"I guess so," Malcolm said. He rubbed his nose.
"Nicholas," Gooney Bird said, "please continue."
Nicholas, holding his beard out of the way with one hand, printed the remaining letters: NU.
"The title of our fable is 'Two Gnus,'" Gooney Bird announced.
"The G is silent," she added.
"If we were doing a story about medieval times," Nicholas said, "I could be a knight, because the K is silent!"
Malcolm frowned. "When does an M get to be silent?" he asked.
"I don't believe an M is ever silent," Gooney Bird said.
"Malcolm is never silent," Barry added.
"G's are special," Nicholas said proudly, "and they make my N special."
"Tho thecial," Felicia Ann said with a happy smile.
"Class," Mrs. Pidgeon announced, "maybe after vacation, maybe in January, we will do a whole unit about silent letters, and let's see, homonyms, and synonyms, and—oh yes— palindromes; those are especially interesting. But right now, it is time for a fable."
Gooney Bird and Nicholas, side by side, wearing their beards, unfolded their papers and read their fable together.
Two Gnus
Once there were two gnus, a female gnu and a male gnu. They were friends. Both had beards. All gnus, female and male, have beards.
They were part of a large herd and they moved slowly across the African plains, eating grasses.
Several lions were watching them and making plans for an attack.
"Oh, no!" said Keiko.
"It's okay," Gooney Bird reassured her. "It has a happy ending. Just a little suspense, and a suddenly."
The fable continued. Keiko looked nervous but she was quiet.
The lions decided to attack late at night, when it was dark and the gnus were asleep. They planned to carry away several young gnus and have them all for breakfast the next morning.
Gooney Bird looked over at Keiko and whispered, "It's okay. Don't worry."
The lions decided to rest for the early part of the night, so that they would have lots of energy for the big attack. They curled up in a heap in the tall grass and slept. They didn't need an alarm clock. Lions are very good at knowing when to wake up.
The gnus gathered in their herd and prepared to sleep, too. But they were thirsty. It was a time of drought.
"Drought has a silent G and a silent H," Gooney Bird pointed out to the class. "But we'll talk about those next month."
"Are you sure there's no silent M?" Malcolm asked.
"Almost positive," Gooney Bird said. Malcolm scowled.
Suddenly the chief gnu sniffed the air and smelled some water far ahead.
"We really need water," he murmured softly. "We haven't had water in a long time. I think maybe we should skip tonight's sleep and move forward to get a drink."
He made the special gestures, tossing his head and stamping his foot, that told the entire herd to get moving. And off they went, some of them yawning because they had been almost asleep.
In the middle of the night, at the very darkest time, the lions, who were very rested now and full of energy, woke up. "Time to attack!" the chief lion (a female, by the way. It is always the females who do the hunting. The males are very lazy) announced. "Gnu for breakfast!
"Go!" she said. And the lions leapt out of the tall grass, in attack mode, and dashed to the place where the gnus had been.
But the vast plain was empty. Oh, there was a snake slithering past, and a couple of vultures sitting on the branch of one crummy-looking tree. But the herd of gnus had disappeared. They were far away, having a nice drink of water.
"Bummer," said the lions. "We'll have to have that old leftover zebra for breakfast."
"The end," said Gooney Bird and Nicholas together. They bowed, and the class clapped.
"Good fable!" Mrs. Pidgeon said, getting up from her chair. "And I suppose the moral is something about being watchful and vigilant?"
Gooney Bird and Nicholas shook their heads. "Here's the moral," they said together. "No gnus is good news."
13.
"May I march with you?" Mr. Leroy asked.
The children of Mrs. Pidgeon's second grade were lining up in the school hallway on Friday afternoon, the last day of school before the holiday vacation. They all had their bits and pieces of costumes on, and wore nametags revealing the names of their animals. They were wiggling and giggling and shuffling their feet and practicing chanting the rap that Tyrone had prepared for the parade.
"Ask Gooney Bird," Beanie told the principal. "She's in charge."
Gooney Bird Greene was at the head of the parade, wearing her beard and a pair of plaid pajamas. "Well," she said dubiously when Mr. Leroy asked permission to join the group, "we're all animals. You have to be an animal. And," she added, looking at his suit, "you have to have some kind of costume. See Mrs. Pidgeon, in her black shirt and white vest? She's a panda.
"And I'm a gnu," she added, stroking her beard, in case he hadn't already read her nametag or figured it out. "The animal has to begin with the first letter of your name. Gnu has a silent G."
"Yes, I understand," the principal said. "I was in your classroom when Tyrone did the T. rex fable. But I think I can fulfill the requirement. My first name is John: a J. But my middle name is Thomas, so I do have a T, as well. And look! Here's my costume!"
He flipped his necktie, today a bright green one with candy canes on it, so that it dangled in front of his buttoned suit jacket.
"Can I be a tiger? Get it? Tie-ger?" he asked.
Gooney Bird sighed. She put her hands on her hips. "If you were in second grade, Mr. John Thomas Leroy," she told him, "I would tell you that you are trying to bend the rules just a little too far. But since you're the principal, I'm going to say yes. You may march."
"Thank you, Gooney Bird." Mr. Leroy turned to find a place in the line.
"Alphabetical!" Gooney Bird called to him. "We're lining up alphabetically. "You'll go back there"—she thought for a moment, then pointed—"after panda and before tortoise.
"I should be there with Nicholas, behind the flamingo," she explained, "but since I'm the leader, I'm marching in front."