Piping the Praises

The next day, during the morning's science class, Mrs. Whimbrel was piping the praises of Polaris, "You know, the North Star," she beamed, tapping the globe alit with constellations.  P. Martin couldn't help noticing Skye Bunting's interest in the lesson.  Each time she turned the globe, so that all the students would have a better view, Skye would pivot his seat, never taking his eyes off the round celestial map (The Godgirls).

http://earthsky.org/brightest-stars/polaris-the-present-day-north-star

Skye's unwavering gaze perplexed P. Martin.  What could Mrs. Whimbrel possibly point out that he didn't already know?  But, there he sat, eyes glued to the globe, as if hypnotized.

P. Martin glanced around the room.  Everyone seemed hypnotized, for that matter -- hypnotized or bored.   Everyone, that is, except Jaeger and Kestrel who had pushed their chairs together and were boasting about how they, being the highest jumpers on the basketball team, could leap up, swipe Pole-air-is from the sky, land, and grab the ball before the referee blew the whistle.  

Couldn't she hear them?  Their constant clattering no different than crows?  Only yesterday, Mrs. Whimbrel had reminded him of Classroom Number 1, but, today, she let their noise breeze over her. 

But not Skye!  As if hit by a gust of wind, he spun around in his seat and belted out, "What?  You guys think you're Orion?"  

  

Vocabulary

Evenlength =>  The time of year when the days and nights are of equal length, the equinox (sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1897.  See Jeff Kacirk's Forgotten English, 2013 Word of the Day Calendar.  

Evenlength

Soon, winter's long icy chill loosened its hold.  Mrs. Whimbrel had taken down the doily Valentine's Day hearts pasted around the room, along with the bright Mardi Gras beads dangling from the ceiling.  With each passing day, P. Martin thought more about Uncle Scout, wondered when he might return, and what stories he'd recount.  He couldn't wait to tell him about his new friend, Skye, and how he'd lived in Mexico, seen clusters of Monarchs clouding the skies, and had traveled to some of the same places they'd been to.    

And, to top it all, he'd say, Skye loves traveling at night, something
P. Martin discovered that the morning Mrs. Whimbrel wrote "even length" on the board.  

"You won't be needing your dictionaries," she'd said.  "It's one of those words that hasn't been used for a long, long time."

The second hand on the clock ticked like a metronome, measuring the steady beat of classroom silence.  "Think," she said.  "Evenlength."

Tick.  Tick.  Tick.  Then, in an instant, it dawned on P. Martin.   Evenlength -- something the same on both sides.  Symmetrical.  He waved his arm at the exact time Skye raised his.

Naturally, Mrs. Whimbrel called on Skye first.  "The seasons," Skye had said.

"Go on."

"It's the equinox," P. Martin interrupted.  His anxiousness about Uncle Scott's return had him looking at the calendar every day.  "Today is the vernal equinox!" 

"Not bad, Master P. Martin," Mrs. Whimbrel said, then corrected him for breaking Classroom Rule Number 1:  "Do not speak until called upon."  

"Sorry," he said.  His face flushed, and he could feel an itch creeping up his body.

"But he's right," Skye said.  "It's when night and day are the same length.  Happens only twice a year."

"And when is the other time?" Mrs. Whimbrel asked, standing by his desk.

"That's easy," Skye said, matter-of-fact.  "The autumnal equinox; they're the two times in the year when when the ecliptic line intersects the equator."

P. Martin turned and smiled at Skye, liking him all the more.  For the first time all year, Mrs. Whimbrel's had been stunned into silence.  The ecliptic line:  twelve constellations (thirteen if you count Ophiuchus) wrapped around the earth like a star-studded belt, something Uncle Scout had taught him.  

http://earthsky.org/space/what-is-the-ecliptic   




  

made time fly.  And, before he knew it, the long winter months gave way to spring.

Skye Made Time Fly

What amazed P. Martin most about Skye was that nothing flustered him, not the girls’ giggling, not The Gang, not the drudgery of seatwork or having to seat still – not even The Changing of the Seats, which had become a daily occurrence.

“View it as shifting currents,” Mrs. Whimbrel said, on Skye’s second day.  She clicked her stopwatch, and before P. Martin could warn him about Jaeger and Kestrel, Skye was off, skipping around the room and whistling.  Within seconds, he’d claimed his seat.

“Over here, P. Martin,” he chimed out and tapped the desk in front of him.  “You’re right here.”

P. Martin couldn’t believe it!  As small as Skye was, he’d outmaneuvered Jaeger and Kestrel and had sat down, before they’d taken a step.  He laughed, flew to his seat, and before sitting down, ran a circle around it.  “Thanks,” he said, turning to Skye.

From that day on, Skye made time fly.


  

Vocabulary

Nonchalant => acting as if nothing bothers you; remaining cool and appearing unconcerned

Act As If They Didn't Exist

On the way to school the next morning, P. Martin couldn’t shake off his mother’s words. Act as if they didn’t even exist.

Act as if they didn’t even exist, he repeated, then caught himself, swallowing the words mid-sentence.  Quickly, he glanced in both directions, hoping no one was in earshot and hunched up his shoulders to readjust his backpack.  

It’d be just his luck that a someone from school would have heard him and spread the word. A match tossed into grass.  P. Martin talks to himself!  P. Martin talks to himself! He imagined his classmates buzzing around him like a swarm of mosquitoes, chanting Sp-ham, Sp-ham, the Repertory Man.  Just the thought of it made him shutter.  

And, then, he thought of Skye Bunting.  New to the class,  small, and didn’t even flinch when Jaeger hovered over him.  Just whistled like he had all the time in the day.  P. Martin wondered how he could be so -- so nonchalant, as his mother would say.  Probably never felt an itch in his life, he thought and hiked his backpack onto his shoulders again.  

Another Allusion

When P. Martin's mother has dubbed Jaeger and his friends as Jaeger and The Jets, she is referring to one of the two gangs in Leonard Bernstein's musical West Side Story, which is based on Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet.  The other gang was The Sharks.  These NYC west side teenage gangs represented the rivalry between two ethnic groups, the white blue collar workers (The Jets) and the Puerto Ricans (The Sharks).  

Like Romeo and Juliet, Tony from The Jets (representing Romeo from Shakespeare's Capulet family) falls in love with Bernardo's sister Maria (Juliet from Shakespeare's Montague family).  Bernardo is the head of The Sharks.  Because these two "families" are at war with each other, Tony and Maria's love and dream of living a wedded life together are doomed to end in tragedy, which is what happened in Romeo and Juliet.

West Side Story takes place in New York City during the 1950's, and the original Broadway production was in 1957.  The lyrics are by Stephen Sondheim, and it was this musical that launched his career.

Vocabulary

Sentinel  => someone who guards a post

Think about how Skye Bunting refused to be shoved around by Jaeger and Kestrel; by holding his ground he was acting like a guard -- or sentinel.  Another word for sentinel is sentry.

Just Whistled

P. Martin liked Skye. Despite his being short, he wasn't intimated by Jaeger and the Jets, as his mother had dubbed them a while back, something Skye proved on his first day.  After Mrs. Whimbrel had lined up the class outside the cafeteria, Jaeger and Kestrel came from behind and tried shoving him, but Skye held his ground like some sentinel guarding his post and whistled.  P. Martin couldn't believe it.  

"Whistled?" P. Martin's mother repeated when he'd told her the story while setting the table for dinner.

"That's what I said -- whistled.  Didn't say a thing, didn't turn his head, or cower.  He just whistled, as if they weren't even there."  

"Smart kid," she'd said, "ignoring them like that, acting as if they didn't even exist."

http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/indigo_bunting/id

   

Clamp It!

The next day, Mrs. Whimbrel announced the arrival of a new student, Skye Bunting, and showed him to the empty desk in front of P. Martin.  Not only had he come prepared with school supplies and dictionary, but the definition of chevron neatly written on lined paper and sketches to match.  And, not just perfectly drawn V's and badges, but of a meadowlark with a black triangle marking its bold yellow chest.   

P. Martin leaned forward.  "Did you draw that?" he asked.  "I mean, draw it all by yourself?"

Skye nodded a yes.

"Wish I could draw like that," P. Martin said.  The picture reminded him of summer and the warmth Uncle Scout brought with him, every time he flew in for a visit.  


Mrs. Whimbrel posted the pictures on the board. "Chevron, indeed!" she clapped in delight.  "Why, these are positively gorgeous  -- just like Van Gogh's sunflowers!"


"Positively gorgeous," Jaeger mimicked, "just like Van Gogh's sunflowers." 

P. Martin swung around in his seat and said, "Clamp it!"

Vocabulary

Troglobite =>  animals that are blind or partially blind and have adapted to their dark surroundings

Troglodyte =>  cave dwellers

Not a Good Week

Jaeger jumped back, nearly knocking over Mrs. Whimbrel.  She caught herself on the desk behind her.  Once steady, she turned and glared at both boys.  

"Sit down, now," she ordered.


P. Martin shivered.  More than her shrill voice or beady, probing eyes chilling him was that warped blade of a nose capable of knifing through any defense he might offer.  This was not going to be a good week.

Jaeger, feigning an injured arm, failed to notice just how close Mrs. Whimbrel stood.  As soon as he opened his mouth, she sniped, "Clamp it!"  Jaeger sat down.

"Guess she ruffled your feathers," Kestrel snickered. 

"Silence," she snapped and headed to the board like a fast moving cloud.  "Chevron?" she asked.

P. Martin did not need to open his dictionary.  You'd have to be a troglodyte not to know, he thought, given her idea of musical chairs.

Newton's Laws of Motion demonstration link

Here's a link you just might find useful when reading about P. Martin's allusion to Mrs. Whimbrel's knowing "anything about the Laws of Motion.

http://www.imcpl.org/kids/blog/?p=8876

Vocabulary

Chevron  

Think about Mrs. Whimbrel's latest two seating arrangements.  What do you think chevron means?  

And, the winner is . . . the reader who guessed an insignia in the shape of a V.

So, what does Insignia mean?  A badge or emblem with a V mark.

This shape is how Mrs. Whimbrel has distinguished her seating arrangement from any other P. Martin has ever seen.

Ya-ow!

The week following The Changing of the Seats, P. Martin and his classmates entered the classroom to a new seating arrangement and the word "chevron" printed on the chalkboard in big letters.  The desks were still shaped in a "V," only, this time, they were running parallel to the board.  

Mrs. Whimbrel clapped her hands.  "You have two minutes to find your seats."

"Who needs a whistle when you sound like her?" Sterling whispered to P. Martin.

Still angry with him for swiping his chocolate-covered blueberries last week, P. Martin ignored his remark, although he couldn't have agreed more.  But that was the least of his problems.

"Ya-ow," Jaeger shouted when he spotted his desk.  

P. Martin's skin started to itch -- really itch.  Much to his distress, Jaeger's desk was directly behind his, and, already, Jaeger was making a dive for P. Martin's dictionary.  In a flash, he remembered how James Vireo's snapped Kestrel's pencil on Halloween.  P. Martin slammed the desk lid down and said, "Don't even think about it."

Allusion Revisited from a new MarMoo Muse

Remember that an allusion refers to a famous person, event, literary work -- something that is familiar to many readers and/or listeners.

When I defined allusion under Literary Devices on January 25th, I referred to Newton's Laws of Motion.  If you will recall, the second law was illustrated by the result of Jaeger's shoving P. Martin in the lunch line and the acceleration that followed.

Well, a new MarMoo Muse has added a story addition to that scenario:  Let it be known that when P.Martin was shoved in line, a very small classmate, was stepped on, causing a loud shrill and repeated complaint. This shrill little person continued to complain until her best friend and confident stated firmly, "Be careful P. Maritn or Jaeger will make it hard on all of us" (Ann D.) 

Beautiful addition, and welcome Ann!      

Literary Device -- Allusion

Allusion => a casual reference to something or someone famous in history, literature, or event.

When P. Martin thinks of the Laws of Motion when describing Mrs. Whimbrel's running of the class, he is making an allusion to Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727) and one of his scientific theories, known as the Laws of Motion, of which there are three.  

The first is the Law of Inertia:  an object remains still (or inert) until some outside force pushes it.  So, if P. Martin were calmly standing in the lunch line waiting for his turn to buy milk or chocolate-covered insects, he would not be moving (and obeying school rules).  

But life in a lunch line is never that simple.  Enter Jaeger, the biggest in the class, who cuts in line (against school rules) and pushes P. Martin who, once shoved, flies forward. 

The moment P. Martin is shoved and flies forward, he is accelerating; that is, he's moving at a given speed. 

Newton's second law of motion is about acceleration and how an object, once set in motion by a constant force (i.e., Jaeger), will move in constant acceleration in the same direction the outside force (that being Jaeger) is moving.  Mathematically, this law is written in the following equation:  force = mass (the amount of matter in an object) x acceleration (the change in velocity, which measures both speed and direction).

In such a scenario (scene/event), P. Martin's acceleration forward could lead to a series of disastrous consequences.  P. Martin, who had been minding his own business until Jaeger swept in, could then shove into Bob White, who could then fall into Phoebe, who could then . . .  and so on and so forth.  Let's hope, if this were to happen, that Mrs. Whimbrel would see that Jaeger was the instigator of all the commotion and not P. Martin!

Newton's third law says that for every action of one object there is an opposite and equal reaction by another object.  When Jaeger and Kestrel are shoving their desks against one another with equal force, neither are moving. 

Let's return to the lunch line:  let's say Jaeger pushes P. Martin, only P. Martin shoves back.  If they both push/shove with the equal amount of force, they will move the same distance but in the opposite direction.  This could start a shoving match, and both boys would, most likely, be spending lunch time in the office.

Now, let's leave Sir Isaac Newton and move to our own times:  If P. Martin referred to Mrs. Whimbrel's as Katrina, while she whipped through the class rearranging desks before anyone had the chance to remove books and pencils, he would be alluding to Hurricane Katrina, the most destructive hurricane along the Atlantic coast in 2005, an event that most people are familiar with.

Laws of Motion

If anyone knew anything about the Laws of Motion, it was Mrs. Whimbrel --  not the First Law so much, where everything tends to remain at rest, but the Second!  

Halfway through January, once all post holiday talk had drifted off and the temperatures had plummeted, she drew a new seating chart on the board and called it The Changing of the Seats.  As far as P. Martin was concerned, The Changing of the Seats looked like a flock of geese, and once Mrs. Whimbrel said, "Move," the entire activity took on the grating sound of honking.

Stationed at the tip of the V was Mrs. Whimbrel's desk, and, from there, two long rows spanned out from either side.  She had assigned the students according to height, the shortest being closest to the board.  This placed P. Martin dead center, two seats in front of  Sterling Wheeler.  Fortunately, Jaeger sat at tail end of the opposite row and away from Kestrel.  

But that didn't separate them during The Changing of the Seats.  While everyone was moving desks, Kestrel and Jaeger seized the opportunity to shove their desks against one another, so that neither desk moved.  Mrs. Whimbrel snapped at them, ordering them to help others.  Once the two of them joined forces, desks sped across the tiled floor.  

For the first time in months, P. Martin felt the heat in the classroom rise, and that heat made him dream about Brazil, and that, alone, stopped him from itching.

A Flock of Holidays

Thanksgiving quickly gave way to the Christmas season, which, of course, inspired Mrs. Whimbrel's decision to have the class perform Dickens's A Christmas Carol.  After announcing what she thought a "most splendid yuletide idea," she read a passage from the book:

               Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought 

               goose the rarest of of all birds; a feathered phenomenon,

               to which a black swan was a matter of course . . .

To stop himself from scratching, P. Martin squeezed his arms against his sides and sat on his hands.  A class production?  Memorizing lines?  Performing in front of the entire school -- and parents?  

"Why can't we just move now?" he begged his mother the moment he flew into the house and shed off his backpack.  "Uncle Scout did and all his kids have adjusted just fine."  

"And, so will you," she said and made him pick up his backpack, reminding him of The WhiteHouse Rules, and start his homework.

During dinner, she wagered that Kestrel might be cast as Scrooge due to his nasty temperament, but P. Martin argued otherwise.  "He wouldn't know redemption if it flapped him in the face," he'd said and described how, in music class, Kestrel and his cronies harped on about "hovering over a plump, juicy Christmas goose, you know, the one the size of a moaning moose."  

Just like the ghosts, their voices haunted him.  P. Martin thrashed all night.  He dreamt of a spotlight, more glaring than the sun, blinding him and veering him off course.  He crashed into a power line and awoke to a bevy of parents thronging around his bed, chittering about how he was that poor green thing, the one who washed away in the rain.  Given his luck, Mrs. Whimbrel would cast him as the Christmas goose. 

               . . . as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along 

               the carving knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast . . .

Fortunately, the music teacher must have mentioned something to Mrs. Whimbrel, because Mrs. Whimbrel did not cast Kestrel as Scrooge, the role he claimed he'd win, but as the Ghost of Christmas Past.  James Vireo, who had eventually returned to school, was Tiny Tim.  No surprise there.  Grace Christie Rose was Mrs. Cratchit and weeped when she saw the cast list posted on the board.  She almost lost the part when she persisted in flittering about James Vireo, saying, "My son, my son." 

"Yes!" P. Martin uttered as soon as he saw he'd been assigned to the stage crew.  Unfortunately, Sterling Wheeler was also assigned to the crew, and he was just as bad as Kestrel.  Only different.  Sneakier.  When Kestrel -- and Jaeger, for that matter -- had their eye on something they wanted, they just grabbed it.  Sterling, on the other hand, waited until he thought no one was looking and -- well -- just stole it.

As the production date grew closer, P. Martin grew more and more frustrated.  It seemed all Mrs. Whimbrel cared about was that one holiday performance and forgot about all other subjects.  He missed geography -- although, he had to admit, she did talk about London, England and the British Isles.  But he was anxious to learn more about South America, especially Brazil where his Uncle Scout always went during the winter months, and the Amazon. He loved geometry, and science, recording and charting the daily weather, reading the barometric pressure, studying cloud formations, weather patterns, and, most of all, the Laws of Motion.