Brand New School, Brave New Ruby Read online

  Miss Fuqua looked at me and smiled. She asked me to help her up from the rug. I reached out my hand, and she sprang up like a piece of toast. Miss Fuqua looked excited.

  “Sure, Ruby. We’d love to hear you. Please, share your gift.” She asked everyone to come around the planet Earth rug so they could hear me. I was so ready to show my classmates how well I can sing. But my hands got all cold and sweaty, and I just couldn’t stop flicking my bracelets.

  On the planet Earth rug, I stood on the continent of North America, cleared my throat, and then prepared to sing. But before I could hit one note, the PA system came on for the second time that day. It was the office secretary, Miss Funkhouser. “Pardon the interruption, teachers. But Miss Cherrybaum would like you to please bring your students down to the auditorium in fifteen minutes for a surprise Welcome Back to School assembly. That will be all.” Miss Fuqua asked all of us to get in line at the door.

  There I was with a song stuck in my throat and standing on North America all by myself.

  “We’ll continue this some other time, Ruby,” Miss Fuqua called out to me from the door. “Come on now.”

  I stood in the back of the line and thought about how I might have missed a chance to make a name for myself, at least in my own class. We all walked down the hallway toward the big auditorium.

  * * *

  The curtains on the stage opened all the way. A woman wearing a purple dress came marching out. She looked like a super-sized grape. She was tall, too. Her dress was so pretty. It matched the white-and-purple flower in her hair.

  She tapped the microphone twice, then said, “Welcome, students and teachers. I am Miss Cherrybaum, your principal here at Hope Road Academy.” Her voice and the way she looked didn’t match at all. Her voice was small and squeaky, like a chipmunk’s.

  Miss Cherrybaum announced, “Please give a warm Hope Road welcome to our music teacher, Mr. Dilla.” Mr. Dilla looked so cool. He reminded me of my daddy. He wore glasses and a hat with a feather in it.

  A few big kids had set up instruments onstage. It looked like a band was about to play. There was a piano, a saxophone, a flute, and a xylophone.

  Suddenly, a beat came through the big speakers in front of the stage, a boom-cack-ba-boom-cack kind of beat. Mr. Dilla walked up to the microphone and said, “Okay, Hope Road, I’d like to welcome to the stage my number-one student, a very talented young man who will open up our assembly. Keep the beat going for my one-man band … MARCELLUS BOOKER!”

  My chance to sing in front of my class had been cut short because of my brother Marcellus. I couldn’t believe it! And now he was going to be a big fat show-off in front of the whole school. Great. I could feel a frown pinching my face. My lips were as tight as a zipper. I balled my fists up like I was getting ready for a boxing match.

  Whenever company came over to our house, Daddy always had Marcellus and me perform together. He played the piano, and I hit all of the notes. I wanted to go up on that stage with Marcellus to sing, sing, sing. “Cotton Candy Clouds” would have sounded so good with Marcellus playing the piano. But I had to stay in my seat while Marcellus strolled onto the stage by himself. He clapped with the crowd and then took a seat at the piano. He smiled at everyone and began to play.

  Then Marcellus got up from the piano and grabbed the saxophone. He played for a few minutes. It sounded as smooth as butter. Then he grabbed the flute and played it so sweetly. While still playing the flute, Marcellus walked over to the xylophone. He handed the flute to Mr. Dilla. Then my super-talented big bro tapped the xylophone with little soft hammer-looking things. It was amazing!

  A few rows back from me, a boy stood up and hollered out, “Sit down, show-off!” I think he was a fifth- or sixth-grader. It didn’t matter to me what the kid thought. Marcellus may have been showing off, but he was good at it.

  I stood on my seat and then turned around to face the boy who yelled out. He looked really surprised and a little scared at the mean face I gave him. I rolled up my sleeves and pointed at him.

  “If you don’t mind, some people are enjoying this. Keep your mean, silly words to yourself,” I growled at him. I also cracked my knuckles like Ro does when he’s trying to bully me into doing something for him. My knuckles don’t make that cracking sound like Ro’s do, but my rolled-up sleeves were enough. That boy slid down in his seat and kept his mouth shut for the rest of the assembly.

  After the assembly was over, all of the classes went back to their rooms. In the hallways, again I heard everyone talking about one of my brothers. Marcellus “Big-Time” Booker was the star this time. Everyone thought it was so cool how he could play all of those instruments. Well … it was a big deal, but I didn’t want to hear it.

  When we returned to our classroom, I put my head down on my desk and waited for Miss Fuqua to pass out our math books. I was eager for the day to end.

  There was no way Tyner would show me up. At least I hoped he wouldn’t.

  I didn’t get to sing during Galaxy time, but when it was math time, I knew this could be my time to shine. I was always good at math. I like it. To tell you the truth, it’s always been fun for me. Tyner has taught me math. And since all subjects are easy for Tyner, when he shows me stuff, he makes it seem easy.

  “Would any of you brave souls like to come up to the board and try a few math problems?” Miss Fuqua asked as she waved a piece of chalk.

  My hand was the first one in the air. I even stood up.

  “Right here, Miss Fuqua!”

  I ran to the board, grabbed the chalk from Miss Fuqua, and wrote down five problems that Miss Fuqua read from a book on her desk. She wanted to see how fast I could find the answers. It didn’t take me long at all. I zoomed through those problems.

  One thing that always helped me keep calm while doing math was humming. So as soon as I got to that blackboard, another song by the Crazy Cutie Crew called “Jelly Bean Dreams” came into my head. While I was writing down each number I sang softly to myself. I don’t think anyone could hear me:

  “Jelly, jelly, jelly,

  Rolling in my belly.

  Purple, green, orange, and red.

  Jelly, jelly, jelly, that’s what I said!”

  Maybe Miss Fuqua heard a little, but she didn’t mind. I think she was more into my math skills. I wrote quickly, with a steady hand. I showed the kids in Pluto-3 that I really meant business.

  Miss Fuqua clapped at my speedy answers. I bowed like I’d just won a big contest. The look on some of my classmates’ faces made me feel proud. Even they couldn’t believe how good I was at math. Only one girl had a frown on her face. It was Marquetta Loopy, of course. I didn’t let her ruin my happy moment, though. I stood proudly by my work.

  But then — aargh! — just like the other times during the day, the PA system came on … again. It was our school counselor, Mrs. Prize.

  “Close your math books, everyone. I need you to listen,” Miss Fuqua told the class. Then she turned to me and said, “Good job, Ruby. Have a seat, please.”

  Mrs. Prize began to speak. “Students, your grades are a reflection of your efforts. We hope you’ll have a great year and be the best students and leaders that you can be.” Mrs. Prize kept reading off numbers and grades of students from Hope Road Academy who did well last year. She also mentioned how Miss Cherrybaum wants those students to set good examples and to keep up the good work.

  Mrs. Prize finished her list and then started to go on and on about the best student at Hope Road. I didn’t even need to guess who she was talking about. I was just hoping that it wasn’t who I thought it was … but it was.

  Mrs. Prize said, “But the student with the highest grades and test scores by far is none other than Tyner Booker.”

  There is a sixth-grade classroom above Pluto-3, and we could hear them cheering and stomping for Tyner. Mrs. Prize read off Tyner’s perfect scores, and the kids in my class were amazed. It seemed like my three-digit subtraction and addition stuff didn’t even matter anymore.
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br />   I know that it wasn’t Ty’s fault, but now he had outshined me, too. I was as low as low could ever go. My legs felt like pudding, my nose started to run, and I walked back to my desk and slumped down like an old beanbag.

  Miss Fuqua said it was time for us to go out for recess. If anybody needed a break, it was me.

  Teresa and I were the only girls who wanted to play kick ball. We leaned against the fence, just waiting on our turn to kick. Until then, we munched on the sunflower seeds that she’d brought. That girl loves sunflower seeds. Between spitting out the shells, I told her how low I felt about my brothers stealing all of the Booker attention away from me.

  “I hear ya, Ruby,” Teresa said.

  “You don’t have any brothers or sisters, T. How could you understand?” I asked after I dug deeper into her pocket for more seeds.

  “I do understand, Ruby,” Teresa said. “I have some big cousins back home, and they’re always beating me at something.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to share anything, fight with anyone, or compete with anyone at home.”

  “That’s true, but it sure would be nice to have someone to play with, even fight and compete with from time to time. You’re lucky, gal!” Teresa said before she chipped away at more sunflower seeds.

  “I know, T, but it can be annoying sometimes. Marcellus is good at everything, Ty is a brainiac, and even though Ro acts up, he’s famous for his pranks.”

  “You do have some awesome brothers, Ruby, but you’re no choppy livers yourself.”

  “I’m no what?” Sometimes I don’t know what that country girl is talking about.

  “My dad says that every now and then. It means that you’re good at a lot of things, but maybe you don’t know it sometimes. Like singing. You sing like a bird, Ruby. Those Booker boys can’t sing like you do.” Teresa was right.

  We moved up a couple of spaces in the kick-ball line. There were four boys ahead of me. I thought Teresa and I would never get a turn to kick the ball.

  “I know that, but how can I get everybody here at Hope Road to know me if I keep getting shoved to the back?” I said to Teresa. “People don’t even call me by my name in the neighborhood. They say, ‘Hey! Aren’t you Ty, Ro, and Big-Time’s little sis?’ I’m so sick of that! I didn’t come to this school to hear about how great my brothers are.” I pouted like I almost never do. My cheeks got all puffy and I folded my arms.

  “I know how fun you are, Ruby, and how well you can carry a tune,” Teresa said in her sweet-peach voice. “Who else could dress as fancy as you do or wear her hair in such a stylish way and still look cuter than a baby possum in an Easter basket? You, that’s who.” Teresa shook more sunflower seeds into her hand, popped one into the air, and then caught it with her mouth.

  “So what should I do? How can I get my name in lights here at this giant school?” I asked Teresa. There were two more kids in front of me. I wasn’t keeping up with the score, but our team was kicking tail!

  “I really don’t know,” she said. Then she turned her lips up and looked toward the sky. That’s what she does when her brain is clicking. Then she said, “I got it! What did you do this morning to get yourself ready to come to Hope Road? I know morning time is always a happy time for you. What did you do?”

  “You know … I woke up singing my favorite song.”

  “‘Cotton Candy Clouds’?”

  “What else?” I answered. We looked at each other and started singing the words:

  “When the sun hits the clouds

  And rainbows kiss the sky,

  A sweet wind blows, and then I know

  That today is mine, all mine.”

  We sang it over and over. Teresa was not the greatest singer in the world, but I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else as a singing buddy. Her peach-cake twang sounded so cool to me. Besides, she was trying to make me feel better, and I love that about her.

  Right then, an idea hit me. It was as sweet as the cotton candy clouds over our heads. Yeah, I could sing for the whole school. And my brothers or Miss Fuqua wouldn’t be able to stop me. I didn’t tell Teresa my secret plan. I just hoped I would get a chance to do it before the day was over. I knew what I had to do. I was ready.

  When Teresa saw me grinning, she said, “There’s that famous glowworm Ruby smile that I’m used to!” She nudged me up toward home plate. It was my turn to kick.

  A boy from the other third-grade class laughed and told the kids on his team to move closer because he didn’t think I could kick. Well, I tricked his treat.

  As soon as that bouncy red ball rolled over the plate, I slammed it with my purple sneaker. I could see the eyes of all the boys on that other team get as big as lightbulbs. The ball flew over their heads and would have been a home run if there’d been a wall for it to fly over. I smashed it! Then I went around the bases real slow and waved at all the boys who didn’t believe in my kick-ball skills.

  We had thirty minutes left before the bell rang for us to go home. Miss Fuqua asked the class, “Could you please clean up around your desks?” My area was clean. Manny Flemon had crayons, cut-up strips of paper, and glue balls that looked like boogers stuck to his desk.

  When we finished, we went to the coat closet and grabbed our things, one group at a time. Then Miss Fuqua surprised us, especially me, when she stood before the class and said, “Pluto-3 has been given the honor of selecting a student to go to the office and read the first-day-of-school announcements.”

  I crossed my fingers, closed my eyes to make a wish, and tried hard not to blurt out, “Me, me, me!” But Miss Fuqua kept looking at Marquetta Loopy, like she’d been chosen. I just kept wishing. Me. Me. Me. And, yeah! My wish came true. Miss Fuqua walked past grumpy-faced Marquetta Loopy and came right over to me. “You’ll be first, Ruby Booker. You’ve been such a good leader and such an interesting new member of Pluto-3. Make us proud.”

  This was my turn to shine! Me. Me. Me. The plan I thought up to finally get everyone’s attention could happen now. This was so perfect. I smiled at Marquetta, even though she was still frowning.

  Miss Fuqua said I could come back later to get my stuff from the classroom. She said reading the announcements would only take about three minutes. I grabbed the hall pass from a hook by the door and tore down the hall like a jet-powered kid.

  I went down the steps, and there was Miss Cherrybaum fussing, in her high, squeaky, chipmunk voice, at some boy who had been caught running down the stairs, throwing pieces of paper off the banister.

  When I walked past Miss Cherrybaum and the goofy-looking boy who got caught, Miss Cherrybaum stopped me and said, “I’m counting on you to do a good job with those announcements, Miss Ruby Booker.” Miss Cherrybaum smiled at me and then turned back to the boy. The flower that she had in her hair from the assembly was still there. Now that I was up close, I could see that it was real.

  “Your flower is pretty, Miss Cherrybaum. It looks good on you,” I told her. She looked at me again and smiled even wider. She told me to go into her office and wait for her to come in. So that’s what I did. No one was in the office at the time. Even the secretary, Miss Funkhouser, had stepped out for a break.

  When I walked into Miss Cherrybaum’s office, the first thing I noticed was the big golden microphone for the PA system sitting on her desk. That was the same microphone that kept interrupting my moments of greatness all day. The announcements were written on a piece of paper on her desk. They looked short and sweet. The button to turn on the microphone was calling my name. All I had to do was flick it on when the time came.

  I thought that maybe Miss Cherrybaum would think it was very leader-like to read the announcements without being told. But really, the announcements were the last thing on my mind. I thought that maybe it was my turn to flip the switch and introduce myself to the whole school. But then I stopped myself. What are you doing, Ruby Booker!? I thought.

  I started to walk out of Miss Cherrybaum’s office when the words to “Cotton Candy Clouds” came
over me. This was the right moment to jump on! There was the microphone. And there I stood, ready to share with the whole school who the real Ruby Booker was. I shut the door to the office, but I didn’t lock it. I walked back over to the desk, turned on the microphone, and took a deep, deep breath.

  “Good afternoon, Hope Road. This is Ruby Booker from Miss Fuqua’s third-grade class.” I was a little nervous, too. I wanted to say my name but not say anything about my brothers. This was about me, not them. I continued, “Instead of reading the announcements, I want to do something different. Here we go.”

  And then … I sang. I sang loud. I sang strong. I sang for the whole school to hear:

  “When the sun hits the clouds

  And rainbows kiss the sky,

  A sweet wind blows, and then I know

  That today is mine, all mine.”

  I knew that most of the kids, especially the girls, were fans of the Crazy Cutie Crew, so I could almost see the kids sitting at their seats and singing the words along with me. Through the walls, I could even hear kids from the classrooms next to the office singing. How cool was that?!

  Nobody told me to sing. I just did it. I knew I was probably going to get in trouble for singing over the PA system, but it just seemed like the right time to shine. When I finished singing “today is mine, all mine” for the second time, Miss Cherrybaum came rushing through the door and then shut it behind her. I switched the microphone off after I told the entire school, “Let’s have a good school year, y’all.” The wide smile Miss Cherrybaum had given me in the hallway had gone away. Miss Cherrybaum pointed at the seat in front of her desk. That meant for me to sit down. So I did.