7. Mess Rehearsal

Chapter 7 Mess Rehearsal "First, I want all you bees to put on your antennae," said Ms. Diz. Real bees use their head bobbles to smell and feel things. But ours were just made of pipe cleaners and Styrofoam balls. With glitter on them. They were attached to a plastic headband thingie. Shaped like a great big upside-down U.

Last year the third graders used the bobbles for a play about butterflies. So the headbands were a little stretched out by their gigantic third-grade heads. When we were ready, Ms. Diz went to the music cupboard. She handed each drummer two red tapping sticks. We use the sticks for Music Time. They are our instruments. Only really I would rather have a drum set. Or a tuba. "I know how much fun the sticks are, children," said Ms. Diz. "But as you may recall, some of you got a little carried away yesterday." I think maybe she was looking at me.

But I wasn't the only one who got in stick trouble. Gus was the one who started the pretend sword fight. I was Not Guilty. Mostly. "Our rhythm section sits in the chairs," said Ms. Diz. "Nice and still." That was me. And Gus. And Dewan and Maria and Coco. "All the other bees in the back row," said Ms. Diz. "Standing up nice and tall." We got into our places. Bees and bee drummers. Bobbles and sticks.

We were ready for action. "Okay, let's sing nice and clear," said Ms. Diz. "And no poking with the sticks." "How about swords?" Dewan asked. "No swords," said Ms. Diz. "How about death rays?" Gus asked. "No death rays," said Ms. Diz. "When I count to three, start singing!" Here is how our bee song goes: Buzzy bees, fuzzy bees, Look at us fly! Bees are the best bugs! You want to know why?

We make our own honey and soar in the sky. Can you do what we do? We dare you to try! "Great job!" said Ms. Diz when we were done. "Roscoe, you sound especially wonderful. But we need to hear the other kids too." "He's blowing out my eardrums, Ms. Diz," Coco complained. "My head bobbles keep falling off!" Wyatt said. Ms. Diz took a deep breath. "I know the antennae don't fit very well, children. Just do the best you can. Let's try the song one more time. This time, let me hear those sticks pounding out the rhythm!"

We sang again. I was not so loud this time. But if you ask me, they were missing out. "Better," said Ms. Diz when we were done. "My bobbles keep falling in my eyes!" Hassan said. "Oh, dear," said Ms. Diz. "Maybe we should just forget about the antennae." "But we have to have bobbles!" Coco cried. "Otherwise how will our parents know we're bees?"