Alice in Blunderland

Chapter 1:Being Perfect Lester lies to me sometimes, only he says it's just teasing. Then I go and believe him.We were talking about names once, and he said he'd let me in on a secret if I didn't tell Dad. He said that we weren't Scotch-Irish at all, that our grandparents had escaped from Russia, but we didn't want anyone to know it.My real name, he said, wasn't Alice Kathleen McKinley; it was Alicia Katerina de Balencia Blunderbuss Makinoli."Honest?" I said."Cross my heart," said Lester."Write it down," I told him. So Lester wrote it down for me.I whispered my real name over and over so I could remember it. That night at the dinner table I watched my dad eat his green beans and wondered what other secrets he was keeping from me."What's Dad's real name then?" I asked Lester later."Hmm," said Lester. "That's a hard one to remember. It's Ivan Ilvonovich Rostropovich.""I thought you said our last name was Makinoli.""Right! Ivan Ilvonovich Rostropovich Makinoli.""Then what'syourreal name?" I asked."Dmitri Rachmaninoff Schvaglio Deuteronomy Makinoli," said Lester.I studied my brother. "Honest?" I asked."Would I lie to you?" said Lester."Honesthonest?""Cross my heart," said Lester. "But it's a secret, and Dad's sort of touchy about it. He'll get around to telling you sometime."The next day at school I couldn't help myself. Instead of writing Alice McKinley at the top of my fourth-grade spelling paper, I wrote Alicia Katerina de Balencia Blunderbuss Makinoli.When we traded papers with the person beside us for checking, my friend Rosalind said, "What's this?" and pointed to the name at the top.I thumped my chest. "Me," I said. "I just found out."Rosalind looked at the name again. "Are you sure that last name isn't supposed to be Macaroni?""No," I said. "It's not."Rosalind got up and went to the dictionary. When she came back, she said, "Do you know what a blunderbuss is?""No," I said."A person who goofs up," said Rosalind."Lester!" I yelled when I walked in the house that afternoon. My brother is about seven and a half years older than me, and he gets home from high school before grade school even lets out. "You just stuck 'Blunderbuss' in there. That's not part of my real name at all!""Imagine that!" said Lester."I'll bet you made that whole thing up," I said."How'd you guess?" said Lester.I don't know why Lester couldn't have been a girl. Why couldn't I have had an older sister instead, one who would show me how to braid my hair and sew on a button and make fudge and cut my toenails?My mother died when I was in kindergarten, and Lester and I live in Takoma Park, Maryland, with our dad, Ben McKinley. We moved here last year from Chicago. So instead of a big sister who could braid my hair, I've got a brother who plays the drums in a band called the Naked Nomads and tells me lies. I've got a cat, though, named Oatmeal, and that's our family -- me and Dad and Lester and Oatmeal.The fact is -- and that's why Lester made me angry, I guess -- I really am a blunderbuss. Fourth grade is definitely the worst. I have already made more embarrassing mistakes in the fourth grade than in all the other grades put together.Last Sunday, Dad took me to the mall and I had to go to the restroom. After I flushed, I tried to open the door of my stall, but I couldn't get it unlocked. I pushed and pulled, but the metal bar wouldn't slide. My father was waiting outside, but I would be stuck in there forever, I thought! They would have to feed me through the space under the door! I was too embarrassed to yell. Too embarrassed to pound on the door.I could hear three women talking at the sink, and I decided I would wait until they had gone. Then I would crawl out under the door. I heard the women go out. I heard their voices fade away. Then I got down beside the toilet and crawled out underneath the door.Naylor, Phyllis Reynolds is the author of 'Alice in Blunderland', published 2003 under ISBN 9780689843976 and ISBN 0689843976.