Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself by Judy Blume Read Free Book Online

Not even when she dove off the high board. You’d never know you had to kick to stay afloat from watching Esther Williams. And when she swam in the movies there was always beautiful music in the background and handsome men standing around, waiting. It would be great fun to be Esther Williams!
    “This is it,” Mom said. “Central Beach Elementary School …”
    “It doesn’t look like a school,” Sally said and her stomach growled. “Oh, be quiet,” she told herself.
    “It doesn’t look like your school at home,” Mom said.
    “That’s what I meant.”
    “It’s Spanish style … see the red tile roof … and all the archways … it’s very pretty …”
    “But it’s so big,” Sally said. At home there was just one class for each grade. She knew all the teachers and they knew her. She’d had the same kids in her class since kindergarten. This school was one floor, but it extended for a full block. It was U-shaped too, and made of white stucco. “And look at all those trailers,” Sally said. “What do you suppose they’re for?”
    “They’re portable classrooms,” Mom told her. “The schools down here are crowded.”
    “A person could get lost in a school like this.”
    “You’ll find your way around in no time.”
    “And it looks about five hundred years old, too.”
    “I doubt that it’s
that
old,” Mom said, looking around. “Now, first of all we’ve got to find the office.” She stopped a freckle-faced boy. “Can you tell us where the office is?”
    “Yes, Ma’am …” he said, “right around the corridor and second door to your left.”
    “Thank you.”
    “He called you
Ma’am
,” Sally said.
    “Yes, he was very polite.”
    “That sounds so funny.”
    “I think it sounds nice.”
    They found the office and Mom presented Sally’s transfer card and school records. The clerk said, “Well, Sally … you’ll be in 5B, Miss Swetnick’s class … and she’s one of our nicest fifth grade teachers. I know you’ll like her.”
    “Thank you,” Sally said, wondering if she should add
Ma’am
but deciding against it.
    “Now then …” the clerk went on, “the nurse’s office is around the corridor to your right, past the portables and the library, until you come to the art room, then turn left and continue down that corridor until you come to the fourth room on your right … it says
Nurse
on the door … got that?”
    “I think so,” Mom said.
    “Why do I have to go to the nurse?” Sally asked.
    “It’s just a formality,” the clerk told her.
    The nurse was fat, with bleached blonde hair in an upsweep. Sally knew it was bleached because the black roots were showing along the part, like when Mom needed a touch-up. She had two chins and a huge bosom, the kind that went straight across her chest with no space in-between. “Good morning …” she sang, taking the folder from Mom. “And who do we have here?” She looked inside the folder. “Sally Freedman?” she asked, as if she were guessing.
    “Yes,” Sally said.
    “Just get in from New York?”
    “New Jersey …” How did she know?
    “Okay, Sally … your mother can wait right here while you come with me …” They went into another room. It smelled like alcohol. There were small cots lined up against the wall, with white curtains between them. In the corner was a doctor’s scale and next to it, a glass cabinet filled with bandages, bottles and instruments. Sally hoped she wasn’t going to get a shot.
    “Shoes off, Sally … and step on the scale,” the nurse said. As she weighed her she added, “Don’t eat much, do you?”
    “Enough,” Sally answered.
    “Not very tall either.” The nurse adjusted the marker so that it just touched the top of Sally’s head.
    “I’m still growing,” Sally said.
    “Let’s hope so.”
    After that the nurse handed Sally a piece of cardboard. “Cover your left eye, look at the chart on the wall and tell me which way the E is