Dedication
To
all the schools, students, teachers, and librarians who have
welcomed me and Cinderella Smith into your classrooms.
Especially Sunny Hills Class of 2013,
Seattle Country Day, Villa Academy, Bertschi,
View Ridge, and Wedgwood.
And to my own elementary school, Laurelhurst,
for inspiration
—S.B.
For Peter
—D.G.
Contents
Dedication
1. Ladybug Boots
2. Lots About Ocelots
3. Puppy Tooth-Marked Clog
4. Scuffed-up Pink Ballet Slippers
5. The Group in Cahoots
6. Tie-dyed TOMS
7. Spyers
8. The Missing Books
9. Boy-Friends and Girl-Friends
10. Strange and Suspicious
11. Leopard-Print Flat
12. Adidas with Red Stripes
13. Pelican-Print Rain Boots and a Big, Huge AHA!
14. Animal-Print Ballet Flats, New Blue Ballet Flats, and High-Top Basketball Shoes
About the Author and Illustrator
Back Ad
Other Books By
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
Ladybug Boots
“Do you ever think about what you want to be when you grow up?” I asked my best friend, Erin.
“All the time,” she said. “Right now I think I might want to be a scientist like my stepdad. What do you want to be?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I definitely don’t want to be a school bus driver.”
“Why not?”
“Because being on school buses makes me a little sick to my stomach.”
“Let’s change seats,” said Erin. “Sometimes being by the window helps. Also, look out, not in.”
I rubbed the fog off the window with my hand and looked outside. The sky was all full of dribbly-spit, which is not good field trip weather. Alas.
“Do you feel better?” Erin asked after a few minutes.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie had poked his head over from the seat behind us.
“Cinderella feels a little sick,” said Erin.
“Is she going to throw up?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“Maybe we should open the window, just in case.” Charlie reached over and tried to push it up.
“What’s going on?” asked Jack, Charlie’s seatmate.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Cinderella’s feeling sick,” said Charlie.
“We need a barf bag at the back of the bus!” yelled Jack. “Cinderella’s going to blow!”
“I am not,” I said.
“Cinderella, that’s disgusting.” Rosemary T. leaned across the aisle. And FYI, Rosemary T. and I used to be friends, but we’re not so much anymore.
“Don’t get too close!” Rosemary W., Rosemary T.’s best friend, pulled her back into her seat.
“Is everything okay back there?” our teacher, Mr. Harrison, called from up front.
“Everything’s fine,” I called back.
“Cinderella’s about to throw up!” Rosemary T. yelled at the same time.
“I am not!” I said.
“She is not!” said Erin.
“It looks like she is,” said Rosemary W.
“I’m fine,” I said to the Rosemarys.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Harrison walked to the back of the bus, even though you’re not supposed to get out of your seat when the bus is moving. He looked at me very concerned.
“I’m positive,” I said. “I felt a little sick for a minute, but now I’m just fine and dandy.” With everyone making such a big deal of it, I was for sure going to be fine and dandy too.
“Okay, but let me know if you start to feel bad again.” Mr. Harrison walked back up to the front. “We’ll be at the zoo in about five minutes.”
“I can’t wait to get there,” I said to Erin. “And not because I was feeling sick. Just because it’s one of the best places ever.”
“I know,” said Erin. “I love the zoo, especially the penguins.”
“Me too,” I said. “And the meerkats and the red pandas and the Komodo dragons.”
“And everything in the Day House.” Zachary leaned over the back of his seat in front of us.
“You shouldn’t get too close to Cinderella,” said Rosemary T. “She’s probably highly contagious.”
I did a big, huge sigh, and Erin and I rolled our eyes at each other.
“I’m not scared of her,” said Zachary.
I gave him a thumbs-up, and he gave me one back and bumped my knuckles with his.
“Hey,” I said, “that’s vexylent! A thumbs-up-bump!”
“Don’t you dare start making up words again,” said Rosemary T.
I like to make up words and try to get them in the dictionary. A couple weeks ago I made up vexylent, which means “very, extremely excellent.” I guess she thought thumbs-up-bump was a new one I was trying out.
“Thumbs-up-bump! Thumbs-up-bump!” Erin and Zachary and I chanted and bumped each other at the same time.
“Now you’re really getting germy, Zachary,” said Rosemary T. “Be sure to use some hand sanitizer.”
“I am not,” said Zachary.
“Neither am I.” Charlie stuck his head right between me and Erin and patted me on the head.
“Cut it out, Charlie,” I said.
Then the bus stopped and the door hissed open and a zoo person jumped on. She did a clap, clap, clap-clap-clap, and we did one back and then got quiet.
“Wow.” She sounded pretty impressed. I guess not everyone knows about clapping back and then listening. “Welcome to Woodland Park Zoo. Are you Mr. Harrison’s third-grade class?”
“Yes!” we all said.
“Here to learn about endangered animals?”
“Yes,” only a few of us said. I guess some kids forgot why we were here.
“Okay,” said the zoo person. “Follow me, and we’ll go see some animals!”
“Yay!” everyone yelled, and we filed off the bus.
“Are you the last one?” the zoo person asked.
“Yep,” I said. “Sorry if you had to wait. I took my boots off on the ride over, and it took me a little while to get them back on.”
She looked down at my feet. “Those are great boots.”
I looked down at my rain boots too. “Thank you. I picked bright red with black polka dots so they would be harder to lose.”
“You could put your name on them too. That’s what I do with my hats.” She took her hat off and showed me the inside, where it said “Robin Chrispin.”
“I always put my name and address on the bottoms.” I grabbed on to Erin and kicked my leg out in front to show her.
“Cinderella?” Robin read the name off the bottom of my boot.
“It’s just my nickname,” I said.
“Because she loses shoes a lot,” said Erin.
“But they get returned to me this way,” I said.
“Glad to hear it,” said Robin. “Follow me, everyone.”
We walked along a curvy path, and I knew we were heading to the Tropical Rain Forest area. I was very, extremely familiar with the zoo because my whole family likes it here. Robin stopped in front of a big glass window.
“I don’t see anything,” said Rosemary T.
“It’s the gorilla exhibit,” I said.
“I know that,” she said. “But where are they?”
“They’re probably hiding from you,” said Jack.
“Harrumph!” said Rosem
ary T.
Just then the gorillas came out. We watched them wander around their exhibit, picking up lettuce and other vegetables that were scattered all over.
“Can anyone tell me why gorillas are endangered?” asked Robin.
“Mainly because of limited resources,” said Logan.
“What’s that mean?” asked Zachary.
“It means they’re running out of the things they need to survive,” said Logan. “Like places to live and food to eat.”
“I’m impressed,” said Robin. “You know your stuff.”
“I’m doing my endangered species report on gorillas, and I already have some notes,” said Logan.
I was impressed too. I hadn’t thought much about the report yet, but maybe I should start.
“Let’s move on.”
We followed Robin to the next exhibit.
“The animal that lives here is pretty shy, so keep your voices low,” said Robin.
“I just saw some leaves move!” yelled Zachary.
Everyone shushed him.
A big, beautiful jaguar pushed through some bushes. It stood on the other side of the glass looking right at me. Everyone crowded around and oohed and aahed very quietly.
“Move, Cinderella,” hissed Rosemary T. “I want to see better.”
I stepped back and crashed into Rosemary W.
“Ooh!” Rosemary W. yelled, and the jaguar moved away from the glass.
“Good job, Rosemary W.,” said Charlie.
“Let’s be quiet, and he’ll come back,” said Robin. “Why do you think jaguars are endangered?”
“Because of their beautiful fur.” Rosemary W. pushed right up next to Rosemary T.
“Yes,” said Robin. “Any other reasons?”
“Also their limited resources,” said Rosemary T.
“Exactly,” said Robin. “They’re hunted for their fur and are losing their habitat. Many other animals are too, like gorillas, as we discussed before.”
We went into the Tropical Rain Forest building. It was warm and wet, and people’s glasses got all fogged up.
“Now that we’re inside we can spread out and explore at our own pace,” said Robin.
“Grab a buddy and take notes in preparation for your reports,” said Mr. Harrison.
Erin grabbed me and I grabbed her, and we headed off.
“What lives here?” Erin asked the Rosemarys, who were standing in front of a big glass window.
“Nothing,” said Rosemary T.
“We’ve been here for hours,” said Rosemary W. “It’s empty.”
“We’ve only been in the building for a few minutes.” I sat down in front of the exhibit.
“You probably weren’t patient enough.” Erin walked over to the sign, and the Rosemarys huffed away.
“It says a highly endangered ocelot lives here.” Erin kept reading, and I took a ton of notes.
“I think I see it!” From where I was sitting, I could see a tail hanging down from a tall branch.
“It was really blending in up there.” Erin sat down next to me, and we started sketching.
“Hey, maybe that’s what happened to my missing leopard-print flat,” I said. “Maybe it’s camouflaged somewhere.”
“We’ll go on a search next time I’m over,” said Erin.
“And we won’t look inside this time,” I said. “We’ll look all over the garden and places outside.”
The next exhibit was full of hissing cockroaches, which were not endangered so we didn’t spend much time with them.
“We’re taking a poll.” Christopher and Trevor were standing in front of a snake exhibit. “Would you rather trip over a boa constrictor or a bushmaster?”
“Neither.” Erin walked over to the next cage, where two toucans were sitting on a branch.
“Hmm.” I thought for a minute. “I’d rather trip on a boa constrictor. At least I’d have a chance of staying alive with that guy.”
“Excellent answer,” said Christopher. “The bushmaster’s venom would be the end of you, but you might be able to elude the constrictor.”
“Phew!” I hurried to catch up to Erin.
We tried to sketch golden lion tamarin monkeys, but they were jumping around their cage too fast.
“They’re cute,” said Erin.
“But frustrating,” I said.
The poison dart frogs next door were much easier to draw.
“I wish I could have one of these for a pet,” said Charlie.
“But you could never play with it,” I said.
“It says they lose their poison in captivity,” he said.
“Achoo!” Jack sneezed all over the glass.
“That’s disgusting!” said Erin.
“Five more minutes, class,” Mr. Harrison called.
We hurried to see the rest of the exhibits and took as many notes as we could.
When Robin walked us back to the bus, she had us move like the different animals we’d seen. We hopped like frogs and slithered like snakes and swung through the trees like monkeys, even Mr. Harrison. The only ones who didn’t were the Rosemarys and Hannah.
“You look so weird and dumb,” said Rosemary W.
“And immature,” said Rosemary T.
I almost told them that what’s really weird and dumb and immature is not doing something fun because of how it looks. Instead, though, I just ignored them. It took me a while to figure it out, but sometimes that’s the best thing to do.
2
Lots About Ocelots
“I think today was the best school day of the whole year,” I announced during dinner.
“Better than the spelling bee day?” asked my dad.
“Definitely,” I said. “There is nothing better in the whole wide world than a field trip to the zoo.”
“What was your favorite animal this time?” he asked.
My favorite animal always changes, so that’s why he asked the question that way.
“I think probably the jaguar,” I said. “He walked right up to the glass where I was standing and looked at me. I’m not going to do my report on him, though.”
“Why not?” My mom brought us each a bowl full of sliced pears. Alas. Pears are just fine and dandy, but I always hope for something not so healthy for dessert.
“It’s all due to limited resources,” I said.
“What’s that?” My little sister, Tess, turned her plastic brontosaurus around so it could share her pears.
“It means there’s not enough of something for everyone to get what they need,” I said. “We learned all about it at the zoo today. Right now I’m talking about library books, though, not food and water and things like that. I bet lots of people are doing their reports on jaguars, and that means all the books on them will get checked out.”
“Couldn’t you use other sources of information?” asked my dad.
“The rules for the report are: two sites from the internet, two books from the library, and one encyclopedia article.”
“Why do the books have to be from the library?” asked my mom.
“I think Mr. Harrison and Ms. Pearl, the librarian, are in a little bit of cahoots.”
“What’s ‘cahoots’?” asked Tess.
“It means they’re secretly working together,” I said. “I think they want to make sure all the third graders know how to check out books before Thanksgiving.”
“Ah,” said my mom. “So what animal are you going to do?”
“An ocelot,” I said. “It was lying way up high on a tree branch, but it kind of looked like a jaguar. Except it was the size of Miss Purvis.” And Miss Purvis, by the way, is my aunt Flora’s cat, who I just love.
“Does it make a noise like Miss Purvis?” asked my dad. Miss Purvis is a very loud, yowly cat.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I didn’t hear it make any kind of noise. I’ve got a lot of research to do.”
“When is the report due?” asked my mom.
“The week before Thanksgiving.” All of
a sudden that didn’t seem very far away. “May I be excused? I think I’ll get started.”
“Certainly,” said my mom.
I slid out of my chair and headed to the computer.
“Don’t forget to clear your plate,” called my mom.
I came back and piled my bowl and glass and fork and napkin all onto my plate. I think it is just a waste of time to make more than one trip to the dishwasher. As soon as my stuff was loaded in, I got the notebook that I’d brought to the zoo and sat down at the computer. While I waited for it to warm up, I wrote Lots About Ocelots in big, puffy letters on the cover.
“Can I help?” Tess came into the living room.
I didn’t really want her help, but we have a rule in our house. Whenever you can say yes, say yes. It just makes life easier.
“Yes,” I said, and I didn’t even sigh.
She pulled a chair up next to me and set her brontosaurus on the desk, facing the screen.
I typed in ocelot and started clicking onto different sites. “I’m going to print up a whole bunch of ocelot pictures to glue onto the front of this notebook.”
“I wish I had homework.” Tess is turning four soon and just can’t wait to start preschool.
“Can you go get me scissors and a glue stick?” I asked.
“Sure!” Tess jumped off her chair and ran out of the room. After a few minutes, she walked back in slowly, holding her fist around the blade end of the scissors, just like I’d taught her. I gave her a thumbs-up, and she gave me one back with her other hand.
“Let me show you something cool.” I bumped her thumbs-up knuckles with mine. “It’s called a thumbs-up-bump.”
“Awesome,” she said.
“While these pictures are printing, I think I’ll draw an ocelot on the inside. I tried to draw one at the zoo, but I didn’t have a very good view.”
“You need colors.” Tess slid off her chair and raced out of the room. “Here!” She set a big box of crayons on the desk next to her brontosaurus.
I kept sketching, and she pulled out crayons and held them up to the ocelot on the screen. “You need whitey-yellow and orange and black.”
The colors she picked out were perfect. I gave her a thumbs-up and she gave me one back, and we thumbs-up-bumped a few times. Then I got back to work, printing and sketching and gluing and filling my notebook with lots about ocelots.
The Super Secret Mystery Page 1