Everyone was so happy and high-fiving, and I was feeling a little silly about feeling badly. So what? I’d stand out from my friends. No big deal. I tried to shrug it off. I tried to smile along with everyone else. But I guess I’m just not good at keeping my feelings inside. I felt like I was full of gas molecules under pressure. You know, like when you shake up a soda with the cap still on.
So I wasn’t that surprised when five minutes later, Birdie asked me, “What’s up, Kate?” We were alone and heading to the bathroom, right before we had to be back in the classroom. She nudged my shoulder.
Usually, I try to be positive and not a complainer.
But there was no way I was going to hold back from my best friend.
“I don’t have a shirt. Well, one that fits,” I admitted. “You know, from the aquarium. It’s seriously not a big deal. But . . .” My words trailed off.
Birdie gave me a hug by the water fountain. “You’re feeling left out.”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Maybe, kinda, sorta.” Why was I getting emotional about this? It was just a dumb T-shirt. “Wait. I think I have a plan.” Then I leaned over and told Birdie all about it.
CHAPTER SIX
A Strange Reaction
Exchange Reaction (noun). This is a chemical reaction where material gets broken down and put back together. It would be like one kid building a new castle out of blocks while his brother was kicking the old one down.
DOWNSTAIRS, I PLOPPED in front of the family computer. It was Friday afternoon, and my parents let me spend a little more time on the computer during the weekend. The first thing I did was to look up why the steam from Tala’s soup burst out of her thermos. I found out that was because water vapor condensed in the cooler air. I peered out my window to think about what I had just learned. The water vapor must behave more like clouds than smoke. And, scientifically speaking, water vapor is different from steam. That’s because steam is just water in the gas phase, and you can’t actually see it. I could see the cloud above Tala’s lunch because it was made up of little droplets of soup. Yum! I thought about how delicious it would be if the clouds in our skies were made from giant vats of chicken soup.
I laughed aloud at my silly thought. It seemed like a Memito idea.
The next thing I did was start my T-shirt plan.
I figured if I ordered a Shedd Aquarium T-shirt before our field trip, then I’d have a shirt just like all of my friends. As I studied the items on the aquarium store site, I noticed something. They didn’t have all of the T-shirts from the actual gift shop. They had a really fun shark T-shirt. And a cute beluga whale tee, but no penguin ones. On the website it said that they had a few select items and to visit the aquarium gift shop for a full selection.
Ugh!
I scrolled again, looking at the beluga T-shirt.
It was okay. But it wasn’t a cute rockhopper penguin with bright yellow feathers. I guess I’d just have to wait and buy a penguin T-shirt at the aquarium.
I counted my money in my atom bank. I’d been saving for a really loooong time. All my chore money for the entire fall. Forty dollars. That was more than enough money to buy myself a wonderful penguin T-shirt. Plus, I could surprise Liam and buy him a stuffed animal since he likes them so much.
Even though I wouldn’t have an aquarium T-shirt right away, I’d have one in less than two weeks. I could live with that. That is, if we had enough chaperones to go to the aquarium. But we would. I was sure of it. Maybe Dad could be our second chaperone. Then we’d just need two more.
From my room, I grabbed Mr. Penguin, my stuffed animal that my parents bought for me at the Shedd when I was little. He’s been ripped up and sewn back together a couple of times—my mom even found a new beak for him from another penguin that she had bought at a garage sale. After all these years, Mr. Penguin was basically the result of a complicated exchange reaction. Where old parts were taken away. And new parts were added.
And then suddenly, I knew exactly what I would do with Mr. Penguin.
* * *
• • •
At dinner I hid Mr. Penguin behind my back.
“So guess where my class is going in two weeks?” I said in a mysterious voice. “Well, as long as we get enough parents to chaperone.”
Mom looked like she was going to say something, so I gave a warning look. “You’re not allowed to guess. So the rest of you—guess!”
“A planetarium,” said Dad.
“To the moon,” said Liam.
“Sure, in our imagination.” I giggled. “I’ll give you guys a huge clue.” Then, with a flourish, I whipped out Mr. Penguin from behind my back.
Liam leaped for it, but I yanked Mr. Penguin away.
“My Spidey sense tells me you’re not going to the South Pole,” said Dad. “Unless your mom has applied for a really large grant. And while I believe your mom can do anything, chartering a plane to take the entire fifth grade to one of the coldest places on Earth might be stretching it just a bit.”
“I am pretty good at grant writing.” Mom smiled as she chewed her salad.
I held up Mr. Penguin in front of my face and put on a pretend high voice. “So any real guesses?”
“How about the aquarium?” said Dad.
“You got it!” I tossed Mr. Penguin up in the air so he did a complete twirl. “It’s going to be awesome. Liam, did you know that there are thirty-two thousand sea creatures there? And not just fish? Also snakes, birds, and even insects.”
“Wow. You sound like a brochure,” Dad said, biting into his chicken leg.
“Well, we’ve been learning about it. I mean, you guys know that they have whales. Not every aquarium has that. Belugas, which are sort of like dolphins, only bigger. Plus that Caribbean Reef exhibit with ninety thousand gallons of water. It’s got a bonnethead shark, stingrays, and huge fish called tarpons.”
“Oh, I remember that exhibit,” said Mom. “There was a sweet green sea turtle in there.”
“Yes,” I said. “He’s still there. His name is Nickel, and they have this diver who will go into the tank and talk to people. I’m so excited to go to the aquarium for a second time.”
“Correction,” said Mom. “Your third time. Dad and I brought you when Grandpa Jack and Grandma Dort visited from Texas. You were two, and we pushed you around in a stroller. You kept on yelling about the penguins.”
Dad shook his head and laughed. “Not much has changed.”
“Hey, no fair.” Liam slumped back in his chair. “I haven’t even gone once.” He harrumphed.
“You’ll get your chance, Liam,” said Mom. “Maybe we’ll go this summer. It’s just that I’m so busy during the year.” Mom looked at Dad, who was glancing down at his phone. “Greg, wouldn’t July be perfect?” Midsummer is basically the only time that Mom is actually free. In early and later summer, she has meetings.
Liam grabbed the penguin from me and clutched it to his chest. “Hey, can Snowie be mine again?”
Even though Mr. Penguin was mine, Liam had loved him so much that I said he could borrow him sometimes. And whenever he borrows him, he renames him. I’m fine with that, honestly. I’m not a go-to-bed-with-a-stuffed-animal kind of person anyway.
“So, Dad, I bet you’d like to see all that great stuff at the aquarium,” I said enthusiastically. “Plus, it’s in Chicago. You could wave hi to the Bulls.”
“Well, you can definitely wave for me.”
“No, I mean in person. As a chaperone.”
“When is it again?” asked Dad.
“Two weeks from today. Say yes, please? The zebra shark is a threatened species. Which means if you don’t see it at the Shedd, it’ll be hard to see anywhere. And it’s a great opportunity to support them. The sharks, I mean.” And then I started listing other animals. “Penguins, dolphins, jellies, eels. All of them.”
“I got
you.” Dad bent down his head and examined his schedule on his phone. “I’ll be able to tell you in exactly one sec.” Then he peered up at me with a look on his face that was both happy and sad at the same time. Which made absolutely no sense.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Conference Time
Conference (noun). Scientists and other professionals attend conferences in order to keep up with the latest findings in their field. It’s like a giant professional birthday party, only usually there aren’t presents. Instead there are present-ers, who speak at the conference.
“I HAVE SOME BAD NEWS and good news,” said Dad.
“Can you give me the good news first?” I pleaded.
“Sure. I’ve been asked to give a talk in Detroit. On the benefits of mindfulness.” Dad’s a psychologist, so he goes to a conference every few months. He says he does it to keep up with the industry. Dr. Caroline, my favorite chemist on YouTube, does the same thing. Only she goes to chemistry conferences.
“That’s great, Dad,” I said. “About the conference.” I had a feeling that him giving a talk wasn’t going to be all that great when it came to the aquarium.
“Usually when I go to conferences, it’s to get continuing education credits to keep my license current so I can still talk to patients. I haven’t done one in a while, and I’m excited about it. But my talk is on the first day of the conference—January 28. And I’ll also be on a panel in the morning, which I’m not too thrilled about because I’ll have to improvise.”
“That’s awesome, Dad,” I said. “About the talk and the panel.” But inside I really wasn’t feeling so great. More like lumpier than the mashed potatoes on my plate.
From across the table, Mom was beaming. “I’m so proud of your dad. It’s going to be livestreamed, so I’ll be able to catch a little bit of it.”
“Dad needs a license for his job?” asked Liam. “I thought that was to drive a car.”
“It’s a different kind of license,” said Dad. “It’s to be a psychologist. Just like I need a card that says I can drive, I need one that says I can do my job. Teachers need them too. And doctors.”
“Oh.” Liam patted Mr. Penguin. “How about kids? And penguins? Do they need licenses too?”
“None that I’ve heard of,” said Dad. “But that is a good business idea.” Even though Dad loves his work, he jokes he’ll make a bundle one day due to some business idea, retire, and then spend the rest of his time reading books and traveling the world.
“I guess you don’t need to give me the bad news,” I murmured. “Since I can tell you’re going to be busy that day.”
“Katie Lane, I’m sorry.” Katie Lane is my nickname, in honor of Lois Lane from Superman. My dad came up with it because I was super curious as a little kid, just like Lois Lane. “I really wish I could go,” Dad continued. “I love aquariums. But I agree with Mom. We’ll go to the Shedd as a family this summer. And I don’t have any conferences coming up this spring, so hit me up for the next field trip. Okay?” Dad folded his hands together and paused. “Honestly, I’m disappointed I can’t go with you.”
“It’s no big deal,” I said. “I’m sure plenty of other parents can go. Like Elijah’s. It’ll be fine.”
“I figured,” said Dad.
“I certainly hope so,” said Mom softly.
A little part of me worried that maybe I wouldn’t get my penguin shirt at all. But that was just being silly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
What’s in the Bag?
Atoms (noun). Atoms are so teeny-tiny that you can’t see them with your eyes or even a regular microscope. Atoms are made up of even smaller particles called electrons, protons, and neutrons. Just like soccer balls, they move due to gravity or because of force.
ON MONDAY, Mrs. Eberlin held up a brown paper bag. “I’ve got something exciting to share with all of you.”
“Brownies?” asked Memito with a hopeful expression.
“A tennis ball,” guessed Avery.
I shot up my hand. “Some atoms. Get it?” I said. “No matter what, that bag is full of atoms and molecules.”
Birdie giggled. “I hope those atoms are bonded together into some fun art supplies for us.”
Our teacher rustled the bag. “Inside, I have the names of sea creatures. And you’re going to pick one to research, and then you’re going to present your findings to the class in a five-minute Google Slides presentation. You will offer a description, habitat, diet, behavior, and present status.”
Mrs. Eberlin had just taught us about present status. That’s the phrase scientists use to describe the current numbers in the world. For rockhopper penguins, their present status is a population of about 1.5 million penguins. And the present status of zebras is about 500,000.
She continued, “The best part is that you will have a super-duper cool facts section. And I want you to discover three of these facts at the aquarium. Something you learn by observing or by asking questions of an animal expert there or by reading something in an exhibit. Your presentation will be two weeks from today, on Monday, January 31. This way when we get to the aquarium you’ll already be experts, because you’ll have done most of your research.” She glanced up at us. “Isn’t it wonderful that you get to meet your sea animal in person at the aquarium?”
“That is, if we go,” moaned Memito. “We need more chaperones. So far, we just have Avery’s dad.”
Mrs. Eberlin glanced at the calendar. It was Monday, January 17. “We still have eleven days,” she said in an upbeat voice.
“Yay! Plenty of time,” I said. “We’re going to go. I’m sure of it.” I couldn’t help feeling that as the principal’s daughter, I was somehow extra responsible for stuff. Which is probably ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. Especially since deep down, I wasn’t so sure it would all work out.
Folding her hands, Mrs. Eberlin gazed at the entire class. “I sent emails to your parents asking them to look at their schedules. No doubt we’ll hear from some more folks soon.”
Then she shook the brown paper bag so it crinkled. “It’s time to pick your sea creature for your presentation.” The first person she walked up to was Birdie.
Birdie reached her hand into the bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Slowly, she unwrapped it.
“I’m aging a hundred years,” said Jeremy. “Tell us.”
“A seahorse,” said Birdie softly. I could tell she was a little disappointed. I bet she wanted something more colorful that she could draw.
Next up was Elijah, who pulled out an otter. There was a collective “Ooooh, so cute,” and Elijah had a big grin on his face.
Jeremy rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to get a shark. I can feel it. Bring on the predator, bay-bee!” He stirred his arm and pulled out his paper. His face fell. “Parrotfish? Is that a real fish? If it’s a bird, then she”—he pointed at Birdie—“should have it.” Then he made a caw-caw sound like a crow.
“Jeremy,” said Mrs. Eberlin. “That’s not appropriate. I’m going to have to write your name on the whiteboard.” She wrote Jeremy in red marker on the section of the board she reserved for people who had strikes against them. Three strikes and you get sent to my mom. Luckily, I have never gotten three strikes. “And that means no recess unless you can show me better behavior.”
Jeremy slumped in his seat. “Okaaaay,” he murmured. Outside it was pretty sunny, so there was definitely going to be outdoor recess, which made me feel more than a tiny bit happy.
Next Phoenix got a jellyfish, which seemed to make her smile. And Avery got a shark. Lots of kids whistled for that one, including me.
When it was my turn, I dug my hand in real fast. Please, please let it be a penguin. Quickly, I unfolded the paper.
“A sea lion,” I said. I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Because I love penguins so much. If I’m ever stressed out,
I will watch penguin cams and penguin videos on YouTube.
“Sea lions are so much fun,” said Phoenix. “When my family visited San Francisco, we saw them at Fisherman’s Wharf. They make a barking sound almost like a dog.”
“Nice,” I said, still trying to sound upbeat. Then Phoenix started chatting about her family’s trip to San Francisco, but it was really hard to pay attention because instead I was looking over at Julia. Julia, who was smiling. Julia, who was waving a slip of paper and going, “I got penguins, you guys!”
She didn’t get just any penguins.
She got my rockhopper penguins.
“I don’t know anything about them,” Julia said. “Except they live in the North Pole and they’re cute!”
“Actually, they live in the South Pole,” I said. “Antarctica, parts of southern Africa, and South America. The only thing in the North Pole is Santa’s workshop.”
“Oh, cool,” said Julia. “Literally. Since it’s freezing cold wherever there are penguins.”
I bit my lip. Some penguins live at the tip of Africa, where temperatures can be a bit balmy. Even in Antarctica they sometimes have temperatures that are not so freezing during the summer.
When I turned around, I noticed that Birdie was super quiet and slumpy. She looked as disappointed as I was. “You wanted jellies,” I said.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I was really looking forward to drawing them for our report. I mean, I like seahorses too. But with jellies I wanted to work on my shading skills and showing how they’re translucent and reflect the light.”
“Why don’t you ask to switch with Phoenix? You know that she loves horses. And seahorses are as close as you can get underwater.”
Some Penguin Problems Page 3