Junie B., First Grader_ One-Man Band - Barbara Park [1]
Mother waited for me to answer.
Then, very slow, her eyes glanced over to her cow.
He had a giant dent in his head.
Also, his nose did not look normal.
Mother did a frown. “Junie B.?” she said very suspicious. “What's the story here?”
I looked back at her real impressed.
That woman is sharp as a tack, I tell you.
Finally, I did a sigh. And I told her the story here.
“Yeah, only this wasn't even my fault, Mother,” I said. “It really, really wasn't. On account of at first I was practicing my kicking. And then my ball went over the fence. And so what was I supposed to do? Kick air?”
I did a thumbs-up.
“But good news!” I said. “’Cause just then I saw your cow can! And so I ran at him with all my might! And then I kicked him as hard as I could!
“Only too bad for me. ’Cause that stupid thing was filled with water! And now I have a smashed piggy toe.”
I thought for a minute.
Then I folded my hands in my lap very quiet.
“The end,” I said.
Mother did not look happy with me. “Gee, imagine that. A watering can actually had water in it. How unusual,” she said.
That is called sarcastic, I believe.
After that, Mother carried me inside. And she called the doctor. And he told her to raise it up on a pillow and use ice.
And so guess what?
At first, it felt a little better.
Only this morning when I got dressed, it hurt to put on my shoe. And so—even though it was chilly outside—Mother said I could wear sandals to school.
And so that's how come I keep checking on it this morning. To see if it's feeling any better.
I closed my journal real quiet. Then I bent over in my chair. And I patted my toe very gentle.
Next to me, May made a face.
“You shouldn't play with your feet, Junie Jones,” she whispered. “Playing with feet is what stinky people do.”
I stuck out my tongue at that girl.
I still get a kick out of that behavior.
After that, I sat back up again. And I stacked my first-grade dictionary on top of my journal.
Then I laid my head on my desk. And I daydreamed about the kickball tournament some more.
In my dream, I was the only person in Room One who could kick the ball.
That's because all of the other children in Room One had broken legs. On account of accidents happen sometimes.
And so I played in the tournament all by myself.
And I won the whole darned thing without any help!
I was the star of Room One!
All of my friends shouted and cheered.
Then they hugged me very happy. And they threw confetti on my head.
Only not May. May threw a small potato.
That was uncalled for, I believe.
I stayed in my daydream a real long time. Also, I think I snored a little bit.
Then—all of a sudden—SMACK!
Mr. Scary clapped his loud hands together!
And that noise scared the daylights out of me, I tell you!
I jumped straight up in my seat. And my arms flinged out very crazy!
Then my hand knocked into my dictionary!
And oh no! Oh no!
That heavy book went over the edge of my desk! And it landed on my sore toe!
“OW!” I shouted real loud. “OW OW OW OW OW!!”
I reached for my foot. And I started to cry.
Mr. Scary came running back to me.
Then he quick sent Herbert to the school nurse to get some ice.
And hurray for Herbert! ’Cause he brought that woman back with him!
Her name is Mrs. Weller.
I know her from previous accidents.
Mrs. Weller gave me some tissues. And she put an ice bag on my piggy toe.
It felt heavy and soggy on that sore guy.
I pulled my foot away. But she put it right back again.
“Please, Junie B.,” said Mrs. Weller. “If you just keep this ice on your toe, it will start to feel better. I promise.”
I shook my head real fast.
“No, it won't, Mrs. Weller,” I said. “I know it won't. ’Cause Mother already put ice on that same toe yesterday. But today it still hurt. And that's how come I had to wear sandals to school.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “You mean this poor toe was already injured before you came to school today?”
I did a sniffle.
“Yes,” I said. “It was injured a real lot, Mrs. Weller. On account of yesterday I kicked a cow. And that thing was solid as a rock, I tell you.”