Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie (8 page)

When the phone rang that night,

I figured it was probably a work call

for my mom.

But she brought me the phone.

“It's for you,” she said.

I held the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I said.

“Eleanor! It's Pearl!” my best friend shouted.

“Pearl!” I shouted back.

“Are you home yet?”

“I wish, wish, wish I was,” she said.

“But I'm still in Oregon.

It rains here all the time.”

Then she said,

“My face is raining, too.

With tears.

Because I'm missing you.”

Pearl talks in poems sometimes.

She's going to be a famous poet someday.

I just know it.

“When will you be back?” I asked.

“Wednesday,” she said.

“In the late afternoon.

Mark your calendar!”

“I will,” I said. “As soon as I hang up.”

“And school starts on Thursday!” Pearl said.

“Will you pick me up on the way?”

“Of course we'll pick you up,” I said.

Just then

I remembered

that Pearl didn't know.

About Bibi.

I almost didn't say anything.

Because it felt very hard to say anything.

But I took a deep breath

and I said,

“Bibi moved away.”

“She
did
?” Pearl said.

“Yes,” I said. “She did.”

“Why?” Pearl said.

I told her why.

“You must feel terrible,” Pearl said.

“Your heart must feel like a mirror that fell

and shattered in a million pieces.”

I thought about that.

“That's exactly right,” I said.

“Don't worry,” she said.

“I'll be home soon.

I'll cheer you up.”

I heard Pearl's mom say something in the background.

“I have to go,” Pearl said.

“Wait!” I said.

Because I'd just remembered

that I needed to ask her something.

“Is my handwriting messy?” I asked.

“What?” Pearl said.

“Is my handwriting messy?” I asked again.

“I don't think so,” Pearl said.

“I like your handwriting.”

Then we hung up.

And right away I went to mark the calendar.

That's when I realized

that it wasn't August anymore.

It was September.

My dad had some time off from work the next day.

So we sat outside together

and waited for Val.

While we waited

I asked him,

“If you had to write about a famous person,

who would you write about?”

“What a great question,” he said.

“Let me think.”

He did some thinking.

Then he said,

“I might write about Amelia Bloomer.”

“Who's that?” I asked.

“She's famous for wearing pants,” he said.

“Long ago, when women only wore long, heavy skirts

that were hard to move around in,

Amelia Bloomer thought

they should get to wear pants, too.”

“Oh,” I said.

I was worried.

I knew nothing at all about famous people.

Then I wondered

if the Bloomer lady's pants

were ever too big.

And then I saw Val,

waving at us.

We hurried to her.

“This is my dad,” I said.

“Nice to meet you,” Val said.

Then she said,

“One moment, please.”

And from the top of her bag,

she pulled out a letter.

“For Miss Eleanor Abigail Kane,” she said.

“But don't get too excited.”

“Why not?” I asked.

I took the envelope

and looked at it

and saw

why not.

It wasn't from Bibi.

It was from my school.

I opened that thick envelope

and pulled out a long letter.

And while Val delivered the rest of her mail,

I read that long letter with my dad.

It said:

Dear Third Graders,

My name is Mr. Campanelli.

I am your new teacher.

I hope you are having a wonderful summer.

I am getting ready for the start of third grade.

Here are four things I am doing to get ready.

First, I am setting up our classroom.

I want everything to be ready when you get here.

Second, I am going to get a haircut.

Because when my hair gets too long

it gets a little crazy.

Third, I have picked out the shirt I will wear

on our first day.

It is a green-and-blue checked shirt.

It is my favorite shirt.

I wear it on special occasions.

And the first day of school is a very special occasion.

I have enclosed a picture of me in my favorite shirt

so you can know what I'll look like

on the first day of school.

Except my hair will be a little less crazy.

Fourth, I am reading a little every day.

Because reading is a very important part of third grade.

And it is good to get in the habit of reading every day.

I recommend that you start reading a little every day, too,

to help you get ready for third grade.

And, if you want,

you could send me a picture of you.

You could draw it

or take it with a camera.

Whatever you like.

I have included an empty envelope addressed to me.

Just put the picture in and mail it off.

Don't worry about whether the picture will arrive

before school starts.

I will enjoy getting it

whenever it comes.

I look forward to receiving your pictures

and seeing all of you in person

and having a terrific school year.

I like to draw.

So I decided to draw

a picture for Mr. Campanelli.

Before I started drawing,

my dad asked,

“Do you know what you'll wear

on the first day of school?”

“Yes,” I said.

I went to my closet

and showed him my white sundress.