Ann Martin - Mallory Pike, No.1 Fan

"Not another one." I sighed.

"I told Haley, Becca, and Buddy that your mom was here to decide if the play was insulting. If she says it isn't, they'll stay in the play. If she says it is insulting, they want out." "Mom, you have to say it's okay," I pleaded.

"Mallory, I'll give you my honest opinion," Mom insisted as she took a seat in the third row.

Jessi and I herded the kids into their positions on stage. Luckily, Danielle was back. She looked a bit worn, but her dark eyes were shining with excitement. "I memorized all my lines while I waited in the doctor's office," she told me.

"Good work," I said sincerely. "Give this your best. Today is an important rehearsal. The whole future of the play depends on it." "I'll try," Danielle assured me, and I knew she would.

"Okay, everybody, take it from the top!" I yelled as I went back to my seat in the front row next to Jessi.

Danielle came out and said her first line. "How I wish I could write something truly great . .

I glanced at Mom. She smiled back at me. I figured that was a good sign.

Next, Haley came in as Jill, the Vanessa part which I'd rewritten. She still held her script since the lines were new. "Valery, Valery, what could it be? Why am I not more like thee? With wit so quick, and heart so kind, surpassed by only your brilliant mind. What do you think of my latest poem, Valery?" Danielle as Valery replied with new lines I'd given her character. "It's lovely, Jill. But you have to stop comparing yourself to me. You're your own person with your own unique talents." I sneaked another peek at Mom. She had to have liked that line. This time she didn't notice me. She sat forward with her chin propped on her fingertips, watching the play intently.

"Oh, Valery, I don't know how you put up with the rest of us," said Haley as Jill. Then Haley put her hands on her hips and took two strides to the front of the stage. "Vanessa would never say something like that," she objected. "Never in a billion years." "Just say the lines the way they're written," I told her impatiently.

Buddy came spinning onstage with a real bucket - in which he'd cut two eye holes -over his head. "Help! Help! I'm stuck!" he cried.

I almost jumped up to object to the eyeholes, but I thought that it might be best not to call too much attention to the bucket. In the new version, Jill pulled the bucket off but didn't fall down. She said, "On his head he wears a pail unintentionally stuck. Oh, Valery how can you stand to live with such a cluck?" "Jill, please stop rhyming," said Danielle as Valery. "It gets a little annoying after awhile." "Sorry, Valery," Jill (Haley) replied. "Sometimes I just can't stop myself." Wendy came on, twirling the Skip-It over her head. The Skip-It slipped from her hands and bonked Haley on the head.

"Ow! Watch it!" Haley cried.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," I told Mom.

Mom nodded slowly. I didn't like the pained expression on her face. And the play had just begun. By the time Char came on as Mom and asked Valery to do all that work, I had a pretty strong feeling - that the arbitrator's verdict might not go in my favor. I checked Mom's expression, and saw that her eyebrows were arched and her lips were tight - not a good sign at all.

"Good job," I told the kids when the play was done. "We'll meet again on Monday. I want everyone to have all their lines memorized by then." "Wait a minute," Char objected. "We want to hear what your mother has to say first." I turned to Mom. "What did you think?" I asked nervously.

"It's pretty insulting, Mal," she said softly.

"She didn't like it, did she?" cried Char. "I told you," she said to Becca.

"Mallory, I have to quit," Buddy spoke up. "I'm sorry, but I have to." "Me too," said Haley.

"We do too," Char and Becca spoke up together.

"Mom! Say something to them!" I begged. "It wasn't that bad!" "What about a rewrite?" Mom suggested. "You could soften the characters." "But the play will be performed in a week. They can't learn a new play in that amount of time," I objected.

"They don't all know their lines now," Jessi reminded me. "It shouldn't make that much difference." "But I don't want to write an untrue play," I said to Mom. "I don't want to tell lies the way. . . the way. . . some authors do." "This isn't a true picture as it is now, Mal," Mom insisted. "Your brothers and sisters all have endearing traits as well as annoying characteristics, just as all people do. Just as you do." "Sorry about having to quit, Mallory," said Charlotte as she climbed down off the stage.

"Hold on," I told her and the rest of the cast. "All right. I'll do some rewriting. Would you all agree to wait until you see the revision?" The kids looked at one another.

"The revision will probably make it okay," Jessi said to the kids. "Why don't you give Mallory a break?" "I don't want Nicky mad at me," said Buddy.

"Buddy, you can see Pow no matter what," I told him. "But I promise, my brothers and sisters will approve of the next script. I'll have them initial it if it will make you happy." "That would be good," said Becca.

"All right," I said.

What had I done? I was letting others tell me what I should write. Then again, Mom had said it wasn't true the way it was. I thought it was. But if no one else agreed, how true could it be?

My head began to swim. Not only would I have to rethink the essay part of my project about Ms. Hayes, I had to rethink my play now, too.

Chapter 10.

I'm not initialing this," Margo told me on Thursday afternoon. By working like crazy, I'd finished revising my play. It wasn't exactly the play I'd set out to write, since it wasn't as true to life, but it was still pretty good.

"Why won't you sign?" I asked Margo. "What's wrong with this play?" "My character is named Muriel now. I hate that name. When you rewrote the play, you gave everybody else good names." "Margo," I snapped impatiently. "What name would you like?" "Melissa," she said. "It's the name Mom and Dad should have named me. I'm definitely a Melissa." I flipped open my manuscript, crossed out "Muriel," and printed in "Melissa." "There, Margo, you are now Melissa. Happy?" Margo smiled and nodded as she initialed the play. Hers was the last signature I needed.

122 - All the rest of my brothers and sisters had read the play (Claire had had it read to her) and said it was all right by them. Mom had made a copy of it and was reading it that very moment.

Now everything depended on the Kids Club. They'd only have two more rehearsals before I had to show Mr. Williams a production of the play. They'd have to memorize a lot of new lines in a very short time.

They weren't the only ones who would be busy between now and the play. The elementary school auditorium would only be available to me next Wednesday, so that's when I'd have to do the play. But my report was due in four days, by Monday. I had to get going on it tonight.

But how could I compare the way my life influenced my work and the way Ms. Hayes's life influenced hers, when my play had been changed because it was so unpopular, and Ms. Hayes's writing wasn't based on her life at all?

As I do whenever I have a big problem, I called Jessi. She answered the phone and I explained my problem to her. "Any ideas?" I asked hopefully.

"Well," she began, "it seems sort of like a science experiment." "What do you mean?" "In a science experiment you set out to test something, a hypothesis, but if your result isn't what you thought it would be, then that's your answer." "I still don't get it," I admitted.

"Sometimes in an experiment you get an answer you never expected. That doesn't mean your experiment was a failure. It could mean you were asking the wrong question. It could mean you learned something new, and your experiment was even more valuable than if you'd gotten the result you expected. You know, that's how scientists discover new things." "Thanks, I think," I told her. "How's your project coming?" "All right, I guess. I was typing up the story of The Nutcracker when you called. Mr. Williams wanted me to illustrate my stories, too. That's going to be the hard part for me." "Good luck," I said. "I'm going to hang up now and think some more about what you said. I understand what you mean, but I'm not exactly sure what I did learn from all this." "Okay, see you tomorrow," said Jessi.