs. Snyder shuffled through a stack of papers on her desk.
“Hey, Louisa,” Big Jack whispered. He stuck his hand under his red lumberjack shirt. Then he flapped his arm up and down. Fart sounds squawked across the room.
“Ew.” I rolled my eyes.
Mrs. Snyder’s head popped up. “Who did that?”
Everyone stared at Big Jack. Big Jack smirked. His blue eyes flashed. “It was Sophia Wabash.”
Sophia Wabash turned in her chair. She glared at Big Jack. “No, it wasn’t! It was you!”
“Jack! That’s enough.” Mrs. Snyder’s voice sounded raspy. “No more lying. Keep up that lying, and no one will trust anything you have to say. And cap off inside.”
Red splotches dotted Big Jack’s face as he slid off his Jets hockey cap.
Lies. I shrunk down in my desk. First, I lied to Dad. Then to the Bendables. It felt like Mrs. Snyder was talking to me too. But that was impossible. She was a Shadow Phantom, not a mind reader.
I glanced at Lexie. She already had a pencil, eraser, and science notebook neatly laid out on her desk. Mom’s words from the morning flashed in my brain. Less is more. I needed to be way less me and far more Lexie.
That’s it!
I sat up straight. That’s how I could get through the day without getting into trouble. I just needed to keep thinking, What would Lexie do? and then do it! Seemed simple enough.
Reaching inside my desk, my fingers wrapped around a bunch of pencils. One even had a slightly sharpened end. I searched again and grabbed the noseless green alien eraser and three notebooks. Picking the science notebook, I stuffed the other two back into my desk. The science notebook’s cover had caught in my backpack zipper last week, so it was a little torn at the top corner. I smoothed it down. It sprang back up. I pounded it with my fist. Slowly, it bent up again. “It’ll have to do,” I muttered, setting it next to the pencil and eraser.
I compared my supplies to Lexie’s. Technically, they were the same, but Lexie’s looked nearly brand new. Mine looked like they had done battle inside my desk. The alien’s facial issues didn’t help.
“Now, let’s begin,” Mrs. Snyder said. She coughed again.
I jumped in my seat. Focus. I needed to focus. I gripped the edges of my desk with my hands and stared at my teacher. She gulped a long sip of water. Stay on task. Focus. Listen. Think like Lexie. How hard could that be?
It took every single ounce of concentration to stay focused on Mrs. Snyder, while at the same time, trying to be more Lexie. I made it through the first half of the morning without the Shadow Phantom snapping at me, but when the recess bell rang, I needed a nap. I slumped across my desk.
“Come on,” Lexie grabbed my hand.
“We need to practice the play,” added Nakessa.
The play! Those words blasted energy straight to my brain. Jumping from my seat, I darted between the desks and around other students to my cubby. From my backpack I grabbed my bag of ghost bedsheets and the thin binder that held the latest scene for the play. “Let’s go!” I called across the sea of chatting heads that bobbed between me and my pals. “Why’s everyone moving like snails in peanut butter? Come on, move it! We’ll miss recess.”
Being the tallest in the class, Sophia Wabash didn’t need to stand on her tiptoes to peer over everyone’s heads to the doorway. “It’s Big Jack,” she said. “He’s blocking everyone on purpose.”
“What? Why?”
She shrugged, yanking on her purple fleece jacket. “I dunno.”
“Y’all are slow as molasses.” I squeezed through the other students to reach him.
“Oh, hi Louisa.” Big Jack blushed and adjusted his baseball cap.
“What seems to be the hold up, son?”
“Huh?” He frowned.
Apparently, Grammers’ Southern accent confused him. I switched back to everyday Lou. “What are you doing?”
“As class president, I’m petitioning for a longer recess—”
“Back up that bus, son.” Firmly channeling Grammers again, I pointed my finger at his chest. “No way, no how are you the class president.”
“Yes I am. Mrs. Snyder said so.”
“When?”
Big Jack’s face turned crimson, which is a poetic way of saying dark red. “Uhm-ah-yesterday…”
“Liar.”
“No, I’m—”
I held my hand up, in the internationally accepted Stop Right There sign. I had no time for this. I had a play to practice. “Just do the petition in the hall. Some of us would like to actually get outside before recess is over.”
Big Jack shrugged. “Fine.” He muttered and stepped through the doorway.
“And you’re not the class president,” I said as I stepped past him into the hall. I zipped past the sixth graders’ lockers to wait by the water fountain. Like an unclogged drain, the line of kids poured from the classroom. Still no Bendables. “Come on. Come on. Come on.” I tapped my binder with my fingers.
Finally, Nakessa and Lexie appeared. “Wow!” Nakessa said when they reached me. “How in the world did you just go from near zombie to the Road Runner in one second?”
“I dunno, but hurry up!” I waved the bag at her. “Don’t you want to see the ghost costumes?”
“Singing ghosts?” Nakessa asked.
I laughed. “Maybe!”
The moment we got to our oak tree, Nakessa grabbed my arm. “Oh my gosh, Lou. Big Jack totally likes you.”
“What? No, he doesn’t.” Big Jack, the farting machine?
“Yes, he does. He like-likes you.”
“Gross.”
“It’s true,” Lexie said. “Didn’t you hear him?”
“Making farting sounds?” I scoffed. “It was impossible not to.”
“No, before that. He called your name to get your attention,” Lexie said.
“Ick.” I held my hand up to stop her. “Don’t say another word. It will totally ruin the big reveal of the costumes.”
Nakessa yanked the bag from my hand. “Let’s see!” She pulled out a sheet, then burst out laughing.
I grabbed it from her, dropping my binder as I did. “Those are my old Fairy Princess sheets! I wanted white ones. Dad totally pranked me. This is his idea of hilarious.”
Nakessa held up another set. “Robin Hood!”
Lexie giggled. “Remember when you wrote that play, Lexie Chan and Her Band of Merry Women? That was my favorite.”
Nakessa draped the Robin Hood sheets over her head. “That’s because you were the lead.” She slowly raised her arms in front of her, tenting the sheet, and began to sing. “When there’s something strange at Lakeside School. Who you gonna call?”
“Robin Hood!” Nakessa and Lexie shouted together.
I plunked onto the grass, pulling the binder onto my lap. “Sorry about this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Lexie sat next to me. “We can still practice our lines.”
“Yeah, but I’m the director. Making sure the actors take their parts seriously is the most important part of the job. Otherwise, the play won’t turn out right.”
Nakessa flipped the sheet back from her face. “Lou, don’t get so upset.” She sat on the other side of me. “It’s not like anyone but us will ever see the play.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” I opened the rings of my binder to remove the new pages I’d written last night. “I have some new lines for you.”
Nakessa jumped up. The sheet caught in the wind and ballooned behind her like a parachute. “I will get you,” she read, “and every brat in Lakeside School!” She lunged at Lexie.
Lexie rolled across the grass, out of her way. “Aaaahhhh!” She scrambled to her feet and
Nakessa chased her around the tree.
“Why do you hate kids so much?” Lexie sounded perfectly terrified.
Yes! Hearing my words acted out felt better than landing a front flip. A gentle warmth flowed through my body. I couldn’t stop smiling.
Nakessa wildly waved her arms in the air. Her eyes squinting, she grimaced. “Children are a big nuisance. They don’t listen. They don’t follow directions. And they don’t do their…” She looked at me. “…homework?”
“Yeah, I thought the ghost could be the dead principal who’s haunting the school.”
“Cool.” Nakessa nodded her head.
“Did she die at the school?” Lexie asked. “That would be a good reason for her to be stuck at Lakeside.”
“Yeah!” The sheet flopped forward, hiding Nakessa’s face. She yanked it off, throwing it to the ground. “Her body is gone, but her tormented soul is trapped within—”
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” I cut her off. I was the real playwright, not Nakessa.
Nakessa’s smile slid from her face. “I was just suggesting—”
“Yeah, I know. Just leave it to me.” I knew we were writing the play together, but being an actual playwright was my one big, audacious dream. It’s the only thing I was really good at. That, and being bendy. And art. Okay, so one of three things. But it was my number one dream.
“Hey, I think we have an audience.” Lexie pointed over to the metal bench that sat in front of the play structure. Sophia Wabash, Little Jack, and some other kids were watching us. They clapped. An audience! The three of us bowed. I did a back flip. My heart zinged. All defensive thoughts were squashed by a burning question. Were we ready for the big time?
Chapter 12
If Only Every Class Was Art
Back at my desk, I glued my eyes on Mrs. Snyder, determined to stay focused. With the occasional glance at Lexie, I figured it would be a cinch to imitate her every move. Sticking to my plan was the only way to keep Shadow Phantom Snyder off my back.
“Class,” Mrs. Snyder said. “Take out your social studies textbook and turn to page thirty-four. Please read the first two paragraphs silently. Then we’ll break into our groups to work on the Regional Geography Project for the balance of the afternoon.”
Silent reading. Not my favorite. I flipped open the textbook to the right page. The entire page was solid text. Not one chart or illustration. So many words. I groaned.
“You okay?” Lexie whispered.
“Uhm-yeah.” I gave her a thumbs-up then drawled like Grammers. “Readin’s like lassoin’ a bucking bronco with a shoelace. All sorts of tricky, Ma’am.”
She giggled.
“Hush. I shouldn’t hear voices,” Mrs. Snyder said.
Be more like Lexie, I reminded myself. Lexie Chan definitely did not groan when reading, or talk when she shouldn’t. I grabbed the bookmark that I keep in my desk and placed it under the first sentence. When I block the next line from sight, I can’t see those words and mix the two sentences together.
Something fluttered out of the corner of my eye. Something outside. Was it a bird on the window ledge, or a dog in the field? I clenched my teeth. Do not look. Stay on task. I slowly read.
Our coun-try can be…
I frowned. The next word was a stumper.
di-sectionid-ed. sectionided!
I kept going.
into
Uh-oh.
lan-landfo- landform reg-i-ons.
Huh. That didn’t sound right. I decided to ignore the last word and glanced at Lexie. She was deep in thought. Probably thinking landform whatsits were super fascinating. No groaning emerged from Miss Chan. I peeked behind me at Nakessa. She looked as fascinated by the textbook as Lexie. I sighed. Sighing might have to replace groaning if I was going to master being more Lexie and less Lou. Returning to my textbook, I tackled the next sentence. It wasn’t much easier. Neither were the next three. Pretty soon my underarms began to sweat. Ick.
Mrs. Snyder coughed. My focus shifted in a nano-second to her. She’d become awfully pale. She actually looked kind of sick. “Eyes on your textbook, Louisa.”
“Sorry. I was just wondering if your co—”
“Ah-ah-ah. If your question isn’t related to landform regions, save your wondering until after class.”
I couldn’t even be concerned about her without getting into trouble. It was her coughing that distracted me in the first place. Not fair! Maybe she should stay home when she’s not feeling well. Maybe she should just stay home forever. I swallowed a growl that I really, really wanted to let loose.
“Louisa, are you staying on task?”
I jerked. Maybe Mrs. Snyder was turning into a mind reader after all. Lowering my head, I slid my bookmark under the next line. “Yes, Mrs. Snyder. Fully and completely on task.”
* * *
Finally, the reading torture ended. I was nowhere near finished the two paragraphs, but I didn’t care. If I’d had to read one second longer, that swallowed growl would have exploded from me.
We dragged our desks into a square so we could work on our group project. I sat across from Lexie, and Sophia Wabash faced Nakessa. We each had one part of the project to complete. My job was the map. I carefully pulled it from a plastic sleeve Mom had given me. “I still have to label it, but it’ll be done by the deadline.” I’d been delaying the labeling. My printing is so messy, even I have trouble reading it sometimes.
“Woah, Louisa.” Sophia Wabash dropped her pencil on the desk. “That’s really amazing. Your drawings look professional.”
I blushed. “Thanks. I thought it would be a cool idea to include illustrations for each region. Once I’m done all of them, I’ll color them in.”
“I can’t believe you did those yourself.” Sophia Wabash slid the map onto her desk, leaning over it, she ran her finger lightly across the polar bear. “The fur looks real.”
“You’re going to get us an A+ on our project.” Nakessa raised her hand and we high-fived.
“You’re a natural.” Lexie smiled at me.
“Ah, you guys!” I laughed, not so secretly loving the attention. “Getting an A+ on a project would be a first for me.”
“That’s what you get when your mom’s an amazing artist. It’s in your genes.” Nakessa said.
“Ohhh.” Sophia Wabash crossed her arms across her chest. “Not fair.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, being artistic runs in your family, so drawing is easier for you than the rest of us.”
I yanked the map back. “I worked hard on those drawings.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that I’d have to work way harder than you to get that good.”
Heat rushed up my neck. “Welcome to my life. Reading and printing and math aren’t exactly easy for me.”
“Oh.” Sophia Wabash’s olive-green eyes grew wide, reminding me of small lily pads. Pink splotches dotted her cheeks “I-I didn’t know…”
“Regular stuff that’s simple for you takes me a lot longer. Sometimes it seems impossible and then other stuff like art, is way easier.”
“I-I didn’t know…”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.” But it wasn’t really. My Less Lou/More Lexie day had tired me out too much to go into a huge explanation of how my brain worked differently.
Then the bell rang.
“Woohoo!” Nakessa and I cheered at the same time.
“Louisa,” Mrs. Snyder called over the sounds of twenty-eight fifth graders pulling their desks and chairs across the room. “Please stay after school. I’d like to chat.”
“B-but, what about Nakessa? She cheered too, and—” I didn’t bother finishing. Mrs. Snyder began wiping the whiteboard. Apparently, cleaning the classroom was more important to her than anything I had to say. “I can’t do anything right,” I muttered.
“Sorry, Lou,” Nakessa said.
What could I have possibly done wrong now? I walked with the Bendables to the doorway, wishing I could leave too. “Lexie, couldn’t you use your wand and cast some sort of magic spell on me? I need to be invisible to Mrs. Snyder.”
Lexie giggled. “If only.” She gave me a big hug. “Just don’t talk back.”
Nakessa hugged me next. “Be strong and, like Lexie said, don’t blurt out anything sassy.”
“I never mean to. It just happens.”
“Okay, Louisa I’m ready for you,” Mrs. Snyder called. “Say good-bye to your friends.”
Lexie and Nakessa waved as they disappeared into the hall.
I trudged to the front of the room to meet my doom.
The Shadow Phantom sat down, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she looked tired—really tired.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Snyder?”
“That’s very kind of you to ask, Louisa.” She coughed into her elbow. “I must admit I’ve felt better. This cold of mine doesn’t seem to want to leave. Quite happy it’s Friday and I have the weekend to recover.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Take a seat, Louisa.”
