Horrible Harry and the Scarlet Scissors (2 page)

A
ll of us watched a picture come on the TV screen. It was our school library. The camera zoomed in on two fifth graders, a girl and a boy, sitting at a table. There was a globe next to them.

“Welcome to South School’s first TV broadcast,” the girl said. “My name is Bria, and this is Kemba.” The boy waved. “We’re
not
just going to read the lunch menu, or tell you the weather, or
whose birthday it is. We are going to talk about what’s new at South School.”

Kemba continued, “And we begin with exciting news! South School has a new art teacher. Please welcome Mrs. Matalata!”

Everyone in Room 3B clapped. We never had an art teacher before! We watched a woman wearing a long, flowing, colored scarf join the fifth graders at the table.

“You have an interesting name,” Bria said. “What nationality is Matalata?”

“Indonesian,” the art teacher replied.

Bria reached for the
nearby globe and pointed to a group of islands. The camera panned in on the South Pacific area. “Indonesia is near the Philippines, Malaysia, and Australia,” she said.

“How cool to be from the South Pacific!” Sid blurted out.

“Shhhh!” Mary scolded. “I don’t want to miss a word.”

“What advice do you have for kids at South School who want to be good artists?” Kemba asked.

Mrs. Matalata looked at the camera. “Draw what you love.”

“All right!” Kemba replied.

Bria smiled. “Are you planning anything special for your first week here at South School?”

“Yes. An art show!” Mrs. Matalata
said. “We’re going to make posters and display them throughout the school.”

When lots of kids cheered in our room, Harry and I looked at each other.

“Well, that leaves us out,” I groaned. “They only pick the best art for art shows.”

“That’s the way it always is,” Harry said, slouching down in his chair.

“What fun!” Bria replied. “Is there a theme, like Saint Patrick’s Day? It’s coming up this Friday.”

Mrs. Matalata shook her head. “No specific theme. I just want students to draw a poster showing something they care about.”

“Will there be ribbons and prizes for the best posters?” Kemba asked.

“No. This is not a contest,” Mrs. Matalata
replied. “Every student will have his or her poster displayed somewhere at South School.”

“
Every
student?” Harry and I repeated. Harry sat up.

“Yes!” Sid said, throwing his arms in the air.

“I like our new art teacher!” Ida exclaimed.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay, Harry,” she said in a low voice, “I hope for your sake your poster is displayed inside a dark closet.”

Harry smiled for the first time that morning. “Actually, Mare, I like your idea. That would be a neat place for a poster,” he said. “Especially if I draw night crawlers. They love the dark.”

Mary cringed. “I was just kidding,
Harry! The inside of a closet is a
horrible
place to hang art!”

I had to laugh.

What came next on the TV program was the biggest news of all.

The art teacher spoke directly into the microphone. “On Thursday, three days from now, I will ask a handful of third and fourth graders to share their art posters on this TV station. Next week, I’ll ask the younger children.”

Room 3B turned quiet.

Go on TV?

Suddenly, our room broke out in cheers. We could hear other kids clapping and cheering from rooms down the hall.

“Oh,” Mary sighed. “I’ve always wanted to go on television. This is my big chance!”

“Mine, too!” Dexter exclaimed. “I want to be like Elvis. He went on TV and made movies!”

Mary took out her package of sixty-four crayons from her art supply box and admired their good condition. They all had points. Then she pulled out her favorite crayon, burnt sienna, and kissed it. No one ever got to borrow that one. Mary always said it was the perfect blend of red and brown.

“I’m ready to make the best poster!” she announced.

M
rs. Matalata came to Room 3B immediately after the morning broadcast. When she entered our room, it was like she was a rock star. Everyone oohed and ahhed. Her scarf billowed behind her. She wheeled in a cart with a stack of white art paper and brand-new boxes of eight crayons.

Miss Mackle welcomed her with a hug, then left the room.

“Hello, boys and girls!” Mrs. Matalata said. “Are you ready to do some art?”

“Yes!” we replied.

Mrs. Matalata wrote something on the board.

“What do you think this quote means?” she asked.

Ida raised her hand. “I think it means pretty jewelry.”

“I don’t know what
beholder
means,” ZuZu said.

“I do,” Sid replied. “A beholder is like the cup holder in your car. Except it’s a holder for a bee. A bee holder. Right?”

“No,” Mary scoffed. “A beholder is someone who sees something.”

“I know what that saying means,” Harry blurted out.

We all stared at Harry. What would he know about art? Everybody knew Harry was a horrible artist.

Harry continued, “My grandma says, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ all the time. It means we have different eyeballs.”

The art teacher smiled.

I still didn’t understand the quote.

Song Lee raised her hand. “I think Harry means that we see things differently.”

Mary nodded. “Harry and I definitely see things differently. He thinks hanging a poster in a dark closet is neat! I think it’s horrible.”

Lots of us laughed, including the art teacher.

“Anyone else?” Mrs. Matalata asked.

ZuZu raised his hand. “I agree with
Harry. We do have different eyeballs. I think Jou Jou, my guinea pig, is beautiful. My sister thinks he’s smelly and ugly.”

Mrs. Matalata clapped her hands. “Those were perfect examples of how beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Mary and Zuzu beamed.

“All right!” Dexter exclaimed. “Let’s get rockin’ and rollin’ with art!”

The teacher chuckled. “Okay, now I want you to draw something that
you
think is beautiful.”

The room suddenly turned quiet. No one made a mark on their paper.

“I know what I can do!” Harry blurted out.

Mary just made a long face.

M
ary put her hands on her head. “Well, I don’t know what to draw on my poster.”

“Me, either,” lots of us said.

Mrs. Matalata passed out questionnaires. “Filling these out will help you discover what you think is beautiful. Maybe one answer will pop out and inspire you to make a poster.”

I looked at the questionnaire. There were fifteen blanks to fill.