Construction brings lots of noise and confusion and dirt. Huge trucks sometimes block the driveway when parents are dropping their kids off at school. Big wooden planks cover some of the walkways that have been dug up. A large pile of dirt sits in front of the school, and on rainy days everything is covered with brown, yucky mud that gets tracked into the halls and classrooms.

Fairly disgusting.

Today they are installing new plumbing. Because of this, some of the toilets do not flush.

Really disgusting.

Men and women with dirty yellow hard hats sometimes walk down the halls with us. They are supposed to stay on the side where the new area is being built, but sometimes they need to use the phones or the bathrooms. Good luck on that one!

Sometimes they get their lunch from our cafeteria. Why would anybody want to eat our cafeteria food on purpose? I don’t get it.

We are not allowed to go anywhere near the construction zone. Barriers and fences have been set up. We can’t even get close. But we can watch the progress from a distance, especially when we are outside for recess.

Jasmine, Princess, Holly, Carmelita, and I are sitting on a bench, watching the new building in progress. Lots of other kids have their noses close to the fence that separates the kids from the builders.

“It looks like a giant skeleton,” I tell Jasmine. “The boards are skinny like bones, and the nails connect them all together like joints.”

“It smells good,” Jasmine says as she sniffs the air. “I like the smell of sawdust. It smells so new.”

“When is all this supposed to be finished?” Holly asks as we watch a crane move stuff from a pile to a truck.

“My father says the new wing of the building should be ready by the time school starts next fall,” Jasmine replies. “He’s on the building committee, and he says they are in a hurry to get it done.”

“Next fall? I thought it would be ready in time for our musical,” Holly says.

“Not a chance. They are going to work all through summer vacation,” Princess comments.

We are interrupted by the loud zing of an electric saw.

When it finally stops, Holly asks, “Why can’t the workers do this at night?”

“It’s dark! Duh!” Carmelita replies.

“I suppose they could use really bright lights,” Holly suggests.

“I think they’re working day and night,” Jasmine says.

“Mr. Wood really needs that music room,” I tell them. “Is it true we’re going to be able to have an orchestra?”

“Instruments are hard to learn. Singing is easy — all you have to do is open your mouth,” Jasmine says.

“Easy for you to say,” I reply with a giggle.

“We need to give Sassy a big horn!” Carmelita says.

I laugh with them. “If we do get to have an orchestra, and you could pick any instrument you wanted, which would you choose?”

Holly says, “The piano. Because that’s the instrument we dance to in ballet class.”

“Kinda hard to put it in your book bag!” I tell her. I bend over and pretend I’m walking with a piano on my back.

“I’d choose the harp,” Princess says. “I think it sounds like angel music.” That’s a good choice. Princess has long, flowing blond hair. It ripples down her back like a golden stream. I think she looks like one of those angels on decorations during the Christmas season.

“All those strings,” Carmelita says. “I bet your fingertips would get sore. Me, I’d pick something easy, like a drum. Just hit it with a stick and be done with it.”

We crack up.

Jasmine then says, “I’d choose a trumpet because it’s loud, and everyone would notice me.”

She pretends to toot a horn. Then Carmelita beats on her pretend drum, while Princess strums her imaginary harp, and Holly moves her fingers over invisible piano keys. They’ve got quite a band going.

“What about you, Sassy? What instrument would you choose?” Jasmine asks me when they stop.

I pause a moment, then I say very quietly, “I’d choose the piccolo.”

“What’s a piccolo?” Princess asks. “It sounds like something good to eat.”

“It’s a tiny flute, and it plays pretty music way up high. It sounds like birds in the morning in springtime when you do it right.”

“You sound like you know quite a bit about it,” Holly says.

“I do.” I finally decide to tell my friends what I’ve been up to. “I’ve been taking lessons since last year. Holly, just like you go to dance lessons, I go to a studio where I play the piccolo!”

“So this is the big secret?” Jasmine asks with her hands on her hips. “You could have told me, Sassy. I think it’s really cool.”

I give her a big smile of thanks. Then I tell everybody, “At first I was scared I wouldn’t be any good at it — like my singing. So I never said anything to anybody.”

“Not even your best friend?” Jasmine looks a little upset with me.

“I decided to wait and tell people if I ever got to be any good at it,” I try to explain.

“So are you better at the piccolo than you are at singing?” Princess asks.

“Much, much better,” I tell her.

“Prove it!” Jasmine says. Her voice says she’s still not happy with me.

“Okay. I’ll show you.” I reach down into my Sassy Sack and pull out the black leather case.

“Ooh,” they say with admiration in their voices.

“Only Sassy could find an instrument that’s small enough to fit into that purse of hers,” Carmelita says. The rest of the girls nod in agreement.

Slowly, I unlatch the case. Sitting in two parts is my shiny silver piccolo. It gleams in the sunlight. Tiny round silver keys line the surface. Each key, when pressed alone or with others, makes a different sound as I blow over the mouthpiece.

“It’s silver!” Princess says.

“And beautiful!” Holly exclaims.

“Well, it’s not made of real silver, but it’s shiny enough for me to pretend,” I say proudly.

I slip the two pieces together, place my fingers on the keys, purse my lips, and blow softly. A lovely, lilting melody comes out. I play a little song I learned a few months ago.

“Awesome!” Jasmine says. Her voice is warming up.

I keep on playing. Some of the other kids wander over to where we are.

Tandy, Travis, and Rusty look really surprised.

“What is that thing?” Travis asks. “It looks like a silver Popsicle!”

I ignore him and continue to play. I play trills and running notes. It sounds like rippling water.

I glance up and realize about twenty kids are around me, listening quietly and smiling. I finish the song, then stop. Then they clap and clap and clap. They cheer.

I can’t believe it. They like my music!

I guess it’s not a secret anymore.