News From Me, Lucy McGee Read online

  Text copyright © 2018 by Mary Amato

  Art copyright © 2018 by Jessica Meserve

  All Rights Reserved

  HOLIDAY HOUSE is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

  First Edition

  www.holidayhouse.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Amato, Mary, author.

  Title: News from me, Lucy McGee / by Mary Amato.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Holiday House, [2017]

  Summary: Lucy avoids her school’s new Uke Club to help neighbor

  Scarlet create a Poetry Club, although Scarlet keeps telling her to do things that seem wrong.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016058464 | ISBN 9780823438716 (hardcover)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Behavior—Fiction. | Clubs—Fiction. | Honesty—Fiction.

  Ukulele—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.A49165 New 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016058464

  Ebook ISBN 9780823441327

  v5.4

  a

  For Busy Graham, Ukes on the Move, and all those kids and uke-loving librarians out there who light up when it’s time to sing.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: News from Me, Lucy McGee

  Chapter Two: Open Your Eyes, Here’s My Surprise

  Chapter Three: Sing Along to My Song

  Chapter Four: For Me? What Will It Be?

  Chapter Five: Think Pink

  Chapter Six: A Bubble and Some Trouble

  Chapter Seven: Funny Money

  Chapter Eight: Unsteal, For Real

  Chapter Nine: Why Can’t There Be Two of Me?

  Chapter Ten: Who Wants a Sad Dad?

  Chapter Eleven: Big Little Pigs

  Chapter Twelve: Happy Feet? Not Me.

  Chapter Thirteen: Should I Go? Yes or No?

  Chapter Fourteen: Oh Dear, the Big Day Is Here!

  Chapter Fifteen: A Chilling Spilling

  Chapter Sixteen: Frowns and Letdowns

  Chapter Seventeen: Make-It-Better Letters

  Chapter Eighteen: Sneaky Me

  Chapter Nineteen: Lookie, Lookie, Cookies

  Chapter Twenty: Strumming and Humming

  Chapter Twenty-One: Me on TV

  Chapter Twenty-Two: The End of Friends?

  The Songwriting Club Songs

  Excerpt from Sing with Me, Lucy Mcgee

  About the Author

  Surprises are my favorite thing in the whole world unless it’s a bad surprise. Bad surprises are things like no potato chips in your lunch. Good surprises are things like your dad calling up your mom at work and saying, “What the heck, let’s get Lucy a puppy.” That hasn’t happened yet, but I keep hoping.

  At recess today, I got a big surprise. Scarlett Tandy said she had a secret to tell me.

  First she pulled me to the bottom of the hill so no one could hear. Then she said, “Lucy, I am going to have a new club. The Craft Club. Only girls who are invited can come. We’re going to do fancy crafts and eat cookies and drink tea in real china cups.”

  I couldn’t believe Scarlett Tandy was talking to me! Scarlett lives next to the school. She has a fat white cat named Princess Coconut and a sister, Brandy, in kindergarten and a pink bedroom with white carpeting that her sister can’t play in. I don’t know about the cat. She is rich. I don’t think we’re rich, because we don’t have white carpeting and everybody can go in all the rooms.

  “I love crafts!” I said. “I love cookies! I love tea!”

  “You know the garden shed in my backyard? My parents said I could have it. I’m going to turn it into a beautiful Craft Cottage with art supplies,” she said. “That’s where the club is going to meet.”

  “That sounds amazing,” I said.

  “I’m picking you to help me fix it up,” she said. “Just you. Aren’t you excited?” She started jumping up and down.

  “I am! I am!” I started jumping up and down, too.

  “We’ll run to my house right after school,” she said. “Yay! Yay! Yay!”

  I stopped jumping. I had a problem. The new Songwriting Club at my school was having its first meeting today after school. My dad signed me up. He does things like that without asking me.

  “Can we fix it up on another day?” I asked.

  “No. I have lessons the other days,” she said. “Say yes, Lucy!”

  This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  When Scarlett and I were in first grade I had playdates at her house, and she let me look at her dolls and dollhouse, but I couldn’t touch anything. I haven’t been to her house since first grade. That’s because Victoria and Mara and Resa got to be her best friends and also because Scarlett has violin and gymnastics. I am bad at lessons. I took violin and gymnastics at the same time as Scarlett and Victoria, and I couldn’t do either, and I think that’s why Scarlett stopped liking me.

  “I’m supposed to go to the Songwriting Club,” I said.

  She made a face. “Phillip Lee’s club? My club is going to be way better. Just pretend you went to his club. Your parents will never know. This is going to be so much fun!”

  Scarlett was inviting me to help her get the Craft Cottage ready. Not Victoria or Mara or Resa. Just me. Lucy McGee. I made up my mind. I was going to Scarlett’s instead of the Songwriting Club. I was going to be sneaky.

  “It’s Wild Wednesday,” Mr. Hopkin said. He’s the art teacher at Slido Creek Elementary. Once a month in class we get to go wild and make whatever we want.

  I decided to make a surprise present for Scarlett. All during art class, Mr. Hopkin let me work on the floor behind his desk so it could be a secret. Then he gave me a bag to put it in. I love Mr. Hopkin.

  I was going to wait until Scarlett and I got to her house to give her the present, but I couldn’t wait. As soon as school was over and we went outside, I took it out of my backpack.

  “Ta-da,” I said, and held it out.

  Her face looked funny. “What is it?”

  “It’s a decoration for the Craft Cottage,” I said. “I know you love white and pink and cats and crafts, so I put it all together.” I handed her a sculpture of her cat, Princess Coconut. I made it out of white clay and pink pipe cleaners. I wanted to make it sparkly, but Mr. Hopkin didn’t have white glitter, so I painted the whole cat with glue and sprinkled it with sugar that he had on his desk for his coffee. I also made a card with a poem in my fanciest writing.

  I am a decoration.

  I know I look delicious.

  Don’t eat me ‘cause I’m made of

  stuff that’s not nutritious.

  I cannot say meow

  and I cannot purr.

  I do not have a tail

  and I do not have fur.

  Don’t pet me or my sugar

  will come off and that’s bad.

  Then I will be naked

  and you will be sad.

  “It’s very…um…creative, Lucy,” she said.

  “I can make you a pumpkin for Halloween and a turkey for Thanksgiving,” I said.

  “Well…the decorations for the Craft Cottage should be really pretty,” she said. Then she called out to her sister, who was with the other kindergartners. “Hey, Brandy, we’re going. Say good-bye to your little friends and get moving.”

  Brandy stuck her tongue out at Scarlett and ran ahead of us. Scarlett started chasing her, so I carried the Princess Coconut sculpture.

  When we got to her house, Brandy went inside to watch TV, and Scarlett and I went through the gate to her backyard. The garden shed was smaller than I remembered. The brown
walls were splattered with dirt, and the window was cracked. It looked like a sad, lumpy troll with one broken eye. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “I got the supplies ready for us this morning,” she said proudly.

  She opened the door. There was a bucket, a sponge, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, a spray bottle of cleaning stuff, and a pretty pink box. There was also a bunch of old garden tools.

  “What’s in the box?” I asked.

  She set it outside on the patio table. “These are art supplies. One person is going to draw what the cottage should look like when it’s done.” She pulled out colored pencils and nice drawing paper.

  “What’s the other person going to do?” I asked.

  “Clean the cottage,” she said. “It’ll be fun.” She wrote “Craft Cottage” on the top of the drawing paper in fancy letters.

  I peeked inside the shed. It was dark and smelled scary.

  “I think whoever is best at art and at fancy writing should do the drawing part,” she said. “Who do you think is better…me or you?” She drew the outline of the shed and quickly added some flowers around the edges.

  “Well…” I put my sculpture on the patio table so she could see it sparkle. “We’re both really good,” I said. “But you—”

  “Thanks!” She pointed to the rubber gloves and the bucket. “I’ll draw. You can be like Snow White. You can whistle while you work.”

  I’m not good at whistling, so I just worked.

  And worked.

  And worked.

  Just me. And a lot of dead bugs.

  When Scarlett told me to throw out a bunch of garbage, I saw my sculpture in the trash can. I blinked three times because I couldn’t believe it.

  Scarlett must have put it there by accident. I picked it up and put it on the floor in the cottage when she wasn’t looking. And then I worked.

  And worked.

  And worked.

  I was sweeping up the very last spiderweb when Scarlett came rushing in. “Lucy, put everything away,” she said. “I heard my mom’s car in the driveway. You have to go.”

  “I’m all done,” I said. “Surprise!”

  Scarlett looked at the cat sculpture in the corner and almost screamed. Ants were crawling all over it! That’s what you call a bad surprise.

  “Yuck. Get it out of here and go,” Scarlett said.

  I carried my Princess Coconut sculpture to the garbage can, and those ants didn’t stop nibbling at it.

  “Well, at least you guys like it,” I whispered to the ants.

  Working on the Craft Cottage was not as much fun as I thought. But Scarlett said that next Wednesday she’ll have another surprise for me. I’m so excited I feel like I’m going to throw up!

  My baby sister, Lily, was getting eaten up by a crocodile when I got home. The crocodile was my brother, Leo. Leo is five and Lily is two. Leo was on his belly on the kitchen floor trying to chomp Lily’s tiny feet. Lily was running around and screaming and saying “more,” which is her favorite word.

  My dad was making veggie burgers for dinner, and my mom wasn’t home from work yet. “How was the Songwriting Club?” my dad asked.

  My stomach started getting nervous. I should not have gone to Scarlett’s without permission.

  “The Songwriting Club was good,” I said.

  “Ms. Adamson said you’d write a new song each time,” Dad said. “What song did you make up this time?”

  “Um…we sang…” I had to think fast. “We sang a cleaning song.”

  “That sounds like a bad song,” Leo said.

  “Bad,” Lily said.

  “Hey, be a nice crocodile,” Dad said to Leo. “You be nice, too, Lily. Sing it for us, Lucy.”

  Dad and Leo and Lily waited.

  I felt like there was a spotlight on me. I was nervous and then I just started to sing about what happened after school.

  Oh…I got a bucket and a brand-new sponge

  and I went to a dirty old shed.

  I scrubbed the walls and the ceiling and the floor until my arms were dead.

  Leo laughed. Lily laughed, too.

  “Is that it?” Dad asked.

  “No. There’s more,” I said, because it seemed too short for a real song. So I sang:

  There were beetles and bugs

  and ants and slugs

  and spiderwebs all droopy.

  And hiding in the corner were

  some little brown bits

  where I think a mouse went poopy.

  Leo and Lily fell down on the floor laughing. “I have never heard a song quite like that!” My dad clapped.

  Whew! They thought I went to the Songwriting Club, and they liked my song. Everything was great. Then it got even better because Leo turned back into a crocodile and started chomping all our toes, which was hilarious. Ha-ha hee-hee!

  “What’s my surprise?” I asked Scarlett every morning.

  I was thinking it was cookies or fancy gel pens or maybe something really exciting for the Craft Cottage, like a pet. Sheep would be nice. We could give the sheep a haircut and then use the fluffy wool to knit crafts! I want a pet, but my parents say Leo acts like an animal so we don’t need one.

  “You have to wait until Wednesday after school for the surprise,” Scarlett kept saying.

  On Wednesday, as soon as school was over, I started jumping up and down. “What’s my surprise, Scarlett?”

  She pulled me over to the cubbies and smiled. “Today…drumroll, please…we are going to paint the inside of the cottage!” she whispered.

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “I thought you’d be excited, Lucy,” she said.

  I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I said, “It’s a great idea. I am excited. How about orange for the color? Orange is a happy color. It’s my favorite.”

  “Orange is nice, but let’s do pink,” Scarlett whispered. “Mr. Hopkin said you could come to his room and get stuff. Get lots of pink paint and a cup to pour it in and a big paintbrush. Put it in this bag.” She handed me a plastic bag.

  “Me?” I asked.

  “I have to meet Brandy and run home right away and get stuff ready. Come after you get the paint. Bye!” She left.

  I went to the art room. The door was unlocked, but Mr. Hopkin wasn’t there. I didn’t know what to do. It felt funny to take paint without Mr. Hopkin being there, but Scarlett was waiting for me at her house. The clock on the wall went tick, tick, tick. My heart went boom, boom, boom.

  I tiptoed over to the shelf and put two big bottles of pink paint, a cup, and two paintbrushes in my bag. The bad feeling in my stomach got worse. I tiptoed out. Luckily no one was in the hallway. I started to run, and when I turned the corner…Bam! I bumped right into Phillip Lee. Phillip is in my class. He is the one who started the Songwriting Club. I screamed and dropped my bag, and he dropped his ukulele. Oh no! We both threw out our arms. I caught his uke. He dove for my bag.

  “Sorry!” I yelped, and handed him back his uke.

  “I was looking for you,” he said, and handed me the bag. “Ms. Adamson said you’re signed up for my Songwriting Club. She sent me to find you.”

  “My dad signed me up,” I explained. “But I can’t be in the club. I’m working on…a project. Bye.”

  I started to leave. Seeing Phillip made me remember that I should have told my parents that I was going to Scarlett’s instead of the Songwriting Club. I was breaking the rule again.

  “The Songwriting Club is fun,” he said. “We’re making up songs and learning how to play them on the uke. Ms. Adamson has ukes to borrow.”

  I kept walking.

  He called out: “A uke only has four strings, so it’s easier to play than a guitar.”

  I thought about that while I ran to Scarlett’s house. Maybe if it was easy, even I could learn to play it. But I stopped thinking about it when I got to Scarlett’s house because she cheered when she saw the bag full of paint.

  “Y
ay, Lucy! This is going to be so much fun!”

  I hoped so. I needed some fun. I also needed a cookie. Throw in some potato chips and I’d have the best day ever!

  “I’ll let you paint the walls,” Scarlett said when we got to her backyard. “That’s the best part.”

  “I got two brushes,” I said. “We could do it together.”

  “I have to paint a sign in fancy letters that says ‘Private’ so Brandy and her little twerpy friends don’t come in.”

  She had a point.

  I went into the shed and got started while she sat on the patio and painted her sign. I think my job might have been harder, because she got hers done before I did and went inside. I heard the TV coming from her family room, but I didn’t think she would watch TV while I was working. She was probably getting snacks for us.

  After I finished the first wall, I dipped my paintbrush into the paint and brought it over to the next wall. It dripped on my cheek and dropped on my nose. It glipped on my knees and glopped on my toes. When you paint, this fact is true: Paint will get all over you!

  Hey, that would make a great song,

  I thought to myself.

  It drips on your cheek and drops on your nose.

  It glips on your knees and glops on your toes.

  When you paint, this fact is true:

  Paint will get all over you!

  I was painting the last wall when I heard a sound. Scarlett was coming. I ran to the door just as a white fur ball darted into the Craft Cottage. It wasn’t Scarlett. It was Scarlett’s cat, Princess Coconut, and my foot was about to land on her head. She leaped to the left and I leaped to the right. The good surprise was that my foot didn’t hit her. The bad surprise was that my foot hit the cup of paint.