Some Penguin Problems

by Dr. Kate Biberdorf

  “Kate, that’s a great idea!” Birdie went over to Phoenix and asked if she would swap. I couldn’t hear Phoenix’s response, but she jumped up and hugged Birdie. They exchanged their little pieces of paper, and then Birdie skipped back to her seat.

  Now she was suddenly humming and doodling jellies all over her notebook paper. I sighed in a good kind of way. It made me happy to see my friends happy.

  Now I just needed to do the same for myself. But when Mrs. Eberlin heard that Birdie and Phoenix had swapped, she said, “Going forward, I’d prefer if the rest of you didn’t switch with others.”

  Mrs. Eberlin didn’t say no to swapping. She just said prefer. There was a difference, I told myself. As our teacher continued speaking, all I could think about was switching to penguins. Next we did a math lesson, and when we were working in groups on our math sets, I crept over to Julia’s table.

  “You need to sit down,” whispered Julia. Her eyes on Mrs. Eberlin. She looked worried.

  “Are you happy with penguins?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Would you want to switch?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Mrs. Eberlin had a procedure for us choosing our sea creatures. And I wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”

  “Yes, but Birdie and Phoenix swapped and—”

  “Didn’t you hear? Mrs. Eberlin said she would prefer if we didn’t. Now could you please go? I’m checking over my math problems.”

  “Right,” I said. I guessed I could recheck my problems too. But I felt too slumpy.

  If my life were a weather forecast, it would be cloudy, gray, and disappointing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  What’s the Matter?

  Law of Conservation of Matter (noun). A law that tells us that an amount of matter stays the same even when it changes form. Matter is basically anything with mass that takes up space. That means if you took a bite of your piece of pizza and offered it to your friend, in some sense the amount of matter that made up the slice stays the same. Only now some of that matter is inside your tummy and some of it is in your bestie’s!

  “BEFORE WE START our math lesson, I want to collect field trip permission slips,” said Mrs. Eberlin on Friday, January 21. It was a week before we were going to the Shedd. Some kids opened up their notebooks, while others had to race to their backpacks to get them. Mine was in an envelope that Mom had given me.

  “Thanks so much,” said Mrs. Eberlin as she set down her mug of coffee. It was so warm I could practically see the steam. And boy, did the air smell good. It made me think of the law of conservation, which states that even if a little bit of the coffee changed from a liquid to gas, the amount of particles didn’t change. It’s just that some of the water in the coffee had evaporated.

  “Remember that the deadline to turn in your signed permission forms is Monday,” said Mrs. Eberlin as she went down the aisle collecting permission slips. “Since the entry fee is in the school budget, that part is covered. But if you want anything extra from the gift shop, that will be up to you.”

  I thought about my forty dollars in my atom bank. Yeah, luckily, I had that part covered.

  “Also, I wanted to check on chaperones,” continued Mrs. Eberlin. “I reached out to your parents again last night via email, and I know a bunch of your parents were checking their schedules, which is good. As a reminder, we’ll need to have our definite list of chaperones set before we go.”

  She didn’t add the or else.

  But she didn’t need to.

  Everyone knew that if we didn’t find the chaperones really soon, our field trip next Friday could be canceled. But the animal presentation wouldn’t. I had been working on my sea lion presentation all week. Honestly, the research was going a little slowly since I had so much to learn. Unlike with penguins, especially rockhoppers, where I knew facts just off the top of my head. For example, I know that rockhoppers are awesome rock climbers because they have sharp claws that help to grip the boulders. So far, I had gotten the information for the habitat and behavior sections for the sea lion as well as the description. I just needed to learn more about their diet and present status.

  I had no idea what the present status of sea lions was. Once I solved that mystery, I needed to complete my super-duper facts section, which hopefully would be from actual research at the aquarium, but right now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Hey, I’ve got good news,” called out Elijah. “My mom can come.”

  “What? Really?” I said. Since Elijah lives next door to me, I usually hear everything firsthand. “When did that happen?”

  “She told me last night,” said Elijah. “She convinced one of the other doctors to cover her shift at the hospital. And another one for the clinic.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Mrs. Eberlin. “Elijah’s mom is a pediatrician. That means we’ll have first aid more than covered. Now we just need two more chaperones.” She crossed her fingers.

  Usually, just like a proton, I’m positive.

  But right now, I was more like an electron. Negative and upset that I couldn’t do a penguin presentation.

  “At least the weather report is good for the day of our trip,” said Mrs. Eberlin. “Cold temps but no snow. For now. It’s a long-term forecast and a week away, so anything can happen between now and then. Also, I wanted to remind you all that we’re going to leave for the field trip first thing in the morning. So nobody can be late. And we definitely don’t want to be late since we’ve signed up for the eleven o’clock aquarium show, and we don’t want to miss that. They change up the animals in the show. But I have heard that ours will be penguins and belugas.”

  I started to clap. Penguins! That was just awesome. That meant I’d actually be able to get really close to them. The field trip was just a week away, but I already knew that it would be one long week.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A Crystal Ball

  Crystal (noun). A type of solid made up of molecules and ions arranged in a definite three-dimensional pattern. Salt and sugar are examples of tasty crystals that have their own unique crystal structures.

  ON THE OTHER SIDE of the playground, I could hear Julia bossing around some fourth graders. Telling them not to run so they “wouldn’t slip on the ice like penguins.” She took her job in student government pretty seriously, especially since they have a new safety campaign.

  “I just wish I could do my presentation on penguins,” I said to Birdie and Tala, who stood by the swings. And I explained how Julia didn’t seem to get penguins. I knew that they rarely slipped on ice.

  “I don’t see why you can’t do it too,” said Tala. “It’s not too late. The presentation’s not for ten days.”

  I shook my head. “Mrs. Eberlin just wants one person per animal for our presentations.”

  “Sea lions are wonderful, Kate,” said Birdie. “I wish you could see that.”

  “Yeah, but penguins surf through waves, dive off cliffs, and will lie on their bellies and toboggan down a hill. Now, that’s fun.” I sighed heavily. “I could seriously give my presentation on penguins tomorrow. I mean, I know way more penguin-y things than Julia.”

  “True,” said Birdie. “But wouldn’t you have more fun learning something new about sea lions?”

  “Plus, it would be kind of unfair if you did penguins,” said Tala. “Since you already know so much.”

  “Wow, it sounds like you guys aren’t on my side,” I said, hurt.

  Birdie’s eyes got big. And she looked at Tala anxiously. “No, that’s not it at all,” said Birdie. “We’re just trying to look at the bright side.” She scooped up some old snow on the ground and packed it into a ball. Then jokingly said, “Looking into this crystal ball, I see good things in your future.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said.

  “We want you to feel good about your presentation,” said Tala.<
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  And then I just stood there not really looking at anything. To me, it seemed unfair that Birdie could talk about this when she and Phoenix got to switch and I didn’t. Plus, I bet that Julia didn’t have a penguin poster in her room or a penguin stuffed animal that she gave to her little brother. She didn’t even have a little brother.

  I sighed again.

  “I think you need some cheering up,” said Birdie.

  “Yes,” said Tala. “Kate does need some cheering up.”

  “It’s time for Operation Cheer Up Kate. And I think that involves chocolate.”

  “Definitely chocolate.” From watching Dr. Caroline on YouTube, I know that there are six different forms of chocolate crystals that are smooth and glossy and will melt in your mouth. Yum!

  “You guys are so right,” said Tala. “You should come over to my house after school and we can make snacks for the trip.” I smiled really big, since Tala’s class was also going on the field trip and on the same bus. “We can make homemade chocolate-covered pretzels,” added Tala.

  “Oh, that sounds like so much fun!” I cried. “How about if we come to my house though? My dad’s working in his office. He likes it if I’m home to keep an eye on Liam.”

  “Kate’s house it is,” said Tala. “Will this afternoon work?”

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  We all joined hands, or rather mittens, and spun in a circle. And then when we broke away, we spun some more.

  When the bell rang, Birdie and I raced inside, but then stopped to wait for Tala to catch up. Since she was new to the snow, she had too many layers of clothing on, and took forever to change out of her snow gear.

  Jeremy called out, “Tala looks like a penguin.”

  “Be quiet, Jeremy,” I said. And I gritted my teeth.

  It seemed like everyone and everything wanted to remind me of penguins.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Open Up!

  Objectivity (noun). Discovering the best explanation by allowing evidence—not bias—to answer the question. In science, it’s considered a bias when scientists come to incorrect conclusions based on false data. Sort of like your little brother telling you that your dog ate your chocolate chip cookie and you believing him—when in fact, your brother actually snarfed down your cookie.

  “IS THERE ANYTHING you’d like to talk about, Kate?” asked Dad. I was pacing by the front door, waiting for Tala and Birdie to arrive with the ingredients for Operation Cheer Up Kate. “You seem upset.”

  We were planning on making chocolate-covered pretzels. Some to eat now and some to pass around as snacks for the field trip on Friday. We needed to make over one hundred so there would be enough for everyone in both fifth-grade classes to have a couple.

  “Um, not really.” I continued to pace.

  “Kate,” he said in a gentle reprimand. My dad knew me so well. Plus, he’s a psychologist. So then I told him how I was still upset about not getting penguins as my topic for my sea animal presentation. How having to do sea lions just didn’t seem as much fun.

  “You’re biased and not being objective,” said Dad. “Why don’t you focus on making new discoveries about sea lions? You’re a curious person. You might surprise yourself. It’s good to go outside your comfort zone.”

  “It’s not about comfort, Dad. It’s about love. You and Mom are the ones who tell me you should pursue what your passions are.”

  “Yes, but there are many paths to take and many lessons to learn. And—”

  “If you think it’s important to go outside your comfort zone, why are you upset about being on the panel for your conference?”

  “Oh, you’ve got me there.” He smiled with a guilty look. “Maybe it’s something we both need to work on, huh, Katie Lane?”

  Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Oh, speaking of the conference.” He glanced down at his phone. “That’s one of the conference organizers.” Then he walked into his office, just as Birdie and Tala burst into the house, carrying a shopping bag full of supplies. Thirty minutes later, Tala, Birdie, and I stood in my kitchen making our chocolate-covered pretzels.

  “We definitely will have more than enough for our field trip to the aquarium,” said Tala. She pointed at all the pretzel rods we had already dipped in chocolate. It had been Birdie’s idea to decorate them with rainbow sprinkles.

  “To make them pizzazz-y for our trip,” said Birdie.

  Soon enough, Liam was in the kitchen begging us to take him with us so he could see the aquarium and eat chocolate pretzel snacks.

  He clasped his small hands together. “I want to go. Please. Please. Please take me with you! I’ll squish into your backpack.”

  “Oh, I wish you could go,” I said. “But, buddy, it’s just for fifth graders.”

  Liam sighed heavily. “No fair. How come old kids get to have all the fun?” He still looked disappointed, along with Dribble, our dog. Who was pitifully begging with his eyes all big and his tongue lolling.

  “Here,” I said, handing Liam a pretzel. “This will cheer you up.”

  “Thanks,” he said, biting into it. “It’s yummy!” Then he took off for the family room, with a hopeful Dribble at his heels.

  Forty-five minutes later, we almost had all of the pretzels dipped into chocolate. Except for the ones we were dipping in white chocolate.

  I broke up the white chocolate into small, bite-sized pieces, and then I put them into the glass bowl. Next Birdie dumped in three tablespoons of vegetable shortening. “This stuff is so icky looking.”

  “Yeah, but you need it,” I said. “Anyway, it melts, so you can’t tell it’s there.”

  After popping the bowl into the microwave, I checked the chocolate. It looked nice and creamy.

  I was just about to start dipping again when there was a knock on the door. Dribble started barking. “Calm down,” I told him.

  “Maybe it’s someone delivering a package,” said Tala.

  “No chance,” I said. “My parents are on a break from ordering stuff online. They want to support local businesses this month.” Dribble followed me to the door, his tail wagging.

  It was Elijah with Memito and Jeremy too.

  “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “Well, the guys were just hanging out when we had this idea,” said Elijah.

  I let them into the house. “It’s Elijah,” I called out.

  “And Memito,” said Memito.

  “And Jeremy,” said Jeremy.

  The boys waltzed into the kitchen. Immediately, Memito beelined for the tray of pretzels.

  “Sorry, you’ll have to wait,” I said.

  “Until the field trip,” chorused Birdie and Tala.

  “About that,” said Elijah. “We have something to tell you. It’s that—”

  “Technically, white chocolate isn’t real chocolate,” said Memito. “Because it doesn’t have any cocoa solids. It’s made from sugar, cocoa butter, milk stuff, and vanilla.”

  “Let me see.” Jeremy stuck his fingers into the chocolate mixture. “Tastes good! I don’t care about technical stuff.”

  “Hey, stop that,” I said. “You just spread your germs everywhere.” Jeremy could be so infuriating.

  “But I just washed my hands,” said Jeremy. “With mud and oil and decaying stuff from the garbage.”

  Tala scrunched up her face and plugged her nose like she could smell the stink.

  “He’s just kidding,” said Elijah. “His hands are clean. My mom makes him sanitize before stepping into our house.” Elijah’s mom, the doctor, is super serious about everything being clean.

  I put my hands on my hips. “So, did you guys seriously come here to tell us that white chocolate isn’t real chocolate?”

  Memito looked at Elijah, and Elijah looked at Jeremy, who shrugged. “Actually, we’re here because we had
this idea,” Elijah said, resting his elbow on the counter. Immediately, it slid out from underneath him and he lost his balance, toppling into Birdie. She tried to catch him, but her arms were full with the bowl of melted white chocolate. Before we knew it, the two of them were in a pile on the floor, and the white chocolate was everywhere. It was dead silent for a nanosecond before we all burst into laughter.

  Through giggles, Elijah asked, “Hey! What did you put on there? Grease?”

  “Um, yeah. It’s called vegetable shortening,” said Memito, who was laughing so hard he could barely help Birdie up.

  “Can you please just tell us your plan?” I begged Elijah. Although he could barely understand me because I couldn’t stop laughing at my two best friends covered in chocolate.

  Eventually Elijah pulled it together enough to explain why they stopped by in the first place. “I thought we could ask your dad to go on the field trip,” said Elijah. “He’s a psychologist, right? And so he can just reschedule with his patients or find someone to cover for him. Like my mom did.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I said. “Except for one thing. I already asked him.” And then I explained how my dad had a conference where he was speaking.

  “Oh, man. Tell him he can speak from the aquarium. You know, go remote on location from a shark tank or something.”

  “Sure, that would be professional.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Maybe someone’s big brother or sister could come as a chaperone,” said Birdie.

  Tala shook her head. “They have school too. I don’t think my brother who’s a freshman in high school could miss algebra to go to an aquarium.”

  “He could if he had a cool teacher,” said Jeremy.

  “Even teachers have to stay in school,” said Birdie. “The only people who aren’t in school or working are retired people.”

  “Birdie,” I said. “You’re a genius! I just figured out who we should ask next.”