Ukulele Hayley Page 4
One day, Hayley, Olivia, and Skeeter were the last to leave the BUGs meeting. Hayley looked out the window at the kids playing soccer. The weather was warming up. Soon it would be spring break. The trees near the school were lacy with blossoms. She saw Curtis leaning against the wall in time-out, looking sulky. The duty teacher seemed to be scolding him. I wonder what he’s done now? Hayley thought.
As the three kids left the music room, they passed Ms. Lyons and Mr. Penwick in the hall.
Ms. Lyons was talking. “And here’s our music room,” she said.
“You won’t need that next year,” Mr. Penwick said gruffly. He patted his briefcase. “Convert it to an office. Or storage.”
The grown-ups moved down the hall before Hayley could hear Ms. Lyons’s reply. “What do you think he meant?” Hayley whispered to Skeeter and Olivia. “About not needing the music room? What’s going on?”
“Maybe they are going to build a bigger music room?” wondered Skeeter. “A special room for the ukulele band!”
“Not likely, Skeeter,” said Hayley.
Olivia shook her head. “I’ll ask my mom. Maybe she’ll know.”
What could Mr. Penwick mean by they wouldn’t need the music room next year?
Wipeout
Over the next months, the group learned to play many songs: “Baby Bumblebee” and “Brown-Eyed Girl.” They had a great time together too. Laughing. Talking. Giggling. But most of all, singing together and playing.
Playing in a group is much more fun than playing on your own, thought Hayley. The good singers carried the tune. The members with a good sense of rhythm kept the group on the beat. Someone could always cover the hard parts. And all the BUGs were great about helping each other.
And there was nothing like the big, fat sound of millions of ukuleles strumming together. Make that hundreds of ukuleles. Or thirty ukes, anyway.
One day Mr. Y held up his hand for silence. Everyone stopped playing and looked up.
“We’re ready to play our first concert,” he said. “We’ll perform at the Bridgewater Senior Center. Meet in the music room at 11:00 on Saturday. We’ll play at noon. They’ll give us lunch, and we’ll ride the bus back to school.”
“Our first gig!” said Hayley.
“The first of many, I hope,” said Mr. Y. “I’m proud of all of you. The BUGs are growing into a fine band.”
“I’m going to paint my fingernails red to match my BUGs T-shirt,” said Olivia. “Lupe, you should do that too.”
“Okay,” said Lupe. “Come over to my house on Friday. You too, Hayley.”
Hayley had noticed Lupe was using a lot more English now and making more friends. Mrs. McCann was right. The band was good for her.
In fact, the band was good for all of them. Rich kids and poor kids. Big kids and little kids. Kids who got straight As and kids who were usually found in the principal’s office. Kids who’d never hung out together before. They all seemed to find a home in the uke band.
She just wished Curtis would join. Curtis needed the BUGs. She knew it.
Thursday afternoon Hayley was out in front of her house, watering the tulips. They’d had a dry spring, and everything looked dusty and wilted.
Skeeter whizzed past on his skateboard, strumming his green uke. “Look at me! I’m a surfer!” he yelled. He launched a solo from their new song. The song Olivia, Skeeter, and Hayley planned to play together at the senior center. Their spotlight trio number.
Hayley turned back to the tulips. No need to watch. Skeeter was always acting weird. Bam! She heard the skateboard crash.
Skeeter was on the ground. The skateboard was on the ground. His uke was on the ground in two pieces.
“I think it’s broken,” he said.
“Yup,” said Hayley, looking at the uke. “It’s broken, all right.”
“No, I mean my arm.” He held his wrist, which was bent at a funny angle. His eyes filled with tears. Hayley didn’t believe it. Skeeter was always exaggerating. He always thought something was broken. But just in case . . . “I’ll get Mom,” she said.
The next day Skeeter came to school with his wrist in a cast.
“Oh, Skeeter,” said Hayley when she saw him in the hall.
“What happened?” asked Olivia.
“Skateboard,” said Skeeter. “You should have seen me! I was practically upside down and then—Bam! I was just down.”
“But Skeeter!” said Olivia. “What about our trio? You have the solo. And our gig is tomorrow!”
“Too bad we aren’t playing ‘Wipeout,’ ” joked Skeeter. “Because I really wiped out!” He shook his hand and winced.
“We’ll have to cut our trio number,” Olivia said. “We can’t play it without your part.”
“No!” said Hayley. She didn’t want to cut it. It was her favorite song. But there didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
Salvation came in the form of Ms. Lyons. The BUGs meeting was just starting. The principal propelled Curtis into the music room. Ms. Lyons didn’t look happy. Neither did Curtis. But he did have his ukulele case.
“You have a new member!” Ms. Lyons announced.
Mr. Y looked surprised. “You want to join BUGs?” he asked Curtis.
Curtis glared at the floor. Ms. Lyons nudged him. Curtis sighed. “Yes.” He paused. “I guess.”
“Remember our bargain,” said Ms. Lyons. She squeezed Curtis’s shoulder and left.
“This is great!” said Hayley. “You can play Skeeter’s solo! What made you change your mind about joining?”
“Change my mind?” Curtis made a face. “I didn’t change my mind. It was this or Ceramics Club. Ms. Lyons said.”
Still, it was a good thing for BUGs. Curtis picked up Skeeter’s solo in record time. And as rehearsal went on, the sullen look left his face. Soon he was tapping his toe in time to the music. And smiling! Well, maybe not smiling exactly, but he didn’t look like an old grump anymore.
Hayley went over to him after rehearsal. Curtis was stowing his uke in his case. “You never told me how you learned to play,” she said.
This time Curtis really did smile. “In Hawaii,” he said. “My dad was stationed there in the Navy.”
“Hawaii!” Skeeter’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. Palm trees! Hula girls! I’ll bet you miss it.”
Curtis’s face shut down again. He zipped up his uke case and shouldered it. “Yeah,” he said. And left.
Bad News
The BUGs rode back to school from the Bridgewater Senior Center on the school bus.
On the way over, everyone had been quiet. A little bit nervous. A little bit scared. Their first real gig! Would they remember their songs? Would the audience like them?
Hayley sat with Skeeter and Olivia. Curtis flopped down in the front seat. He stared out the window. Mr. Y sat next to him. Hayley overheard Curtis say, “I miss my old friends in Hawaii.” But then Olivia said something to her, and she didn’t hear any more.
But now, after the gig, the bus was filled with happy, excited voices.
“That was so cool!” said Lupe. “Best time ever!”
“Did you see that couple dancing? Our music made them get up and dance!” shouted Devon.
“An old man told me that he used to play the ukulele,” said Hayley. “Mr. Benson. He was nice.”
“They really liked it, you could tell!” Skeeter laughed. Skeeter had gone along, in spite of his broken wrist. Mr. Y had given him a maraca to shake and told him he was a percussionist.
“One lady pinched my cheek,” giggled Olivia. “She said I was adorable!”
“And you are!” cooed Skeeter, batting his eyes. Olivia poked him in the ribs with her elbow. He laughed.
“Did you hear everybody clapping?” said Hayley, ignoring their horseplay. “They didn’t want us to stop.”
Even Curtis managed a smile when Mr. Y gave him a high five. “Great solo, man! You brought down the house.”
“You’re one of us now,” said Hayley. “A BUG!”
Hayley looked around at all the happy kids. She gloated. Look at Lupe, chattering away to Michelle. Look at Curtis, smiling.
She was the one who had started the BUGs. Maybe nobody else remembered it had been Hayley’s idea. It didn’t matter. No one ever called her shrimp now!
The bus dropped the kids off in the school parking lot. Parents waited. The kids ran off, still talking.
Hayley spotted Dad’s truck. She waved goodbye to her friends and climbed in. Olivia started to get in her mom’s car. Suddenly she ran back.
“Hayley!” she yelled.
Hayley rolled down the window. “What’s up?”
Olivia paused to catch her breath. “Bad news,” she finally gasped. “About the music program. About Mr. Y!” Olivia’s mom called and she turned. “Just a minute, Mom!” she yelled.
Olivia grabbed Hayley’s hand. “There’s an emergency school board meeting tonight at seven at the school district office. You’ve got to come.” She looked at Hayley’s dad. “You, too, Mr. Godwin!” Her eyes were wide. “They’re going to cut our music program!”
All five of the school board members were seated when Hayley and her family walked in to the boardroom. Three women and two men sat behind a long table, facing the room. Hayley recognized Mr. Penwick, the school board president. He wore his usual sour expression. She didn’t know the others.
Mom, Dad, Hayley, and Tilly sat in the front row. Tilly perched on the edge of her chair. Her feet dangled above the floor. She clutched Bun-Bun. She had promised to be quiet. But Hayley hoped the meeting would be short. She wasn’t sure how long Tilly could hold out.
Olivia was there, with her mom. Olivia gave a tiny wave when she saw Hayley. Hayley waved back. The boardroom was nearly empty except for a scattering of adults. No one else that Hayley knew.
Mr. Penwick started the meeting by opening his briefcase and taking out some papers. He put on his horn-rimmed glasses and peered over the tops. Hayley listened for a while. Phrases like “proposed budget cuts,” “eliminate one FTE,” and “standardized testing” floated through her mind. The room was stuffy. Hayley dozed off. She woke when she heard the words, music program.
“Cut the elementary music program,” Mr. Pen-wick was saying. “Save money.”
“But music is important!” argued one school board member.
“No one cares about the program,” said Mr. Pen-wick. He gestured to the nearly empty room. “See, no one even came to support it. The kids can listen to CDs, or ear pods, or whatever they call that stuff. That’s all they do these days, anyway.”
There was more discussion. Olivia’s mom stood up and talked about how music improves test scores. Mr. Penwick yawned.
Dad stood up and talked about music and art and becoming a well-rounded adult. Mr. Penwick doodled on the pad of paper in front of him.
Mom stood up and talked about Mr. Yaeger. How he knew all the kids in school. How he helped them. Hayley was proud of both of her parents, but Mr. Pen-wick just looked bored.
A few other people spoke, some in favor of cutting music, some against. “We’ve got no choice!” insisted one citizen. “We have to balance the budget!” At last the board voted. Three to two. And—just like that— Bridgewater Elementary School lost its music program. Mr. Penwick declared the meeting over and snapped his briefcase shut.
Hayley and her family left the meeting too unhappy to talk.
Hayley was quiet on the car ride home. No more music program. No more BUGs. No concerts. No gigs. No more Mr. Y with his silly jokes and his colorful vests.
The thought hit her, and she shot straight up in her seat.
No more Mr. Y! What would become of him?
A Brilliant Plan?
The news spread quickly through the school. The BUGs filed silently into the music room. What a change from Saturday! After the concert at the senior center, everyone had bubbled over with high spirits. Now Hayley felt as flat and gray as the April rain that streaked the windows.
Even Mr. Y looked different. His vest was a drab green. The sparkle was gone from his eyes. His bow tie wilted.
“Why do they have to cut music?” wailed Hayley as she tuned her uke. “Why not cut math instead? Nobody likes math!”
“Hey!” said Skeeter. “I do.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “You would, Skeeter.”
Skeeter ignored Olivia’s dig. “What will happen to you, Mr. Yaeger?” he asked. Hayley noticed that Skeeter used his full name, something he never, ever did.
“Well,” said Mr. Y, “I guess I’ll need to look for a new job.” He picked up a book from his desk. And set it back down. He shook his head as if to shake away painful thoughts. “Hey. No BUGs meeting today, okay? I need some time to process this.”
The BUGs left sadly. No one talked. No one played. They just. Walked. Out.
“Mr. Y just bought a house,” whispered Olivia to Hayley when they were out in the hallway. “They have a new baby.”
Hayley’s eyes widened. Her dad’s job had been cut last year. She knew what that did to a family. “Will they have to sell their house? Move?”
Olivia shook her head. “I don’t know.”
That night, Hayley lay in bed, too worried to sleep. Her nightlight made a yellow glow on the wall. Mango and Tango were curled up like orange puffballs in their tank. They were sound asleep. But Hayley’s stomach was tied in knots.
She felt awful about the music program. But what could she do? She was just one eight-year-old girl. One little, ukulele-playing third grader.
Light reflected from the picture frame on her dresser. A copy of Ruby’s photo from the family album. Mom had it framed for her after the talent show.
Ruby and Her Ragtime Rascals. Ruby didn’t let polio stop her.
Ruby wouldn’t give up. Neither would Hayley. The fight wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. Who said she was too little? She was Ukulele Hayley! The leader of the BUGs!
She fell asleep and woke up in the morning with a brilliant idea. Well, nearly brilliant. Make that possibly brilliant.
She hummed all the way to school. With Ms. Lyons’s permission, she made an announcement over the loudspeaker. “Attention, BUGs!” she said. “Emergency meeting! Noon! By the soccer field!” Her voice didn’t crack. Not once!
At lunch recess Hayley walked across the playground with Skeeter and Olivia. Meeting time! Time for the brilliant idea! They passed Josh and Curtis sitting on the ground. They were doing something with little round pieces of cardboard. Skeeter stopped. “What-cha doing?” he asked.
Josh looked up. “Curtis is teaching me to play pogs,” he said.
“It’s a game from Hawaii,” said Curtis.
“Well, play it later,” said Olivia. “It’s time for our meeting!”
The BUGs gathered by the soccer field. Hayley took charge. “The school board is cutting our music program,” she told them. “But the vote was close. Maybe we can change their minds. The next school board meeting is May 7. We need to do something.”
“Let’s TP Mr. Penwick’s house!” said Skeeter. Olivia rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be silly, Skeeter,” said Hayley. “We don’t want to make things worse.
“I was thinking,” Hayley continued. She paused. She wanted to make this sound good to convince the BUGs. “Let’s give a concert right before the meeting, in front of the district office building. The school board will walk by and hear us. They’ll see how good we are. They’ll see we care.” She waited anxiously to hear what the BUGs would say.
There was a minute while everyone thought about it.
“If all the kids from school and their parents came, the board would see how important music is,” said Devon slowly.
“And what Mr. Y helped us do,” Lupe said.
“Yes!” said Olivia. Her eyes shone. “Let’s get our parents to come, maybe grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Brothers and sisters. Nei
ghbors. Everyone! The more people, the better. A big crowd!”
“And we can have some signs,” said Lupe.
“Balloons!” yelled Josh.
“Posters, all over town!” shouted Anna.
Skeeter jumped up and down. “I can see it now! Humongous crowd! Hundreds, no—thousands! Maybe a million people!”
“Are there that many people in our neighborhood?” asked Michelle.
“No!” Robert laughed. “But a couple of hundred would look pretty good.”
Curtis looked thoughtful. “My mom is a reporter. Maybe she’d come and take pictures. Then we’d be in the paper.”
The bell rang, and the BUGs headed back to their classes, buzzing like bees with ideas for the rally.
Hayley stared into the distance, eyes shining. A new idea—even more brilliant than the last—was taking shape.
Easier said than done. Just like learning the uke. Just like playing in the talent show. Just like starting a band.
So many things are like that, thought Hayley. She painted SAVE OUR MUSIC PROGRAM in slightly straggly letters on a big piece of poster board.
“We need more black paint!” shouted Olivia from the corner of the garage. She and Lupe and Skeeter were painting signs too. Skeeter’s read DON’T STOP THE MUSIC, just like their new yellow T-shirts.
Hayley sighed. She was tired already, and the rally was still a few days away.
Easier said than done. But another saying came to mind as well. Something Dad used to say when he needed help cleaning up the kitchen after dinner: Many hands make light work.
And so it was with the rally. All the BUGs helped. It turned out that you couldn’t just hold a rally any old time you wanted to. You had to get permission. So Dad took Hayley and Olivia down to City Hall and helped them fill out the application.
Then the BUGs had to make flyers and posters to advertise the rally and hand them out at the shopping center. They took them to every store and posted them in the windows. They addressed and stamped hundreds of flyers. They made banners and inflated balloons and ordered T-shirts.