Horrible Harry and the Scarlet Scissors (3 page)

“I love listing my favorite things!” Ida said.

“Me too,” Song Lee agreed.

While everyone was working, I noticed Harry taking out his old crayon box. It was empty except for one fat green crayon. He shook the crayon out of the box and peeled back the paper. Then he looked at me. “Do you have a pair of scissors, Dougo?” he asked.

“No,” I answered, “but Mary does. Ask her.”

Harry turned around. He looked at Mary’s art supply box on her desk. “Can I borrow those red scissors, Mare?”

“They’re
scarlet
scissors,” she corrected.

“Scarlet who?” Harry asked. He thought she meant they belonged to another girl.

“Scarlet is a bright red color,” Mary insisted. “And haven’t you ever heard of the word
please
?”

Harry flashed a toothy smile. “Puhleeeese, Mare?”

She reached over and pulled them out. “You can borrow these, but you have to give them right back. I might need them.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied. Then he took the scarlet scissors and used one of the tips to gouge holes in the end of his crayon. When he noticed I was watching him, Harry whispered, “I have to get my creative juices going.”

“Wouldn’t you rather use a pencil?” I asked. “I have extra.”

“No thanks, Dougo,” Harry replied. He held up his crayon. “This’ll do.”

Mary looked up from her questionnaire. “Harry, that crayon is creepy. It looks like a ghost’s face!”

“Neato, huh?” Harry said.

Mary shivered. “I want my scarlet scissors back.”

When Harry handed them to her, Mary examined the ends of the blades. There were green crayon markings on one tip. “Harry Spooger! I’m never loaning you anything again!”

Harry just grinned.

Five minutes later, the art teacher asked, “Did everyone finish the questionnaire?”

“Yes!” we all answered.

“Good!” Mrs. Matalata said. “Please
switch papers with the person sitting next to you. Circle the answer that you like best on that person’s list.”

Harry and I got to switch lists. We were psyched. Ida and Song Lee were, too. Mary wasn’t, though. “Why do I have to sit between two annoying boys!” She groaned.

Poor Sid. He didn’t do anything. It was just bad timing—right after Harry got Mary’s scarlet scissors dirty.

Sid took a quick look at Mary’s list and circled one right away. “I like your hobby!” he exclaimed. “You style hair?”

“My
dolls’
hair,” Mary said.

“Do you do people’s hair?” he asked.

Mary thought about it. Slowly, she began to smile. “I could.”

“Would you do my hair after lunch?” he asked. “We have indoor recess again.”

“Sure!” Mary replied, pulling a small notebook out of her desk. “Sidney LaFleur, you are my first booking. I’m putting you down for a twelve thirty appointment. Thank you for launching my new hairstyling business!”

Sid stood up and took a bow.

As soon as Mary looked my way, I quickly turned around. I didn’t want my hair done.

I picked up Harry’s questionnaire.

When I read his answers, my eyeballs almost popped out!

N
ot only was every answer on Harry’s questionnaire written with that creepy green crayon, all his favorite things were green, too!

There was no way I was going to circle broccoli or green python.

“What song is ‘Green, Green’?” I asked.

“You don’t know that one?” Harry replied. “My grandma plays it all the time. It’s from a New Christy Minstrels album. I love the tune.” Harry started singing it:

“Well,” I said. “I can see why you love that song. It’s all about the green grass.”

Harry grinned.

I circled Saint Patrick’s Day. “Are you wearing something green on Friday?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry answered.
“I am definitely wearing green.”

After we exchanged papers again, the art teacher said, “Now I want you to choose
one
favorite thing from your own list and make a poster about it. Maybe your neighbor helped you make this decision. Maybe not. The important thing is that you are excited about it.”

“What if you have trouble drawing your favorite thing?” ZuZu asked.

“Yeah,” Dexter agreed. “I can’t draw Elvis very well.”

“You can use resources, like a picture from a book, or if you’re drawing a shoe, look at your own,” the art teacher suggested. “Study the lines.”

“That could help,” ZuZu said. He reached for our G encyclopedia.

Dexter put two thumbs up. “You just
gave me a cool idea!” And he took off one shoe and set it on his desk.

Everyone got busy drawing posters. Mary took out her hand mirror and studied her face. She drew a picture of her head, then added a fancy hairdo and three words. The art teacher chuckled when she read them.

“I like your message,” she said. “‘Hair by Mare.’ That’s clever.”

Mary beamed. “I’m opening up my own beauty salon right here at school.”

“I’m her first customer,” Sid bragged.

“Client,” Mary corrected. “That’s what they say in real salons.”

“Well, hair styling
is
an art,” Mrs. Matalata said.

Mary threw both of her arms in the air. “Yes!”

The art teacher moved on to Song Lee’s desk. “What kind of tree are you drawing?” she asked.

“It’s a cherry tree,” Song Lee answered softly. “There are lots of those in Korea. That’s where my family is from.”

“How wonderful,” Mrs. Matalata replied.

She came to my desk next. “I love your hobby: ‘Reading about Native Americans.’”

“Thanks,” I said. I was drawing birds on my Plains Indians’ tepee. I found a good picture of one in my library book.

Sidney was drawing his grandfather’s canary perched on his finger. He did a good job on the finger. Sid kept staring at his own as he drew it.

Now I wondered what Harry was drawing. A green stick figure guy celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day? A big head of broccoli? I had never seen Harry work so hard on a drawing before.

When I looked over Harry’s shoulder and saw his poster, my jaw dropped.