The King of Show-and-Tell Read online

  by ABBY KLEIN

  illustrated by

  JOHN McKINLEY

  I have a problem.

  A really, really, big problem.

  I never have anything cool

  to bring for show-and-tell.

  Let me tell you about it.

  To Robbie,

  who, in my mind, will always be

  the King of Show-and-Tell

  —Mrs. K.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Dedication

  Dear Reader

  Chapter 1: An Alligator Head

  Chapter 2: For the Birds

  Chapter 3: Oh No!

  Chapter 4: Look What I Found!

  Chapter 5: Night Rescue

  Chapter 6: Shhh … Don’t Tell

  Chapter 7: Peep

  Chapter 8: The King of Show-and-Tell

  Freddy’s Fun Pages

  Freddy’s Shark Journal

  Suzie’s Secret Riddle

  A Very Silly Story

  Freddy’s Winter Bird Feeder

  Maze

  Freddy’s Other Adventures!

  Copyright

  DEAR READER,

  I have been a teacher for many years, and every day in my class we have show-and-tell. My students love to bring in special things from home to share with the rest of the class.

  One time a little boy brought in a real alligator head just like Robbie’s. Another time a little girl brought a tarantula to share, and she put it on my head. Boy, was I scared!

  I hope you have as much fun reading The King of Show-and-Tell as I had writing it.

  HAPPY READING!

  CHAPTER 1

  An Alligator Head

  “OK, everyone, come to the rug. It’s time for show-and-tell,” said Mrs. Wushy. “Today’s sharers are Chloe and Robbie. Who would like to go first?”

  “I will!” said Robbie, jumping up and running to his cubby to get his treasure.

  Robbie was like the King of Show-and-Tell. The kids couldn’t wait to see what he brought because he always had something really cool like a porcupine quill or a sixty-million-year-old dinosaur fossil. Today he had a real alligator head.

  “This is a real alligator head,” Robbie announced as oohs and ahhs filled the whole room.

  “So who cares about a dumb old dead animal head?” I mumbled to myself.

  “You know it’s an alligator head because it has a rounded snout. Alligators have rounded snouts, and crocodiles have pointed ones.”

  More oohs and ahhs.

  “Alligators are reptiles, so they are cold-blooded, which means they like to live in warm places. This one lived in a swamp in Florida. Questions or comments?”

  When someone was done sharing, they could pick three people in the class to ask a question or make a comment. Whenever Robbie shared, everybody’s hand went up, and the kids all shouted, “Pick me! Pick me!”

  “He’s not going to call on anyone who’s yelling out,” said Mrs. Wushy. “He’s only looking for quiet people.”

  I turned to Jessie and whispered, “Boy, the way people are acting, you’d think they’d never seen an alligator before.” I still didn’t know what was so great about it. You can see a real, live alligator at the zoo, which is way better than some stupid dead head.

  “You’re just jealous,” she whispered back. “I think it’s really cool. I wish I had an alligator head like that.”

  Just then Robbie called on Jessie. “I think it’s really cool. Who gave it to you?”

  “My mom did.” Robbie looked around. “Chloe.”

  “My grandma has an alligator purse.”

  “Ha, ha, ha, she’s like the song ‘The Lady with the Alligator Purse,’ “ Max said, laughing hysterically.

  “She is not,” Chloe snapped. “And for your information,” she continued with her hands on her hips, “that purse is very rare. My grandma has traveled all over the world, and she got that purse in Brazil. It’s really special because you can’t get one like it anymore.”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Wushy. “Many years ago, people used to make belts, shoes, and purses out of alligator skin, and they would kill the alligators just for their skin. The alligators became an endangered species, so now it is against the law to use their skin that way. Now they’re protected, and you could go to jail for selling things made from an alligator.”

  “Your grandma’s goin’ to jail,” said Max.

  “She is not!” cried Chloe, pointing a painted red fingernail in Max’s face.

  Max leaned over and bit Chloe’s finger like a dog.

  “Help! Help! I’m going to get rabies!” Chloe screamed, shaking her finger all around in the air.

  “OK, you two. Enough!” said Mrs. Wushy. “Max, you go sit in that chair, and Chloe, you go wash off your finger. Your grandma is not going to jail. I’m sure she got it many years ago when it wasn’t against the law.”

  “Exactly,” said Chloe as she bounced off to the sink to wash her finger.

  “Robbie, you get to call on one more person,” said Mrs. Wushy.

  I shot my arm up. Maybe if I knew where he got it, I could beg my mom to go there and get me something really cool for my next sharing.

  “Freddy.”

  “Where’d your mom get it?”

  “My mom got it for me last week when she went on a business trip to New York,” Robbie said, shoving the alligator head in my face. “You know, she’s a paleontologist. The Museum of Natural History needed her to identify some dinosaur bones while she was there. One of the scientists gave her this alligator head as a special present for me.”

  “New York!” I grumbled under my breath. “So much for that idea.”

  “Thank you, Robbie,” said Mrs. Wushy, smiling. “You always bring such interesting things for show-and-tell. OK, Chloe, it’s your turn. Do you need to get anything out of your cubby?”

  “No, Mrs. Wushy. I have it right here in this bag,” Chloe said as she sat down in front of the class and crossed her legs like some fancy lady. She pulled a package out of the bag and carefully unwrapped a pair of pink ballet slippers with satin ribbons. “These are my new ballet slippers my grandma got for me in France. They cost 300 francs and only special ballerinas get to wear them.”

  “Whoop-de-doo,” I whispered.

  “Those are lame!” Max yelled out.

  “Max, that is rude,” said Mrs. Wushy. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, please keep your mouth shut.”

  “Besides,” Chloe continued, “I’m not done yet. As I was saying, you can’t get these in just any old store. My grandma brought them all the way from France. They have real satin ribbons, and they are the kind the prima ballerinas wear. Now I’m ready for questions or comments.”

  A lot of kids raised their hands. She called on Jessie first.

  “Jessie.”

  “You are so lucky to have such a rich grandma.”

  “I know,” Chloe said, smiling. She called on me next.

  “Freddy.”

  “What’s a franc?”

  “Oh, that’s what they call the money in France. I get to call on one more person. Robbie.”

  “Why was your grandma in France?”

  “For a vacation. She has another house there. It is a really, really big castle like in a fairy tale.”

  “Well, thank you, Chloe,” said Mrs. Wushy. “The slippers are very beautiful. Now let’s see who Monday’s sharers are. Freddy and Jessie, it will be your turn on Monday.”

  Great. I didn’t have anything good to bring in. I had already shared everything from my shark collection. Nothing I ever brought in would be as cool as all the stuff Robbie and Chloe brought in. Nothing.<
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  CHAPTER 2

  For the Birds

  After school, Robbie and I got on the bus. He was coming over to my house to play.

  “Hey, watch where you’re sitting. You almost sat on my head!”

  “What are you talking about? Your head’s up there, and my butt’s going down here,” I said, pointing to the seat.

  “My alligator head. It’s in that bag, and you’re about to sit on it.”

  Ugh. That dumb head. “Sorry,” I said as I moved the bag to the side. “You know, Robbie, you’re so lucky your mom brings you all those cool things when she goes to New York for her job.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I wish I had something really cool to bring in for sharing.”

  “Hey, what do you think we should do when we get to your house?” Robbie asked, changing the subject.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, let’s go up to your tree house and check on the birds,” Robbie said.

  “What birds?” Jessie asked.

  “Oh, there’s this family of birds that built a nest in a branch right outside my tree house,” I said. “There’s a mom and three babies.”

  “How cute.”

  “Yeah, the mom always brings the babies worms to eat, and we peek out the window and watch her feed them.”

  “Ewww, gross. Worms are so slimy,” said Chloe, wrinkling up her nose. “I would never want to be that close to something that lived in the dirt.”

  “They’re not slimy,” said Jessie. “I love to play with them. I even ate one when I was a baby!”

  “Did it crawl around in your stomach?” asked Max.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” yelled Chloe with her hands over her mouth. “You ate worms! I think I’m going to be sick.” She leaned over toward Max.

  “Great,” I thought. “Throw up right in his lap. I can’t wait to see this.”

  “Hey, don’t toss your cookies on me,” said Max, squishing his body up against the window.

  “You people are disgusting,” said Chloe. She got up and ran to find a seat somewhere in the back of the bus.

  “Good. Now I have the seat all to myself,” said Max, stretching out. “Hey, guys, can I come see the birds?”

  The thought of Max Sellars, the biggest bully in the whole first grade, coming to my house was enough to make me sick. All I could think of was that punch he had given me right in the gut once before. That was something I never wanted to experience firsthand again. I had to think fast.

  “Uh, um … I don’t think so. My mom doesn’t like me to have too many kids over at a time.”

  “But I thought it was just going to be you and Robbie.”

  “Yeah, it is, but my sister has a friend coming, too.”

  “So?”

  “So maybe some other time.” Like that will ever happen, I thought to myself. That kid was so mean, it was bad enough he teased me all day at school. I wasn’t about to invite him to my house. Besides, I could just imagine him wanting to pick up one of the birds and squeezing it to death.

  Luckily, just then the bus stopped in front of my house.

  “Well, gotta go. Here’s my stop. Come on, Robbie.”

  When we got off, Robbie grabbed me by the arm. “Hey, did you mean it?”

  “Mean what?”

  “That you’d have Max Sellars over to your house sometime?”

  “What? Are you crazy? Come on. Let’s go check on the birds.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Oh No!

  Robbie and I dropped our backpacks off in my room and raced outside. We climbed up the ladder to my tree house and looked out the window.

  “Oh no!” I cried.

  “What?”

  “The nest is empty!”

  “What?” said Robbie, pushing me to the side. “How can that be? Those babies weren’t old enough to fly.”

  “I guess they were. What a bummer. I was having fun watching them.” Just then I got a sick feeling in my stomach. “You don’t think the neighbor’s cat got them?” I asked Robbie.

  “I sure hope not. We’d better do some investigating and find out.”

  Robbie always wanted to do a little investigating. He pulled his magnifying glass out of his pocket and climbed down the ladder.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked as I followed him down.

  “Clues.”

  “What kind of clues?”

  “Cat and bird clues,” Robbie said with his nose to the ground.

  “Like what?”

  “Hello … like maybe feathers and some bones.”

  “Yuck!” I said.

  “Well, you didn’t think the cat and the bird were going to play together, did ya?”

  I was about to answer when I saw it lying there on the ground. In fact, I almost stepped on it.

  “Robbie, look!”

  CHAPTER 4

  Look What I Found!

  “What did you find? A bone?”

  “No, a baby bird,” I whispered.

  “What?” said Robbie, running over to where I was standing.

  “Hey, be careful. Don’t step on it.”

  “It must have fallen out of the nest.”

  “Do you think it’s still alive?”

  “I don’t know,” said Robbie. He bent down to get a closer look.

  I got down on the ground. “Hey, listen,” I said. “I think I hear it peeping.”

  We both lay there, holding our breath for a minute. “It is peeping. What do you think we should do?”

  “Whatever we do,” said Robbie, “we have to be really careful because it looks like it has a broken wing.”

  “I know. I’ll go inside and get some stuff to make him a little bed,” I said. “You wait here and make sure he’s not lunch for the neighbor’s cat.”

  I ran inside and raced upstairs to my room. I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand: Think, think, think. What would make a good bed? Just then I saw my baseball-card collection. I dumped out the old shoe box I was using to hold the cards, and then I ran into the bathroom to grab an old towel to put inside.

  “Freddy, is that you?” my mom called.

  “Yeah, Mom, it’s me. I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  “Do you boys want anything to eat?”

  “No, thanks. We’re fine,” I yelled as I raced back outside.

  “Is it still alive?” I asked, panting.

  “Yeah, but I really think it’s hurt.”

  “Well, I got this box and a fluffy towel to make it a soft, comfy bed.”

  I got down close to the baby bird and whispered, “Hey, little guy. You’re going to be OK. We’re going to help you. I’m just going to put you in this nice, warm box.” As I reached to pick him up, his peeping got louder. “I think he’s crying. His wing must really hurt.”

  We put him in the box and carried it up the ladder to the tree house. “What now?” I asked Robbie.

  “We need to put some holes in the top of the box, so he can breathe.”

  Robbie poked some holes in the top of the box with a pencil.

  “Great! Now what?”

  “Maybe we should go get him something to eat.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Like what?”

  “What’s in your fridge?” asked Robbie.

  “Pizza, leftover meatloaf, string cheese.”

  “How about the pizza?” Robbie said.

  “Really? I didn’t know birds ate pizza.”

  “They don’t, Ding-Dong,” said Robbie, laughing. “I’m just kidding.”

  “Well, what then?”

  “I bet he’d like some nice, juicy worms.”

  “Worms, yeah. Good idea,” I said.

  I stuck my head down near the box and whispered, “You stay here, little guy. We’ll be right back. We’re just going to get you some lunch.”

  I heard a little “peep.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Robbie and I grabbed our bug-collector jar and tweezers and climbed down the ladd
er. We went to the back of the yard where there was some gloppy, gooey mud. It was our favorite place to look for creepy crawlers.

  “Ooh, look at this roly-poly. He’s huge,” I said, picking it up and rolling it around in my hand. “Maybe the little bird would like this. It looks really juicy.”

  “Nah,” said Robbie. “Worms are better. But check out this trail of ants. They all look like they’re carrying a cookie crumb into their hole. Maybe if they put them all together down there, they’ll have one giant cookie.”

  “That’d be pretty funny.”

  We dug around some more. “What if we can’t find any worms?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s not exactly the best time of day to be hunting worms,” Robbie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard someone say, ‘The early bird catches the worm’?”

  “No.”

  “Well, the best time to catch a worm is early in the morning, so the birds that get up first get the most worms.”

  “Good thing I’m not a bird, because I hate getting up in the morning.” I stuck my fingers deeper into the mud. “Oh, wait! I think I found one!”

  “Let me see.” Robbie leaned over and stuck his face so close to the ground he got mud on his nose.

  “Move over. I can’t see through your big head,” I said, pushing him out of the way. I grabbed my tweezers and yanked the fat, wriggling worm out of the mud. “Don’t you look delicious,” I said, dangling the worm between my fingers. I dropped it into my bug jar and searched around for some more.

  By the time we were done, Robbie and I had found six delicious worms for the little bird. We carried them back up the ladder to the tree house.

  “I think now we should give him a name,” I said.

  “Yeah, how ’bout the name Josh?” Robbie suggested.