and was lucky enough to find her usual seat in the second row.
"Good luck," whispered Beth, giving Katie a
thumbs-up sign and then going on to take a seat.
Most kids were already getting settled. Mona Vaughn and Matt
Zeboski walked in holding hands. Shawnie Pendergast zipped in, looking as if
she thought she might be late, and Christie and Tony were the last two to come
through the door and find seats in the back of the room before the last bell
rang.
Finally Miss Dickinson came in, leading Willie to the front
of the room. Katie could feel her palms getting sweaty and heat rising around
her face. At least half the class had turned to look at her. Some were smiling.
A few were giggling.
Oh, please, Katie prayed silently, let everything go okay.
"Good afternoon, class," Miss Dickinson began. As
usual, she was wearing her long brown hair swept up in an old-fashioned pouf
with a tiny bun on top, and her clothes were old-fashioned, too. She always
dressed that way, looking like a character out of one of her literature books.
Katie was glad her mother had agreed to wear the bright teal jumper and
contrasting blouse. She definitely looked more with it.
"As you know," Miss Dickinson was saying, "we
have a very special privilege this week. Our guest is Ms. Wilma Shannon, who
will be teaching you some fascinating things about writing and about being a
professional writer."
The class applauded politely. Katie thought she had seen her
mother grimace slightly when Miss Dickinson called her Wilma instead of Willie,
and she wondered for the zillionth time if her mother was as terrified at this
moment as she herself felt. At least Miss Dickinson hadn't pointed out Katie as
Willie's daughter, Katie thought with relief.
After a few more introductory remarks, Miss Dickinson took a
seat in the back of the room, leaving Willie alone in front of the class.
Willie surveyed the students silently for a moment, and
Katie counted her own pulse beats as they pounded in her ears.
"The first thing I want to say is that all writing
doesn't have to be boring," Willie began, smiling.
All around the room kids grinned knowingly at each other. A
few even gave her more applause.
"I'm going to show you that when you're accomplishing
something that's important to you, writing can even be fun."
"That'll be the day," Joel Murphy whispered over
Katie's left shoulder.
"The first thing I want you to do, class," said
Willie, "is to begin thinking about things you believe need changing at
this school."
Hands shot up all over the room, and Willie pointed to Steve
Hernandez, who sat in the front row. "Will you say your name as well as
your complaint?" asked Willie.
"Steve Hernandez. The stairways are too crowded between
classes," he offered.
"Thanks, Steve," said Willie. "Now what do
you think should be done about it?"
Steve shrugged and looked embarrassed, but behind him Derek
Travelstead waved his hand pleadingly.
"Okay," said Willie, pointing to Derek.
"Derek Travelstead. I think the two stairways should be
made one-way with the front stairs the up stairs and the back ones the down stairs."
"But what about changing classes?" blurted out
Shawnie. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but Willie nodded for her to
continue.
"I'm Shawnie Pendergast, but you know that," she
said with a giggle. Willie smiled, and Shawnie continued. "If we have to
run back and forth between the front and the back of the building to use the
stairs, we'll never be able to change classes in a mere five minutes."
"That's true," said Willie. "Do you have a
suggestion for fixing that?"
"Well . . ." Shawnie bit her lower lip while she
thought. All around the room hands were flying into the air. "I know,"
she said quickly. "The time between classes should be longer. Maybe six or
seven minutes instead of five."
"Good," said Willie. "Who has something else
to talk about?"
Katie was starting to relax over the smooth way the class
was going until she glanced around to see whom her