“Okay. Fine. Good luck, Thelma,” I grouched.
New Thelma said “Good luck” back to me. Then she tried to shake my hand some more. But I quick pulled it away.
“Don't touch the merchandise,” I said.
After that, Mrs. took my arm and we went back to my team.
And guess what?
Just then, I heard my grampa Miller call my name!
I looked up. He and my grandma were coming across the playground with Mother and Daddy!
I runned to them speedy fast.
“Look, people! Look! Look! I am Captain Field Day! See my cape? I am captain of this whole entire production!”
Grampa Miller smiled real proud. Then he picked me up in the air. And he flew me around and around. Just like a real superhero!
Pretty soon, I heard Mrs. blow her whistle.
Then Grampa Miller put me down. And I hurried back to my team.
’Cause it was Captain Field Day to the rescue!
“CAPTAIN FIELD DAY TO THE RESCUE! CAPTAIN FIELD DAY TO THE RESCUE!” I shouted my loudest.
Then I zoomed and zoomed all over the place. My cape flied in the air behind me.
Those things are marvelous, I tell you!
I ran in and out of all the children.
Then, all of a sudden, Mrs. grabbed the back of my cape. And she held it very tight.
I looked back at that woman.
“Yeah, only here's the problem. I can't fly to the rescue when my cape is crumpled,” I said.
“Junie B., please” said Mrs. “You need to settle down. No one needs rescuing. I blew the whistle so we can start the first race.”
Just then, the Room Eight teacher blew her whistle, too.
“The first event between Room Eight and Room Nine is going to be a team relay race,” she said. “Since both of our classes have eighteen children today, everyone will get to run.”
After that, Mrs. made a line in the grass where the race would start. Then she told us the rules.
“Each team will line up behind this white line,” she said. “The first person in line will run down to the fence, come back, and tag the next runner. The race keeps going on and on like that until everyone in the line has run. Does everybody understand?”
I jumped way high in the air.
“I do!” I shouted. “I understand perfectly perfect! ’Cause I am Captain Field Day, of course!”
After that, I hurried to my bestest friend named Grace.
“You go first, Grace,” I said. “You are the fastest runner in kindergarten. And so you have to be at the front of the line.”
I grabbed that Grace's hand. And I pulled her to the front.
Only too bad for us. Because Charlotte was already standing there.
“No cuts!” she said. “I was here first!”
I crossed my arms at that girl.
“Yes, I know that, Charlotte,” I said. “But I am Captain Field Day. And Captain Field Day says that speedy Grace needs to go first. So move it, missy.”
Charlotte stamped her angry foot.
“No! I was here first, I told you!” she said real snappish.
Just then, Grace smiled at Charlotte very nice. And she whispered a secret in her ear.
And then, what do you know? Charlotte backed right up! And she let Grace go first!
“Wowie wow wow! How did you do that, Grace?” I asked. “What did you say?”
That Grace did a shrug. “I just said the word please.”
I tapped on my chin. “Please, huh? I'll have to remember that one,” I said.
Pretty soon, Mrs. blew her whistle for us to line up.
“Is everyone ready?” she asked.
“Yes!” we hollered back.
Then Mrs. shouted in her loudest voice. “ON YOUR MARK….
“GET SET….
“GO!”
Then—boom!—fast as a rocket, Grace started to run!
“GO, GRACE! GO! GO! GO!” shouted Room Nine.
Grace zoomed to the fence and back again.
She tagged Charlotte on her hand.
“GO, CHARLOTTE! GO! GO! GO!” shouted Room Nine. “WE'RE WINNING! WE'RE WINNING! WE'RE WINNING!”
After that, Charlotte tagged a girl named Lynnie. And Lynnie tagged Jamal Hall. And Jamal Hall tagged a boy named Ham. And Ham tagged Paulie Allen Puffer.
Then all of Room Nine kept on tagging each other … until finally, there were just three more runners to go!
Their names were Ricardo, and Junie B. Jones, and Crybaby William.
Ricardo made noises like a race car. “Varoooom, varoooom, varoooom,” he said.
Then, all of a sudden, he got tagged. And he took off running!
Me and William watched him go.
“Ricardo runs fast for a boy in cowboy boots,” I said kind of proud.
Crybaby William pulled on my cape real urgent. He quick whispered a secret in my ear.
“I'm not good at this, Junie B.,” he said very nervous. “I'm not a fast runner.”
I patted his slowpoke little head.
“Do not worry, little William. I am Captain Field Day, remember? I will save the day,” I said. “I will run so fast, you will even be able to walk, probably.”
Just then, Ricardo came running back.
“Here I go, William! Here I go saving the day! Watch me!” I shouted.
Ricardo tagged my hand.
I took off as fast as a rabbit!
Then I kept on getting faster and faster and faster!
I turned around at the fence. And I started running back.
Only all of a sudden, a very terrible thing happened!
And it's called OH NO! MY SHOE FLIED RIGHT OFF MY FOOT!
It went way high in the air.
I runned after it speedy quick.
Room Nine shouted and shouted at me to stop.
“YEAH, ONLY YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO WORRY, PEOPLE!” I hollered. “IT WON'T TAKE ME VERY LONG TO PUT THIS BACK ON! ’CAUSE GOOD NEWS …”
I picked it up and waved it all around.
“VELCRO!”
After that, I put it back on in a jiffy. And I zoomed right back to William.
I tapped him on his hand.
Only that boy just kept on standing there.
“Go, William! Go! Go!” I shouted.
But William shook his head no. And he pointed at Room Eight.
They were jumping up and down and dancing all around.
’Cause guess what?
They already won the race.
Room Nine was not a good sport to me.
They kept saying it was my fault we lost the race.
I stamped my foot at those people.
“No, it is not my fault!” I said back. “My shoe flied off. And so what am I supposed to do? Run in my sock foot?”
Meanie Jim got close to my face.
“Yes, you looney bird!” he yelled. “That's exactly what you were supposed to do! You were supposed to run in your sock foot!”
I thought very hard about that.
“Well, well. What do you know?” I said kind of quiet. “It looks like Captain Field Day has learned a little something here.”
Room Nine did a groan.
I backed away from them real careful. Or else they might tackle me, possibly.
I backed all the way to Mrs.
“They're mad at me,” I said. “They're mad because I lost the race.”
Mrs. ruffled my hair.
“It's not your fault, Junie B.,” she said. “Your shoe came off by accident. And besides, Field Day is not about who wins or loses. Field Day is about having fun.”
I hanged down my head.
“Yeah, only what's so fun about losing? That's what I would like to know,” I said.
Just then, Mrs. made a ’nouncement.
“Boys and girls, I don't want to hear one more word about winners and losers, okay? Field Day is a day to run around in the fresh air and enjoy the sunshine. We came out here to have fun and get som
e exercise. And we're not going to care one little bit about who wins or who loses.”
As soon as Mrs. walked away, New Thelma skipped up next to me.
“Room Eight is winning,” she said real squealy. “Room Eight is beating Room Nine one to nothing.”
I made a mad face at her.
“Yeah, only didn't you hear my teacher, Thelma?” I said. “Room Nine doesn't even care who wins and loses. Room Nine just came out here to run in the air. So ha ha on you.”
“Yeah,” said Ricardo.
“Yeah,” said Jamal Hall.
“Yeah,” said Lynnie.
Then all of those people gave me a high five. ’Cause I made a good point, apparently.
Pretty soon, the Room Eight teacher blew her whistle again.
“The next event will be the softball throw,” she said. “Unlike the relay race, this contest is not going to be a team event. The softball throw is for anyone who wants to join in. If you'd like to see how far you can throw the ball, please form a line behind me.”
Paulie Allen Puffer was the first one in line.
“I'm a good thrower,” he said. “I'm probably the best thrower in Room Nine, in fact.”
Lynnie lined up next. “I'm a good thrower, too,” she said.
“Me too,” said Jamal Hall.
Just then, Crybaby William pulled on my cape. ’Cause he wanted to whisper again, that's why.
“I'm not good at this event, either,” he said real quiet. “I don't have to do it, right, Captain? I don't have to throw the ball.”
I put my arm around his shoulder.
“No, you don't,” I said. “You don't have to worry about this at all, William. Paulie Allen Puffer is going to win this thing in a breeze for us.”
Just then, a boy from Room Eight jumped in line.
New Thelma did a loud squeal.
“Ooooh! It's Strong Frankie! Strong Frankie is the strongest boy in kindergarten!” she said very thrilled.
All of us looked at him.
Strong Frankie made a big arm muscle. It was largish and roundish.
New Thelma cheered and cheered.
“Go, Strong Frankie! Go, Strong Frankie! Go, Strong Frankie!” she hollered.
I tapped on her.
“You are getting on my nerves, madam,” I said.
New Thelma giggled in my face.
That girl is a nitwit, I tell you.
Just then, Mrs. clapped her hands together. “Okay, everyone! We're ready to begin! The first person to throw the softball will be Paulie Allen Puffer from Room Nine! We only have time to give everyone one try. So do your best, okay?”
Paulie Allen Puffer did a big grin.
“I only need one try,” he said. “I have been throwing softballs my whole life.”
After that, he picked up the ball from the ground. And he winded up with all his might.
Then—bam!—he threw the ball as hard as he could!
Only too bad for Room Nine. Because he didn't actually aim that good. And the ball went straight down into the playground.
It made a round hole in the dirt.
Room Nine stared and stared at that thing.
“Bummer,” I said.
“Bummer,” said Meanie Jim.
“Bummer,” said Charlotte.
Paulie Allen Puffer jumped up and down real upset.
“I need another try! I need another try! Please, Teacher! Please! Please!” he said.
But Mrs. gave him a pat on the back. And she moved him out of line.
I walked over to my bestest friend named Grace.
“He blew it,” I said very disappointed. “Paulie Allen Puffer blew it for our team.”
“Yes,” said that Grace. “Just like when you blew the relay race, Junie B.”
I made squinty eyes at that girl.
“Thank you, Grace. Thank you for reminding me,” I said.
“You're welcome,” she said back.
That Grace does not understand sarcastic, apparently.
After that, lots of other boys and girls in our class threw the softball, too.
Roger threw the farthest in Room Nine. The ball went all the way to the fence.
Room Nine shouted his name real thrilled.
“ROGER! ROGER! ROGER!”
The next person to throw was Strong Frankie.
He picked up a softball from the basket. Then he rolled and rolled it all around in his hands. And he threw that thing with all his muscles.
I did a gasp.
’Cause the ball flied all the way over the fence! And we never even saw it again!
Room Eight screamed and shouted and skipped and danced. Also, they hopped and jumped and twirled.
Room Nine slumped our shoulders very depressed.
’Cause guess why?
Losing does not feel joyful.
The skipping race came next.
Room Nine chose our fastest skippers.
Their names were Charlotte, Jamal Hall, that Grace, Lynnie, and Meanie Jim.
Those people can skip like lightning, I tell you!
I made up a cheer for them. Its name was GO, SKIPPERS. Here are the words to it:
GO, SKIPPERS! GO, SKIPPERS!
GO, SKIPPERS! GO, SKIPPERS!
I cheered real loud in front of Room Eight. ’Cause I really thought we would win this one.
Only what do you know?
We didn't.
Some of our skippers cried a little bit.
“We got skunked,” said Lynnie very sniffling.
“Skunked means our score is a goose egg,” said Jamal Hall.
“A goose egg is a big, fat zero,” said that Grace.
“A big, fat zero is when you're stinking up the place,” said Meanie Jim very glum.
Mrs. did not like that kind of talk.
“Hey, hey, hey! That's enough of that,” she said. “I'm very proud of all of you. You did your best and that's all anyone can ask. Right, Junie B.?”
“Yes,” I said. “Plus also, a win would be nice.”
I sat down. Mrs. looked at me a real long time.
“The tug-of-war is the next event,” she said finally. “How about another cheer from our team captain to get us charged up?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I already did a cheer for the skipping team. And look where that got us.”
Mrs. made squinty eyes at me.
“Try,” she said.
I stood up.
“Rah,” I said.
“Thank you,” said Mrs.
I sat back down.
All of us lined up for the tug-of-war.
Room Eight held on to one side of a rope. And Room Nine held on to the other side.
Mrs. tied a bow right in the middle of it. Then she drew a line on the ground in front of each team.
“Okay, people,” she said. “Whichever team pulls the bow over their own line is the winner. Is everyone ready?”
“YES! YES! YES!” shouted Room Eight.
Room Nine just looked at her.
William was behind me.
“I'm not that good at the tug-of-war, Junie B.,” he whispered. “I never even did the tug-of-war before.”
“Join the club, bud,” I grumped.
After that, the Room Eight teacher blew her whistle. And both our teams started to pull.
Room Nine pulled and pulled with all our strength.
“People! People! We're doing it! We're doing it!” I shouted very shocked.
We pulled some more.
Then, all of a sudden, we heard a loud holler.
It was Strong Frankie.
He yanked the rope as hard as he could.
Then Lynnie and Ricardo fell down in the grass. And the bow went over the line.
Room Eight went crazy and happy. They were loud and laughing.
Room Nine walked to the water fountain very sad.
Then we sat down next to the building.
And we didn't talk for a real long time.
Finally, Mrs.
came and got us.
“Come on, boys and girls. There's just one more event to go,” she said.
She took us to the pull-up bar.
The Room Eight teacher smiled real big.
“All right, everybody. It's time for the pull-up contest,” she said.
Paulie Allen Puffer stared at her.
“Big whoop,” he said.
Then the Room Eight teacher tattled on him. And Paulie Allen Puffer had to sit by himself for a time-out.
Mrs. was not happy with us.
“Okay, children. I understand that you're not in a good mood. But one of the things we learn in Field Day is to never give up. Room Nine is not a bunch of quitters. Are we, Junie B.?”
I looked at Room Nine's faces.
“Pretty much,” I said.
Mrs. threw her hands in the air. “Okay, that's it,” she said. “I'm not going to take no for an answer. There must be someone in Room Nine who has the spirit to keep trying. Which one of you children has the courage not to give up? Huh? How about you, Jamal? Will you try to do a pull-up for the team?” she asked.
Jamal Hall pulled his shirt up over his face so no one could see him.
“I believe that's a no,” I said.
Mrs. looked around some more.
“Grace?” she said. “How about you? Will you try to do a pull-up for us?”
“No, I cant” she said. “I really, really can't. I'm only strong in my feet.”
“I'm not!” yelled a loud voice. “I'm strong all over my whole body!”
Room Nine turned around.
It was Strong Frankie again.
He made another arm muscle at us.
I stamped my foot at that guy.
“Stop doing that, Frankie!” I hollered. “Stop tooting your own horn! ’Cause that is not even polite! And anyway, Room Nine has strong people, too! We have people who can do a jillion pull-ups, in fact! So there! Ha!”
Strong Frankie crossed his muscle arms.
“Like who?” he asked.
I put my hands on my hips.
“Like lots of people, that's who! Like, um, well, like … like …”
Just then, a boy from Room Nine raised his hand a teeny bit.
“Like me,” he said.
Then he walked right up to the pull-up bar. And he stood there all by himself.
I did a gasp.
Then the other children did gasps, too.
’Cause what do you know …
It was William.