Science Fair

  This book

  is in honor of the birth of

  James Holton Gibbel.

  Welcome, James!

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  1 SPRINGTIME

  2 BOBBY GIANELLI

  3 KAREN BREWER

  4 MOUSE BABIES

  5 PET TIME

  6 HARRIET

  7 WATCHING HARRIET

  8 THE MISSING MOUSE

  9 HUNCA MUNCA

  10 LOSERS

  11 THE SCIENCE FAIR

  12 THE FAT MOUSE

  13 BABIES!

  14 AUDREY GREEN

  15 BOBBY AND HARRIET

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  COPYRIGHT

  SPRINGTIME

  “Run, Bobby, run!” yelled Hank Reubens.

  “Yeah, come on!” shouted Chris Lamar. “Slide home, Bobby!”

  Bobby Gianelli slid into home plate. He was grinning.

  “Yes!” shouted Omar Harris.

  “Game over! We win!” cried Bobby. Bobby was very good at sports, and he knew it. He was not so good at school. But for the moment, that did not matter. Recess was not over yet. Bobby would not have to worry about school for another ten minutes. He took off his baseball cap and waved it in the air.

  “Hey, no fair! You boys cheated.”

  Bobby made a face. He knew whose voice that was. It was Karen Brewer’s. The boys in Ms. Colman’s second-grade class were playing softball against the girls in the class. (Well, against some of the girls.) And now, just because the boys had won (won again, thought Bobby), the girls were saying the boys had cheated.

  “Karen Brewer, you are a sore loser,” said Bobby.

  “Am not.”

  “Are, too. Tell me how we cheated. How did we cheat?”

  “We-ell,” said Karen. “You, um …”

  “See? You are just making it up. Sore loser!”

  Bobby turned his back on Karen. He joined the boys — Hank, Chris, Omar, Ricky Torres, and Ian Johnson. Six boys. There were only six boys in Ms. Colman’s room. Sixteen kids altogether — six boys and ten girls. Way too many girls, thought Bobby. Especially when sore-loser, know-it-all Karen was one of them.

  Bobby and his friends plopped down in the dirt by home plate. They sat in the warm spring sun until the bell rang.

  “Darn,” said Bobby. “Recess is over.” Bobby hated the end of recess. But he hated it most of all in the springtime.

  Bobby watched his classmates line up at the back door of Stoneybrook Academy. First in line was Natalie Springer, with her falling-down socks. Some of the kids teased Natalie because she was sloppy and forgetful. Bobby teased her himself from time to time, but the truth was, he thought she was okay. Behind Natalie were the twins, Tammy and Terri Barkan. Behind them were Karen and her two best friends, Nancy Dawes and Hannie Papadakis. They called themselves the Three Musketeers. The first time Bobby had heard that name, he hooted with laughter. Behind the Three Musketeers were their best enemies, Jannie Gilbert and Leslie Morris. Behind them was Sara Ford, who was new at Stoneybrook Academy this year. Behind Sara was Audrey Green, and behind Audrey were Bobby and all the boys. When the next bell rang, the kids walked inside and down the hall to 2A, Ms. Colman’s room.

  Ms. Colman was standing by her desk, waiting for her students. She was smiling. Ms. Colman smiled a lot, which was why Bobby liked her (sort of). She was okay, for a teacher. She had seated Bobby in the front row. That was bad. But he was next to the door to the hallway, which was good. And Chris was seated right behind him, which was even better. Plus, Ms. Colman had let the class choose a pet for their room. They had gotten a guinea pig and named him Hootie. Bobby loved having Hootie in the room. Once, he had been allowed to take Hootie home for the weekend.

  Bobby sighed. He looked at the clock on the wall. He could not wait for the last bell of the day. Then he could go outside again.

  BOBBY GIANELLI

  The moment the bell rang, Bobby leaped out of his seat.

  “ ’Bye!” he called to Chris and the other boys. He hurried along the hallway. He went as fast as he could without actually running.

  “ ’Bye, sore loser!” he called to Karen Brewer.

  “ ’Bye, Bully Bobby!” Karen replied.

  Bobby grinned. He knew that a lot of the kids in his class thought he was a bully. Bobby liked that. He was a bully. He bossed girls and pushed them around. He even bullied some of the boys. A few of the kids were afraid of him. Nancy Dawes was one. But Karen always stood up to Bobby. She was never afraid.

  Karen drove Bobby crazy.

  Bobby ran outside, into the springtime. He saw his mother’s car. From the back, his little sister Alicia waved to him. She was strapped into her car seat. Bobby did not wave back. He did not want his classmates to see him waving to a three-year-old. Especially one whose face was covered with banana slime.

  “Hi, honey,” said Mrs. Gianelli as Bobby opened the car door. “How’s my boy?”

  “Mo-om,” Bobby groaned.

  “Oh, excuse me.” Mrs. Gianelli cleared her throat. “Good afternoon, son. I trust all is well with you.”

  Bobby rolled his eyes.

  “Well, how was school?” asked Mrs. Gianelli as they pulled away.

  “Okay.”

  “How was the spelling test?”

  “Horrible.”

  Bobby had decided that he did not like words. Spelling them, writing them, making them into stories. It all seemed very difficult. He was not much better with numbers. They scared him. And that made Bobby mad. He did not like being scared.

  “What happened with the spelling test?” asked Mrs. Gianelli.

  “I don’t know,” mumbled Bobby. “It was hard, that’s all.”

  “Hey, Bobby,” said Alicia.

  “What?” Bobby turned around.

  “I know how to spell Alicia.”

  “Good for you.”

  “A-L-I-C-I-A,” his sister went on. Then she said, “Bobby, you want to play tag when we get home?”

  Bobby sighed. “Okay. But in the backyard.” Where no one can see us, he thought.

  That afternoon Bobby and Alicia played freeze tag. Alicia had just learned how to play. Now that was all she wanted to do.

  “Hey, Bobby,” said Alicia after awhile. “Here comes Doug. Let’s ask him to play with us.”

  Doug lived across the street. He was eight years old. Bobby did not want Doug to see him playing freeze tag with Alicia. But before he could say anything, he heard Doug say in a teasing, singsong voice, “What are you doing, Bobby? Playing with your little sister?”

  “What is wrong with that?” cried Alicia.

  “Nothing … baby,” said Doug.

  Bobby narrowed his eyes. He stuck out his chin. He made a fist. “What did you call my sister?” he asked Doug.

  Doug backed off. “Um … I did not call her anything,” he replied.

  “Good. Then go back across the street where you belong.”

  Doug turned and ran.

  “Thank you, Bobby,” said Alicia. “You saved my life.”

  Bobby smiled. “Well, not really. Okay, come on. Let’s play.”

  Bobby and Alicia played outside for as long as they could. They played until their father came home from work. Then it was time to go inside for dinner.

  KAREN BREWER

  Monday was another warm and sunny day. “Like summer,” Bobby said to Omar as they walked into room 2A.

  “Yup,” said Omar. “I played outside all weekend. Soon it will be warm enough to go swimming.”

  “We do not even need jackets,” said Bobby happily.

  When it was time for science on that warm day, something different happened. Ms. Colman did not say, “Okay, class, take out your science books.”
Instead she said, “Class, who can name some of the things we have learned about in science this year?”

  Bobby made a face. This sounded like something someone would say before she began talking about a science test.

  Karen Brewer raised her hand. “We have learned about weather,” she said.

  Sara raised her hand. “And animals.”

  “And plants,” said Karen.

  “The planets,” said Ian.

  “What is inside our bodies,” said Karen.

  Doesn’t Karen ever stop talking? wondered Bobby. Karen Brewer was Bobby’s least favorite person in the class. She had a big mouth, and she talked all the time. She was very bossy. And she was a know-it-all, even though she was the youngest kid in the class. Karen was six. Everybody else in Ms. Colman’s class was seven. Some of the kids were almost eight. But Karen had skipped right into second grade from first grade at the beginning of the year. And she always had to let everyone know how smart she was.

  “Very good,” Ms. Colman was saying. “Now, I want you to think about these things, because in a month, Stoneybrook Academy is going to have a science fair.”

  “Cool,” said Audrey.

  “Can I be in it?” asked Ian.

  “Everyone is going to be in it,” Ms. Colman replied.

  Uh-oh, thought Bobby.

  “The kids in kindergarten and first grade and second grade will work in groups. I will assign you to groups, but you may think up your own projects. You will have about three and a half weeks to work on your projects. The two best projects in each class will be chosen to be displayed in the gym. On science-fair night your families and friends may come to the gym to see the projects, and a prize will be given to the best project in each grade.”

  Bobby looked back at Karen. She was wiggling with excitement.

  “Now,” said Ms. Colman, “let me tell you about the projects. A science-fair project should teach something or explain something. Or it could be an experiment. Part of your project must be a report that tells what you did or what you learned.”

  Bobby made another face. He put his head on his desk. The science fair sounded worse and worse. Bobby did not mind science, but he did not love it, either. And he hated writing reports. He also hated working with a group of kids. Unless his group was all boys. That might be okay. But he was pretty sure Ms. Colman would not make up a group like that.

  “All right,” said Ms. Colman. “Now I will assign you to groups. Group One will be Tammy, Hank, and Nancy. Group Two will be Sara, Karen, and Bobby.”

  Karen and Bobby? Bobby shook his head. He hoped he had not heard right. But he knew he had. He had to work on a stupid science-fair project with know-it-all Karen Brewer.

  MOUSE BABIES

  On Tuesday the science-fair groups met for the first time. Ms. Colman let her students move their desks into groups of three or four. Karen, Sara, and Bobby sat in the back of the room.

  “Okay,” began Karen. “Ms. Colman said our projects can be about whatever we want. So —”

  “How about a project about know-it-alls?” said Bobby.

  “That is not science,” replied Karen.

  “Then how about one about barfing? Or farting?”

  This time Karen ignored Bobby. “Sara, what do you like?” she asked.

  Sara thought for a moment. “I liked when we learned about weather. That was exciting. Hurricanes and blizzards.”

  “And tornadoes,” added Karen.

  “Yeah, tornadoes that make cows fly through the air,” said Bobby.

  Karen and Sara both ignored him.

  “Watching our plants grow was exciting too,” said Karen.

  “Especially the beans we grew in jars,” added Sara.

  “Beans make you fart,” spoke up Bobby. “See? We could do a science project about fa —”

  “Bobby, that is disgusting,” cried Karen.

  “Gross,” added Sara. “Now stop it.”

  Karen almost said, “Or we will tell Ms. Colman.” But she decided not to. She did not want to be called a tattletale.

  “Okay. How about a project about animals?” said Karen.

  Bobby shook his head. “Nope. Only farts.”

  Karen and Sara stared at Bobby.

  “Bobby,” said Sara. “This is serious —”

  “No. It is stupid,” said Bobby. “Science is stupid. Science projects are stupid. And science fairs are stupid.”

  “How can you say that?” cried Karen.

  “Don’t you care if our project is chosen to be shown in the gym?” asked Sara. “Don’t you care if it wins a prize?”

  “No, I do not,” said Bobby.

  “Kids? Is everything all right over there?” Ms. Colman called to Bobby’s group. “Do I need to sit in with you for awhile?”

  “No, no,” Bobby replied quickly.

  “Bobby, if you are not going to help,” Karen whispered to him, “then just be quiet. Let Sara and me talk.”

  Bobby clamped his mouth shut. He listened to Karen and Sara talk about animals and animal habits and animal babies. Bobby had to admit (just to himself, of course) that even if he did not like science, he did like animals. A lot. After all, he had a dog. He would not mind learning about a little mouse or something. But he would mind having to write a report about the mouse.

  “I know!” Karen cried suddenly. “We could get a mouse who is going to have babies soon, and we could study her. You know, see what she eats and watch her grow fatter. Maybe weigh her. And then we can study the babies when they are born. And we can write about them, and how the mother takes care of them.”

  “Cool!” cried Sara.

  Bobby did not say a word. This sounded like far too much measuring and writing and reporting.

  “Ms. Colman!” said Karen. “Our group decided on a project!”

  Karen and Sara told their teacher about their idea. “That sounds wonderful,” said Ms. Colman. “As long as you can find a mouse who is going to have babies. And soon. There is not much time before the science fair. We had better go to a pet shop as soon as possible.”

  PET TIME

  That very evening, Ms. Colman called Bobby’s parents and Sara’s parents and Karen’s parents. The grown-ups decided that the kids would go to Pet Time, a new pet store in Stoneybrook. They would go the next day after school. Ms. Colman and Karen’s mother would go with them.

  Bobby liked Pet Time. He liked it for two reasons. He liked to see the animals, of course. But he also liked Pet Time because it did not sell cats or dogs or larger animals. That was good, thought Bobby. He hated to see cats and dogs cooped up in little cages. They always looked bored and lonely and scared. Plus, thought Bobby, it was easy to find a dog or a cat without going to a store. There were lots of stray animals at the shelter just waiting to be adopted — and for free. Bobby did not mind the mice and fish and smaller animals in the cages at Pet Time. They did not look sad, and they were harder to find in other places. But Bobby did wonder if he and Karen and Sara would find a mouse who was going to have babies soon.

  Angela Boone was the owner of Pet Time. She greeted Bobby’s group when they entered the store. “Good afternoon,” she said.

  “Good afternoon,” replied Ms. Colman.

  “We need some help!” spoke up Karen.

  “Indoor voice, please,” Karen’s mother reminded her.

  “Well, I am here to help. My name is Angela Boone, and I own this store. Please call me Angela,” said the store owner.

  “Angela,” said Sara, “what we need is a mouse.”

  “A girl mouse,” added Bobby.

  “Who is going to have babies,” said Karen.

  “Soon,” added Ms. Colman.

  Angela raised her eyebrows.

  “It is for our science-fair project,” Sara explained.

  “We are going to watch the mouse, and weigh her and measure her,” Karen began to say.

  “And write stuff,” said Bobby with a scowl.

  “Then we are going to tell ab
out when she has her babies,” Sara went on. “What they look like, and how many there are, and what they do. All those things.”

  “The only problem,” said Ms. Colman, “is that the science fair is in about a month. So we need to find a mouse who is going to have her babies in less than three weeks.”

  Angela smiled. “No problem,” she said. “I have a great idea. I happen to have a mouse who should have babies in just that time. I would be happy to let you borrow her until after she has the babies. I cannot sell her now anyway. Nobody wants to buy a mouse who is going to have babies soon. She could have as many as fourteen, you know.”

  “Fourteen!” exclaimed Bobby.

  “Yes,” said Angela. “So why don’t you borrow her? Then return her to me in a few weeks with the babies, and I will be able to sell her and sell the babies. That will work out well for both of us. It is a good business deal.”

  “Cool,” said Karen and Sara.

  Angela walked to a cage in the middle of the store. She reached in, pulled out a fat white mouse, put her in a small box, and handed the box to Bobby. Bobby grinned when he peered inside.

  “Do you need anything else?” asked Angela.

  “No, thank you,” replied Ms. Colman. “I think we have everything else at school. We will let you know how the mouse is doing. And we will return her and her babies in a few weeks.”

  HARRIET

  Bobby and his group walked out of Pet Time. Bobby handed the mouse to Ms. Colman.

  “Thank you, Bobby,” said Ms. Colman. “I will take the mouse back to school now and set her up in the spare cage. Tomorrow you three may begin working on your project.”

  Bobby did not know whether to feel pleased or sad. Already he liked the mouse very much. He just did not want to study her and write about her.

  In school the next morning, the kids in Ms. Colman’s class saw the mouse cage the moment they walked through the door into room 2A. They crowded around the cage.

  Karen stood up on a chair. “Stand back!” she cried. “Please do not crowd the mouse. She is going to have babies. And you are making her nervous. That is not good for her.”