Don't Tap-Dance on Your Teacher Read Online Free

follow Emma backstage.
    â€œRoscoe,” said Ms. Diz. “You can stay here, since you’re not going to be dancing.”
    â€œBut what if Emma gets nervous or something?” I asked.
    â€œAll right, then.” Ms. Diz waved for me to come along.
    Slowly I crutched my way up to the stage.
    Behind the giant red curtain, lots of kids were warming up for their acts.
    Emma tied on her tap shoes. She’dbrought mine along too.
    â€œThey were in your cubby,” she said. “I don’t know why I brought them. Guess I was hoping for a miracle cure.”
    She poked her head out from behind the curtain.
    When she pulled back, her eyes were scared.
    â€œThere’s too many people!” she whispered.
    I peeked out too.
    I saw Mrs. Herman and Ms. Diz and my class and Max’s class and the principal and Mr. Oshkosh.
    Mr. Oshkosh gave me a wave.
    Then he pointed to his leg.
    His LEFT leg.
    I yanked my head back in.
    â€œIt’s not so many people, really,” I said.“Just the whole school.”
    Sometimes I do not exactly have a way with words.
    The crowd got very quiet.
    I peeked out again.
    Mr. Goosegarden, the principal, was standing near the edge of the stage.
    â€œWe are here today,” he said, “to honor the career of our wonderful teacher, Mrs.
    Herman.”
    His voice got a little lower. “Let me remind you that it takes a lot of courage to step onstage in front of an audience. I want you to give these talented students the respect they deserve.”
    He went on for a while longer.
    Speeching is probably the main job of principals.
    At last the show got started.
    Emma and I watched from the side of the stage.
    We laughed when some kids in the pre-K class jumped on bubbles while music played.
    It was an unusual talent, for sure.
    But mostly we just watched without talking.
    We watched the baton twirler.
    And the girl who could stand on her head for two minutes.
    And the boy who said “Pick a card, any card” to Mrs. Herman, but then he couldn’t guess which one she’d picked until he got halfway through the deck.
    We watched. And we clapped.
    And we waited for it to be Emma’s turn.
    It was a long, quiet, guilty wait.

13
Twinkles and Clomps
    Finally it was time.
    The CD player came on with our “Mice and Elephants” music.
    The curtain opened.
    Emma swallowed. Then she tapped across the stage.
    I leaned on my crutches and crossed my fingers.
    The music was loud and echoey.
    Boy, that was a giant audience.
    From the stage, it looked like a monster with too many heads.
    When the tinkly mouse part of the music played, Emma made teensy tapping steps.She even smiled a little.

    When the elephant part of the music played, Emma just stood there. Waiting.
    Since I wasn’t there to stomp.
    To tell you the truth, it did look just a little bit silly.
    You could tell an elephant was supposed to be on the stage too.
    The elephant stomping part stopped. The tinkly music came back.
    And Emma started dancing her mouse part again.
    She was tapping her heart out.
    Being the very best mouse she could be.
    And I was hiding behind a curtain.
    Being a chicken.
    The elephant music came back.
    Emma stopped tapping.
    She wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, shelooked a little sad.
    I could hear kids whispering, and I thought about the big boys watching Emma dance all alone.
    Without an elephant in sight.
    I dropped my crutches.
    I kicked off my sneakers.
    I shoved on my tap shoes.
    And I tapped right onto that stage.
    Emma stared at me. Her mouth made an O shape.
    I think maybe she was in chalk.
    That’s when you can’t believe what your eyes are saying.
    â€œI’m cured!” I whispered. “It’s a miracle!”
    The elephant music played on.
    I clomped like a pro.
    The mouse music played.
    Emma twinkle-tapped like she’d been dancing forever.
    We tapped and clapped and twirled.
    I was so busy making noise with my feet, I forgot all