I tried to embrace the distaste. I tried to draw energy from it.
It was pretty dang hard.
“The town will be donating two hundred fifty dollars to each of your charities for just showing up,” Dawn said. She stopped and waited for us to clap. I clapped very loud.
“Now, a few things. First, you’re in partnerships. Part of the competition will be to see how well the two of you work together.” Grandma squeezed my hand.
“Second, once we get things started I will announce each partnership to the crowd and then I will read an excerpt from the essays you submitted to get into the competition. Then I will turn the time over to you for your speeches.”
That was good. I had put a lot of time and passion into my essay and maybe it would supersede our tuxedos. Is supersede the right word?
Dawn went on. “Third, some of you may not have extensive experience on stage.”
Grandma raised her hand.
Dawn glanced our way, a look of irritation crossing her face. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
Grandma raised her hand higher.
“Um, yes?” Dawn said.
“I’m actually a student of the stage. If you’d like me to give some tips to my fellow competitors…”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dawn said before Grandma could finish.
Diego looked at me and winked, so I winked right back.
Dawn kept talking. “Please speak directly into the microphone and try to enunciate your words.”
Grandma whispered in my ear about projecting sound from my stomach but I wouldn’t listen. Instead I sat up and showed Dawn I was being attentive.
“The hot-air balloons will be launched near the end of the speeches. This was not my idea, I’ll have you know. In fact I think it will be distracting but the powers that be, I’m not naming names”—she looked over at a couple people standing by the pancake table—“some people thought it would be a good idea.”
This was just the beginning of Dawn Allerton’s instructions.
As she spoke, Grandma seemed to be taking mental notes. I, on the other hand, sat as crouched as I could because more and more people were showing up. I had never seen so many people at the Strawberry Pancake Breakfast in my life. Were they here because of the Strawberry Ambassador Competition?
Finally, Dawn Allerton announced the order for our speeches. This was VERY important. We needed to go soon. As soon as possible. My face was starting to itch, my heart was thumping, and Grandma kept raising her hand, which was annoying Dawn Allerton to high heaven, as my Grandpa Arthur would say. The sooner we got this over with, the better.
“We’ll start with Diego and Dan Martinez,” Dawn said. Diego seemed happy with that. “Then we’ll have Ellie and Tamara Hansen.”
Please, us next. Please, us next.
“Then we’ll have Cooper Hedengren and Rich Bailey.”
Okay, fine. Just not last. Not last.
“Next will be Zoe and Mark Jackson.”
Of course. What else could go wrong?
Dawn Allerton looked at Grandma and me again, and her nose crinkled like we smelled bad. Like we SMELLED bad. How dare she! “Coming in the rear, we’ll have the dapper duo here, Meg and Sally Stokes.”
“Thank you!” Grandma said cheerfully.
Dawn gave her a look and handed her clipboard to the guy.
Diego looked over at me and mouthed, Sorry.
I think he genuinely felt bad for me, and I didn’t blame him.
18
My Grandma, the Gazelle
Dawn got up on the stage and spoke into the microphone.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the town of Jewel’s 100th Strawberry Days!”
Cheers. Clapping. Yelling.
My stomach started churning.
“We are thrilled to introduce the winners of our essay contest and the contestants in our Strawberry Ambassador Competition.”
Grandma whispered, “I am so happy to be a part of this. I am so, so happy.”
“Okay, Grandma,” I whispered. “Okay.”
“We are going to start with Diego and Daniel Martinez, who are from a family who have lived in this town for many years. I’ll read an excerpt from Diego’s essay and then let them introduce themselves,” Dawn said.
She began to read, and Diego’s essay was good. He talked about his great-grandparents immigrating to the United States and what home means and love and oh my gosh, Grandma was crying. Should my grandma be crying? Should she be so clearly rooting for our competition? She even blew her nose louder than a foghorn, for all to see and hear.
The crowd went wild when Dawn finished Diego’s excerpt and Grandma Sally stood up. “Marvelous!” she said to Diego. “Just marvelous!”
Diego did a bow to Grandma and then to the crowd. Barf. And then he and Dan got up on the stage. Diego waved at me and Grandma said, “He’s such a nice boy.”
I nodded. “He’s okay.”
Then Dan got out a guitar.
“Hey, everyone, I’m Dan.”
“And I’m Diego and we thought we’d sing our introduction because music is life.”
They then proceeded to harmonize an original song about strawberries and Jewel.
At the end, again the crowd going wild, Grandma leaned over. “We need to up our game.”
Before I could ask what she meant, Dawn got back up.
Diego sat down by me and said, “I believe in you.”
I stuck out my tongue.
Ellie’s essay was also good. Then their speech was amazing. Grandma shifted in her chair.
When Cooper and Mr. Bailey got up there, Grandma whispered, “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“I have an idea.”
“What idea?” Now my stomach was churning so hard that my breakfast was turning into butter. What idea did Grandma have? What was she thinking? Oh please, Grandma. Please just be normal. Please. This was why I wanted to go first.
Dawn looked over at us and scowled. I buttoned my lip.
When Cooper and Mr. Bailey were done, Grandma said, “When the next group gets up there, after she reads the essay, bring the Alzheimer’s Association sign and follow me.”
“Follow you where?”
“Shhh,” someone said.
Dawn started reading Zoe’s essay and I leaned over to Grandma and said, “We can’t leave. We’re next.”
“Trust me, Meg. Trust me.”
Oh my gosh. I looked back at Lin. She gave me a thumbs-up. I looked at Dad. He smiled and mouthed, You got this.
I needed someone to help me. Help me keep Grandma from going rogue, otherwise Dawn might disqualify us. We couldn’t go anywhere right now. We couldn’t have ideas at a time like this. We were about to go on stage!
“Stick with the plan, Grandma,” I hissed.
“Meg,” she said, as Zoe and her dad were walking up the stairs to the stage, “trust me.”
Then she got down, wiggled out of her chair, slunk between the tables, and started low-running toward the hot-air balloons, which at this point were all blown up and lifting off into the sky one by one like Dawn said they would.
Diego looked at me. “Did your grandma just run away?”
My head was pounding.
“She’s going to the bathroom,” I said, but we were both watching her cross the field like a gazelle. She went straight to the strawberry balloon.
Then Melanie said something to her. Grandma said something back. On the stage Zoe was talking and her dad was holding up pictures of wildlife.
I looked back at Grandma and SHE WAS IN THE STRAWBERRY BALLOON BASKET waving her arms at me like she was alone on a desert island and had spotted a plane.
“Whoa,” Diego said. “Was this part of your presentation?”
&nbs
p; I closed my eyes. What was I going to do? Do I get on the stage alone? Do I hide in the truck? What was she doing??? I looked at those Leaf bikes, those beautiful Leaf bikes.
“Meg,” Diego whispered. “Is that even allowed?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered back.
Zoe’s dad was talking now. They were almost done. I was sweating great drops of brown foundation. I had no choice. She was my partner and we had to stick together. Those were the rules. I looked at Diego. “Wish me luck,” I said, then grabbed our charity sign and ran toward the giant strawberry.
19
Our Speech
When I was about halfway across the field, Dawn Allerton got on the PA system and said, “Next we have Meg and Sally Stokes.”
Then she got quiet.
I kept running. It was a lot farther than it looked, and the poster was kind of hard to manage.
“Meg Stokes? Sally Stokes?”
I guess someone said something, probably Diego, and she saw me, because suddenly her voice came booming over the microphone, like she was yelling into it. “Will the girl in the top hat in the middle of the field stop immediately.”
I froze.
“Meg Stokes, is that you?” Dawn said.
The hot-air balloons were loud from all the fire the pilots were using to keep them blown up. I looked over at the stage. The entire crowd was looking at me. Dad was standing up.
Then I heard a different noise.
Grandma had Melanie Bacon’s megaphone, and she said, “Keep coming, Megan Amelia, keep coming!”
“Meg Stokes?” Dawn Allerton said. “Would you like to participate or not?”
What a question! The worst question in the world!
“I would like to participate!” I yelled, but there was no way anyone could hear me.
Instead they probably heard Grandma, who must have been projecting from her stomach into the megaphone because her voice boomed into the air, “Dawn Allerton! Please continue the program! Read the excerpt of Meg’s essay and we will be ready for our part.”
“What?” Dawn said.
Grandma waved at me to come and then she said, “Meg Stokes, proceed to the strawberry balloon. And Dawn Allerton, the show must go on!”
The tuxedo now seemed like the least worst part of this situation.
“Do not go to the strawberry balloon, Meg Stokes,” Dawn said.
I looked over at the stage.
Then back at Grandma.
“Megan.” Grandma was waving at me furiously. “Trust me!”
And so I did.
I felt like I had to.
She was my partner. Dawn deliberately said, stick with your partner. If I went back, alone, it would be all over.
I ran toward Grandma, who gave me a triumphant fist pump.
“Go ahead and read her essay!” Grandma yelled into the megaphone.
There was no way Dawn was going to do it.
It was all over.
I got to the balloon just as Dawn’s voice came over the PA.
“ ‘Why I Love Strawberry Days,’ by Meg Stokes.”
I turned and looked. She was reading it!
“Hurry,” Grandma said, and I threw the poster at Melanie, and Grandma pulled me into the balloon. I kind of fell on my head.
“Hey, Meg,” Melanie said when I was in a pile on the floor of her balloon basket.
“Hey, Melanie,” I said.
She was stoking the fire or whatever you do that makes the balloon float and was wearing a sweatshirt that said, Follow your dreams, they know the way. Her balloon team was holding ropes and waiting for her go-ahead. “I’m really excited to be a part of this,” Melanie said.
This was unbelievable.
I was in a hot-air balloon.
My whole future was across a soccer field.
“Grandma. What are you doing? What are we doing?”
“Making history, my dear, making history.”
I managed to stand up.
Dawn finished the excerpt and then the whole crowd looked over at us.
“Hit it!” Grandma yelled at Melanie, and Melanie revved the fire and motioned to her balloon people, and we floated up.
I grabbed the basket, my stomach dropping.
I had always wanted to go up in a balloon but not like this. NOT LIKE THIS.
Grandma took the Alzheimer’s poster and held it up. “Smile,” she said.
“They can’t see my face, Grandma.”
“Yes, they can. That’s why we put on the makeup. Just smile and wave.”
So I smiled and waved as we lifted up into the sky.
Grandma handed me the poster but I didn’t know she was handing me the poster so I dropped it and we all watched as it floated down to the grass.
“Oh well,” Grandma said to me.
Oh well? Oh well?!
“My name is Sally Stokes,” Grandma said into the megaphone. “I am the proud grandma of this strong feisty determined young girl.”
“We can’t hear you,” Dawn said over the PA.
The balloon was floating the wrong way. “Can you get the balloon over the stage?” Grandma asked Melanie, off megaphone.
“Sorry, I’m at the mercy of the wind and it just changed direction,” Melanie Bacon said.
Oh. My. Gosh.
Grandma tried again, this time screaming into the megaphone. “MY NAME IS SALLY STOKES. I AM THE PROUD GRANDMA OF THIS STRONG FEISTY DETERMINED YOUNG GIRL.”
It was no use.
We were over the trees now, floating up up up into the clouds and far far far away from the town of Jewel’s 100th Strawberry Days annual Strawberry Pancake Breakfast.
20
Hot Air
And that is why I am declaring war on Grandma.
WAR!
She risked everything. Everything!
Can you imagine being in that strawberry, watching those beautiful bikes turn into specks on the horizon? Turn into dots of nothingness? Turn into far-off dreams you would never reach? While your entire town witnesses your downfall? Can you? Can you???
Some might say, Meg. You did make history. Never before have two participants in the Strawberry Ambassador Competition floated into the atmosphere right before they were supposed to go on stage.
Some might say, Meg, the videos of you and your grandma waving in a giant strawberry went viral and people around the world are posting about it.
Some might even say, Meg, didn’t your grandma promise to put on a show and didn’t she follow through?
All these things are true.
And because of these true statements, I am declaring war.
We had just flown away from the first event of the competition in a hot-air balloon.
We did, however, finish the speech.
Grandma said her part and then, I don’t know why, but I said mine, all on the megaphone, over the side of the balloon to anyone who might be able to hear—the birds, a far-off airplane, and then of course Melanie Bacon, who put her hand over her heart by the time we were done.
“That was really good,” Melanie said.
“Meg wrote most of it,” Grandma said. “She’s a fantastic writer.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled even though I was seething mad at her and determined to never speak to her again. Writers are suckers for compliments.
After that Grandma started talking with Melanie, who was very sorry that the wind was so unpredictable and Grandma was all, “Oh puffo! This is the best morning of my life!”
And that was when it really set in, really and truly set in. Best morning of her life?
I was fuming, billowing up in anger, and after the one friendly exchange about my writing, I decided I would really not talk to her, not while I was boiling in utter despair.
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So while we were flying and Grandma was talking to Melanie about how her family got into ballooning, I looked out on the town of Jewel. My town. My beautiful town, and I thought, This day will never be forgotten by the citizens of Jewel.
I also thought, Being in a hot-air balloon is different than I’d imagined.
I had never seen Jewel from the sky. I’d never seen anything from the sky, actually. There was a blanket of trees all different colors of green, like the quilts people sit on for picnics. There were also square and rectangle houses in between the trees, with cars that looked like tiny toys driving along.
The thing that made me almost gasp, but not loud enough for Grandma to hear because I was furious, was seeing the clear blue lake by our house.
I could see it!
And the tiny island in the middle where me and Hattie and Dad would sometimes go fishing. And if I squinted, our house. It was strange and kind of amazing to see it all from the clouds.
But of course, I was still mad and none of that mattered. But it was cool! How could I feel so many things at the same time?
Anyway, once we got on the ground and Melanie’s balloon team met us with Melanie’s balloon truck for the ride back to the park and we had to pack the whole thing up and it took pretty much our whole lives and I did not say one word the whole time, once all that happened and we were in the balloon truck Grandma said, “Meg, I know it didn’t go as we planned, but I think it was still effective.”
I folded my arms and looked out the window. There were cows.
“Why are you so upset?”
Lots of cows.
Grandma looked at Melanie, and Melanie looked at Grandma. Then Grandma looked at me again. “Meg, come on. It’s not so bad.”
“Grandma,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I’d vowed not to talk to her, but this was getting ridiculous. “Not so bad? It’s over. She’s going to kick us out.”
“Who’s going to kick us out?”
“Dawn Allerton.”
“Oh puffo.”
“Oh puffo? Oh puffo? We just flew away from the breakfast!” My voice was no longer steady.
“It was fun! It added to the experience,” Grandma said. “Melanie, don’t you think so?”
The War with Grandma Page 8