“Will Alonso and I get neat hair sculptures like that, then?” asked Lilia eagerly.

“You bet,” said Miss Dismont.

“I could do Tatiana’s hair in a roller skate,” cried Charlene. “To go along with her song! I can do anything!”

So can I, thought Smashie. Singing-wise. But the teachers won’t let me. Maybe she could talk to Ms. Early privately, after the meeting.

Tatiana squirmed with happy anticipation. “Ms. Early, can Charlene do roller-skate hair on me right now?”

“She certainly can,” said Ms. Early with a smile in Miss Dismont’s direction.

Rubbing her hands with the purple goop, Charlene got to work. And now Tatiana was the one who was transformed. Where there had once been a tumble of dark curls there was now a perfect roller skate of hair sitting atop Tatiana’s head.

“Wow!”

“Amazing!”

“Ms. Early,” asked John desperately, “what if we just can’t do it? I just can’t stand performing in public!”

Indeed, faint cries of unwilling children were heard here and there throughout the meeting area. But even more were looking at Smashie’s and Tatiana’s heads, and Smashie knew they were on the edge of changing their minds. And she was right. Suddenly, lots of kids had ideas for acts. Several children volunteered to be backup dancers for the performers. Siggie, changing his mind perhaps the most abruptly of all, offered to do an act wherein he alphabetized some items very quickly.

“Can you do a cool hair sculpture to match that?” Siggie asked Charlene.

“You bet!” said Charlene. “I could make your hair into an ABC!”

“Yes!” said Tatiana. “And his backup singers could sing the alphabet in English and Spanish!”

“And I could alphabetize the objects in both languages!” cried Siggie.

“Terrific!” said Miss Dismont, scribbling madly on a piece of chart paper.

“This is not terrific!” It was John, and his face was stormy. “I feel blackmailed! I want cool hair, but I have to perform to get it?”

And here’s me not even going to get to belt out a single note, thought Smashie sadly.

But before either teacher could respond, Charlene held up her hand.

“It’s not just the teachers that are setting a limit, John.”

“What do you mean?”

“The ingredients that my mom uses to make this stuff are really expensive. She told me last night that she only has enough left to make about two more jars. Each jar has enough goop for about fifteen heads. Both our classes have nineteen students in them. With the two jars she can make, plus this one I have here, there is just about enough to do everyone’s hair for the musicale. And there’s a little extra for me to practice with — or in case I mess up.”

“Why doesn’t your mom just buy more ingredients?” asked Siggie.

“Because” — Charlene bit her lip — “because it’s hard starting your own business. We can’t afford to buy more ingredients right now.”

“Oh,” said Smashie. “That makes sense.”

Jacinda gave Charlene’s shoulders a side hug.

“I’ll speak a piece,” Dontel volunteered. “There’s a passage I love from one of my favorite astronomy books.”

Smashie looked at him, betrayed. He gave her a meaningful look back. “Better to volunteer now,” he whispered to her, “before they find out what we can really do.”

And Smashie, shocked, subsided. For she knew Dontel was right. She hadn’t even thought about their secret talent, and by that unfortunately she didn’t mean investigating. Even if she wasn’t allowed to sing, anything was better than being forced to do their secret talent. Smashie had better think fast if they were going to come up with a surefire way to avoid that. Dontel looked at her and they nodded once, together. They were agreed.