9. Spelling Counts

9 Spelling Counts We climbed back onto the bus. Mrs. Bacon sat in the first row by herself. A few minutes later, I heard strange sounds coming from her seat. That's when I realized she was crying. I didn't think Mrs. Bacon was fakin'. We all went to the front of the bus to

give her hugs and tissues. That's what you do when somebody's crying. "What's the matter, Mrs. Bacon?" asked Emily. Mrs. Bacon wiped her face. "I'm a big failure," she whimpered. "The recital next week is going to be a disaster. I don't know what to do. You kids aren't ready. I only have a half an hour a week to teach you how to play all the songs. It's not enough time. You're not practicing at home. I'm stressed out. Dr. Carbles is going to fire me, and nobody will ever hire me again. My career is over."

Then she started crying again. "Don't worry, Mrs. Bacon," said Andrea. "Everything is going to be okay." "We're going to put on a great show at the recital," said Alexia. "Yeah," I added. "We're going to make you proud of us. We're going to practice really hard." And we did. We practiced like crazy

all week. I didn't waste my time playing video games or lining up my Pez dispensers. All I did was practice playing tuba. I played "Hot Cross Buns" so many times, I was really beginning to feel the buns.* Finally, the day of our big recital arrived. I had to wear a tie to school. Ugh! A sign in the front said we should walk around to the playground. There were a bunch of chairs set up out there, and lots of grown-ups—Mrs. Bacon, Mr. Klutz, Mr. Cooper, Mr. Loring. Dr. Carbles was there too, with his mean face. "It's such a beautiful day," said Mrs. Bacon, "I thought it would be nice to have the recital outdoors. I'm going to pass out—" "She's gonna pass out!" I yelled.

"Give her air!" "I'm going to pass out programs," continued Mrs. Bacon. "I made them myself." Mrs. Bacon handed everybody one of her programs. People were ushered to their seats by the PTA. That stands for "Parents who talk a lot." Ryan's mom, Mrs. Dole, is president of the PTA. She was carrying a big platter. "Guess what I made?" she said. "What?" everybody asked. "Hot cross buns!" said Mrs. Dole. She passed out buns to the audience, but we couldn't eat any yet because it was time to take our places on the stage. Bummer in the summer! "Are you nervous?" Ryan asked me as he picked up his French horn.

"Yeah." We were all on pins and needles. Well, not really. We were sitting on chairs. If we were on pins and needles, it would have hurt. But there was electricity in the air. Well, not really. If there was electricity in the air, we would get electrocuted. Mr. Klutz held up his hand and made a peace sign, which means shut up. "Welcome to the third-grade recital," he announced. "The students have been working very hard on their music, and they're excited to play for you today. Ready, kids?" Mrs. Bacon raised her chopstick, and we played "Hot Cross Buns." It was great.