by Kir Fox
2. Keep your windows CLOSED and LOCKED at all times.
3. If possible, take refuge in your basement. However, NEVER enter your basement’s basement during Gravity Maintenance.
4. Helmets are not mandatory, but strongly encouraged.
5. Make sure to secure your pets before Gravity Maintenance begins!
Police will be on hot-air balloon patrol to assist any residents who find themselves airborne. If you see someone who needs assistance, do not attempt to rescue them. Remain indoors and call 555-SKY-SAVE to report the incident.
Science was very important in Quincy’s family. Hobbies were very important, too.
His mom studied botany and horticulture. That meant she was very good at gardening.
His other mom studied the physics of sound. That meant she was very good at playing the cello.
His little sister, Roxy, studied geology. That meant she had quite an impressive collection of pebbles for a two-year-old.
Like the rest of his family, Quincy loved science. But he didn’t have a particular favorite field. There were just too many options! So he decided to collect questions. He could always worry about the answers later.
Quincy was very proud of his question collection, and he’d almost lost it. If it wasn’t for Jules, his questions might still be trapped in the frozen yogurt machine. His parents had suggested he give Jules a gift to show his appreciation, and Quincy thought that was a great idea.
But the question was: What kind of gift?
“I guess I could make her a thank-you card,” Quincy mused as he brought Roxy into the kitchen.
Although it was Saturday, Quincy’s parents were doing important work in their basement’s basement. They were too busy to help him come up with gift ideas. But Roxy was always willing to give her opinion. Quincy strapped her into her high chair and placed a handful of pebbles on her table.
“Gwabitty,” Roxy said solemnly. She grabbed a pebble and started examining it. Quincy’s little sister took geology very seriously.
“Hmm…or maybe I could paint her a picture.”
“Meh,” said Roxy.
Quincy sighed. “Yeah, that’s more Runa’s field.” He tapped his fingers on the counter, thinking. Then his gaze fell on his mom’s recipe wheel.
“I know!” Quincy exclaimed. “I’ll bake something! Baked goods make excellent gifts, right?”
Roxy beamed and clapped. Quincy knew his parents would agree, too. After all, baking used lots of principles of chemistry and engineering and biology.
Quincy started flipping through his mom’s recipe wheel. “Persimmon pudding, pickle pie, peppered pralines…oh, pound cake! Jules would like that, wouldn’t she?”
Roxy shrieked happily, and a pebble fell out of her nostril. Quincy took that as a yes. He pulled out the recipe card and looked at all the instructions.
His hands started to sweat.
Quincy felt overwhelmed a lot. Like when he had to write a three-page research paper on the different types of world biomes. Or when he had to build a diorama based on a story about a book-loving girl who could make objects fly with her mind. Or when Ms. Grimalkin had asked him to help write a Bill of Rights for the classroom. Often, those types of projects sent Quincy into a little bit of a panic.
“If you ever feel overwhelmed, just stop and take a nice, deep breath!” his mom would say.
“Then remember to take every project one step at a time!” his other mom would add.
Usually, their advice helped. So Quincy took a nice, deep breath. Then he took the recipe step-by-step.
He assembled all the ingredients on the kitchen table: eggs, flour, sugar, milk, and a whole pound of butter. Then he gathered all the utensils his parents kept in the kitchen for extra-precise measurement: dropper pipettes and graduated cylinders and Erlenmeyer flasks.
Quincy preheated the oven. Then he started beating the butter to make it airy and extra creamy. The texture was almost perfect when he noticed the egg.
It was floating.
Only an inch or two off the table, but still.
Quincy let go of the stirring rod to push his glasses up his nose. Nervously, he watched the egg hover. What would his parents say if they were here? They would probably ask lots of questions. They would form a hypothesis about why an egg might float. Then they would test it to see if their theory was right.
Forming a hypothesis had always been difficult for Quincy. So many questions to answer! But he wanted to try.
“What would cause an egg to float?” he asked Roxy.
She spit a pebble on the floor, then shrugged.
Quincy’s hands were sweating even more now. He started mixing sugar into the creamy butter—until a second egg rose off the table. Then a third. A fourth. Soon, all half-dozen eggs were bobbing peacefully over the flasks of milk.
“What would cause all the eggs to float?” he asked Roxy. But she was too busy shoving pebbles back into her mouth to respond.
Quincy set down the bowl and grabbed one of the floating eggs. When he cracked it against the side of the bowl, the yolk fell…up.
The bowl was rising, too. So was the stirring rod. So were Roxy’s pebbles. So were the flasks of milk and the flour and the pipettes and cylinders and the bowl of fruit on the kitchen table.
So was Quincy!
He looked down at his own feet in surprise. “What might cause me to float?” he asked himself. “And the food? And the pebbles?”
“Oh. Um. Er,” he replied unhelpfully.
This was too stressful. He needed a lab partner. And Quincy’s lab partner was also his friend—maybe even his best friend. Quincy pushed himself off the counter, drifted over to the phone, and dialed.
“Hello?” came a slightly panicked voice.
“Hi, Dante,” Quincy said. He was rising higher and higher off the floor. “I need help coming up with a hypothesis. I’m trying to bake a cake, and—”
“Quincy, I’m so glad you called!” Davy cried. “I’m floating! So’s my bed! And—whoa, and my TV! What’s going on?”
So many excellent questions! But Quincy had to focus on one. “Hmm. What would cause everything in town to float?”
He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and looked around the kitchen. His eyes landed on a notice his parents had stuck on the refrigerator with magnets. And suddenly Quincy had a hypothesis he was quite positive was correct:
“Today is Gravity Maintenance Day!” he exclaimed. “Thanks, Dante. By the way, have you ever baked a cake in a no-gravity environment?”
“I’m tangled up in my ceiling fan,” Davy said. “Why are you asking me about cake?”
“I’m baking one for Jules,” Quincy explained. “I think I might have found a new hobby!”
“That’s great!” Davy sounded like he was on the other end of a long tunnel. “I’ve never baked without gravity. Or done anything without gravity. Oh, there goes my fishing pole…and my swim trunks…and my—”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Quincy said excitedly. “Are you going to Hanger Cliffs Water Park tomorrow? It’s finally reopening!”
Davy’s voice was even more distant now. “What did you say? I dropped my phone! Uh-oh, it’s floating toward my mom’s aquarium, I hope it doesn’t—”
There was a SPLOOSH, and then a dial tone.
Shrugging, Quincy hung up.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten Gravity Maintenance Day. After all, that was why his parents were in their basement’s basement. As scientists, they were part of the team performing maintenance. And much of the maintenance took place in the town’s basements’ basements.
Last night, Quincy had watched them bolt down the furniture in preparation. But he’d been so busy writing down questions like Where did you put the hammer? and Did you remember to close the toilet lid? and Quincy, are you listening to us? that he’d forgotten why his parents were securing everything in the first place.
“No gwabitty,” he told Roxy, whose high chair was bolted safely to the fl
oor.
She gave him a thumbs-up.
Quincy and his sister gazed around at the floating eggs and pebbles and flasks and fruit. Quincy decided he could still bake in a no-gravity situation. He just had to be careful.
He moonwalked over to the front hall closet to get his bike helmet. When he returned to the kitchen, the cake batter had begun rising out of the bowl. It looked like a sugary-buttery hand reaching for the ceiling.
Quincy’s own hands shook a tiny bit. He told himself to stay calm. “One step at a time,” he said.
First, Quincy flipped the bowl over to contain the batter. Next, he grabbed the flask of milk and held it under the bowl so that it flowed up. Just as he finished, something bright yellow smacked him in the forehead.
“Ow!” he cried.
He grabbed the airborne lemon. “This is Jules’s favorite flavor of ice cream,” he told Roxy. “Even though the ice-cream man always gives her storm-cloud sherbet—by accident, of course. Do you think she’d like lemon pound cake?”
Roxy didn’t respond. Her cheeks bulged with pebbles.
“Well, I think she would.”
Quincy floated over to the utensils drawer and—taking great care not to let the knives free—took out the cheese grater. Then he hovered beneath the bowl and started grating the lemon. The bright yellow zest wafted up into the batter. His hands finally stopped shaking. Baking was pretty relaxing.
Grinning, Quincy used the stirring rod to mix the batter before pouring it upside down into a round pan. But when he opened the oven, he hesitated.
“If I put the pan in the oven, the batter will float up to the top and burn,” he thought out loud. “How can I keep the batter in the pan until it’s finished baking?”
He needed to answer the question. Then he would have a hypothesis.
“Nahgwaaah,” Roxy suggested. Her mouth was still full, but Quincy knew what she meant.
“No gravity,” he agreed. “So I need to bake this pound cake upside down.”
Quincy floated on his side. He placed the pan upside down inside the oven. The bottom rested gently on the roof, containing the batter. He closed the oven door and smiled.
So long as Gravity Maintenance lasted for at least another hour, his cake would turn out just fine.
Quincy set the timer, then wrote his recipe on a card:
Lemon Pound Upside-Down Cake.
Bakes best in a no-gravity environment.
“Not a bad start for a new hobby,” he said proudly. “The first original recipe in my collection!”
“Blarp!” Roxy bellowed in approval. Pebbles soared gracefully through the air like a stream of bubbles.
Quincy looked around the kitchen. The ceiling was covered in splotches of milk and splattered eggs. Flour and pebbles floated freely. At least the floor was spotless. He wondered if his parents would mind if he left cleanup for after Gravity Maintenance ended.
“Maybe when pigs fly,” his mom would have said.
And if Quincy had looked out the kitchen window right at that moment, that’s exactly what he would have seen.
PRINCIPAL’S PRINCIPLES
Hello, students! This is a friendly reminder that all students are encouraged to ask questions. Asking questions is a very important part of your education, and your teachers, counselors, and administrative staff are here to help you find answers.
On a separate note, Sunday’s PTA meeting has been canceled. The weather’s just too nice and warm for everyone to be cooped up inside—especially when Hanger Cliffs Water Park is finally reopening! I can’t wait to grab a seaweed snow cone and try out the new rides—especially the Mermaid’s Demise. Hope to see you there!
Your Pal,
Principal Josefina (Jo) King
EXPOSED: THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CRABS!
by Jules, Fifth-Grade Star Reporter
Since the arrival of the mysterious black crabs, this reporter has been stumped. The new crabs scared off the old crabs (still currently inhabiting the basement of Lost Soles; all sandals now half off!). The rock cats avoid them. They prefer living underground to living in the ocean. Folks, these crabs are simply not normal.
This reporter was just about ready to give up her search for the truth. Her head was spinning. But then she remembered her fortune card from Madam Flea and realized the answer had been in front of her all week. Solving the case was her destiny!
After luring a particularly large crab out from under the rocks, this reporter brought it to Talise’s laboratory to test her hypothesis. And following extensive study in her laboratory, Talise verified what this reporter suspected: the crabs aren’t actually crabs at all.
They’re spiders.
It was just another Sunday in Topsea, which meant Davy Jones was confused.
At long last, he’d decided to talk to his friends about his dad. Not all of his friends at once, of course—talking to them one-on-one would be a lot less intimidating. He’d climbed on his bike and started for Quincy’s house, when:
“Wheeeee!”
Davy skidded to a stop as a kid ran past. Then four more. Then seven more. They were different ages, but had one thing in common: all of them were wearing bathing suits.
Was there a Wildcard Tide? Davy wondered. No, most of the kids were laughing, not screaming.
Feeling bewildered, he got back on his bike and rode a little farther.
“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!”
Davy hit his brakes as three more kids ran by. They all wore swimsuits and inflatable floaties on their arms. A fourth girl trailed behind, probably because of the gigantic inner tube she was carrying.
“Hey!” Davy called. “Where are you all going?”
The girl stared at Davy like he’d grown a second head, maybe even a third one. “Hanger Cliffs Water Park opens today!” she exclaimed. “Didn’t you get the notification in your locker?”
“Oh, right,” Davy said. “I, um, forgot.”
She snorted, then hurried to catch up with her friends. Davy watched her go, scratching his head.
The truth was, he hadn’t gotten the notification. Because he still hadn’t made it to his locker.
Every day before school—and sometimes after school, too—he cannonballed into the swimming pool. He swam deeper and deeper. But every single time, he had to come up for air before he reached the shimmering gray dot. It was a good thing Quincy didn’t mind sharing his textbooks.
Davy watched another pair of kids sprint past, both of them wearing ruffled bikinis. He wondered if Quincy was already on his way to the water park. They’d talked on the phone just yesterday, during Gravity Maintenance. Why hadn’t Quincy mentioned the park was reopening?
“Because he assumed I’d gotten the notification!” Davy said out loud.
For a moment, he felt better. Then he frowned.
“Wait—no, he wouldn’t have,” Davy said. “Quincy knows I’ve never made it to my locker….”
Had his friends forgotten about him?
Davy was just starting to like living in Topsea. A big part of that was because he’d made such great friends. But none of them had remembered to tell him about Hanger Cliffs.
Then again, how could he expect them to remember him if they couldn’t even remember his name?
“I like your jacket, Danzig.”
“Hey, Dartanian, you’ve got a piece of seaweed in your ear.”
“Are you sure you want to eat that, Draco?”
Davy sighed as another pack of kids ran by, all of them in swimsuits. He still didn’t see any of his friends. They were probably already at the water park. Davy knew he could hurry home and put on his swimsuit, but the idea of showing up alone made him feel shy. The same way he’d felt on the first day of school.
Davy climbed back onto his bike and started to pedal away.
“Diego! Hey, Diego!”
This was getting ridiculous. For once, Davy decided not to pay any attention. But the call got more and more urgent.
“Diego!
Please, I need your help!”
It was Nia. Davy turned his bike around with a sigh. He liked Nia, but by now he knew how dramatic she could be. Then he noticed she was wearing regular clothes, not a swimsuit.
“Why aren’t you on your way to Hanger Cliffs?” he called.
Nia ran over to join him. Up close, he saw her eyes were red and puffy, and her usually neat braid was coming undone.
“Earl Grey’s missing!” she cried.
Instantly, Davy felt bad about ignoring her. “Are you sure?”
Nia held up Earl Grey’s leash. It was snapped in half. “Do you think somebody stole him?” she asked tearfully. “He’s worth a lot of money—or at least, he was when I thought he was a teacup pig. I’m not sure what the market rate is for watch hogs nowadays.”
Davy couldn’t imagine anybody stealing Earl Grey. By now, he was larger than any kid in town—and most of the grown-ups, too. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“During Gravity Maintenance,” Nia said. “I tied his leash beside his favorite mud hole so he wouldn’t float away.”
“Even if he did float away, he’d have landed by now, right?” Davy examined Earl Grey’s leash. Up close, it didn’t look snapped in half—it looked gnawed in half. “Those look like teeth marks. Maybe he escaped on his own?”
Nia shook her head. “Earl Grey would never leave me! I’ll bet it was those horrible rock cats. They’ve held a grudge ever since he squealed on them about the stolen milk.”
“Can cats hold grudges?” Davy asked.
“The rock cats sure can!”
Davy supposed he didn’t doubt it. “Still, I don’t know what the rock cats could do to a fully grown watch hog.”
“I just have this feeling he’s in trouble,” Nia said. “Please help me find him, Diego!”
“It’s not—” Davy sighed. “Of course I’ll help.”
Nia climbed onto the handlebars of Davy’s bike. He pedaled back toward the school, dodging hollering packs of swimsuit-clad kids.
“Nia! Dennis!”
Davy braked as Quincy, Runa, and Jules ran toward them. Quincy wore turquoise swim trunks covered in tiny pineapples and a matching swim cap. Runa wore striped shorts, a floral tank top, and giant boat shoes. Jules’s one-piece was black, white, and red all over. She was holding a giant yellow cake upside down. It was partially eaten.