Elizabella Breaks a Leg Page 3

  Minnie sighed as Elizabella ran off.

  “Mr Gobblefrump!” she cried as she bolted towards him.

  “No running, Elizabella! You’re in Year Four; how many times have you been reminded of that rule, would you estimate?”

  “About nine thousand,” she said, catching her breath.

  Mr Gobblefrump did a quick calculation in his head. Elizabella had been at school for five years, and each year she spent around 180 days at school, give or take a few sick days. And he had to tell Elizabella not to run around about ten times a day . . . so that meant . . . Nine thousand!

  “Hmm,” he said. “Good guess.”

  “Mr Gobblefrump, I have an amazing idea!”

  “Do I want to hear this?”

  “Yes! It’s good, I swear. Now promise not to say no right away?”

  “I will make no such promise.”

  “I think the Year Fours should put on a play.”

  An enormous “NO” was forming in his mouth and he was about to let it fly out, when he paused for a moment. He’d been trying to think of a way to nurture their interest in theatre, after all.

  “Elizabella,” he said. “That is actually a delightful idea.”

  Elizabella’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Yes, it is. However, plays cost money and require lots of resources – two things we do not have at Bilby Creek Primary. So, unless you can figure out how to put on an entire play for free then I’m afraid it’s a no. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, thank you Mr Gobblefrump!” Elizabella cried.

  “Elizabella, I said it was a no.”

  “No, you said we could if I work out how to do it for free! Challenge accepted!”

  “U-um . . . ,” Mr Gobblefrump stammered. “Elizabella, everything costs money; it’s impossible!”

  But she was already skipping off.

  “You’re a legend, Mr Gobblefrump!” And she broke into a run.

  “NO RUNNING!” he yelled after her, but she was too excited to hear.

  Nine thousand and one . . . thought Mr Gobblefrump, narrowing his eyes.

  “Now, what is a bee’s favourite colour?”

  Miss Carrol was busy at the board, drawing the anatomical structure of a great carpenter bee, the largest bee found in Australia. Ever since term two when Miss Duck had introduced insects to the tuckshop menu, the students had really got into creepy-crawly creatures in all their fascinating forms. Miss Carrol was always one to capitalise on the children’s new interests, which she found was the best way to get them to learn. However, the class had been distracted all through her morning lesson with their newer new interest.

  “How good was it when Rapunzel ate a thousand chocolates and then her hair turned into chocolate!” Sandy rubbed his own shaved head, recalling the scene dreamily.

  “My favourite bit was when Rapunzel was under the sea, and then the lights went off for a second and when they came back on suddenly, she was in outer space orbiting the earth!” Huck spun around in his chair.

  “I asked a question.” Miss Carrol turned around to the class. Her patience was just about running out. Of course she was thrilled that her students had so thoroughly enjoyed the excursion, but there was a limit. She persisted.

  “What is a bee’s favourite colour? Elizabella, any thoughts?”

  Elizabella was bubbling with excitement about the possibility of a school play. The bell had rung straight after her conversation with Mr Gobblefrump and she hadn’t even had a chance to tell Minnie.

  “I don’t know that one, Miss Carrol,” said Elizabella, “but why did the bee cross the road?”

  “It’s not a joke.” Miss Carrol was exasperated.

  “To get to the other hive!” Elizabella exclaimed. She looked over at Minnie to see her reaction. She had her head slumped sadly on the desk.

  “Elizabella!” Miss Carrol snapped. “I said it’s not a joke. What is a bee’s favourite colour? Please answer the question.”

  “Sorry, Miss Carrol . . . is it . . . um . . . blue?”

  Miss Carrol stared at her, shocked. “That’s a very lucky guess.”

  “Whoa! Really?” Elizabella was genuinely surprised.

  “Yes. Now how do we know this?”

  Elizabella shrugged. She had absolutely no idea.

  “Want to take another lucky guess?”

  Elizabella thought about it for a moment. “Um . . . because blue is fancy? Like sapphires and blue-vein cheese and that expensive blue liquid in fancy toilets so you can’t smell rich people’s poo?”

  Everyone giggled. Except Minnie.

  “Actually,” said Miss Carrol, stifling a giggle herself, “it’s because blue flowers, or rather flowers in the violet to blue range, usually produce lots of nectar.”

  “Oh, that explains why there are always loads of bees in the lavender bushes out the front of my house,” said Elizabella.

  “And why they’re always buzzing around the jacaranda in my backyard!” said Huck.

  “Exactly.” Miss Carrol exhaled, relieved the lesson was finally getting on course. “In fact, many flowers that aren’t blue or violet actually produce a blue halo around their petals when light hits them, just to attract bees.”

  “Can humans see this blue light?” Sandy asked.

  “I’ve seen blue light around flowers,” Anaya piped in.

  “Yeah right.” Daphne rolled her eyes. Even though Anaya had proven that she wasn’t a serial liar, on occasion, some people had their doubts.

  “It can be quite tricky to see, but if you look really closely, especially on dark flowers, you might catch an outline of blue light just around the edges of the petals. Now, not all flowers can do this trick, but some tulips can for example, as well as daisies and peonies.”

  “We had dark pink tulips in the garden at my house in Echidna Beach,” said Anaya. “That’s where I saw the blue light.”

  “Cool!” exclaimed Huck.

  “Indeed, very cool.” Miss Carrol picked up a marker. “Now, let’s talk about the anatomical structure of–”

  And no sooner had Miss Carrol got the class back on track than the bell rang to end the lesson.

  “Five chocolate-coated crickets please, Miss Duck.”

  “Coming right up.” Miss Duck smiled warmly at Elizabella as she scooped them into a brown paper bag.

  “They’re for Minnie,” Elizabella explained. “She’s sad for some reason.”

  “Well, chocolate makes everything better,” said Miss Duck, warmly.

  Elizabella spotted Minnie over by the handball court. The gang were all playing, but Minnie was sitting on the sidelines, looking as glum as anything.

  Elizabella saw Mr Gobblefrump patrolling the bitumen and decided to try to make Minnie laugh again. She waved her arms until she got Minnie’s attention and then began somersaulting through the playground past Mr Gobblefrump who somehow didn’t notice her at all. Then she rolled right into Minnie.

  “Did you see that?” Elizabella asked, laughing. “I think Mr Gobblefrump needs to get his eyes checked.”

  “Maybe he thought you were a tumbleweed, rolling away to nowhere,” Minnie said, letting out a big sigh.

  “Cheer up, Minnie,” Elizabella said, pouring the chocolate-coated crickets onto her lap. “I have good news.” But Minnie wasn’t listening. She was just staring straight through the handball game unfolding in front of her.

  Sandy skidded the ball to Anaya, who slammed it so hard into the ground that it bounced high in the air and straight down onto Elizabella’s knot. Elizabella headed it back to the court where it landed in a surprised Evie’s square and bounced straight back out before she had time to react.

  “You’re out!” Ava exclaimed.

  “No way,” Evie replied, “that was interference from Elizabella’s head!”

  “Sorry!” said Elizabella.

  “You know the rule: as long as it doesn’t touch the ground, you can play on after a rebound,” said Ava.

  “Who are you, Mr Gob
blefrump?” said Evie, accusingly.

  Elizabella giggled and nudged Minnie, who didn’t respond at all. I HAVE to make her laugh! Elizabella thought.

  “I’ll be back,” she said to Minnie. Elizabella got up and raced inside the school building, being careful to power walk when she passed a teacher before bursting into a jog again until she reached her destination: the lost property room. It was unattended. Excellent, she thought to herself as she discovered a shelf marked “Lost Undies”. She grabbed an armful of them, then went to the desk where she found a stapler in a drawer. She stapled all the undies together then hurried back into the playground and waited by the flagpole.

  The Bilby Creek school flag had been designed by Mr Gobblefrump himself. In beautiful old calligraphy it said which meant “No Running” in Latin. Underneath it was a pair of sneakers with a big struck through them.

  Elizabella looked over at Mr Gobblefrump who was walking into the tuckshop. This was her chance. She put her hands on the flagpole rope and pulled. Looking up, she watched as the flag made its way down until she could eventually reach it. She carefully removed it and attached the undies flag in its place. Then she hoisted her creation higher and higher until it flew proudly in the sky. She dropped the original flag on the ground.

  “Woaaah!”

  “Check it out!” the cries rang through the playground as the new flag flapped in the breeze, from its high hoist.

  “Undies flag! Undies flag!” people began to chant.

  Elizabella ran over to Minnie.

  “Hey Minnie, you like the new school flag?”

  Minnie looked up and saw her friend’s latest stunt waving in the air. She started to laugh. For a moment. Then she looked even sadder than before.

  “Elizabella,” she said. “I’m moving to New York.”

  Elizabella’s eyes widened.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you for days,” she said. “Mum got offered a job in New York City so my parents are moving us again.”

  “No, they’re not!” Elizabella said angrily.

  “They are.”

  “We have to stop them!”

  “Elizabella, I don’t think this is something we can fix.”

  “Of course it is! We just have to think about it!”

  “They’ve made up their minds,” said Minnie, resigned. “I’m going to New York and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Elizabella’s heart sank right down, from her chest, all the way to her toes.

  “What’s your news?” Minnie asked.

  “Oh, um . . .” Elizabella’s news seemed pointless now. “Mr Gobblefrump says I can put on a play with Year Four if I can figure out how to do it for free,” she mumbled.

  “Cool,” Minnie said flatly.

  “Yeah, I guess,” said Elizabella. “You can help me? One last big thing together before . . .” she trailed off.

  “No thanks,” said Minnie. “I’m going to avoid fun things until I have to leave. The more fun I have the harder it will be when the time comes. So I think I’m just going to steer clear of fun.”

  Elizabella looked at Minnie, horrified. It was just about the saddest thing she’d ever heard.

  Mr Gobblefrump came out of the tuckshop. He seemed happy – until he looked up and saw the undies flag.

  “WHO. DID. THIS?” Mr Gobblefrump demanded through his megaphone.

  “He’ll never know it was me,” Elizabella said. “He was in the tuckshop the whole time.”

  “It was Elizabella!” yelled Daphne.

  Elizabella gasped. “What a little snitch!”

  “I guess your play probably won’t happen now,” Minnie said.

  “I guess not.”

  “We can be sad together instead.”

  “Elizabella!” Mr Gobblefrump said, pacing up and down his small office.

  “I would have thought that somebody who had the audacity to ask if they could disrupt the entire end-of-year curriculum to put on a play, would have had the common sense not to get in an obscene amount of trouble! I designed our school flag myself, and to disrespect it by replacing it with . . . with . . .” his moustache was twitching in anger, “UNDERGARMENTS! Well, well, I never!”

  “Mr Gobblefrump, let me explain,” she said.

  “I will allow you to speak,” he said. “But do so knowing that there is no explanation in the universe which will satisfy me.”

  “It’s just that,” and Elizabella’s lip started to quiver. “Minnie has been so sad. I just wanted to make her laugh. She’s moving to New York and we’ll never see each other again.” Elizabella burst into tears.

  Mr Gobblefrump looked her up and down. In spite of all his better instincts, he felt a little sorry for the girl.

  “Well,” he said, opening the latest edition of the Bilby Creek Rule Book. “It seems there are some extenuating circumstances – i.e., things beyond our control – such as a good friend leaving Bilby Creek, which allow for a relaxation of certain punishments such as permanent detention every day for disrespecting the school flag.”

  “Thanks, Mr Gobblefrump.” Elizabella sniffed.

  “That being said, one cannot raise an underpants flag in the playground with no consequences at all. If I let that happen today, heaven knows how many underpants flags I’ll be dealing with tomorrow . . .” He tapped his lip while he thought on it. I could have her reorganise the lost property room . . . hmmm, no, that could go terribly wrong.

  “Okay,” he said, “tomorrow I want you to bring me a report about flags which includes at least ten interesting facts.”

  “Well I suppose that’s fair,” Elizabella sighed. “Can we still put on a play if I can work out how to do it for free?”

  “I genuinely don’t see how that would be possible at all, but if you present me with some sort of miraculous plan, I will . . . consider considering it. But only on the condition that you absolutely do not get in trouble again for the rest of the year. And don’t forget your flag homework!”

  “A lot of people think that theatre began around 600 BC with the Ancient Greeks; however, many others argue it’s been around much longer than that, and indeed goes as far back as 8500 BC to some of the earliest human societies.”

  “Sorry I’m late,” Elizabella said, walking into class after her telling-off.

  Miss Carrol had wiped the board free from bee anatomy and had decided to go with the flow. If the children wanted to talk about theatre all day, then they could learn something at the same time.

  Normally Elizabella would have been thrilled for a lesson on theatre, but all she could think about was Minnie leaving.

  Miss Carrol could hear whispers in the classroom.

  “Is anything the matter?” she turned and asked.

  “I thought we were learning about bees,” Huck replied.

  “We were,” said Miss Carrol. “But given you’re all obsessed with theatre now, we’re putting bees to one side for the minute.”

  “Oh,” said Huck. “I wanted to learn more about what bees see.”

  Miss Carrol sighed. Now they care about bees?

  “Where was I? That’s right. Ancient Greece. Many of the hallmarks of what we consider to be theatre today did start in Ancient Greece, including the word ‘theatre’ which comes from the Greek word ‘Theatron’ meaning ‘to behold’.”

  “Miss Carrol, can bees see pink light or just blue light?” Daphne was fidgeting in her chair.

  “We’ve moved on from bees! Now, the Ancient Greeks divided plays into tragedies and comedies, which we still do today. They also had many wonderful innovations like the trapdoor and masks to communicate emotions.”

  Elizabella looked at Minnie who was gazing gloomily out the window. She wanted so much to make her friend happy.

  “Miss Carrol?” Elizabella asked.

  “Yes? But before you continue, please remember that we are discussing theatre.”

  “Of course. What is a bee’s favourite play?”

  “Eli
zabella . . .” Miss Carrol warned.

  “Macbeeth!” she blurted back and quickly looked over at Minnie, who had an involuntary smile creeping its way across her face.

  Miss Carrol stared at her. Then let out a little chuckle. Elizabella smiled too.

  Note to self, Elizabella thought. Stop risking getting in trouble until Year Five.

  “Do you want to get an ice-cream?”

  “No . . .” Elizabella stared at the ground as she trudged home from school. Huck was trying to cheer her up.

  “We could find some dogs to pat in the park?”

  “Nah.”

  “What if we go and spy on people’s shopping trolleys in the GoodTime Supermarket and guess what they’re having for dinner?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Elizabella,” Huck was worried now. “You love spying on people. What’s wrong?”

  “Huck, everything is wrong. Literally everything. Did you know Minnie is moving to New York?”

  “Oh no!” Huck was shocked. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know! I’m sure there is a solution out there, but Minnie has given up. It’s so sad.”

  “Oh no . . .” said Huck again, stopping dead in his tracks. They had just arrived at the entrance to the park near their houses.

  “I know, it’s horrible!” said Elizabella.

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Huck continued. Then he pointed a quivering finger towards the giant statue of a bilby in the middle of the park. Elizabella followed his finger. And then she saw it. Peeking out from behind the concrete bilby was the floppy, knotty-haired head of none other than Toddberry. And right next to him was a head with two plaits that belonged to a . . . girl? Then the two heads turned to each other and their lips collided.

  “Kissing!” Huck hissed. “Your brother is kissing!”

  Elizabella stood still, her mouth agape.

  “I need to scrub out my eyes with soap and then bleach then I need to pluck them out of my head and flush them down the toilet!”

  “Ewwwww!” Huck screamed and laughed. Elizabella turned away but not before she saw them lock lips again.