Everyone opened the dictionaries and turned the pages. Chelsea raised her hand first. "That which is given in appreciation," she read aloud to the class.
"You see, it doesn't have to be money," Mrs. Pidgeon explained. "And in this case, the reward I am going to give is the important role of Squanto in the pageant. Someone is going to get that role in appreciation. It will be that person's reward."
"Reward for what?" several children asked at the same time. "For catching a criminal?"
"No," Mrs Pidgeon said. She sighed. "For finding me a room mother."
***
An hour later, after lunch, the second-graders were learning one of the songs for the Thanksgiving pageant. It was a complicated song that Mrs. Pidgeon herself had written. The Pilgrims sang half and the Native Americans sang half. The song was about food.
"Succotash, succotash, lima beans and corn..." Mrs.
Gooney Bird and the Room Mother
Pidgeon played the notes on the piano and sang the words. "To the tune of 'Jingle Bells,'" she explained. "Ready, Native Americans? This is your part. Try it with me."
Eleven children, including Gooney Bird Greene, sang the succotash lines.
"Now, Pilgrims? Listen to your part. Just like the next two lines of 'Jingle Bells.'" Mrs. Pidgeon played and sang, "Thank you for the vegetables, On this Thanksgiving morn."
The Pilgrims sang loudly.
"Now the next verse is about the turkey. Native Americans? Ready to listen carefully?"
Gooney Bird Greene raised her hand. "Does Squanto sing with the Native Americans?" she asked.
"No, actually, while the Pilgrims and Native Americans are singing, Squanto will be carrying the food across the stage. Perhaps Squanto will do some sort of dance. I haven't worked out the details yet."
Beanie, standing with the Pilgrims, raised her hand. "I take ballet lessons!" she said. "Maybe I could be—"
But Mrs. Pidgeon shook her head. "Not ballet, Beanie," she said. "They didn't have ballet in Plymouth. All right, class, let's pay careful attention to the next part. Still the tune of 'Jingle Bells,' remember. Gobble gobble, here it comes, turkey roasted brown..." She played the melody on the piano while she sang the words. Then the eleven Native Americans sang it after her.
"Mrs. Pidgeon, may I please be excused?" Gooney Bird asked politely. "I need to be excused."
Mrs. Pidgeon paused with her hands on the piano keys. "Is this a seriously urgent need?" she asked.
"Yes."
"All right, then. Be quick."
Gooney Bird slipped out of the classroom while Mrs. Pidgeon sang on. "Thank you, noble Squanto, you may set the platter dooooowwnn..."
The children were still singing and passing imaginary helpings of food around when Gooney Bird returned a few minutes later.
"Announcement!" Gooney Bird said in a loud voice. "Important announcement!"
Mrs. Pidgeon stopped playing the piano. The room became quiet. All of the children knew that when Gooney Bird had an announcement to make, it was worth listening to.
"I am Squanto," Gooney Bird announced.
"But—" Mrs. Pidgeon began.
"I got us a room mother," Gooney Bird said proudly.
Mrs. Pidgeon clapped her hands. "But how?" she asked.
"Simple phone call. They let me use the telephone in the office. I told Muriel Hollo way it was an emergency."
Mrs. Pidgeon frowned slightly. "Well," she said, "it was beginning to feel like an emergency, actually."
"So now I'm Squanto, right?"
"Wait, Gooney Bird! You haven't told us who our room mother is!"
"I'll write it down," Gooney Bird Greene said. She went to the board and picked up the chalk. "Class," she said, "get out your dictionaries." She wrote a word very carefully on the board, at the end of the list.
The word she wrote was INCOGNITO.
"This is our room mother's name," she said.
5.
Gooney Bird and the Room Mother
"With the identity disguised or hidden," Mrs. Pidgeon read to the class, from the dictionary. "So our room mother doesn't want us to know who she is?
"Or he?" she added, remembering Bailey Stevenson's father.
"It's a she," Gooney Bird said. "I think it's okay to tell you that. But you're right: she wants to be a secret."
"How did you cajole her?" Tricia asked. "Is it my mom? I couldn't cajole her. How did you?"
"Is it mine?" Barry asked. "I bet it's mine."
"Did you pay her?" Tyrone asked. "If you paid her, it's mine."
"My lips are sealed," Gooney Bird said.
"Maybe it's mine," Keiko said.
"Maybe mine," whispered Felicia Ann. "Oh, I hope mine."
Malcolm was rolling a piece of paper into a tube that looked like a telescope. Malcolm had a very hard time keeping his hands still. He called out loudly, "If it's my mom, and if she brings those three babies to this school, I'm ... I'm..." He scowled and sputtered and wrinkled his face and couldn't decide just what he would do.
"Sealed," Gooney Bird repeated.
"What are your babies' names?" Felicia Ann asked Malcolm. "I love babies."
"I'm not saying," Malcolm replied with a scowl. "My lips are sealed."
Mrs. Pidgeon began to laugh. "Well, class, Malcolm is not going to reveal the triplets' names. And Gooney Bird is not going to reveal the identity of our room mother, though I somehow suspect that it might be someone who has decided that she doesn't want to be chef at the White House..."
She looked at Gooney Bird, who shook her head. "Tightly sealed," she said.
"Well, I am delighted that we have one," Mrs. Pidgeon said, "and I will notify Mr. Leroy. But Gooney Bird, would you tell us—without revealing the name, of course—the absolutely true story of how you cajoled her?"
Gooney Bird nodded. "I guess I could do that," she said. She was already standing in the center of the room, and she began to take deep breaths, as she always did when beginning a story.
The Pilgrims and Native Americans all sat down on the floor. Keiko clapped her hands in delight. Malcolm stopped rolling the piece of paper into a tube. Barry crept over to his desk and sat down quietly Mrs. Pidgeon turned around on the piano bench to listen.