September 2020 Volume 48 Number 1 cricketmedia.com $6.95
the realm of imagination
the realm of imagination
September 2020 Volume 48 Number 1
SELF-PORTRAIT CRICKET STAFF
Lonnie Plecha Editor
COVER AND BORDER Anna Lender Art Director
Patrick Murray Designer
by Jaime Kim Carolyn Digby Conahan Staff Artist
“Autumn Journey” Deborah Vetter Senior Contributing Editor
acrylic paint and digital tools Julie Peterson Copyeditor
Emily Cambias Assistant Editor
Jaime Kim is a children’s book illustra- Stacey Lane Smith Assistant Editor
tor who was born and raised in South Adrienne Matzen Permissions Specialist
Korea before moving to the USA when
she was eighteen. CRICKET ADVISORY BOARD
Marianne Carus Founder and
She has illustrated many books for Editor-in-Chief from 1972–2012
young readers, including La La La: A Kieran Egan Professor of Education,
Story of Hope by Kate Dicamillo. She Simon Fraser University, Vancouver
works with gouache, watercolors, and Betsy Hearne Professor, University of
acrylics to create nostalgic and dream- Illinois, Champaign; Critic, Author
like illustrations, inspired by childhood Sybille Jagusch Children’s Literature Specialist
memories of her family, as well as
movies, art, and the outside world. Her Linda Sue Park Author
favorite things are the sun, the moon, Katherine Paterson Author
the sky, and stars—which is why they Barbara Scharioth Former Director of the
always creep into her artwork. International Youth Library in Munich, Germany
Anita Silvey Author, Critic
Is it time to renew? Sandra Stotsky Professor of Education Reform,
University of Arkansas, Fayetteville
shop.cricketmedia.com Roger Sutton Editor-in-Chief of
The Horn Book Magazine, Critic
1-800-821-0115 Ann Thwaite Author, Critic
Educational Press Association of America Academics Choice
Golden Lamp Award Smart Media Award
Distinguished Achievement Award
International Reading Association
Paul A. Witty Short Story Award
1988–1993, 1997, 2003, 2004, 2006,
2007, 2009, 2011–2015
National Magazine Award Society of Midland Authors Parents’ Choice
finalist in the category of Award for Excellence in Gold Award
Children’s Literature
General Excellence
September 2020, Volume 48, Number 1, © 2020, Cricket Media, Inc. All rights
reserved, including right of reproduction in whole or in part, in any form. View
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continued on page 47
5 The Kind of Girl Donuts Talk To by Amy Elisabeth Bokser
12 Can I Live Within Your Smile? by Hope Letson
13 The Traveler by Connie Martin
21 Cyber-Parents by Jo Mularczyk
26 The Goose and the Swan by Kate Selby
31 Things to See from a Bedroom Window by Beverly McLoughland
32 Chief Sunrise, John McGraw, and Me by Timothy Tocher
38 Cricket Readers Recommend
39 Mercury’s Sandals by Rose Edwards
2 Letterbox
4 Cricket Country by Carolyn Digby Conahan
25 Ugly Bird’s Crossbird Puzzle
45 Cricket League
46 Cricket and Ladybug by Carolyn Digby Conahan
48 Old Cricket Says
cover and border art © 2020 by Jaime Kim
THIS ONE’S MEWY YAY!
FOR YOU.
I’m going into eighth grade and I have been Dear Everybuggy, Dursleys, Draco Malfoy, and his father,
the new kid at school eight times. I basically think I have been wanting to write to you TOO TRUE—I AM Lucius Malfoy!
of myself as a nomad at this point. I’m 99 percent for some time, but I never got around LADYBUG, THROUGH Amber B., age 13
introverted, so in addition to not making friends to doing it. Now I am. I like Ladybug
easily I tend to not talk to them very much anyway. because she is . . . Ladybug. I love Old AND THROUGH! Stillwater, Oklahoma
It’s not hard to find at least one person who you can Cricket and Cricket because they are
get along with. There will also most likely be a group a lot like each other but different all MEWY Tables and Doorknobs!
MEW...
I apologize for the sudden outburst,
of friends who band around you because you’re new the same. I like Muffin because she but almost everybody starts with the
and interesting, and they want to be nice. Teachers likes what I like: books and magazines. I same thing, so I decided to switch it up. I like
will try to help you as much as possible. After the first like Sluggo because he’s funny. Marty, you the color turquoise. I am a total bookworm, and
week or so you’ll become a lot more comfortable. are extreme! George and Tail, you are cool! Two a few of my favorite books are: Harry Potter and the
Nomad Kid heads are better than one! Last but not least (sorry I Half-Blood Prince, Mockingbird, and Matilda. I love
Down to Earth, Chatterbox forgot your name), you are a very good actress. But to play Minecraft. I can’t live without dumplings. I am
Puss is my favorite because I like cats! currently writing a ghost story. My family has one cat,
Hi, Everybuggy! Ursa Gimbel, age 10 and his name is Cheesecake. I love graphic novels and
I am sooo happy to be writing to you bugs! It is Salinas, California all the Greek goddesses and their stories. Currently
my first time in the Letterbox. I love your mag! My my favorite TV show is Kipa and the Age of Wonder-
favorite story is “In Search Of . . .” (January–April Hello, Everyone! beasts. I love listening to music. Also, I really like to
2019). My favorite bugs are Ladybug and Pussywil- I have been reading Cricket for a couple of years eat cheese. Any other Wisconsinites out there?
low. If you asked me to recommend a movie I’d say now. Did anyone out there use a name from a book/ Georgia, age 10
How to Train Your Dragon movies 1, 2, and 3! I’d also movie/video game as their Chatterbox name? I Madison, Wisconsin
recommend Bolt and Frozen II. I am one of those kids totally am using one. Hunter (October 2019), I have
who loves, loves, loves stories about dragons (duh), like a million character ideas for you. I’ll go with Dear Muffin,
mermaids, and basically anything fantasy. I also love this one: Ariana, age 13, long orange hair, blue eyes, Hello! Have you read A Wrinkle in Time?
to draw (mostly dragons), act, cook, and ride my bike. red-orange dress, golden jewelry, pale skin, fierce, It’s awesome! I don’t like A Swiftly Tilt-
Astrid, age 11 brave, headstrong, fire magic power. ing Planet, though, ’cause I don’t like OOOO! MORE
Berk, Scotland A few of my favorite books are Sophie Quire books with such extreme age range READING
P.S. Pussywillow, what is your favorite movie? or character’s personality change.
and the Last Storyguard and the Wings of Fire, SUGGESTIONS!
Dear Astrid, Spirit Animals, and Redwall series. My favorite I really like animals. My favorite YAY!
movies are Frozen II, Return to Neverland, Hook, ten are: owls, dogs, pigs, penguins,
Pussywillow’s favorite movie is The Aristocats. Beauty and the Beast, and Star Wars. I absolutely dolphins, ducks, lions, tigers, fish,
Love, have writer’s block, so if anyone has ideas, let me and fireflies. I really like soccer,
Ladybug know. My best friend and I are collaborating to reading, and Cricket, of course.
write a series called the Chronicles of Enia. I looove Jade M., age 8
Hi, Everybuggy! drawing, and poetry is great! San Francisco, California
This is my first time writing to Cricket. I like to Princess Zelda, age 11
read. My favorite books are Percy Jackson, Harry Bellingham, Washington Dear Everybuggy,
Potter, and Robin Hood. I have four sisters! I’m I love to read, swim, hike, and help with com-
homeschooled and I really like Cricket. I also Dear Ladybug, puter stuff. I’ve read Wonder, Fairest of All (What-
really like New Mexico wolves and Arctic MANY GREAT MOMS I love ladybugs. One of my cousins ever After, Book 1), and Nancy Drew, Volume 1.
wolves. I also like huskies, but my mom GOT CRICKET WHEN did my nails and drew ladybugs on I have two brothers and one sister, Zeke, Asher,
won’t let us have a dog. She used to THEY WERE LITTLE. them! I am a big fan of the Trixie and Lula, who are seven, five, and one. I’m in fifth
grade and I’m homeschooled. My favorite move is
get Cricket when she was little! Belden books and live with my
James, age 10 grampa. I love to read mystery Steven Universe: The Movie.
Portland, Oregon books. I also love to read Harry I love Pussywillow.
P.S. I really like Calvin and Hobbes Potter, and my least favorite char- Caylen Amelia Burkhead, age 11
comic books. acters are Severus Snape, Filch, the Blairsville, Georgia
2
On this coronavirus thread, post what I would love to work at the Clear- CHIRPS FROM CRICKET’S
you do each day during quarantine, so I AM A TEA AND water Marine Aquarium in Florida! LETTERBOX AND CHATTERBOX
people who are bored can get ideas. POETRY BELIEVER. It’s in the movies Dolphin Tale and
Today I sewed a shirt for my American Dolphin Tale 2, and I would love to Important dates with Barnswallow: September
Girls doll, went for a walk and hid see real dolphins, not just in books, 6 Read a Book Day, 12 National Video Games Day,
some painted rocks, read a lot, and calendars, and movies, but up close. 21 International Peace Day, 28 National Good
generally lounged around. I cleaned I would also like to be an actress Neighbor Day. How are you supposed to talk in
my room a little bit and went outside. in a Disney Channel show and/or a the apple library? With your incider voice.
Oh, and I came on the Chatterbox. movie! But if I can’t be those, I guess I Floof Industries
We’ve been talking to our grand- would work at a pet store. This Month
parents almost every day. If any of you like Emekittycon K.,
poetry and tea, something my family does is Kitten Kingdom, Down to Earth Hello there, letter recipient. Are you bored?
drink tea and eat scones while reading poetry. We Wanting to get away? You and several other
particularly like Shel Silverstein. I’m starting high school this year, and although young people have been chosen to attend Cloud
Dolphin, age 12 eons I’ve been homeschooled my whole life, I’m going Top Boarding School. Class will be different than
Coronavirus Thread, Down to Earth to public school. Thankfully I’m not too nervous. any other, with interactive lessons, and most of
I decided that homeschooling doesn’t work the the subjects are optional! You’ll go on hikes and
I still have school, but it’s online now. In my best for me anymore and I’m extroverted and adventures every day. . . .
free time I’ve mostly been drawing, practicing my need to be around people more. Both my older StoryTeller
instruments, prepping for Camp NaNo, FaceTiming siblings went to the school I’m going to. My Cloud Top Boarding School
my friends, working out, taking walks with my classes this year are Honors English, AP Human Inkwell
family, and I’ve gotten into crossword puzzles. My Geography, French II, Honors Earth and Space
friends and I have also been writing letters to one Science, physical education, Algebra I Honors, and The thing that made me happy today was
another, which is really fun! I like to draw in them chorus. I didn’t want to do Honors math, because coming home from school and finding pie on the
and use paper cutouts to make them all pretty, the course description says it is “rigorous” counter.
and it’s always fun to get letters. :) and “fast-paced” and I don’t do well with GREAT FACTS! FACTS Sirf ire
I’ve been kind of bored and I miss school and fast-paced math. But my mom and my (AND FIGURING OUT Happiness Challenge, Down to Earth
guidance counselor said I should do it. WAYS TO FIND THEM)
being around people. I’m very much an extrovert, Also, it’s not until second semester. I love collecting and sharing
so it’s a bit difficult for me, but otherwise I feel ARE SO FUN AND fun facts: The coldest tempera-
very lucky that my family and I are safe and happy Leafy INTERESTING. ture ever recorded was –144$F in
and financially secure. I’m just going to try to make Down to Earth
the best of the quarantine until the coronavirus Antarctica. People who are cur-
blows over! BP had been traveling who-knows- rently alive represent 7% of all the
Abigail where, and luckily she had been able to people who have ever lived. The
Coronavirus Thread, Down to Earth piece together some information from most spoken language is Mandarin
what she had heard and seen, and was now Chinese.
My dad’s family is Puerto Rican, so I have been riding through Hidden Paradise Valley. Hidden Secret
there five times at least. There are a lot of stray cats Paradise Valley felt altogether a rather sleepy Chirp at Cricket
there, as well as huge lizards! My abuela (grandma) town. BP wanted action, adventure! I suppose
used to feed a stray cat and her two kittens, but the I’ll ride over to the Grasplands, might find some I make trading cards. Does anybody else? I
mom wouldn’t let us get too near them, and I don’t adventure there, BP thought. . . . might post pictures of some and the story that
know where they are now. Thankfully it’s been a Bagel Princess goes along with them on Inkwell.
while since there’s been a bad hurricane there, but Kyngdom, Chatterbox Strawberri, age 12 winters
the effects can last a long time. Down to Earth
DoodleGirl, age13 Hawo,
Chirp at Cricket, Chatterbox I am a girl who loves gaming for long periods Some of you Chatterboxers might like the
of time, Warriors, Wings of Fire, and drawing video game Fortnite. The word fortnight means
I want to be an author and marine biologist. I everything Pokémon, dragons, cats, and Warriors. two weeks or fourteen days and originated from
find marine biology so interesting—specifically I like kawaii and manga styles. I am a very official an Old English term meaning fourteen nights.
learning about the animals—and nature docu- Pokémon fanatic. Yup. Totally obsessed with Poké- Amber S., age 11
DYDEOESBYISUGAIIORGONUULNTEOORCHWGT,OONIHRSUEETV/LP/EMDCLFNOAAABSYSSRETHTISUNIAAOMAENRNENSImD.Nenotcateroaiaeandtwnsnh,e,aioaslaetluriuccgsegthspnrhtm.eeertIcasr’y,tdistahotf,aalhaerlvylotvsaouoaeonrbgnndiltihoekefpaueIootsthhvtshtoaeisihnvoirbbegenselsnyo’t mon. I have Ultra Sun, Ultra Moon, and Sword, Franklin, Massachusetts
and a lot of spinoffs. I have a huge collection of
Pokémon stuffies. Send letters to Cricket’s Letterbox,
P.O. Box 300, Peru, IL 61354,
My favorite season is probably fall. And I love
dragons, cats, wolves, the ocean, all big cats . . . or email us at [email protected].
pretty much every animal. I also love Japan. I am Letters may be edited for length.
working to learn kana and hiragana and I have a
much. game to help me learn how to speak Japanese. Visit the Chatterbox at:
cerinthe, age 13 SeaWolfWhite, age 11
Down to Earth Virginia cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox
3
OOOO, LOOK–SUNSHINE AND ...AND THESE JUST HAPPEN TO
BEACHES, MOUNTAINS AND BE BIG BIRD DESTINATIONS. SO
CASTLES! TREEHOUSES... HE MAKES WE MADE FLIERS (HA HA) ABOUT
ME THINK GREAT PLACES UGLY MIGHT LIKE
TEMPTING, “GETAWAY” EXACTLY! WE’VE BEEN
RIGHT? MAKES NOT FOR SURE! BUT WHAT READING TO GO ON MIGRATION.
YOU THINK US–UGLY IF WE COULD ABOUT I SEE.
“GETAWAY!” ARE WE GOING BIRD! MAKE HIM MIGRATION...
SOMEWHERE? GO AWAY,
INSTEAD?
NOW ALL WE LET’S JUST SAY HIS A BIG PILE OF HERE’S A WE’RE ABOUT AWWK-
HAVE TO DO READING IS ALMOST SPARKLY FOIL BALLS NICE BUCKET TO FIND OUT– AWWK!
IS GET HIM OF ONION, THIS BETTER HERE HE COMES! TAKE COVER!
AS GOOD AS HIS AND LEFTOVERS ORANGE, AND NOT BE A
TO READ SPELLING, SO WE SHOULD GET HIS BANANA PEELS WASTE OF
THEM. UGLY KEPT IT SIMPLE. ATTENTION. HE MIGHT LIKE. PERFECTLY
READS? MEWY FUN!
GOOD
COMPOST.
MEW!
PRITTTY
PRITTTY PAPRRRS....
AWOKOIOEOWOOA-ANHT!
SUMMA THIS.
ACK! IS HE READING? WAIT!
LOOK OUT. C’MON, LOOK SOMETHING’S
AT THE FLIERS!
THIS IS NOT AN GOT HIS
APPOPRIATE USE ATTENTION!
OF COMPOST!
OH, NO! HE’S JUST
RIPPING THEM UP.
MEWY MESSY!
SQUAWWKIE-SKWEEE! MAYBE HE READ
IT WRONG.
WHAT DID THAT? NO, THAT’S MAYBE HE WHO UGLY YAY!
HE GO FOR– SOMETHING I THOUGHT IT CARES, IT MIGRATED!
MOUNTAINS? HARD TO H’M WORKED!
TREE HOUSE? TELL. IT’S BROUGHT TO SHOW WAS A BEACH
ALL IN I THINK THIS EVERYBUGGY. IT’S MESS-UP.
CASTLES? PIECES. IS A PIECE OF ABOUT THE BEACH
WHAT HE WAS CLEANUP NEXT
LOOKING AT.
WEEKEND.
4
The Kind of Girl
Donuts Talk To
BY AMY ELISABETH BOKSER
“SO . . . YOU gonna eat me or what?” It’s tricky. I know I have the cut-rate
I look down at my lunch. I know my brand of suede boots, the pink sweatshirt
mom would be mad if she knew I only from the discount mart with the waffle pat-
bought a donut. She’s always on me about tern on it instead of the smooth version that
how a growing girl needs good nutrition, Callie has. So I let her copy my homework
how you can’t learn with just sugar to fuel when she demands it, but I don’t get good
you. She never mentioned this enough grades for her to ask all
particular issue though: the the time. My lunch is usu-
donut is talking to me. ally socially acceptable
Some people would these days, now that I
be delighted about convinced my mom
this, I guess. But to stop packing it
me? This is the in recycled plas-
last thing I tic bags and let
need. me use some of
Long story, my allowance
but in the at the cafeteria.
fourth grade I make sure to
I was known always get a sand-
as the girl who wich and a drink,
threw up on her or maybe a donut;
hand. It took two nothing weird or
years for me to live that smelly, like fish sticks.
down. Now, in the sixth Nothing weird.
grade, I think most people have I look around. At least it’s pretty
forgotten about it. They haven’t teased me in clean in the cafeteria. The teachers are always
months, plus Callie’s been over to my house on the kids to put their recyclables in the
twice AND she invited me to her birthday right place and their dishes in the dish bin.
party. But this donut thing could set me It’s loud in here at the beginning of recess,
back. I don’t want to become known as the and a lot of times you can’t hear what the per-
girl donuts talk to. son next to you is saying, let alone a donut.
DONUT, ANYBUGGY? WE PICK MEWY DON’T TALK
HAVE CHOCOLATE, GLAZED, ME! HELLO? TO STRANGE
DONUTS, PUSS.
Illustrated by Kris Easler RAISED...
text © 2020 by Amy Elisabeth Bokser, art © 2020 by Kris Easler 5
“Yeah. Are you? Because if you are, I’d
like a few moments to compose myself.”
“I was going to,” I say, “until you
started talking.”
“It’s OK,” says the donut mag-
nanimously. “What are donuts
for? Go ahead.”
Callie, my so-called friend,
is in the bathroom. She asked
me to sit with her today,
probably to help her with
her math homework. Her
flowered lunchbox sits across
from me, declaring to the
world that I have friends, or at
least one friend. If Callie hears
a donut talking to me though,
she’ll never let me live it down.
“Um…,” I say.
“Yes?” the donut prompts.
“I think I’ll save you for later.” He
doesn’t protest, so I wrap him in a napkin
and put him in my bag just as Callie sits
down again.
But halfway through, most of the boys go to “Elizabeth. Who were you talking to?”
play soccer and it’s easier to think. “No one.”
I saw Callie buy a donut yesterday, so at “Yes you were. Your lips were moving.”
least yesterday a donut was acceptable. And She narrows her eyes.
I have to admit, I love powdered sugar, even I have nowhere to go but honesty. “Do
though it’s a job to brush it all off my cloth- you see anyone else around? I was talking to
ing before fifth period. But I never expected my donut, I guess.” I roll my eyes.
this problem. She laughs. “Give me half?”
I look around carefully. Then I let my Before I can say anything, she says,
long brown hair fall around my napkin like “Never mind. I’ll buy my own.” She gets up
a donut curtain. “Am I going to eat you?” I from the plastic chair and orders a cinnamon
whisper. donut. Apparently, they don’t talk.
SOME MIGHT SAY TALKING BUGS ARE HEAR HEAR! MEWY ENOUGH! YOU’LL GOOD THING WE
STRANGE. SO WHY NOT TALK TO DONUTS? WELL ONLY GIVE THAT LIKE IDEAS...
I SAY THIS MAGNANIMOUSLY—THAT IS, SAID! CRAZY DONUT
6 GENEROUSLY, OR NOBLY. IDEAS.
POOR ELIZABETH REALLY WORRIES MIDDLE SCHOOL CAN BE
ABOUT WHAT EVERYBUGGY THINKS HARDER THAN A STALE DONUT.
OF HER!
AFTER LUNCH WE have math block. “Take one,” John urges. “It’s cinnamint.”
Mr. Margulies paired me with John for a He grins again, and something about his
project two weeks ago, which is the kiss of crooked teeth makes me do it. I accept a stick
death socially. I don’t know why, really. John of gum from John “The Geek” Murphy. I can
has white-blond hair and blue eyes and is almost hear Callie’s gasp across the room. But
perfectly good-looking by official Callie stan- of course, she’s not even looking at me.
dards. He’s nice, and he doesn’t smell. His
grades are OK, but he’s not a genius. He has AFTER SCHOOL I walk home like always.
a great smile, actually. But no one talks Last year I used to stay late twice a week for
to him ever, except to tease him. math team, but then I realized that it’s only
the geekiest kids who do that. It’s a relief to
I know what you’re think- leave them behind, with their buck teeth,
ing. You’re thinking, “Be his their violin cases, and their weird lunches.
friend! Stand up for him!”
But I’m not like that. It’s
not for me to topple the
middle school hierarchy.
It’s all I can do to keep
my own head above
water.
I speak as little to
John as possible while
doing our math project
together. I can’t afford
to have anyone think that
I think he’s a member of
the human race. He’s used to
it. He remains perfectly polite,
even when I’m borderline rude. He
even offers me a piece of gum every
day, which I always decline.
“Scared Margulies will catch you?” he
grins today.
I snort inadvertently. “Fat chance.”
Margulies is strict; he’ll take you down for
talking, but he couldn’t care less if you chew
gum in class. He’s weird like that.
HIERARCHY IS AN ORDERING ISN’T EVERYBUGGY LISTEN TO
OF PEOPLE FROM MOST TO IMPORTANT? MEWY THE DONUT!
TRUE!
LEAST IMPORTANT.
7
Even if it means I walk home start the first problem, but my heart isn’t in it.
alone. I have to know.
At home, I open a can of Carefully, as though it might bite me, I
cream of mushroom soup and pull back the top flap of napkin. “HELLO!”
settle down to watch Sponge the donut says immediately.
Bob. It’s not rocket science,
but I can’t concentrate. I I giggle. The donut laughs, too. It looks a
know I have math homework. little squashed, but not too bad. I’d still eat it.
And my math homework All else being equal.
is at the bottom of my bag,
with the donut on top. And “How are things?” the donut says. “You
I can’t explain this exactly, but do your math yet? I never got that geometry
even though I’m not on math business.”
team anymore, even though it
might actually make me cooler, I just “It’s pre-algebra,” I say. Am I arguing with
CAN’T let myself get a zero for math a donut? Why is this my life?
homework.
The phone rings before the donut can
My bag is in a heap next to the TV. I go respond, and I run to get it. My mom freaks
to it and take a deep breath, then pull back out if I don’t answer the phone right away in
the Velcro in one swift motion, like a spy the afternoons. She feels a lot of guilt about
opening the door of the bad guys’ lair. Or working, not providing me with siblings, etc.
something. Nothing happens. Silence.
Maybe I imagined the donut talk-
ing. Maybe my troubles ARE as small as
Margulies pairing me with John again,
or what color my pencil box should be.
Although, if there really was no talk-
ing donut, then I may need a psychiatrist.
Which my parents just Could Not Handle.
I’m almost starting to hope the donut WAS
talking.
I peek inside my bag, lift out the bundle
of napkins. I half expect to feel a heartbeat
or something, but no. I put it on the floor.
Could I just forget about the donut and do
my homework? I open my binder and try to
SHOULD WE ASK DOUGIE DONUT AH, BUT CAN HE ROLL AS FAST AS ME?
TO JOIN THE GANG? HE’S (AHEM) LET’S FIND OUT. RACE YA!
SWEETER THAN LADYBUG. (HA HA)
8
Not enough guilt that she’s bought me a cell you’re forced to do in wartime. Maybe most 9
phone or anything, but whatever. She should sixth graders don’t think of their friends that
chill. way. I don’t know.
“Hi, Mom!” I say. “You’ve got a lot of skills, kid,” continues
“Whatever,” answers Callie’s voice. the donut. “You need to start owning that.
“Listen, Elizabeth? Are you and Geek Boy Get out from under that Callie’s thumb. She’s
finished with your project for Margulies’s got you wrapped around her finger, so to
class?” speak. You’re a nice person.” He shrugs. Don’t
“Almost,” I say. I didn’t want to be seen ask me how, but he does.
meeting with him outside school, so we actu-
ally are all finished. But I don’t want to seem “How do you know?” I ask. I never really
smug. thought of myself as a nice person.
“Show-off,” she sighs anyway. “Well, what
did you do for number six?” And I spend “Look at you!” says the donut. “You won’t
twenty minutes explaining number six to her. even eat your own donut! I’m going stale
When I get off the phone, I could swear here!”
the donut is smiling. “What?” I say.
“Nothing,” he says. “I’m impressed. I told “I feel weird,” I tell him, “eating someone
you I never got that math stuff. Until you who’s talking to me. Who’s helping me.”
explained it—and so nicely, too! You
didn’t even make her feel stu- “Glad to be of service,” says the donut.
pid . . . somehow.” “But I AM a donut. And if I may say, a deli-
“She’s not stupid. cious donut.”
She just doesn’t really
care about math.” “I’d still feel weird.”
“And you “I understand,” the donut says.
didn’t tell her “I notice you have that prob-
the answer lem a lot.”
either! You’ve got “What problem?”
patience. And real “You know. The one
whatchamacallit— where you feel weird
interpersonal skills.” about things, so you
“Well, thanks,” don’t do them. Even
I say. I never thought if you want to. You
of dealing with Callie as like math?” he says,
a skill. More like something changing the subject
suddenly.
I’M TRULY HUMBLED BY HOW “Sure,” I say. “It’s
EVERYBUGGY IN THE CRICKET COUNTRY got rules, steps. You follow
them correctly, you get the
HIERARCHY LOOKS UP TO ME...
right answer. It’s clear. I like that.”
HUMBLED? CAREFUL. YOU’LL SOUND
SMUG—MEANING SUPERIOR,
PLEASED WITH YOURSELF, AND
CONCEITED.
HOW COULD ANYBUGGY BE SO LOW AND STILL—I AM
UNCIVILIZED AS TO EAT YOU, NOW THAT A DONUT.
WE’VE GOTTEN TO TALK TO YOU?
“So why dontcha go to math team any- “I’m ready,” he says. “And Elizabeth? If
more then? You loved it.” you wrap masking tape around your hand
with the sticky side out, it helps with the
I start to protest, but then I close my cleanup.”
mouth. I don’t know how he knows it, but
the donut is right. He’s right about that, too, it turns out.
“And that guy you like.” THEN I GET on the phone. John and I
“WHAT guy I like!” exchanged numbers at the beginning of the
“The math guy. The blond one. He’s project, but I didn’t think I’d ever use his.
nice.”
“I don’t like him!” “Hey,” I say, when he answers.
“No?” says the donut mildly. “My mis- “Hey yourself, Elizabeth.”
take.” I stare at him for a moment. He We talk about math for a little while, then
continues, “My cousin Annabelle liked him, about pizza, and cooking. His dad, who’s
a lot.” always after him to play badminton with him,
“Who the heck is Annabelle?” And
how dare she like MY geeky math partner?
“Thursday’s lunch,” says the donut.
“She looks a lot like me. Ask him.”
I stare at the donut in disbelief. “So
you’re not the only talking donut around?”
“Of course not. Most people keep it
quiet.” He somehow shrugs again. “Actually,
most people just eat us.”
“You really want me to do that.”
“Elizabeth. Sweetheart. I’m a donut. I
taste really good. Dip me in coffee, or maybe
you’re a little young, hot chocolate. It’s what
I was made for. Do it; you’ll like it. And the
sooner the better. Tomorrow I might be a
little stale.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this. But I go
into the kitchen and open a packet of hot
chocolate. With marshmallows. I put on some
water to boil. I pour it into the mug. Then I
go back to the living room and get the donut.
“Are you composed?” I ask him.
HE WAS A FRIEND, YOU BRUTE! AND MEWY MEANIE!
IF ANYBUGGY WAS GOING TO EAT
10 THAT DONUT, IT WAS ME!
“Just . . .” If I do this, I know, I can never
go back. Callie won’t talk to me anymore.
Probably no one will anymore but John. Well,
donuts might.
What has Callie ever done for me? John
smiles at me every day and gives me gum.
And did his fair share of the math project.
And makes me happy.
I take a deep breath. “Do you want to
go for pizza after school tomorrow?”
“YES!” he says, surprising me with the
strength of his answer. “I mean, yes. Sure.”
If donuts can shrug, I guess boys can grin
through the phone. “Annabelle told me to
let you come to me. I didn’t believe it would
work though.”
“Annabelle? How?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But I guess we
can discuss it over pizza.”
Pizza doesn’t talk. Right?
for some reason. His little sister. Finally, I get
up the courage to ask him.
“Hey, John?”
“Yeah?”
“Just wondering—you don’t have to, but I
was wondering . . .” I pause. “Could you tell
me what you had for lunch on Thursday?”
“Chicken salad sandwich that my mom
made,” he says without hesitating. Then, “Oh
. . . well, I bought a donut, but . . . I saved it
for later.”
“I see.”
There is silence.
“Was there anything else you wanted to
ask me?”
THESE DONUTS LEFT IN THE BOX MAYBE I’LL STICK SO IF A PIZZA COULD 11
AREN’T TALKING, BUT I SWEAR TO CHOCOLATE CHIP TALK, WOULD IT CALL
THEY’RE LOOKING AT ME FUNNY. COOKIES FOR NOW.
OUT FOR ITSELF?
Can I Live Within Your Smile?
by Hope Letson
A question I have to ask . . .
Can I live within your smile?
Or maybe just vacation in it for a little while?
It looks so welcoming, so hospitable
The weather here has been so miserable
How’s the weather in your smile?
Can I stay within your voice?
If not, could I just sleep there a night, or two, at most?
I know it’s an awful lot to ask
But when you talk it’s so steady, so comforting
And I have such trouble sleeping
Can I sit and watch you go about your day?
I promise not a word I’ll say
I simply admire the gentle way
You complete a task
If it’s not too much to ask?
Can I make a home of your heart?
Can I unpack my things?
Whenever I am around you, my heart sings
Can I just linger, tidy up some things,
Until you decide?
12 text © 2020 by Hope Letson
The Traveler 13
by Connie Martin
Part 1
Jamie wandered aimlessly,
kicking a broken chunk of sidewalk,
following the chip of cement as it
skittered and bounced through leaves and
off curbs. In a trance, she walked down
unknown blocks and around unfamiliar
corners, her mind so far away that she
didn’t sense the falling night until the
chill air pinched her nose and a gust of
wind lifted her out of her meandering
thoughts.
She found herself in a spooky, run-
down neighborhood. Above her a yellow
streetlight stained the gathering dusk.
She could barely make out the words on
the bent sign. Vine Street. She had never
heard of it.
Shadows buried the intersecting
streets in darkness. Which way was back?
Defeated, she plopped down on her back-
pack. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
The glowing numbers on her watch
flashed, as if laughing at her. It was din-
nertime at home. Five-thirty sharp, so her
stepdad wouldn’t miss his favorite news
show. Today was Friday, which meant
greasy meat loaf with out-of-the-box
mashed potatoes and green Jell-O with
canned pears.
Illustrated by Daniel Krall
She actually wished she were there, or, “This place would be great for
rather, her stomach did. It felt like wadded-up Halloween,” Jamie said to the cat. “Even the
paper. All she’d had for lunch was pop and a cemetery isn’t this creepy.”
bag of potato chips.
The cat darted into the house through a
Something swiped across her ankle. She square hole in the front door. Jamie heard a
jerked back and looked down to see a pure meowing cry. Her invitation to follow? Was
white Persian cat sitting at her feet. It sat so this worth a rusty can of food? Her paper-wad
still it could have been a statue. stomach gave a sharp twist. Yeah!
“Go home,” she said. It didn’t move. “Go As she crunched through the weeds, she
home!” she repeated, leaning toward it. It tried not to think of what might be slithering
blinked, slowly, and tilted its head. “Shoo!” around her feet. It wasn’t until she reached
She stood up to step around it, but the cat the porch that she realized she’d been hold-
pounced in front of her. It sat down again ing her breath. She let it out and put a foot
and purred as loudly as her brother’s aquar- on the first step. The board creaked and
ium motor. She imagined feeding the cat his sagged under her weight. A back door banged
fish collection. That made her smile. in the wind. The cat meowed. What’s taking
you so long?
“Maybe you’re lost and hungry, too?” she
asked. “I’ll make you a deal. You show me the “You sound like my mother,” she whis-
way home, and I’ll give you something good pered back.
to eat.” It blinked its huge eyes at her. “Sushi,
fresh,” she added. It continued to stare up at An icy finger dropped down her spine
her, as if listening to every word. “No? Well, as something slipped past the side window.
do you have anything for me to eat? Catnip? Only the cat, she thought. She forced herself to
Tuna?” As if on cue, the cat bounded across imagine a can of food waiting inside—prob-
the street and looked back at her, waiting. ably cat food! She wiped a sweaty palm on
her jeans and grabbed the metal doorknob.
“OK, OK, I’m coming.” Something creaked inside. Her hand froze.
Jamie picked up her backpack and followed
as the cat slipped through a broken fence sur- Run, just run! she thought. But if she did,
rounding a ramshackle house. Even in the near she’d hate herself for being a chicken. Slowly,
darkness, Jamie could see the paint curling off she turned the knob. It whined and snapped.
the sides. Shutters hung loose or had fallen off Her nerves jumped. She pushed the door
altogether. The gutter lay like a monstrous snake open, feeling more hungry and cold now than
in the knee-high weeds, and in the dim street- scared. Her eyes squinted into the darkness.
light the windowpanes glittered with spider web Gradually the room’s interior began to take
cracks. Trees clawed the roof, while shrubs and shape. She saw a sofa and a coffee table on an
vines clambered over the porch railing. area rug and what looked like a china cabinet
against the wall. So where was the cat?
STAY CLOSE, PUSS! SOMETHING
PURRY PURRTY CREEPY IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN,
14 KITTY! I KNOW IT.
“Kitty, kitty, kitty?” she said softly, taking “O’Connor, eh? With a name like that, ye
another step inside. canna’ be all bad.” His voice softened. “Did
ye get lost in the storm, lass?”
Claws raked across the porch, and she
whirled around. Her shoulders sagged in relief “I followed a white cat,” Jamie said. “I
as she realized it was just branches scraping didn’t think anyone could possibly live here.
against the house. I’ll just go now.” She waited nervously for
him to step aside.
Rain tapped lightly on the windowpanes,
and thunder rattled the glass. Lightning “Caesar brought ye, eh?” He sounded
flashed, glinting off a throne-like chair oppo- amused. “Well, any friend of Caesar be a
site the sofa. Jamie crossed to it and ran her friend of mine. Ye can call me Eddy. Join
finger along the back. It felt cold, like metal. me for some tea and cake?”
Was it real gold?
He seemed harmless, and she was hun-
She walked carefully over to the china gry, so she followed him to the tiny kitchen.
cabinet and peered in. In the flickering light He switched on the light, and there, on the
she made out a porcelain china doll on the chipped Formica-topped table sat the white
top shelf. Below it stood an Oriental fan dec- cat, cleaning its whiskers, waiting for them. It
orated with flakes of gemstones. Beside it was stared at Jamie with eyes as blue as sea foam.
a carved jade vase and a jeweled dagger.
Jamie sat on a chair with a cracked vinyl
“This is a museum!” she breathed. seat and dropped her backpack onto the
“Na, this is me home.” speckled pink linoleum. The refrigerator was
She spun around as a shadowy form squatty and rounded, and when the old man
stepped forward. pulled on a fat silver bar, the door popped
“Who are ye, might I be askin’?” said a open. Inside, a huge light bulb blinked on.
raspy voice.
She stared, petrified. Then she realized He took out a plate of teacakes and set it
the figure was wearing a shabby bathrobe and on the table. The cat mewed as if to say I told
slippers. He was just an ordinary old man you so. Eddy pushed the fridge door shut and
leaning on a cane. shuffled to the sink where he filled a kettle.
“Your mother did name ye, now didn’t He put it on the gas stove, over a blue flame.
she?” He spoke with an Irish lilt.
“I’m—I’m Rosie O’Connor,” she impro- “Rosie, eh? A lovely name. Bein’ as you’re
vised. Surely he didn’t expect her to give an O’Connor, are ye Irish, then?”
her real name, did he? She calculated the
distance between him and the door and the “Me? No. I’m nothing.”
speed necessary to shoot past before he could He grunted and shuffled the four steps to
grab her. the table where he lowered himself into a chair,
leaning his cane against the tabletop. He picked
at the plastic wrap matted around the edge of
the plate.
16
Impatiently, Jamie folded her arms over her “I’m a traveler.” He picked up a cake and
cramping stomach. “What do you do?” took a bite.
He smiled, peeling back the plastic cover. “A salesman? My real dad sold tools for a
“I live.” He offered her a teacake. while.”
She took it and stuffed it into her mouth. “I’ve nothin’ for sale.”
When she could speak again, she said, “I “So how do you make money to buy
mean, what do you do for a living?” those beautiful things?”
17
“I never make money. I make friends.
Those ‘things’ be gifts from many people and
many places.”
“You travel all over the world?” She felt a
spark of interest. “Have you met any famous
people? You know, kings or sheiks?”
He merely smiled and stood with the help
of his cane. Moving to the stove, he spooned
tea leaves into a brown-glazed pot before pour-
ing in steaming water from the kettle. He
carried the pot to the table and poured the tea
into two cups.
The fragrance of mint tickled Jamie’s nos-
trils as she took a sip. The tea burned down
her throat, but it tasted so good. The old
man’s piercing green eyes examined her from
under white bushy eyebrows. He rubbed the
stubble on his cheek.
“Tell me, lass, have ye ever heard of the
Taj Mahal?”
“It’s white, isn’t it? In India? A palace, or
something?”
“’Tis a tomb, in truth. A magnificent edi-
fice. Had a tour by the shah himself. Jahan
was a pleasant fellow, though a might solemn
since the death of his wife, Mumtaz.” He
offered her another cake. Nothing had ever felt
as warm and comforting as this tea, or tasted
as good as this cake, and it wasn’t even frosted.
“Come to think of it,” he continued, “the
most excitin’ travel I ever experienced was
when I sailed from Spain to the New World.
That was adventure at its peak. I was drinkin’
a wee glass of ale in a pub with some of the
finest sailors in Spain, when a great and
terrible brawl broke out. Now, that was a
18
good time.” He chuckled at the memory. “I He continued reminiscing. “How about
ducked the flyin’ mugs and was makin’ me George Washington Carver? Now, there was
way with God’s speed to the doors, when I an inspirin’ fellow. I gave him an idea for the
saw a mate in trouble. Two big sailors were fifty-ninth use of the peanut. A paste you
holdin’ him down, and another was about to could use for glue or crackers.”
smash him with a chair. I’m a firm believer
in fair play, and it was a very nice chair, so I “You—are—not—serious.”
sprang in to help.” “Shouldn’t I be? I thought it was inge-
nious meself.”
“That’s totally unreal,” Jamie mumbled “Look, you’re old, not ancient! How dumb
through a mouthful of cake. She washed do you think I am?”
it down with tea and asked, “So what hap- “Ye do na’ believe me?” He didn’t even
pened? Did you win?” crack a smile. “’Tis as true as I’m sittin’ here.”
“Oh, don’t tell me, you also took part in
Motioning with his hands, he said, “I the Boston Tea Party, rode inside the Trojan
grabbed the chair and hit the one on the right Horse, and, and—wait, I know—you laid the
and then the one on the left. That gave the fel- first brick on the Sphinx.”
low on the floor time to get up, and he punched “Na,” he replied, “I just watched the Boston
the third man square in the face, and we flew Tea Party, I didn’t have the courage to ride in
out the doors.” He chuckled again. “We didn’t the Trojan horse, and I must confess, in all me
stop runnin’ till we were out of town.” days of travelin’, I never saw the Sphinx.”
She studied Eddy in the weak light of the
“Bet he was glad you were there.” bulb. Behind him raindrops oozed through
“That he was. When he learned I was in a cracked windowpane and trickled onto the
need of some doubloons, he offered me a job sill. Caesar blinked his azure eyes at her, as if
on his ship. Turns out he was the first mate on waiting for a thank you. Still she watched the
the Santa Maria, and I sailed with him on a old man’s face. He gazed steadily back at her,
most historic voyage. My, I loved the smell of unnervingly serious.
the sea and the first sight of land. That was Did he think she was dumb enough to
fine excitement.” believe all this? But even if he was crazy, she
Jamie helped herself to another teacake. still had to ask, “So what’s the future like?”
“Historic voyage? Was the captain famous, or Now his eyes narrowed on hers. “Do na’
something?” know. Never been. Ye wantin’ to go?”
He nodded. “Cristoforo Colombo.” “You selling tickets?”
“Never heard of him.” He returned her gaze. “Possibly.”
“Ye Americans call him Christopher “Oh? What’s it gonna cost?”
Columbus.” “Belief,” he said.
“Sorry?” She didn’t dare swallow the cake
in her mouth for fear of choking on it.
19
“I don’t have any of that.” “I know every breath brings ye closer to it.”
“Ah, lass, there be so much to believe in, so “Closer to what?” Her jaw stiffened. “Every
much goodness in the world and in people.” night there’s another riot or a terrorist attack
“Yeah, right. Maybe in ancient history. Not or war on TV. Thousands of people are dying
today. Certainly not tomorrow.” every day from new diseases, and grownups
He reached for his cane and propped it think we’re too young and stupid to care what’s
between his knees. “Tell me about yourself, lass.” going on. Grownups are the ones who don’t
“I gotta go.” She stood. The rain was more care. Just look at my parents. What does it
tolerable than this. matter to you, anyhow? You’re old and you’ve
“The cakes were na’ free.” lived your life.” She grabbed her backpack.
“I don’t have any money.” “Thanks for the cakes.”
“But ye have an answer, now do na’ ye?” He pulled two coins out of his pocket
“I’m just a number in a high school. I’m and dropped them on the table. They rolled
nobody.” and chinked together. “Take these and call your
“Nobody’s nobody.” mother and father. They be scared, too. For ye.”
Jamie rolled her eyes. She snatched the coins. “Yeah, well,
He rose slowly and took a step toward her. thanks. Really. I’ll pay you back.”
“Ye do have parents?” Caesar meowed, and Eddy rubbed the cat’s
“One of each. And one fake one.” chin. “I’d be glad if ye trespassed here again.
“Brother or a sister?” Caesar would, too. He followed me home
“One bratty brother who collects fish and from Persia. That was on me very first jour-
rocks, but I’m the one with rocks in my head.” ney. Lonely, he was.” He looked up at her and
“Interestin’ form of brain matter. Makes ye winked. “Needs a good friend.”
quite a specimen.” Eddy gave her directions to Main Street,
“Yeah, well, I guess. It’s what my stepdad and she grabbed her backpack and walked
always says.” down the hall to the front door.
He leaned on his cane and gazed deep into It wasn’t until she stood at the gas station
her eyes. “What grabs ye and doesn’t let ye go? pay phone, soaked, trying to shove the first
What is it ye want more than anythin’ else?” coin into the slot, that she even looked at
She shrugged and looked down. “I don’t it. Now she gaped. In the palm of her hand
want anything.” lay a heavy gold piece with Roman numerals
“Ye have your whole life ahead of ye, lass. and Latin inscribed around a man’s leaf-
If ye do na’ want somethin’, you’ll get nothin’.” encircled head. She turned it over; on the
“And what is there to get? You can’t pre- back was a bird. The coin felt thick, and
tend you’ve traveled to the future, ’cause you the images were lumpy, not sharp and defined.
don’t know anything about it.” It looked ancient.
to be continued
EDDY WAS AT SOME
AMAZING HISTORICAL OR A WEE BIT TETCHED IN THE
20 EVENTS. HE MUST BE HEAD, DON’T YE BE A-KNOWIN’.
REALLY OLD.
CYBER-PARENTS
by Jo Mularczyk
COOPER FELT GOOSEBUMPS without tearing her eyes away from the screen.
“He’s such a noob.”
break out all over his arms. He looked at his
mom in disbelief. She was wearing his video “A noob? Mom, since when do you know
game headset and staring at the TV screen. what a noob is, or a creeper? And who are you
There was a vein in the side of her neck that he talking to?” Now that the shock was wearing
had never noticed before. It was pulsing. But off, his brain was full of questions.
none of that was the most terrifying. The cause
of the goosebumps was what he heard coming In an even more insane development, his
from his mother’s mouth. mother just ignored him. She kept playing as if
he hadn’t even spoken.
“Yesss!” she hissed triumphantly. “I got
the emerald sword! I’m coming for you, Cooper backed away from the disturbing
Dunder Dragon!” scene in the living room. “Daaaad!” he called,
trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He
“Mom? What are you doing?” he asked. walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. The
“Oh wassup, honey? NO! Look out! The screen of his dad’s phone showed Candy Crunch,
creeper is right behind you.” and he could hear the unmistakable tune.
Cooper’s mom covered the mouthpiece
and spoke to him out of the side of her mouth “What are you doing, Dad?” Cooper
whispered.
Illustrated by Kristen Lankford A NOOB IS SOMEBUGGY LIKE ME! SO I’M A NOOB AT
A NEWBIE, A WHO IS TRYING COMPUTER GAMES, BUT I LIKE 21
text © 2020 by Jo Mularczyk, art © 2020 by Kristen Lankford BEGINNER. LEARNING NEW THINGS.
SOMETHING
NEW.
“I don’t know how to tell you this dude, Feeling disconnected from your
but your old man is pretty OP at this game.” kids? Sick of losing them to screens?
Cyber-Parent has the answer. Order
Dude? OP? Cooper leaned back against your solution on our website today.
the wall, afraid that he might sink to the
ground without its support. His phone “Jay, I think I found some-
vibrated, and he raised it to his ear absently. thing. I’ll call you back.” He tore
down the leaflet and poked his
“Hello?” head back into the living room.
“Cooper, I’m freakin’ out. My parents are His mom was working the controls
acting really weird. They’re playing ForthRite. furiously while raving about slay-
And dude . . . I saw them doing the floss!” ing the Dunder Dragon. As her
Cooper heard the same panic in his friend’s thumbs flicked the buttons, he
voice that he was feeling. noticed a bright yellow band on
“Mine are playing Mineshaft and Candy her wrist. His dad, who had now
Crunch. I don’t understand what’s going on.” joined his mother in the world of
Cooper looked around the room desperately. Mineshaft, also wore one.
His eyes landed on a bright yellow leaflet
stuck on the fridge door. He walked toward it Cooper raced to his bedroom
and read: and sat in front of his computer.
He typed in the Cyber-Parent website from
the leaflet. An unsettling beat began play-
ing. A balding man with an unnaturally
huge grin appeared on the screen and started
speaking in a recorded voice. “Feeling dis-
connected from your kids? Sick of losing
them to screens? Wish you could enter their
world? Cyber-Parent has the answer. Just fill
in our online order form, and we’ll send your
wristband the very next day. Cyber-Parent—
bringing you and your child together.”
So now he knew why his parents and Jay’s
parents were acting so strangely, but he didn’t
know how to fix it. Would removing the
wristbands be enough? Maybe they needed to
be deactivated. And what if his parents didn’t
want to take them off? They sure seemed to
be enjoying themselves.
OP STANDS FOR MEWY THE FLOSS IS A I ALWAYS FLOSS AFTER
OVERPOWERING AND TRUE! DANCE THAT’S BRUSHING. OC IS OP AT
22 MEANS SOMETHING IS GONE VIRAL.
AMAZING OR AWESOME. THE FLOSS!
MOBS ARE MOBILE THEY DON’T SCARE ME! I’LL
CREATURES. PADDLE THEIR CANOE!
He returned to the homepage and saw a “Here it is, Cooper!” Amber cried as she
tab Taking care of your wristband. He clicked ran back into the room. “Let’s play!”
it and scrolled down until he read Never
expose your wristband to water. “Let’s spray Mom and Dad first,” he whis-
pered as he grabbed the water pistol.
“OK,” Cooper muttered to himself, “I
need to wet the wristbands.” “Mommy says we can’t play with water in
the house,” Amber warned.
His sister’s cries could suddenly be heard
from her bedroom. “Mo-o-mm, I scratched “Don’t worry. You wait here. I’ll do it, so
my leg!” He felt his goosebumps return as the you won’t get in trouble. Then we’ll go out-
silence grew. His mother wasn’t answering. side and play.”
Cooper grabbed a bandage from the cup- Cooper filled the pistol at the kitchen
board and went to tend to his sister. “Amber, sink and walked into the living room. Both
shouldn’t you be at drama class?” he asked as his parents now wore headsets.
he smoothed the bandage onto her leg.
“Watch out for the mobs!” his mom
“Mommy said not today,” she murmured, shrieked.
wiping her tears.
Cooper crept closer, although he was
Cooper’s fears spiked further. He had to confident he could make as much noise as he
fix this now! liked and not disturb his parents.
“Amber, do you still have that water pistol He aimed at his mother’s wrist and
you got for Christmas?” squeezed the trigger. Water soaked his mom’s
arm and started dripping onto the carpet. He
“Yes!” kept squeezing. His mom squealed and looked
“Can I please borrow it?” toward Cooper with glassy eyes that didn’t
“If you let me play, too!” she chirped, her seem to recognize him. As the pistol emptied
tears forgotten as she ran to find her toy. and the wristband got wetter, her eyes slowly
While he
waited, Cooper
grabbed his phone
and typed a text to
Jay. Check if your
parents are wearing
yellow wristbands.
They’re from some
freaky company, and
I think they’re mess-
ing with their minds.
Wet the wristbands.
IT’S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! I’M COMING FOR YOU,
FEEL BETTER, DADDY-O? DUNDER DRAGON!
cleared. She shook her head and spoke in a Cooper peered into the living room. His
drowsy voice as if she’d just woken up. parents stood, controllers and headsets in their
hands, looking slightly confused. Cooper
“Cooper honey, what’s going on?” Then wondered if he should tell them what had hap-
she collapsed onto the couch. pened or if that might make everything worse.
Cooper stepped forward in alarm, but his “Hey guys,” he said as he entered the
mother started snoring and he realized she’d room. He casually walked over and grabbed
fallen asleep. His dad hadn’t turned his atten- the controllers and headsets from his parents.
tion from the screen. Cooper refilled the pistol
and wet his dad’s wristband. His dad’s reaction “Are you going to play for a bit before
was the same, and he fell asleep beside his wife. dinner?” his dad asked.
Cooper quickly removed the wristbands and
threw them in the kitchen trash bin. “Nah,” Cooper said as he put the control-
lers and headsets away. “I promised Amber I’d
His phone vibrated with a message from play water pistols with her.”
Jay. All good, dude. Thanks!
As he left the room he heard his dad say,
He heard voices from the living room. “That’s a nice surprise.”
“What happened?” his dad asked.
“Why am I wet? What are these head- His mom answered, “I’ll never understand
phones doing on my head?” his mom asked. why he loves those video games so much any-
way. . . . ”
24
12 34 5
6 78
9 10
11 12
13 14 15
16
17 18
19 20 21
22 23 24 25
26 27
28 29
Solution on page 47
Across Down
1. Movable symbol on computer screen 1. Double- a mouse
4. Portable, battery-operated computer 2. Chat
6. Connected to the Internet 3. Sudden assault or attack
7. Street (abbreviation) 4. Mistruths
9. www.cricketmagkids 5. Websites have home
10. Walk nervously back and forth 7. Unwanted e-mail messages
12. Method of sending documents or photographs 8. Adults can file their income by computer
via telephone 11. To remove information stored in a computer
13. Buttons used for entering data 12. Document stored on a computer
15. Short for Instant Message 14. Hit to transmit an e-mail
16. Short for Electronic Mail 7. A large number; lots
17. Minnesota (abbreviation) 9. Palm-sized device used to select items on a UGLY USES
puter screen and to move cursor THE HUNT,
18. To revise or correct a manuscr NO, NO, PECK, AND
20. What a computer mouse sits STOP! 0. Writing instrument DESTROY
22. To access a computer docume YOU’RE 1. Self-replicating code planted illegally in a co METHOD
25. French for me WRECKING
26. New York (abbreviation) MY puter program IN HIS
LAPTOP! SEARCH FOR
KNOWLEDGE.
3. and ends
27. Control-Alt- 4. Three-pronged end of a computer power cord
28. Mistakes 5. List of options on a computer screen
29. User
JUST FOR A MINUTE THERE, UGLY HAD THE 25
WHOLE WORLD OF INFORMATION AT HIS
FINGERTIPS... OR AT HIS BEAKTIP, ANYWAY.
Part 1
The Goose and the Swan
by Kate Selby
THE LARGE, SNOWY goose was, young goose, he did not notice when his own
flock left the lake for the last time that fall.
as usual, not paying attention. There were
many birds at the lake, with more gathering On the other side of the lake swam a jet-
each day. He hardly noticed the arrivals black swan whose leg had been injured during
anymore, instead preferring to feed hungrily a scuffle with another swan. When his flock
on the lush grass that rimmed the water’s gathered to fly south, he was still too weak to
edge. Sometimes the sky was filled with the pound his feet upon the water to take flight.
big white geese, as well as smaller, charcoal He was left behind, watching the air—once
swans, flying in and landing, rising up again, filled with noise and birds—grow still as the
circling, then settling back onto the water. last of the geese and swans departed.
It was as if they were practicing a dance
recital. Over the next several days, some of The white goose suddenly noticed that
the groups would take off and not return, the lake was eerily quiet. He was not yet a
beginning their journey south before the year old, so without the guidance of the flock,
oncoming winter cold. So distracted was the he did not know which way to go. He looked
in every direction. The sky was empty. The
26 Illustrated by Junli Song
text © 2020 by Kate Selby, art © 2020 by Junli Song
only bird he saw was a black swan, swimming But he noticed that the goose only chased
alone and feeding along the opposite shore. him away, and did not try to harm him.
The swan was miserable. He could not A day or two later, with the grass and
fly, and his flock had left him. But he had reeds growing thin on his side, the ebony
food, and he was not completely alone. A swan recognized the need to find better
single goose remained. The swan couldn’t forage. He tried approaching the goose’s side
imagine why the goose had not flown away again. The goose again gave chase, but not
with the others, but the presence of the tower- quite as ferociously, or as far as, the first time.
ing white bird feeding across the water made
the swan feel safer and a little less lonely. The goose wondered why the swan kept
coming near. He did not wish to be with the
The first time the swan paddled over swan; he had his own food and territory. But
to see what the food supply was like on the in the evenings when it was time to sleep,
goose’s side, the goose hissed and rushed at he felt lonely. He missed the closeness of his
him. The swan’s lame leg did not paddle well, flock, and the way they would huddle together
and the goose could have easily reached him. each night as they fell asleep. This was partly
for warmth and partly for safety; there would
always be someone awake to keep watch and
sound an alarm if a bobcat crept up, or a fox
or coyote passed by. Now, he spent his nights
sleeping fitfully as he both tried to rest and
keep watch. He learned to nap during the day
and stay on alert a bit more at night.
So the goose did not notice as the swan
began coming nearer and nearer while he
napped, eating the green grass and sedges at
the water’s edge, quite close by.
One day, the goose awoke from his nap
to find the swan swimming and feeding very
near. The swan had his back to the goose and
was unaware the white bird had awoken. The
goose watched the solid black bird with the
bright orange bill for a while, and decided he
felt more at ease knowing there were two sets
of eyes keeping watch. Carefully, he slipped
into the water and began to feed just a short
distance from the smaller bird.
EBONY IS A RICH AND FORAGE IS GRASS, HAY, 27
FABULOUS BLACK, EVEN IF FOOD, OFTEN PLANTS, SEEDS,
FOUND OR THAT SORT OF
I DO SAY SO MYSELF. GATHERED.
THING.
When the swan saw that the goose had mer, worrying that he would be easy prey for
entered the water, he began to paddle off. a wandering fox. She had also seen the lame
However, he soon realized that the goose, swan and had wondered how he would be
while watching closely, was only feeding able to survive.
and drinking, not giving chase. The swan
settled and watched the enormous white bird, Now each day she watched the pair grow-
transfixed by the brilliance of his feathers, so ing closer and living together. It seemed to
bright the sun glinted off them like a spar- her they were taking care of each other.
kling stream. The big bird looked so strong
and fierce yet was not attacking. After a But winter was coming. How would they
while, the swan began to relax and feed, nib- manage once the snow fell and the water froze
bling nervously at first, then more bravely. He over? The stream that fed the lake usually ran
actually felt much safer with the goose nearby. all winter, so fresh water was not a problem.
But there would be no grass to eat, no plants
As the days wore on, and the nights along the edges of the lake they could reach.
grew chilly, the birds spent more time feed- What would they do then? What could she do?
ing together and began to take turns keeping
watch, as is their way. At night, they slept The girl lived at an old dairy farm, with
together, first on one side of the lake, then fields that went right up to the edge of the
the other. They stayed close for warmth, still small lake. Looking around the barns one day
sharing guard duties. Day by day, they moved she found what appeared to be an old rab-
around the lake until they found the perfect bit hutch. It was a low, rectangular structure
spot—a slight rise just beyond the cattails, with a hole for a door in one end and a raised
where visibility was good, and the tall grass wooden floor. It looked like a small doghouse
made a comfortable, dry bed. The water here with a sloped roof that opened up, thanks to
was shallow and clear, so they knew that food a large metal hinge that ran its length.
was easy to reach, and not even an otter or
snapping turtle could approach without being One day when she saw the birds were
spotted. busy at the far end of the lake, she grabbed
her brother and asked for help carrying the
And so they passed their days eating, old hutch down to the water’s edge near
preening, watching, and sleeping together. where the birds liked to rest at night. He
Little did they know that they were being had listened to her go on about the birds for
watched as vigilantly as they watched for weeks, and wasn’t really interested. He fig-
danger. ured the goose would fly off eventually, and
the swan would likely become someone’s sup-
But this was not a predator; this was a per, and he’d told her this many times. But
young girl. She had noticed how the young she begged him to help, and by now the birds
goose tended to stray from the flock all sum- had stayed on the lake so late into the fall
that he was a bit curious.
28
They balanced the hutch across an The noise of the wheelbarrow alarmed
old, rusty wheelbarrow that squeaked and the birds, who retreated into a thick cover of
groaned in protest as they pushed it down dried, rustling reeds at the very farthest end
the field and toward the lake. The ground of the lake. From there, they watched the two
was bumpy, and the wheelbarrow wobbled children remove the squat wooden structure
and tipped, threatening to dump its load and place it in the grass right by where the
any moment. birds had made their bed.
29
The children checked that the hutch building, and even went inside. The swan
was stable and firmly on the ground. Then did this several times, investigating every-
they placed some long, golden straw inside thing, entering, and then exiting. There
and moved away. After surveying their work, was plenty of room to turn around, and the
rechecking the straw and the general placement straw was deep and soft and smelled like
of the hutch, they pushed the wheelbarrow— the long-gone summer fields.
now much less squeaky since being relieved of
its load—back up the field to the farm. In a little while, he stepped toward the
goose, raised his neck up as far as it would
The birds stayed at the farther end of the go and scanned the horizon. This was a sig-
lake that night. After a few days, when the nal that it was his turn to keep watch, and
little house didn’t move and the children did the goose now explored every inch of the
not reappear, they began to swim closer and hutch, inside and out, just as the swan had
closer, and soon went up to investigate it. done. Once their curiosity was satisfied, they
The big goose strutted around and around returned to the lake to feed and swim. That
the hutch, his long neck held high, survey- night, they rested in their usual nesting spot,
ing for any sign of the kids or other dangers, quite close to the tiny barn.
while the swan investigated all around the
to be continued
30
Things to See from
a Bedroom Window
by Beverly McLoughland
One puzzle-piece
Of curtained sky,
A flock of wild geese
Flying by,
A wedge of moon,
Stars, small and bright—
All the dark, deep mystery
Of the night.
text © 2020 by Beverly McLoughland
31
Part 2 Fifteen-year-old runaway Hank Cobb
joins up with Chief Sunrise, a Seminole
by Timothy Tocher Indian determined to try out as pitcher for
the New York Giants’ 1919 season. Before
heading north, Hank and Chief stop off in
Gainesville, Florida, where Hank is recruited
to play shortstop for a traveling team. The
manager, Mr. Jameson, sends Hank and Chief
to the hotel to clean up before the afternoon
game against the locals. After Hank takes a
bath, Chief gives him a killer shampoo to get
rid of “cooties.” Then he hands Hank his uni-
form—a jersey with the team name Bloomers,
a gray flannel skirt, and a blond wig.
A girl?” Hank howls. “I’m supposed to be
a girl?”
“You leave this room in uniform or in
your underwear,” Chief answers.
MY FAC E BURN E D with anger and shame,
but I snatched the bloomers from the floor
and pulled them on. I think Chief knew that
if he so much as cracked a smile, I’d be at his
throat again. “I’ll wait outside,” he said and
set the wig on the floor.
I pulled on the skirt and buttoned it up.
It reached my knees, and when I bent down,
I could see that a flash of lacy bloomer would
show every time I moved. The wig was another
torture. That shampoo had left me feeling like
I had combed my hair with a blowtorch. The
wig ensured that none of the heat could escape.
I clenched my fists and walked to the door,
praying that no one would be in the hallway.
But that made no sense. In a few minutes I’d
be playing ball in front of hundreds of people.
32 Illustrated by Meredith Johnson
I pulled the door open. Chief kept a temper flared. Jameson placed a hand on my
straight face. I think he could see the murder back and kept me moving forward.
in my eyes. He dropped a baseball cap on my
head and used pins to fasten it to the wig. My teammates were already on the field
warming up, so I swallowed hard and trotted
There was a pair of baseball shoes on the out to shortstop. Before I could spit, Pinky
floor, and I picked them up and carried them ripped one at me. I snared it and fired over to
through the lobby. I knew better than to walk first. A little whooshing sound came from the
across the wooden floor wearing spikes. The crowd when they saw my throwing arm.
clerk ignored us as we passed the desk. I guess
he’d seen it all by now. I would never have believed it, but in
five minutes I didn’t care about the skirt. I
Jameson was waiting on the porch. I was playing on the same field where the big
flopped down in a rocker, pulled on the leaguers had played. I wondered what kind of
shoes, and tied the laces. It dawned on me squad Gainesville would have. Jameson was
that those women and girls I had seen before right. I’d better concentrate on the team I had
were my new teammates. to play against.
Chief accepted a set of clothes and went Warmups done, we ran into the dugout.
back for his turn in the tub. I took a deep breath I tried to ignore the hooting and jeering of
and started up the street with Jameson. A steady the fans. The second baseman sat next to me,
stream of wagons, cars, and trucks stirred up a near enough for our legs to touch. She leaned
dust cloud that kept the stares down. over to whisper, “Sit with your legs closed.
You’re wearing a skirt.”
“Hornsby did it, you know,” Jameson said.
“Did what?” I closed them so fast, my knees banged
“Played for the Bloomers.” together, and I could feel my face redden.
My head snapped up. Rogers Hornsby
was one of the best young players in the “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said, hold-
National League. “Are you serious?” I asked. ing her glove in front of her face to hide her
Jameson nodded. “The secret is to con- words. “My brother is pitching.”
centrate on who you’re playing against, not
who you’re playing with.” She used her glove to point down the
“What would you have done if I hadn’t bench. From three seats away I could see the
turned up?” I asked. Adam’s apple bulge from our pitcher’s neck. It
“I’d have asked one of the town girls to made me feel better.
volunteer and stuck her out in right field. But
we usually lose when I have to do that.” Pinky pinned a piece of paper to the wall,
As we walked through the gate, a fan and my double-play partner went to read the
yelled, “Good luck today, darlin’,” and my batting order. “Cobb?” she asked when she
returned.
I nodded.
“Sally Jameson. You’re leading off.”
33
IN THIS STORY, BUGS RUBES IS A A RESIN BAG HOLDS RESIN, WHICH
ARE FANS! WEIRD. MEW! SLANG TERM FOR IS STICKY AND HELPS PITCHERS
COUNTRY BOYS. GET A GRIP ON THE BALL.
“Mr. Jameson’s your dad?” first for the Traveling Bloomers, shortstop
She nodded. Henrietta Cobb.”
“I’m Hank,” I offered.
“Not today,” she said with a smile. Try to concentrate after that! The big
As the visiting team, we’d bat first. I went farmer on the mound gunned one right down
over to the bat rack. There were four scarred the middle, and I took it for strike one. The
bats, and I pulled out the smallest one. Then crowd’s roar woke me up. “Be careful, sweetie!
I knelt on the top step of the dugout to watch That ball could hurt you,” one of the local
the Gainesville pitcher, a tall right-hander, wits called.
warm up. All he had was a fastball. Lots of
bush leaguers are like that. They throw the The Gainesville third baseman turned his
ball past a few local boys and figure that’s all head toward the stands to acknowledge what
they’ll need. They don’t bother to develop a great line that had been. So when the next
another pitch. pitch came in, I pushed a bunt right at him. I
The Gainesville players whipped the ball ran for all I was worth, my bloomers making
around the infield. Jameson climbed over the little scratchy noises with each stride. My foot
railing from his seat by first base and walked slapped against the base a split second before
onto the field. He held a megaphone in front the ball smacked into the first baseman’s glove.
of his face and announced, “The Traveling The umpire hesitated, then bellowed, “Safe!”
Bloomers are honored to play in the up-and-
coming community of Gainesville, Florida. A chorus of boos rang out from the
I’ve scoured this great land of ours to assem- stands. Those rubes called the ump every
ble my squad. Each young lady is that rare name in the book as he walked out to the
combination of beauty and talent guaranteed pitcher’s mound. With me on base, he would
to delight and entertain. Let’s play ball!” stand behind the pitcher to call balls and
I took the opportunity to check out the strikes. The pitcher slammed down the resin
stands. They were already half full, and more bag and muttered something the ump didn’t
people were streaming in. Out in the “colored” like. The umpire glared until he turned and
section in right field, families passed picnic toed the pitching rubber.
baskets back and forth. Most of the white bugs
were men, and their mouths were busy with I took my lead toward second. The
cigars and chaws of tobacco rather than food. infielders crept in. Sally was up, and every-
The umpire echoed Jameson’s, “Play ball!” one knew she would be bunting to put me in
and I stepped up to the plate. scoring position. The instant the first base-
I was digging in when Jameson’s voice man left the bag, I headed for second.
boomed through the megaphone, “Batting
I took one peek and saw the ball rolling
toward first. No way would they come after
me. I had too good of a jump. A play Ty
Cobb had pulled in Atlanta flashed through
my mind, and I sped right on by second base.
IN THOSE DAYS MUCH OF AMERICA WAS
RACIALLY SEGREGATED, WITH SEPARATE SOMETIMES THINGS DO
AREAS FOR WHITES AND PEOPLE OF COLOR. CHANGE, EVEN BASEBALL.
34 MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL DID NOT EVEN
ALLOW BLACK PLAYERS UNTIL 1947.
Pinky was coaching third, and he let loose a he hadn’t missed a meal in a dog’s age. He
stream of curses. But I was committed now. couldn’t throw the ball hard enough to break
a window, but he could make it do tricks.
I dug for third with everything I had, One pitch would dart down and away; the
my eyes fixed on the third baseman. He had next would shoot in on the batter’s fists. As
gotten back to the bag and was waiting for the Gainesville batters got more and more
the first baseman’s throw. He dipped slightly frustrated, they swung harder and harder. I
toward home, so I slid for the outfield side almost felt sorry for them.
of the bag. He swiped at me but missed as I
skidded past. I wrapped both arms around I did feel sorry for our catcher. She was a
the base and clung for dear life. solidly built girl who looked like she had done
many a hard day’s work in the fields, despite
“Safe!” shouted the ump. The bugs Jameson’s boast about the beauty of his play-
erupted in a frenzy. ers. “Janet’s” pitches were as hard to handle
as they were to hit, and more than once the
The wit who had been taunting me game was stopped while she shook the pain
switched to yelling at the Gainesville third out of a mangled finger.
baseman. “Are you trying to dance with that
girl or tag her out?” I was having so much fun that I forgot
about being embarrassed. The Gainesville
The third baseman didn’t seem to find players hit squibs off the end of the bat and
the fellow nearly as funny when he was yell- dinks off the handle, so I was busy at short.
ing at him. Our pitcher, Sally’s brother, was
up. “Janet” Jameson, his father called him. In the third inning, a Gainesville batter
He managed to hit a fly ball to center, and I hit a foul pop behind third. I tore over there,
tagged up and scored without having to slide. but the ball landed in the bleachers out of
my reach. A bug had the ball for about ten
“Janet” turned out to be quite a pitcher.
Like his dad, he was short and looked as if
35
seconds. Then a giant hand reached out for I was desperate and doing it for one day.
it. The bug saw the size of the man that went “Janet” did it all season long. Even my old
with it and handed the ball back. The big fel- man had never pulled anything that low.
low turned and flipped the ball to me, and I
did a double take. The stands shook from stomping feet. The
bugs yelled insults. The count went full, and
I had forgotten all about Chief. Here he “Janet” threw a honey of a curve that came in
was in clean clothes, his hair straight and high but dropped as it crossed the plate. The
shiny, selling Bloomers’ programs in the stands. batter checked his swing, threw down his bat,
Baseballs were expensive, and games were often and started toward first. The umpire began to
delayed if a bug refused to return a foul ball. raise his right arm to call strike three. But the
Not too many people were going to argue with roaring crowd made him reconsider. He sig-
someone as big as Chief. I guess that’s what naled ball four, and the score was tied.
Jameson had meant about him being useful.
“Janet” got so mad that he tore off his
Sally was a marvel at second. She played cap and threw it on the ground. He had for-
so smoothly that I kept studying her in the gotten that his wig was attached. The crowd
dugout to make sure she was really a girl. fell silent for a second, then let out a roar of
But her skin looked too soft and she smelled hatred. Players from the Gainesville dugout
too good, even when she was sweating, to came streaming onto the field. The base run-
be a boy. I wondered what it would be like ners on second and third took advantage of
to play beside her every day. After the games the confusion and raced home. I was frozen
we could sip sodas and talk baseball. Then in place, until Chief wrapped a huge arm
I remembered I was wearing a skirt. I must around me and led me back to the dugout.
look like a complete idiot to her.
Sally and the other girls joined us one
Things went smoothly all the way to the by one as we watched Pinky and “Janet”
eighth inning, the Bloomers clinging to that duke it out with the angry players. One of
1–0 lead. Then the Gainesville batters got the Gainesville players grabbed our big third
smart enough to let a few pitches go by, and baseman. But he must have felt something
the umpire started calling the close ones balls. that convinced him she was a genuine girl,
“Janet” was falling behind the hitters and because he let her go.
having trouble with his temper.
The bugs were screaming their anger,
A bloop hit and a couple of walks loaded except for the folks out in right field. They
the bases with two down. Mr. Jameson came were chuckling to each other as they packed
out and talked to his son while the bugs up their picnic baskets. Since none of their
hooted and yelled for blood. What do you men had been embarrassed and deceived, I
say to your boy when you’ve got him dressed guess it was easier for them to see the humor
up like a girl in front of five hundred people? in the situation.
36
The town constable were wearing matching outfits. But curiosity
rode through the gate on got me to ask a question.
the back of a big, black
mare. Jameson handed him “What happened to your regular shortstop?”
the megaphone, and he “Actually, I’m the shortstop. Our second
forced his way through the baseman ran off with one of the Jacksonville
crowd until the horse stood players after our last game. Walked right out
in the middle of the pitch- of her contract.”
er’s mound. “Janet” got up “What will you do now?”
off the ground—muddy “Papa has scouts who’ll find someone
and with the beginnings eventually. He’d sign you up for the season
of a shiner. Pinky had kept despite those knobby knees,” she teased.
his feet, but blood was “We’ll be crossing the country.”
streaming from his nose. “No, my skirt-wearing days are over,” I
Jameson brought him a rag said. “Chief and I are trying to catch up with
and calmed him down. McGraw and the Giants.”
By now we were on the porch. When she
The constable put the megaphone to had pulled off her spikes and straightened
his lips. “Game’s over, folks. Final score: up, Sally squeezed my hand. She said, “Good
Gainesville 3, Bloomers 1. Anybody else starts luck, Henrietta,” and ran inside before I
a ruckus spends the night in jail.” could react.
“It’s only the eighth inning,” I
complained.
Chief shrugged and said, “If I were you,
I’d concentrate on getting out of here with
your wig on.”
That sounded like good advice. We stayed
on the bench until the crowd thinned. Then
Chief walked Sally and me back to the hotel.
I asked her if she’d be in the dining room for
dinner.
She smiled and said, “I’ll be there, but we
can’t sit together unless you come in uniform.
My father’s not going to admit that he snuck
another ringer onto the team.”
My face turned red, and I looked away.
First time I felt attracted to a girl, and we
A RINGER IS SOMEBUGGY PERFORMING MEW! NICE WIG, CRICKET, BUT WE 37
UNDER A FASLE IDENTITY. KNOW IT’S YOU.
GREAT! WE YAY!
ADD THEM GET MORE
I’VE GOT SHOULDN’T WE WE HAVE EVERY DAY!
SOME MORE TO THE PUT THEM ON TO READ WE’LL NEVER
READER PILE. THE SHELVES? FINISH THEM
SUGGESTIONS THEM
FOR YOU. FIRST! ALL.
When You Mr. Daniels and her new friends, Ally finds a clue about
Reach Me begins to learn that she is not stupid. her once knowing a
man who might be
by Rebecca Stead Kitten his father. Deaf, liv-
via cricketmagkids.com ing in a museum se-
Miranda lives in cretly, with no fam-
New York in the Level 13 (A Slacker Novel) ily still alive, Ben is
1970s. Her best determined to find
friend got punched by Gordon Korman his father from a
and now won’t bookmark with an address on it.
talk to her, and Cameron Boxer is a slacker who just
she meets a boy who’s obsessed with wants to be a gamer. While he is at a Alexis Weinstein, age 9
time travel. One day she receives a P.A.G. (Positive Action Group) fund- Suffern, New York
note that says, “I will not be myself raiser, he stumbles
when I reach you.” Then later, “I am upon a video Sabriel (Old Kingdom, Book 1)
coming to save your friend’s life, and game, which he
my own.” You’ll just have to read it to buys. When he by Garth Nix
find out the rest. starts to play, he
realizes it is dif- When Gabriel gets a sack from her
Josh H., age 11 ferent. It is the father, she embarks on a quest to save
via cricketmagkids.com old version, which the Old Kingdom and find her father.
was banned in She arrives in the Old Kingdom to
Fish in a Tree forty-seven states! find it crumbling and many Charter
The government did not know if they Stones broken. As
by Lynda Mullaly Hunt had destroyed all of them. Can Cam well as that, she
beat the forbidden Level 13? finds that because
Fish in a Tree is she went to school
about a girl named Brian Krantz, age 10 in Ancelstierre she
Ally, who always Montebello, New York barely knows any-
has been consid- thing about the Old
ered dumb because Wonderstruck Kingdom. As she
she is unable to travels through it,
read. Ally is bul- by Brian Selznick she finds companions and things she
lied in school and always feels like she should have known about before.
isn’t good enough. But then she gets If you like mysteries and suspense,
a new teacher, Mr. Daniels, who sees this book is perfect for you. Ben has Aislinn Marshall, age 10
who she truly is—smart and amazing, lost his mother at a young age and Los Alamos, New Mexico
despite her dyslexia. With the help of never had a father. In his mother’s
bedroom one night he accidentally
Do you have a favorite book? Email your review (75 words or less) to [email protected] or mail to
Cricket Readers Recommend, P.O. Box 300, Peru, IL 61354. Please include your name, age, and address.
Visit Cricket Readers Recommend online at www.cricketmagkids/books
38 or Blab About Books at www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox.
ARCELA SAT BESIDE her father, by Rose Edwards
Gaius, as their carrying chair jolted up Mallia Marcia kissed Arcela. It was like 39
the hill to the temple of Mercury. She had being pecked by a chicken. “And you must
tried to convince him to take the ox cart, remember my son, Publius Titius Primus.”
but Gaius explained that you couldn’t
collect a new wife in an ox cart; it would A boy with a face spotted with pimples
be rude. The carrying chairs were showy and a garish red handkerchief tied around his
and not that comfortable, but they were neck scowled at Arcela.
what well-off people used.
“I’m not going to kiss her,” he said.
“Mallia Marcia has come all the way
from Rome,” her father reminded Arcela. GALLIA BELGICA WAS
“We must greet her properly.” A ROMAN PROVINCE IN
PARTS OF WHAT IS TODAY
Arcela still wasn’t sure how she felt
about having a new mother. Her own NORTHERN FRANCE,
mother had died when she was little, and it BELGIUM, AND GERMANY.
had been just her and her father ever since.
She didn’t think they needed anyone else.
As soon as Arcela stepped out of the
chair, she saw them. Mallia Marcia may
have come all the way to Gallia Belgica
to join her new husband, but everything
about her was Roman. She wore a palla,
a fine wool veil, pulled over her crimped
brown hair, and she looked down her
hooked nose at the bustling crowds around
her.
Gaius had a silly grin on his face. He
waved his arms. “My darling!” he shouted.
“Over here!”
Mallia Marcia startled and people
turned to look.
Arcela sighed. Her father was a kind
man, but too enthusiastic sometimes.
“My darling, it’s so good to see you
again,” Gaius said as he kissed his new
wife. “This is my daughter, Hirria Arcela.”
Illustrated by Daniele Dickmann
text © 2020 by Rose Edwards, art © 2020 by Daniele Dickmann
MAY 15 WAS KNOWN BEWARE THE IDES OF A CADUCEUS IS A WINGED STAFF ENTWINED
AS THE IDES OF MAY. MAY—ER, MARCH. BY TWO SERPENTS. MERCURY CARRIED ONE
AS MESSENGER OF THE GODS.
Arcela bit her tongue. Fine by me, she shopkeepers thanked him for bringing them
thought. customers with full purses.
Gaius swooped in for a kiss before Primus Arcela and the others joined the line
could stop him. Primus pretended to be sick. of people at the shrine. When it was their
turn, Gaius and Mallia Marcia offered gifts
“Well,” said Gaius. “Let’s pay our respects of incense to be burned in front of the god’s
to Mercury and thank him for getting you statue. The god looked very dashing in his
here safely. And you arrived on the day of his golden-winged sandals and helmet, his cadu-
festival! That has to be lucky.” ceus in his left hand. Arcela held her hands
out, palms up, and thanked Mercury for
They walked up to the temple gate. It was looking after her father’s wine business and
the Ides of May, the fresh green middle of keeping his shipments safe. She tried to feel
spring. It was also Mercuralia, the festival of thankful for the arrival of her new family, but
Mercury. Travelers were coming to thank the it was hard. Primus’s scowling face showed he
god for keeping them safe on the roads, while wasn’t too pleased either.
AN ACOLYTE IS AN ASSISTANT AUGUSTA TREVERORUM WAS THE
IN A RELIGIOUS CEREMONY. ROMAN NAME FOR THE MODERN
Arcela rolled her eyes, and then glanced GERMAN CITY OF TRIER.
guiltily at the god’s statue. The god didn’t
seem to have noticed, but a young acolyte “What’s so important about it anyway?”
holding a jug of sacred wine grinned at her. asked Arcela.
“Why don’t you show Primus the “It’s my team’s colors,” he wailed. “Papa
view?” Gaius asked after they had finished always supported the Reds. He wore it when
their prayers. “We’ll meet you back at the he went to the chariot races.”
chairs.”
Arcela had heard about the famous char-
The view from the temple was Arcela’s iot races in Rome. In the Circus Maximus
favorite. She led Primus to the terrace that four teams—the Whites, the Reds, the
looked out over the valley. The Mosella River Greens, and the Blues—raced in furious
shone silver, the vineyards drew green lines competition around a great oval track. The
down the hillsides, and in the distance were races were very exciting and very dangerous.
the towers of Augusta Treverorum, the most Charioteers drove their horses with the reins
important city in Gallia Belgica. wrapped around their waists, sometimes mak-
ing their rivals crash in the desire to win for
“Who lives there?” sneered Primus. “Pig their team.
herders? That’s not a real city.”
If the handkerchief had belonged to
“It is,” said Arcela, stung. Primus’s father, Arcela could understand why
“Rome is the best city in the world,” said he would be upset to lose it. But she was still
Primus. “It’s a hundred times bigger than angry about what he’d said about her home
that. I bet Mama will get tired of your stupid and her own father.
father and take me home soon.”
Arcela scowled back. “I hope she does,” Serves him right, she thought, although
she said. “I’ve never met such a rude, pimply she felt a little guilty when she saw how des-
boy in my life. It’s a good thing you took that perately he searched.
red handkerchief off. It was making you look
even spottier!” Suddenly a cry went up.
Primus suddenly looked worried. He put “Mercury’s sandals! Mercury’s sandals
his hand to his neck, where the red handker- have been stolen!”
chief had been. Immediately the temple was in an uproar.
“Where is it?” he said. “What have you Priests rushed to and fro, and any hopes of
done with it?” finding Primus’s lost treasure were gone.
“I haven’t done anything,” Arcela Ignoring his protests, Arcela dragged
informed him. “I thought you took it off.” Primus away from the crowds. She was head-
Primus began searching the terrace ing to the back gate when something caught
frantically. her eye. By a small stone shed built into
the temple walls stood the acolyte who had
grinned at her. In his hands was something
red.
41
Primus saw it, too. He hills. But you Romans came and brought
pulled away from her and ran your gods with you. I got lumped in with
over to the boy. Mercury because we both care for travelers
and shopkeepers.” His smile widened. “And
“What are you doing thieves,” he added, wickedly. “Now he gets
with my handkerchief?” he all the thank-yous and offerings, and I get
demanded, and then gasped. nothing.”
Arcela ran up behind “What did you used to get?” Arcela asked.
him. In the folds of the red She’d heard of gods appearing to humans, but
cloth were— in the stories they were more . . . impressive.
“Mercury’s sandals!” said “Wine and a fine rooster,” Visucius said,
Primus. “You’re the thief!” smacking his lips. “But not anymore. Oh
no. So, I thought I’d steal my stepbrother’s
Arcela frowned. Some-
thing was not quite right. The
sandals on the statue were just
leather straps with gold-painted
wings. But these were proper
sandals, and the wings seemed
to be real golden feathers. She
blinked. She could have sworn
they just fluttered a little, all
by themselves.
The acolyte grinned. He
was a few years older than
they were, with the fair hair of the local tribes
and an upturned nose.
“You got me,” he said cheerfully.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that steal-
ing from a god is dangerous?” said Arcela.
“I’m not stealing,” said the boy, “just play-
ing a trick on my stepbrother.”
Primus and Arcela forgot their disagree-
ment. They looked at each other, eyebrows
raised.
“Who are you?” Primus asked.
“My name is Visucius,” said the boy. His
hazel eyes sparkled. “These used to be my
42
VEXED MEANS ANGRY MEW. AND WE HAVE IMPUDENCE IS DISRESPECT.
OR ANNOYED. I KNOW ALL SUFFERED ARROGANCE IS PRIDE AND
YOUR WRATH.
HOW THAT FEELS! SELF-IMPORTANCE.
sandals and teach him a lesson. His father, He handed Primus the handkerchief.
Jupiter, gave them to him, and he’ll be furious Primus looked like he was about to say
if he loses them. Mercury will be hard put something rude. Arcela kicked him on the
to fulfill his duties without them, and on his ankle. Primus glared at her.
own festival, too! Maybe then he’ll see what “Thank you,” he said to the god.
it’s like to be forgotten.” “And what do you want me to do with
these?” Visucius asked Arcela, holding out the
Primus snorted. “Mercury is far more golden-winged sandals.
important than you,” he said. “Of course, a Arcela gulped. The little wings were
Roman god should get more—” indeed flapping by themselves.
“That’s your choice,” she said firmly. “We
Arcela clapped her hand over his mouth. only wanted the handkerchief. But . . . ”
She’d seen a gleam in Visucius’s eyes that she Visucius raised his eyebrows. “But?”
didn’t like. It probably didn’t do to insult any Arcela watched Primus carefully tying his
god, no matter how minor they were. father’s red handkerchief around his neck.
“Family can be annoying,” she said. “But
“Pardon my brother,” she said politely. maybe you should talk to him, instead of tak-
“He just arrived here. May I make a sugges- ing his things. If you understand each other,
tion? If I promise to ask my father to put up maybe you’ll like each other better.”
a shrine to you and make you offerings at the Visucius laughed, and as he laughed he
same time as we sacrifice to Mercury, will you dissolved into thin air, until only his laughter
give us back the handkerchief?” was left.
Maybe I’ ll try that, said a voice in Arcela’s
Visucius looked her over quizzically. ear. But I won’t give the sandals back just yet.
“You’re one of mine, aren’t you?” he said. It’ ll be fun to watch him look for them, just
for a bit. Wine and a rooster, remember! You
“My mother’s people were the Treveri promised.
tribe,” Arcela said, “but my father’s were
Roman. I’m both.” GAIUS AND MALLIA Marcia were looking
anxious when Arcela and Primus ran up to
“Both, you say?” Visucius narrowed his them.
eyes. Arcela tried to seem calm, as if she
dealt with gods every day, but she was hold- “Where have you two been?” said Gaius.
ing her breath. Even Primus kept quiet. They “Nowhere,” said Arcela. “Just showing my
both knew stories about the terrible things new brother the sights.”
gods did to humans when they were vexed: Primus mimed being sick, but she could
the weaver Arachne turned into a spider by tell he was pleased.
Minerva for her arrogance, or the hunter
Acteon transformed into a deer by Diana for
his impudence.
Then Visucius grinned.
“Very well,” he said. “Here you are.”
ARCELA IS RIGHT. FAMILY CAN SIGH AND WE’RE JUST ONE BIG
BE ANNOYING SOMETIMES. (SIGH) HAPPY FAMILY...
43
ROMAN HOUSES TYPICALLY INCLUDED A FAMILY
SHRINE, WITH PAINTINGS OR SMALL STATUES OF
HOUSEHOLD GODS AND ANCESTORS.
“And what did you think of them?”
Mallia Marcia asked Primus.
Primus touched his hand to the red
handkerchief at his neck and looked at
Arcela.
“It’s not like Rome,” he said, “but I’ll get
used to it.”
Arcela rolled her eyes, but she was
smiling.
“Come on,” said Gaius, holding out his
hand to help Mallia Marcia into the carrying
chair. “We still have to add your ancestors
to the family shrine at my villa. Doing it on
Mercuralia will be extra lucky.”
“That reminds me,” said Arcela. “When
we get home, there’s someone else we
need to add to the shrine.”
Gaius looked between Primus
and Arcela. “Who?”
Arcela smiled. “We’ll tell you on
the way.”
Author’s Note Wherever the Romans expanded their empire, such as when Julius Caesar
conquered the northern part of Gaul in 50 BC, they worked out which local gods corre-
sponded roughly to which Roman gods. Thunder and lightning? Probably Jupiter, king of the
gods. God of war? That must be Mars. Mercury was god of traders and travelers, so whoever
the local god was who took care of that, he would be combined with Mercury. Because one
of Mercury’s first acts as a child was to steal a herd of sacred cows from another god, he was
also the god of thieves.
By the time of Gaius and Arcela in the second century AD, the local Celtic tribe, the
Treveri, were Romanized and would have spoken Latin. This was a relatively peaceful part of
the empire, far enough from the Rhine (the border with the unconquered Germanic tribes)
that there wouldn’t be regular cross-border raids. The Mosel River not only provided a good
environment for vineyards like Gaius’s estate, but also made transportation of goods via river
much easier for merchants, so trade was strong. Although Augusta Treverorum was a far cry
from Mediterranean Rome, it was not nearly so bad as Primus thinks it is.
44
WHAT
DRAMA!
WHAT
TALENT!
WAIT FOR ME!
WINNERS
APRIL 2020 STORY CONTEST
On the Job
First prize 10 and under First prize 11 and up I climb onto the saddle. Tide converses briefly with
my parents before climbing on behind me.
Cora Barclay, age 10 Amara Campanini, age 13
Seattle, WA Brevard, NC I’ll come back for you, I silently vow, my parents
growing steadily smaller as we rise into the air. I swear.
Sea Turtle Time A Future Fighter
With this promise, we fly away into the orange-
The morning was dark and cold. Stars winked down “We can’t let her leave.” Mother’s voice. streaked sunrise.
from the sky and a half moon shone down. “How can we stop her?” Father.
“I don’t know. It’s just—” Mother’s voice catches, a Second prize 10 and under
“Varrow, wake up,” Gramps whispered, shaking me sob issuing from her throat. “She’s tough, but how can
awake. “It’s sea turtle time.” she survive this?” Ania Sarosiek, age 10
“Aela knew the risks. She chose this path.” Chestnut Hill, MA
I rubbed my eyes and took in the shadows that sur- I push away from my parents’ door and go to my
rounded us. It was so dark that I couldn’t see my bed. bedroom, not wanting to hear anything else. My parents Those Shoes
Then, a sudden jolt of electricity shot through me as I don’t understand me. We’ve lived in poverty my entire
remembered. Sea turtle time. I had forgotten. life, in the slums of our kingdom. I’ve been looking for a Every time I have walked to school in the past,
way out since I can remember. there they are in the mall window, staring me in the
Gramps and I pulled on our heavy waterproof boots Such a way came in the form of Aaron Tide, a face. Those perfect, perfect shoes, with perfect, perfect
over our pajamas and heaved rain jackets on our shoul- desperate man. For years he looked for an apprentice stripes running down them. Everyone who mattered had
ders. The front door creaked as I pushed it open and ran Dragon Fighter. Dragon fighting is dangerous and not a them, from the cheerleaders to the principal to the foot-
out onto the beach, Gramps not far behind. popular sport anymore, as everyone’s favorite Fighters ball stars.
kept perishing. The pay, however, is incredible. After a
I gasped. Thousands of baby sea turtles, as far as the while, I could earn enough to journey back here and res- Every time I ask Grandma if I can get them, she says
eye could see, were stretched out upon the soft sand. cue my parents, something I’ve always wanted to do. the same answer. Those words are now etched into my
But Gramps and I weren’t there to watch. We had a job. Tide was a Fighter himself, until nearly fatal injures mind, as if with a needle. “You have to buy them with
Carefully, we made our way through the mess of broken made him retire from the arena. He wanted his legacy your own money, chica,” she tells me. “We don’t have
shells and little sea turtles in search of those that needed to live on. Finding no one in the kingdom to take on the room for wants in this familia. You know that, Gabriella.”
help. job, he turned to us, offering riches in exchange for an
apprenticeship. I agreed, even though dragon fighting So I tried to earn money. I applied for a job at a small
I spotted one right away. A baby sea turtle was has come to be associated with almost certain death. restaurant that had a smiling sun hanging on the door. I
flipped on its back, unable to get right side up. Reaching As dawn approaches, I take one last look around my was told to wait tables and I would be able to keep all the
my hand down, I gently picked up the fragile baby and room, feeling no particular affection for it. Mother opens tips I earned. I would be rich! On my first try, I saw another
carried it down to the waves, where it crawled into the my door. “He’s coming.” waitress balancing six plates all over her arms and I decided
ocean, the tide carrying it away. I walk outside, standing with my parents until a tall, to try the same. Long story short, I was fired on the spot.
African-American man missing half his leg and quite a
“Nice job, Varrow.” Gramps smiled, his beetle-black few fingers lands astride a speckled white dragon. He “Gabriella Flores, get out of my restaurant!” the owner
eyes twinkling and his mouth stretching into a smile dismounts carefully and limps toward us. yelled at me. I could swear that as I walked out of the res-
beneath his beard. I felt a rush of pride and spent the “Mr. Tide,” Father says. “A pleasure.” taurant in defeat, the sun on the door smirked at me.
next couple of hours working twice as hard because of it. Tide nods, hobbling toward me. “Aela,” he says, his
voice surprisingly soft. ”Are you ready?” The next thing I tried was dog walking. It always
By 7:00 the last sea turtles were crawling into the I nod. He takes me to the dragon. “Hop on.” seems so easy in the movies. I picked up a Great Dane
water and Gramps and I were slumped over in the soft named Tiny, a Pomeranian named Snowflake, a husky
sand, exhausted. But proud. It was a job done. named Tulip, and a Yorkie named Flex. It didn’t go quite
as planned. Tiny scared Snowflake, and she wound her
As the sun rose and people began to wake up, no leash around Tulip, and in the end Flex was the only dog
one in the world would know that the most beautiful staying calm. Even though dog walking was chaotic, at
part of nature had happened right under their noses as least I made some money.
they slept.
45
I walked to the mall with my best friend, Winnie. The caribou herd ahead of us suddenly veers sharply. her second day on the job. As a weaver in the dress
When we got there, I finally realized that I didn’t really The Pack splits in two, both sides driving the herd until factory, she knew the importance of her job, but circum-
want Those Shoes. I just wanted to be like everyone else! it begins to slow. The signal passes to fall back. This is a stances were dreadful. The room was stuffy, and the
I decided to get something I really wanted. trick, of course; designed to put them at ease. The cari- male owners cruel. Thelma knew she was very lucky, as
bou slow to a walk and finally begin to graze, ears flicking countless other women had applied for this job to sup-
I named my new hamster Cashew, or Cashy for and eyes dull. port their families.
short, to represent all the hard work and money it took
to buy her. We sink into the long grasses. I peer between the Thelma decided her break was long over and sat
thick tangle of green, scanning the oblivious herd for a down to resume her weaving cloth. As she began to
Second prize 11 and up weak member. My gaze falls on an old female, flies buzz- finger the thick thread over and under that which she had
ing ceaselessly around her graying face. She is sick; I can already finished, two whispering women caught her ear.
Molly Branham, age 14 tell by her limping gait and streaming eyes.
Versailles, KY “Did you hear about the strike?” one asked.
I signal to the she-wolf closest to me, my eyes flit- “Of course, but what of it?” said the other.
The Hunt ting to and from the sick female. She nods, her penetrat- “Well, I was thinking of going!”
ing gaze trained closely on our quarry. A silent signal Thelma stopped. She had heard of strikers in the
Tracking the slightest disturbance of a stalk of dew- flickers through the Pack, and they agree: the sick female newspaper, with headlines like: “Rambunctious Women
shimmering grass. Detecting the sour scents of weakness, is the perfect target. A thrill of pleasure courses through Take a Stand” or “Mary Harper, Tired of Low Wages.”
sickness, heart-pounding terror. Giving the imperceptible me, satisfaction making me giddy. But going to a strike, striking could mean a lost job. On
signal to leap, bite, kill. This is my new job as a Hunter, the other hand, Thelma’s wages couldn’t give her family
serving my Pack. To live as a wolf is to run free; to howl We rush forward in a tide of pelts, overtaking our prey much food. So tomorrow, she would strike.
blissfully to a star-dazzled, raven-black sky. Essentially, to and bringing her down. I deliver the killing bite, feeling The following morning was like any other. Thelma
live as a wolf is to feel the thrill of the chase, the joy of the elated as the pack congratulates me for a job well done. sat at her weaving perch and out of the corner of her eye
hunt, the overwhelming knowledge that you are serving a saw a slender woman beckon a circle of ladies. Thelma
beautiful purpose to nourish and strengthen the Pack. Third prize 10 and under slinked behind.
The strike had dozens more people than Thelma
This is the feeling coursing through my bones as I Isla Bower, age 9 presumed. Although she had no sign, her cry was bigger
become part of a hundred legs pounding to the beat of a Pittsburgh, PA than words could conceive. A man flung rotten fruit from
single heart. The spirits of our ancestors hover above us, the streets, and an egg hit Thelma at waist height. Hours
urging us faster with a breath of exhilaration. The wind The Risk of a Strike of marching proceeded.
whips through my fur, and my legs are a blur beneath me,
the landscape rushing by. Thelma looked downward at her hands. They were
covered with blood and unfixable cuts, yet it was only
ISN’T THIS GREAT? NO I’VE READ THREE BOOKS WITHOUT WHAT’S FLY N OH, NO– HE MIGRATED! HE HERE WE GO
DUCKING, NO DODGING, NO HAVING TO RUN FOR MY LIFE! THIS WAY? UGLY’S BACK! WAS SUPPOSED TO AGAIN.
HIDING IN THE SHADOWS, STAY MIGRATED!
L P E ND INCOMING!
SHIVERING WITH FEAR... QUIET! IF WE WANT TAKE
SHIVERS, WE’LL READ COVER!
SCARY STORIES.
RIGHT, PUSS?
MEWY DON’T MEWY
LOOK NOW... GULP!
A REVERSE AND A MESS. WE CAN HAVE A O! I WANT
MIGRATION? OR BEACH CLEANUP RIGHT PEACE AND
INVERSE....? THIS EWWWWIE!! HERE, HOW CONVENIENT IET BACK!
IS INTERESTING! ET, DO YOU
N THE BRIGHT IS THAT?
SIDE, IT LOOKS R ME?!
LIKE HE DID AHH!
A GOOD JOB
SOME CLEANING UP
MIGRATION. HE THE BEACH.
BOUNCED RIGHT
BACK—WITH ME MEWY
ALL HIS FRIENDS! MIGRATE.
46
In a moment though, all was quiet. Thelma peeked “You’ll always be in a rush!” Honorable Mention
through windows of people and saw the president stand- In the next ten minutes, you change from a young Louise Butz, age 9, Evanston, IL. Alyssa Hardman, age
ing by the factory owner and the slender woman. “As of woman into an elegant, otherworldly creature. You 13, Caldwell, ID. Emma Hoff, age 8, Bronx, NY. Laura
March 15, 1931, may it be reminded this proclamation switch your worn T-shirt and jeans for a bejeweled cos- Morris, age 10, Spokane, WA. Aimee Rivas Pardee,
has had much thought, all wages at the clothing fac- tume, tights, and a feathery tutu. Your worn sneakers are age 11, PA. Rose Porosoff, age 11, Westport, CT. Molly
tory on Plum Street will be raised 20 percent,” Franklin replaced with satin-covered pointe shoes that fit over Raymond, age 10, Reno, NV. Abbi Serrano, age 11,
announced. The crowd cheered, and Thelma grinned. your feet like a second skin. Finally, you place your unruly Andover, MA. Milla Slaughter, age 13, Yorba Linda, CA.
hair in a neat bun. Kylie Watkins, age 12, Bixby, OK.
Third prize 11 and up “The shoes and costumes you’ll have to wear are
Sara Grace Abernathy, age 13 painful and ridiculous.” To see more winning Cricket League
Kingston, GA You walk out of the shared dressing room and navi- entries, visit our website:
gate the labyrinth of passages, passing stage managers
More Than a Job and choreographers. You have less than a minute until cricketmagkids.com/contests
curtain. You break into an ungainly run in your pointe
As the subway screeches to a halt, you move to the shoes, every eye on you as you race down the halls. You Solution to Crossbird Puzzle
front of the car to be one of the first out. The doors slide run onto the stage and get into position.
open, and you start sprinting across the station to stairs “You’ll never have a moment by yourself!” 29 SD
that lead to street level. Running, you take them two at The curtains open, the spotlight shines down. You
a time, your bag slapping against your side. You weave rise en pointe, lifting yourself up until all your weight is on GR O UPS 28
through crowded streets, muttering apologies every time your toes. Music begins, a soft violin guiding you through
you bump into someone. the choreography. You think back to the years spent NU U E RRO R S
training for this, remembering what people have said
Rounding the corner, you see the theater towering when you announced you aspired to be a professional A 27 26 U
above every other building on the block. You bound up dancer. G
the marble stairs, causing finely dressed theatergoers to “Ballet is so much more than a job!” CE DE LE T E NY
shake their heads in disgust. You slip inside the heavy oak They were right. For you, dance is more than a job. S
doors and ignore the famous lobby, full of rich marble It’s home. O PEN O P M
and ornate, vaulted ceilings. You dash through a door T 23 24 25 22
leading backstage and into a dressing room, panting.
21 19 20
V M PAD E
OI
18 S 17
R
ED I MN
16
EMA I L
15 R 13 14
IM KEY S
12 11 K
FA X E
10 S D 9
PA C OM
78 6 I
ST ON L I NE
AI LO
45 12 3
L A P TOP C URS OR
NEW STORY CONTEST: TIME TRAVEL Acknowledgments continued from inside front cover
Grateful acknowledgment is given to the following publishers and copyright
In “The Traveler” Eddy tells Jamie that he attended the Boston Tea Party, sailed with owners for permission to reprint selections from their publications. All pos-
Christopher Columbus, did experiments with George Washington Carver, and that his cat sible care has been taken to trace ownership and secure permission for each
Caesar followed him home from ancient Persia. What would it be like to travel through selection.
time? Where would you go? For this month’s contest, everybuggy would love to read your “Chief Sunrise, John McGraw, and Me” text © 2008 by Timothy Tocher, art
best story about a time travel adventure. © 2004 by Meredith Johnson.
Photo acknowledgments: 5 (spots) kbecca/Shutterstock.com; 12 (BG) Benjavisa
Will you travel to the long ago past, perhaps to ancient Rome or Egypt? Or even lon- Ruangvaree Art/Shutterstock.com; 31 (BG) Terry Smith Images/Alamy Stock
ger ago—to the time of the dinosaurs? Perhaps you will only go back a few days to study Photo; 39-44 (BG) RRice/Shutterstock.com.
harder for your math test. Or you might travel into the future instead, and maybe meet your
grownup friends—or even yourself! Why do you set out on your time travel adventure? To CRICKET magazine (ISSN 0090-6034) is published 9 times a year, monthly
change history? To help someone in trouble? To retrieve a lost or valuable item? How will except for combined May/June, July/August, and November/December issues,
you prove to someone that you really traveled through time? Will you have any difficulty by Cricket Media, 70 East Lake Street, Suite 800, Chicago, IL 60601. Additional
getting back, to the future? Editorial Office located at 1751 Pinnacle Drive, Suite 600, McLean, VA 22102.
Periodicals postage paid at McLean, VA, and at additional mailing offices. For
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Contest Rules 4. Only one entry per person, please.
1. Your contest entry must be your very own original work. 5. If you want your work returned, enclose a self-addressed, From time to time, CRICKET mails to its subscribers advertisements for other
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zine and on our website. 8. We will publish winning entries in the January 2021 issue 1st Printing Quad
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your entry. and on the Cricket website.
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