‘What was it, Miss?’
‘Was it a magpie, Miss? They’re horrible!’
‘Amagpie?’ For a split second, Robyn wanted to laugh, but instead she moved back against her desk, every aspect of her quivering with fear. ‘Oh, kids, did no one else see it? It had the biggest bulbous nose…’
‘What’sbulbous, Miss?’
OK, they were only Year 7, some of them with reading ages several years below where they should be; she needed to come down to their level somewhat.
‘It was green, scaly…’
‘An alligator, Miss?’
Up here at the third-floor window? Robyn tried again, thinking on her feet.
‘Honestly, it was dark green, its hexagonal head spiked with thorns and scales, three of its five eyes just staring at me with such malevolence…’
‘Aw, you’re having us on, Miss. You’re telling great porkies.’
‘Of course I am. That’s what a good storyteller does – has the reader on.’
‘You weren’t actuallyreading, Miss Allen,’ Maddie, ever the pedant, put in pointedly.
‘But I am now. Listen.’ Robyn reached for her much-thumbed copy ofLord of the Ringsand began reading from it.
Putting the text down, she looked at the class and said, ‘So that’s a description of Shelob in her lair.’
‘What’s a lair, Miss?’ Jackson Thompson asked, his eyes wide.
‘Someone who tells fibs, like Riley,’ Savannah Quinn put in knowingly.
‘A lair is a den. Can you imagine a horrible dark cave, a dungeon? What your senses would come across? The sight, the sound,the smell…’
‘Can’t be anything worse than Riley’s trumps, Miss.’ Leon Barker grinned.
‘Ugh! Revolting, disgusting!’ Maddie turned to shoot the boy a look of distaste.
‘Great adjectives, Maddie,’ Robyn encouraged. ‘Carry on.’
‘…sour…’
‘…putrid…’ Robyn added.
‘…noxious…’
‘…super describing words,’ Robyn praised. ‘How aboutrancid?’ She quickly wrote the words on the smartboard before turning back to the class with another extract. ‘This describes The Shrike fromThe Hyperion Cantosby a man called Dan Simmons.’ Robyn started to read.
‘Oh, that’s really good,’ Felix Billington enthused, once she’d put the book down. ‘Can we write some?’
‘That’s the plan.’ Robyn nodded. ‘OK, you can work singly or in pairs. Jotters out. You’ll need the thesauruses. And remember, think about your senses – what did it feel like, look like, smell like, sound like?’
‘Taste like!’ Aria asked, showing off she knew the last of the five senses.
‘It’s notThe Great British Bake Off, Aria,’ Mila on her left said impatiently. ‘We’re not going to be having a slice of it like wotsername does. She must get really full and not want her tea trying all that cake. Come on, think. What are we going to call this beast?’
Forty-five minutes later and hands were up, wanting to showcase their efforts.
‘OK, Mila, off you go.’ Robyn smiled.
