All About Sam

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Authors: Lois Lowry
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downstairs. "Time to go! Your ride is here!"
    Sam put his Show-and-Tell surprise into the pocket of his jacket. He headed for the stairs. Then he turned back, grabbed something else that was on the table, and put that into his other pocket.
    He ran downstairs, kissed his mother good-bye, and headed off to the waiting station wagon.
    ***
    It was Circle Time. Skipper had pasted a fat smiling yellow sun on the calendar's Monday, and Mrs. Bennett had played "You Are My Sunshine" on the piano while all the children sang. Altogether, they had stood in the circle and said the Pled Jelly-juntz. "I pled jelly-juntz to the flag," Sam had said in his most grown-up voice, with his hand over his heart. His other hand was in the pocket of his jeans, holding on to his secret for Show-and-Tell.
    Everyone called "Me! Me!" when Mrs. Bennett said, "Who has something for Show-and-Tell today?"
    Mrs. Bennett looked around the circle and said, "Let's let Amy go first. Amy?"
    Sam made a face. He didn't like Amy much. She had a long ponytail, which was perfect for pulling, especially if she flipped it around right in front of your face. But if you pulled it, Amy cried and told on you.
    Amy stood, flipped her long ponytail, and held up a postcard. "My grandma sent me this," she said. "From Florida."
    Everybody stared politely at the picture of a palm tree. "
My
grandma sent
me
a postcard from Florida," Rosie said, "and it had an
alligator
on it."
    "I saw a real alligator at the zoo!" Adam yelled. "
Two
alligators I saw!"
    All the children began making alligators out of their hands, snapping them like big jaws, grabbing each other's sleeves and pulling fiercely, the way they imagined real alligators would.
    Sam didn't. Sam was still holding his surprise inside his pocket.
    "Thank you, Amy," Mrs. Bennett said. "That's a lovely postcard. Quiet, children! No more alligators, please! Who's next? Leah? How about you? Do you and Rollie have something to show us today?"
    Leah nodded her head shyly, and Mrs. Bennett pushed her to the center of the circle. Rollie was Leah's wheelchair. Once, when Leah first started school, her mother had been there with her. Her mother had lifted Leah out of the wheelchair and held her on her lap, so that each of the other children could have a turn in Rollie.
    Sam hoped that Leah's Show-and-Tell would be that everybody could try Rollie again.
    But Leah put her finger to her lips and said, "Shhh. Everybody be quiet so you can hear what I learned to do. Zip your lips."
    Everybody zipped their lips, even Sam. He had to let go of his secret in order to zip his lips.
    When they were all very still, Leah took a deep breath and swallowed. Then she gave an enormous burp. She grinned.
    "Fake burp," Leah said. "My daddy taught me."
    All of the children forgot that their lips were zipped. They shrieked with laughter.
    "Do it again!" Sam called, and Leah did it again, very loudly.
    "Show us how! Show us how!" The kids were calling all together.
    So Leah sat up very straight in her wheelchair and gave burping lessons. Fake burping wasn't easy. Skipper finally managed a pretty good one, but most of the children simply giggled and sputtered, and Nicky got the hiccups.
    Mrs. Bennett was the most successful at it. She did a huge loud fake burp on her second try, and everybody clapped.
    "Okay," Mrs. Bennett said, laughing. "Time for just one more person before we go out to the playground." She looked around the circle.
    "Sam," she announced. "Your turn."
    Sam stood up. He knew his was better than the palm tree postcard. But the fake burps—well, it would be tough to be more interesting than fake burps.
    He took his father's pipe out of his pocket and put the stem of it into his mouth. Then he took the lighter out of his other pocket and tried to push hard on the little ridged wheel that would make the flame appear. All of the children were watching in amazement.
    "HOLD IT!" said Mrs. Bennett in a loud voice. "Stop right there, Sam Krupnik.

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