Spelldown Read Online Free PDF Page B

telling you, that man
loves
to iron. Says it relaxes him. Every Sunday night, he pulls out the ironing board and irons while we watch television.”
    A vision of Wendell standing at the ironing board in boxer shorts flashes through my mind. I start screeching and scratching my underarms like a goofy monkey, then I stand and tip my imaginary hat. “Smart fellow, that Wendell Whetstone. Real smart fellow,” I say, then go back to my monkey impersonation. Gloria Jean cackles, then yanks me by the arm and pulls me out of the Creamery into the parking lot, where we fall all over each other laughing our butts off. I have to cross my legs to keep from peeing on myself.
    On the drive home, I try to talk her into spending the night, but she and Wendell have to take Itty-Bitty, his ancient, ratty little dog, to the veterinarian. Their marriage sounds boring as two graves.

4 per·snick·e·ty
    1: fussy about small details
    2: requiring great precision
    3: FASTIDIOUS
    “Desi, will you please spell
buccinator?”
Mrs. Helms, the Giver of Words, says into the microphone.
    Desi sighs and clenches his fists. “May I have the definition, please?”
    “A thin, flat muscle that forms the wall of the cheek, assisting in chewing and in blowing wind instruments,” she says.
    Desi grits his teeth, flexing his buccinators, the twangy odor of fear coming through his pores. It’s Friday afternoon, the first week of October. Out of twenty contestants, only Andrea, Desi, and I remain in the Red Clover Junior High Spelling Bee. And I’m sweating like a piglet. Every time I fidget, my chair squeaks. There’s a crowd of about a hundred seated on the bleachers. Mainly teachers, honor-roll students, and parents of the spellers.
    “Mr. Sistare—will you please spell the word?” Madame Blah-blah-blah’s acting all stoical, sitting at the table withthe principal, but she’s wearing a low-cut gray silk shirt that shows off her wrinkly cleavage. My sense of humor irritates the pee out of her.
    “Yes ma’am.” Desi pronounces the word, then spells
b-u-c-k-i-n-a-t-o-r
.
    “I’m sorry, Desi, that is incorrect,” Mrs. Helms says in her flat voice. At least we don’t have to hear an obnoxious bell ring like we do at the county spelling bee.
    Desi walks over, climbs the bleachers, and sits beside Mrs. Harrison.
    “Now, will our final two contestants please stand for the final round?” Mrs. Helms says. We both stand up. “Andrea, will you please spell
buccinator?”
    Andrea smoothes out her red plaid skirt, pronounces the word, and spells
b-u-c-c-i-n-a-t-o-r
.
    “That is correct, Andrea.”
    “Karlene, will you please spell
contumacious?”
    I know the definition, but want to stall. My eyes wander over to Daddy. He’s sitting on the bottom row of the bleachers with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, as if he’s watching a basketball game. He looks sober and handsome in his clean work clothes. “May I hear the definition, please?”
    “Contumacious means stubbornly disobedient or rebellious.”
    In a clear voice, I say the word, then spell
c-o-n-t-u-m-a-c-i-o-u-s
.
    “That is correct. Now, Andrea, will you please spell
hierarchy?”
Mrs. Helms pronounces it
high-ar-ky
.
    Andrea makes a wimpy sound like a balloon going flat. “Will you say the word again, please?”
    Mrs. Helms mispronounces it again. My heart skips a few beats for Andrea.
    Andrea clears her throat. “May I have a definition, please?”
    “It’s an organization whose members are arranged in ranks according to power and seniority.”
    Andrea mispronounces it, then spells
h-i-g-h-a-r-c-h-y
.
    “I’m sorry, Andrea, that’s incorrect.”
    Andrea gives me a weak smile and walks away, pulling her kneesocks up along the way. I can’t believe she didn’t know that word. The Giver of Words ought to be able to pronounce the words, or else give up the job.
    “Karlene, will …”
    Mrs. Helms is talking, but I’m not paying attention. I breathe deeply, trying