lonely on the farm. He should have playmates,” KC said. “So I was thinking, we could pardon—I mean
you
could pardon—a bunch of other turkeys to go to Mount Vernon with him!”
“Other turkeys?” the president echoed.
KC grinned. “You could ask all the senators to pardon their turkeys,” she said. “You could ask all the members of the House of Representatives to pardon their turkeys, too. Then the turkeys could go to live at Mount Vernon together!”
“Goodness!” Yvonne said, setting mugs of coffee in front of the president and vice president. “That would be hundreds of turkeys!”
“Five hundred and thirty-six, to be exact,” the vice president said.
Marshall nearly choked on his juice.
2
Pardon Me!
“Sweetheart, I don’t know,” the president said. “The senators and members of the House make their own Thanksgiving plans. I can’t tell them what to do and what to eat.”
“I know,” said KC. “But couldn’t you ask?”
“And what if they agree?” KC’s mom asked. “I hope you’re not suggesting they bring their turkeys to the White House.”
“How about there?” Marshall said. He pointed to a headline in the newspaper that said N ATIONAL M ALL T O G ET N EW L AWN T HIS S PRING . “There’s tons of room!”
“We can’t bring hundreds of turkeys to the National Mall,” the president said. “Who would take care of them?”
“I would, and Marshall would help me,” KC said.
Everyone looked at Marshall.
Marshall just shrugged.
“I like KC’s idea,” the vice president said. “I’ll bet a lot of senators and representatives would pardon their turkeys if asked.”
The president shook his head. “I don’t feel it’s the president’s place to ask others not to eat turkey on Thanksgiving,” he said. “But I’m still going to pardon Cloud!”
KC’s mother gave her a hug. “Time for school,” she said. “Take some fruit.”
KC and Marshall each chose an apple from the bowl and headed downstairs.
“Sorry our idea—I mean your idea—got chopped,” Marshall said.
“Who says it got chopped?” KC asked.
“Well, you heard what the president said,” Marshall said.
KC grinned. “Maybe he can’t ask peoplenot to eat turkey on Thanksgiving,” she said.
“But I sure can!”
The last class of the day was art. KC drew a huge picture of Cloud. She used the biggest drawing paper Ms. Vango, the art teacher, had. She drew a black circle around his left eye, then used a red crayon for the wattle that hung under his chin. The picture was almost life-sized.
“Great drawing,” Marshall said. “It looks just like Cloud.”
“Thank you.” KC carefully folded the picture and placed it inside her backpack. Then she asked Ms. Vango if she could take home another large sheet of drawing paper and a black marker.
“Take two sheets,” Ms. Vango said. “Are you and Marshall doing an art project at the White House?”
“Something like that!” KC said.
When the bell rang, KC and Marshall were the first kids out the door.
“What are you up to now?” Marshall asked as they headed down the street.
KC just grinned.
A short walk took them to the wide marble steps of the Capitol building. KC dropped her backpack on one of the steps. She took out her picture of Cloud, unfolded it, and handed it to Marshall. “Hold this, please,” she said.
“Not until you tell me what we’re doing here!” Marshall said. “This is the Capitol!”
KC pulled out one of the sheets of drawing paper and the marker.
“I know that,” she said. “Congresspeople come here all day long. And they’re all going to see our sign.”
“What sign?”
KC sat on the step and began writing on the drawing paper. “The sign asking peopleto pardon their turkeys this year!” she said. “The sign I’m making right now!”
“But you can’t do that!” Marshall said, plopping down next to her.
“Who says?” KC asked. “It’s a free country!”
“The president says, that’s