There was an English composition due tomorrow and Lucy was worried.
Normally, she would not be. She liked English. But this time she wasn't sure what to write about. Here is what it said: Composition# 1: Write about an interesting or unusual person that you know. Use clear adjectives and give examples. Do NOT write about movie stars unless you know them personally.
Of course, the difficulty wasn't in knowing interesting or unusual people. The difficulty was that they were all Narnian and she couldn't write about them without mentioning magic or flying or daring adventures that were hardly possible in England. A year ago, she would have written about them anyway. But over the last year, she had received three papers back with red marks all over them, telling her that she had a fine imagination but needed to stick to the truth. The truth! And each time she had complained to Susan, Susan had said, I told you and had begged her not to write about Narnia anymore.
Yesterday she had thought of a solution. She had raised her hand in class and when Mrs. Wilkins had called on her, she had said, "May I write a poem instead?"
Poetry was the only form of writing in which one could write the truth and people would not doubt it because they didn't take it literally. If she wrote about a friend who had a fish's tail and a human body, people would see it as a metaphor, not as a sign that she was batty.
But Mrs. Wilkins had answered, "You may add a poem to the composition if you wish. I still require a composition."
"How many words must it be?" Priscilla Bennett had asked.
Mrs. Wilkins had sighed. "Oh, 300 to 400 words."
400 words. Lucy had written laws and proclamations and for her, 400 words was nothing. But it had to be a good nothing.
So now Lucy decided to make a list of all the people she could write about but instead found that she was making a list of all the people she could not write about.
Tumnus, Oreius, Giant Wimbleweather, Aravis, Cor, Corin, Caspian, Trufflehunter, Trumpkin, Reepicheep, Coriakin, Ramandu…There just wasn't anybody as interesting or as unusual here! Although Peter, Susan, Edmund and Eustace were certainly interesting and unusual, it was Narnia that had made them so. Mum and dad were wonderful. But were they interesting or unusual? Guiltily, Lucy had to admit that they weren't. Who was Marjorie writing about? Probably about Mrs. Wilkins. Lucy had never seen Marjorie like a teacher so much. She had never seen Marjorie like a teacher at all! Perhaps, talking to Marjorie would help her think of a person. This year, Marjorie was just down the hall.
Lucy knocked on Marjorie's door and waited. She knocked again, louder this time.
Marjorie opened the door. "Hello," she said quietly. "Don't knock so loudly. Rose is asleep." Rose was one of the girls Marjorie shared a room with.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Lucy gasped. "Do we have to whisper?"
"Well, she told me that as long as my talking was quieter than her snoring, it didn't bother her."
They giggled.
"I've been trying to write that composition for English," Lucy said. "I'm not really getting anywhere. Have you written yours?"
"No," Marjorie said, quickly. "I haven't. Uh…Mrs. Wilkins said she would help me so I actually have to be going…soon." With these words she stood in front of her desk, blocking it from Lucy's view.
"Really?" Lucy asked, frowning. Marjorie was acting strange. "Well, who are you writing about?"
"Who? Um…Who am I writing about? I don't…I don't know yet…You know, we really should go over to your room before Rose wakes up."
"Why do you keep blocking your desk?" Lucy asked.
Marjorie paled. "I'm not," she said, quickly grabbing a piece of paper filled with writing from her desk and crumpling it in her fist.
And suddenly Lucy understood.
"You're writing about me."
Marjorie shook her head. "No!" she said, clutching the paper.
"Then let me see it!"
"No!" Marjorie hugged the paper to herself.
"Why not?" Lucy's voice had grown cold and suspicious. Why was Marjorie so desperate to keep her from seeing the paper? Had Marjorie written something horrible about her? Unusual had many meanings. She pictured Marjorie saying to Anne Featherstone, not a bad little kid but so unusual!
"Aw, Marjorie, let her see it. Then maybe she'll correct your mistakes and I won't have to," said a sleepy voice.
"Rose!" Marjorie gasped and turned in Rose's direction. And Lucy reached over and grabbed the crumpled piece of paper. She unfolded it. Her name was written across the top.
Marjorie burst into tears. "I knew it!" she wailed. "I knew I'd ruin everything!"
Suddenly, Lucy felt ashamed. No matter what Marjorie had written, it didn't give her a reason to act beastly! "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "Here, take it back."
"Read it," Marjorie said, still crying. "You might as well."
So Lucy read.
An Interesting and Unusual Person I Know: Lucy, My Friend
The most interesting and unusual person I know is my best friend Lucy. She is a really kind person. There arent that many people in the world who are kind but Lucy is diferent. She is kind. When I cry, some times she also starts crying because she feels sorry for me. And she always wants to help. Like one time, she saved a kitten from the rain and brouhgt it inside. That was kind and she wasnt even scared to get in trouble because she is brave. Not like me. She wasnt scared to take swiming lessons. That is brave. And she helped me to not be afraid iether because she told me she woud save me if I ever started to drown. Of course I know she cant really save me because I'm too hevy. But its still brave of her to say that. And Lucy tells stories. I dont mean lies Lucy never lies not even to get out of truble. She just tells stories. Theyre really interesting. I try to belive them. I wish I coud belive them.
Some times Lucy gets mad at me. And then I feel like I should really make up because I hate fihgting with her. It makes me feel like I have nobody in the hole world left because shes my only real friend. Theres also you, but you dont really count because youre a teacher (I hope you wont be mad at me for saying that). I tell Lucy Im sorry and some times she forgives me rihgt away.
I know youre going to pick the best composishion and have the writer read it out loud to every body in the school. Couldnt you please pick me? I know my composishion is not the best because my spelling and gramar aren't so great but I really want to read this to the hole school. Because if I do, Lucy will know that I want to tell every body that shes my friend and that I will never ever say horid things about her again.
And that is why Lucy is interesting and unusual.
"Your cheeks are really red," Rose said to Lucy with a yawn. "You should look in the mirror."
"Oh, Marjorie," said Lucy, still staring at the paper. "I'm not really as wonderful as all that."
"Oh, yes you are," Marjorie said, tearfully.
"I just flew at you and stole your paper and made you cry."
"I know," Marjorie said, smiling through her tears.
"It's...lovely, Marjorie. But why didn't you want me to read it?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise," sniffed Marjorie. "I wanted you to hear me go up on the stage and read it to everybody. And then you wouldn't hear the mistakes."
Lucy looked at Marjorie in amazement. Had Marjorie come to Lucy with the composition and asked her to read it, Lucy wouldn't have been surprised to read about her virtues. She might might have even thought that Marjorie was 'sucking up.' It would have been awful but that's what she would have thought. Trust wasn't easily regained. But Marjorie wanted to read it to everybody. She wanted to read it in front of Anne Featherstone and Agatha Samuels and...everybody! And she wasn't afraid of what they would think! She cared about their friendship more.
"There's only one real mistake in it," Lucy said. "Where you write 'Not like me.' You are brave, Marjorie. Very brave."
"Can you two finish giving each other compliments already?" Rose sighed. "I'd like to sleep."
"Come on," Lucy said. When they closed the door and started walking down the hall, Lucy said, "Marjorie, let's have a talk. A lovely, long talk."
Marjorie nodded. "Yes, let's," she said.
And they did.