Hi! Hey. Pull your chair a little closer to the screen you’re reading from. …A little bit closer. …Closer. Okay. Perfect. You didn’t move your chair an inch did you? I was hoping… Never mind. Blogging on.
Going to post a short story today. Enjoy!
Mean Spelling Bee
“Nefarious. N-E-F… Could you use it in a sentence please?” “Of course Miss Spangler. Devon was nefarious for picking things out of his nose in the cafeteria.” “Oh yes. I remember. Thank you. Nefarious. N-E-F-A-R-I-O-U-S. Nefarious.” “That is correct Miss Spangler. Please take your seat.
Henry Waldrop, you’re up next please.”
Eleven year old, Black American, Roddert Harley, with every black hair on his head barbered, black shoes highly shined, and white shirt and navy blue slacks professionally pressed, whispers, “Wow Miss Spangler—I mean Jilly. At first I thought you were going to blow it!” “Me too Roddert. For a minute I couldn’t remember if the word had one F in it or two,” Jilly Spangler whispers back. Her clothes and age matched Roddert’s exactly. Her being a Caucasian girl with dark curly blond hair and dimples were where they differed. “Yeah, me neither. But you got it right Jilly. That’s all that counts,” Roddert said with a friendly smile. Rolling her eyes, Jilly commented, “Yeah. I’m just glad they don’t ask us what these big words mean. It’s tough enough for us sixth graders just to spell them.” “You got that right Jilly.” “Oh. Shhh, Roddert. Merissa Ogglemeyer is up now,” Jilly whispered. “People say she’s the best speller in the whole city.”
“Miss Ogglemeyer, the word is prerequisite.” Merissa, also a Caucasian girl, age 11, was dressed the same as her competitors, but with a superior look on her face, that was scrunched up with disapproval. She flipped some strands of her long brown hair over her shoulder, then folded her arms like a Sargent in the Marine corps.
“Prerequisite? Lady, you’re kidding me right? That word is way too easy for me to spell. I’m not like these Spelling Bee wannabe’s. Give me a harder word to spell.”
The pronouncer adjusted her glasses and stared at the sixth grade rude thing standing on the stage, after which she proceeded to read the girl her rights.
“Uh, excuse me Miss Ogglemeyer. Your assigned word is prerequisite. And you have now only twenty-seven more seconds to spell it, or you will be disqualified. Or is that too easy for you to understand?”
“Okay, okay. I got it. Prerequisite. P-R-E-R-E-Q-U-I-S-I-T-E. Prerequisite.”
“That is correct Miss Ogglemeyer. Now please kindly return to your seat.” Mr. Roddert Harley you’re up next please.”
Going back to her chair, next to Jilly Spangler and Roddert Harley, Merissa Ogglemeyer whispers to them as she takes her seat.
“You two snotty nose spelling bee losers might as well give up now. I’m the best speller in the city and everybody knows it. It’s down to just me, you two, and that Waldrop kid sitting over there. Why don’t you two go home and save yourselves some tears.”
“Don’t listen to her Jilly. She’s just trying to psyche us out,” Roddert defiantly points out.
Merissa sarcastically agrees. “Yeah Jilly. Listen to Ro-dirt. I’m just trying to psyche you out. Especially since you almost blew that last word you just spelled.”
The pronouncer breaks in on the conversation.
“Excuse me children! There will be no talking on the stage, or the three of you will be disqualified. Again, Roddert Harley you’re up next.” “Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you for promptly coming to the podium Mr. Harley. The word is pompous.” “Yes ma’am, Pompous.” Roddert clasps his hands behind his back, looks at the ceiling, and twists his lips in thought for a moment. Five seconds later he folds his arms across his chest and spells out, “M-E-R-I-S-S-A O-G-G-L-E-M-E-Y-E-R. Pompous.”
The pronouncer has a sincere look of regret on her face, as she begins to deliver the sad news to Roddert. “Oh I’m so sorry Mr. Harley, that is incor…”
The pronouncer silences her voice as she notices one of the judges holding a hand up in the air. Signaling to her that he and the other judges be given a moment to consult. After only a very brief three seconds, they all give Roddert’s spelling an enthusiastic thumbs up!
Smiling with great satisfaction, the pronouncer states, “Well Mr. Harley, it seems that the judges agree that you have not misspelled the word pompous. Congratulations! You may take your seat. Miss Spangler, you’re up.”