Junie B., First Grader_ One-Man Band - Barbara Park [3]
I wrinkled my eyebrows at her.
“A bruise?” I said. “That's all it is? It's just a bruise?”
Mother nodded. “Yes. It's just a bruise, Junie B.,” she said. “But I'm afraid it's going to be a little painful to wear shoes for a while.”
Daddy sat down next to me.
“Don't worry, though, honey,” he said. “As soon as it grows out, it will look normal again.”
He pointed to his bare foot. “Look at mine. I've bruised my big toenail many times over the years. But it's always grown out as good as new. See?”
I looked at it and made a face.
Daddy's big toe is not attractive.
Just then, tears came in my eyes.
I touched my toe very gentle.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! It hurts even worser than yesterday,” I said. “And so now what am I supposed to do? ’Cause I don't even want to wear sandals to school again. On account of sandals don't protect toes from getting hurt.”
Mother thought for a minute.
Then she went to my closet. And she got out my old red sneakers. And she cut a hole in the top of one of them with my scissors.
She held it up for me to see.
“Ta-daaaaa,” she said real singy.
And ha! What do you know? The hole was right where my sore piggy toe would be!
Mother helped me put on my red socks. Then she slid the holey sneaker on my foot very careful.
And surprise, surprise!
It didn't even hurt, hardly!
After breakfast, Mother drove me to school again.
Only at first, when I went to my room, I felt kind of shy about my sneaker hole. And so I snuck to my seat and I showed it to my friend Herb in private.
And guess what?
Herbert's whole face lighted up.
“A window,” he said. “You've got a window in your shoe.”
I did a giggle at that idea.
“Hey, yeah,” I said. “A piggy toe window.”
Just then, Sheldon came hurrying into Room One.
He had a shiny red Band-Aid on his forehead.
He stood in the front of the room. And he pointed to it with his finger.
“No one touch this, please!” he said real loud.
He turned to Mr. Scary.
“Even though I came back to school today, I'm still not totally right up here,” he said.
Mr. Scary nodded. “Oh yes, Sheldon. I'm very aware of that,” he said.
Sheldon kept on talking. “I probably shouldn't play in the kickball tournament on Friday, either,” he said. “’Cause what if I'm standing at home plate … and a ball starts rolling at me … and then it hits a rock … and it bounces up and smacks me in the Band-Aid … and I get a bump on top of my bump?”
He did a little shiver. “Double bumps would not be good,” he said.
Mr. Scary looked at him.
“No, Sheldon. Double bumps would not be good,” he said. “But don't worry. Between now and then I'm sure we can come up with something else you can do in the tournament.”
After that, Mr. Scary glanced over at me. “And don't you worry, either, Junie B.,” he said. “We'll think of something else you can do, too. Okay?”
I raised my eyebrows at that guy.
“Yeah, but I don't want to do something else, Mr. Scary,” I said. “I want to play in the kickball game. I've been practicing really hard.”
Mr. Scary smiled kind of sad.
“Yes. I'm sure you have, Junie B.,” he said. “But your toe is already sore. And I doubt if you'll feel like kicking a ball with it by Friday.”
I sat there a minute.
’Cause I never even thought of that problem before.
All of a sudden, my shoulders felt very slumping.
I put my head on my desk. And I hid under my sweater.
’Cause now I would never be the star of the kickball tournament.
And that had been the happiest daydream of my life.
After I got done writing, I heard talking in the front of the room.
I looked up.
Lucille was standing at Mr. Scary's desk.
Camille and Chenille were standing there, too.
All of them were blabbering at the exact same time.
Mr. Scary covered his ears.
Finally, he said whoa, whoa, whoa at them. And he pointed for them to sit back down.
After that, Mr. Scary stood up. And he walked to the front of the room.
“Boys and girls … it has come to my attention that not everyone in Room One wants to play in the kickball tournament,” he said.
His eyes glanced over