“You mean—?”
I speak as softly as I can. “You can’t quit! You have a really good shot, er, chance. If you’re not elected president, who will clean mercury out of the water?”
“But I thought—”
“Mom.” I grip her hand more tightly. “Who will work to keep guns out of the hands of people like Applebaum? Who will help that poor guy and his family from New Hampshire?”
“What guy?” Mom asks.
“Never mind.” I flop back, exasperated. I can’t believe I’m trying to convince Mom to stay in the race. It feels like it was only yesterday that I would have done anything to stop her. Getting shot at certainly changes one’s perspective.
“Look, Mom, you’re so close now. You can’t quit because—”
“Vanessa, I’m afraid for your life. And nothing is worth jeopardizing that.” Mom clears her throat. “Not even the presidency.”
“But you’ve wanted this since you were ten!” I run my tongue over my dry lips. “Mom, do you know what courage is?”
“Of course I do. Where is this going? I’ve got to get you checked out of here. And then there’s the press conference where I have to announce—”
“Please, Mom.”
Mom stops talking and looks at me. Really looks at me. Something she hasn’t done in a long time. I swallow past my sore throat. “Mom, I realize you’re afraid. I was afraid, too. But I think this is one of those times when we need to have courage, when it’s okay to be afraid, but we need to do what’s right anyway.”
Mom puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh, baby.”
“Please promise me you won’t drop out of the race at the press conference today. Please give it some time. At least think about it.”
“Vanessa,” Mom says, “I have thought about it.”
I swallow hard. “Then be afraid, Mom.” I swallow again; my throat is killing me. “But have the courage to do what’s right anyway.”
I squint in the bright sunlight. I can’t believe Mom gave in and allowed me to sit with her at the press conference. I can’t believe I want to. I sip from a bottle of cold water, grateful that someone left it on the table for me. Not only is my throat sore, but the air outside is hot, making me sweaty and thirsty. Couldn’t Mom have done this inside, where there is actual air conditioning? This humid weather is not at all conducive to a good hair situation.
Mom points to one of the many reporters seated in front of us. “Yes, Bob?”
Bob stands. “This question is for Vanessa. How are you feeling?”
My stomach gurgles and I’m totally embarrassed. “I guess I’m a little hungry.”
The crowd laughs.
“But I’m feeling great. My…it hardly hurts at all.”
Mom smiles at me, then turns toward the reporters again. “Miriam.”
“Thank you, Governor Rothrock.”
I like the sound of that. But I’ll like the sound of “President Rothrock” even more. Please don’t tell them you’re dropping out, Mom. Please.
“What happened to the shooter?” Miriam asks.
Mom nods to Mr. Adams, who is sitting on the other side of her.
“The shooter is in custody facing criminal charges,” he says in a serious voice. “Franklin Applebaum became a math teacher at Lawndale Academy this past school year, we discovered, to get close to the governor’s daughter and try to influence the governor’s decision to run for president.” Franklin? “He had no criminal record at the time he was hired. But in searching his home, agents discovered that Mr. Applebaum had a cache of guns hidden in a trunk in his attic, along with dozens of magazines about firearms. Mr. Applebaum did not use one of his own guns during the attempted assassination.”
Assassination? Hearing the word sends a chill along my spine despite the heat. I sat in that lunatic’s classroom every day, worrying about whether or not I could draw a rhomboid!
Mr. Adams is still talking, so I focus on what he’s saying.
“They also found diary entries in Mr. Applebaum’s home that prove he was vehemently opposed to the governor’s views on gun control. Investigators uncovered dozens of threatening letters addressed to the governor’s daughter near those diary entries.”
I gasp. He’d written way more letters than I actually received. It was a good idea to have a guard posted at my locker.
“Unfortunately,” Mr. Adams goes on, “we have discovered that someone from the local police department gave Mr. Applebaum the gun used in the assassination attempt. We are still trying to learn how he got the gun past security and into Mr. Applebaum’s possession. That officer is currently in custody and facing criminal charges as well.” Mr. Adams takes a swig of water, then puts his palms flat on the table as he says, “When Governor Rothrock is elected—”
Sweat is beading above Mom’s upper lip. I will her to look at me. Have the courage.
“Governor Rothrock,” a reporter shouts, interrupting Mr. Adams. “Since this terrible incident, have you considered dropping out of the race and staying home with your daughter?”
Mom presses her palms on the table and inhales.
Mr. Adams says, “Governor Rothrock has more resolve than—”
Mom holds up a hand, and Mr. Adams stops talking. “Thanks. I’ll take this one.”
She looks at me, and I smile at her. Please don’t quit, Mom. I cross my fingers under the table. Please!
“What happened at the convention is very unfortunate. As a mother, I’m devastated.” Mom touches my shoulder.
I realize my eyes are closed. I open them and see the crowd of reporters quiet, leaning forward. Don’t say it, Mom.
“No one should see that happen to her little girl.”
I’m okay, Mom. Applebaum is locked away.
“Someone like Franklin Applebaum should never have had access to a gun. But he did. To several of them, in fact. And that means one thing to me.”
I’m crossing my toes, too, inside my shoes. Do what’s right, Mom!
“It means that when I am president, I will work tirelessly to keep guns out of the hands of criminals. I will work tirelessly to protect not just my child, but all children.” Mom smiles at me. “Of course I’m not going to drop out of this race. There’s too much work to be done for our children’s future.”
I rocket out of my chair, knocking over my water bottle, and wrap my arms around Mom’s neck.
“Nessa?”
I grab Mom’s hand and thrust it into the air and smile like it’s the best day of my life, just like I was supposed to do at the Democratic National Convention. I lean toward the microphone and say, “Rothrock and Miller. They’re going to go all the way!”
OHMYGOD! Did I just say that?
Cameras whir and lights flash.
And I, Vanessa Rothrock, age thirteen and a quarter, let go of Mom’s hand, pull out the sides of my purple skirt, and curtsy.
Curtsy. C-U-R-T-S-Y. Curtsy.
Mrs. Perez’s DROP-DEAD Delicious Lemon Squares
(If Mrs. Perez isn’t handy, get an adult to help you with the oven work.)
1 ¾ cups plus ¼ cup all-purpose flour
¾ cup plus ¼ cup confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 cup margarine, melted
4 large eggs
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ cup fresh-squeezed lemon juice
Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease a 9 × 13-inch pan.
2. In a medium bowl, stir together 1 ¾ cups of the flour, ¾ cup of the confectioners’ sugar, and the grated lemon peel. Blend in the melted margarine. Press the mixture into the bottom of the prepared pan and prick all over with fork.
3. Bake in the preheated oven for 18 minutes, or until golden.
4. In a large bowl, beat the eggs. In a separate bowl, combine the granulated sugar, the baking powder, and the remaining ¼ cup of flour. Stir the sugar mixture into the eggs.
Finally, stir in the lemon juice. Pour this mixture over the baked crust and return the pan to the oven.
5. Bake for an additional 6 minutes, or until the filling is set. Allow to cool completely. Sprinkle the remaining ¼ cup of confectioners’ sugar over the top. Cut into 20 squares.
6. Enjoy!
Dear Reader,
According to the Constitution, only three things are required for a person to be eligible to become president of the United States:
1. A person must be a native-born citizen of the United States.
2. A person must be at least thirty-five years old.
3. A person must have lived in the United States for at least fourteen years.
That’s it.
To learn more about the Constitution, go to: www.archives.gov/national-archives-experience/charters/constitution.htm.
My mom ran in the primaries—those are elections held in each state to determine who gets to run for president during the November elections. When a person wins his or her party’s nomination, a formal announcement will be made at that party’s national convention. My mom won the right to run as the Democratic candidate in the national elections for president. A formal announcement of her candidacy was made at the Democratic National Convention before her big speech…and we all know what happened after that!
A fun place to learn about the government and the election process is: http://bensguide.gpo.gov/9–12/index.htm.
For virtual tours, information about American history, and quizzes and games, try www.whitehousekids.gov.
You can also learn about Victoria Woodhull, the first woman who ran for president (fifty years before women were even allowed to vote), at this site: www.woodhull.org/victoria.php.
As you know, I’m a spelling bee aficionado. (aficionado—noun—fan; devotee; enthusiast.) Whether or not you compete in spelling bees, you can learn more about them by checking out: www.spellingbee.com.
I love playing Scrabble with my mom, even though she beats me every time.
But I’m getting better. In fact, I finally thought of a word that uses both the “j” and the “x”: jinx—verb—to bring bad luck to. Too bad I didn’t have an “n” or an “i” in my rack that night I was playing with Mom.
Did you know Scrabble was invented by a man named Alfred Mosher Butts? That’s right: Butts. (Butts. B-u-t-t-s. Butts.) Mom probably wishes his last name were Derriere!
You can find out more about the history of Scrabble at: http://hasbro.com/scrabble/pl/page.history/dn/home.cfm.
For fun, try the Scrabble Dictionary or Word Builder at this site: http://hasbro.com/scrabble/home.cfm.
To learn about Scrabble clubs, tournaments, or the Word of the Day, explore the National Scrabble Association at: www2.scrabble-assoc.com/.
One of my favorite books to help improve one’s Scrabble playing is: Everything Scrabble by Joe Edley and John D. Williams, Jr.
That’s it for now. Have fun! And wish my mom luck in the November elections!
Love,
Vanessa Rothrock
About the Author
Donna Gephart grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. (Go, Eagles!) When she was a kid, she loved riding her purple bike to the local library.
Today, she lives in South Florida with her husband, two sons, one cat, and a dog (who follows her everywhere). She still enjoys riding her bike and spends a lot of time at the local library.
Visit www.donnagephart.com to learn more.
Published by Delacorte Press an imprint of Random House Children’s Books a division of Random House, Inc. New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Donna Gephart
All rights reserved.
Delacorte Press and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gephart, Donna.
As if being 12¾ isn’t bad enough, my mother is running for president! / by Donna Gephart.
p cm.
Summary: Preparing for spelling bees, having a secret admirer, and waiting for her chest size to catch up with her enormous feet are pressure enough, but twelve-year-old Vanessa must also deal with loneliness and very real fears as her mother, Florida’s Governor, runs for President of the United States.
[1. Politics, Practical—Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters—Fiction. 3. Spelling bees—Fiction. 4. Death threats—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Self-confidence—Fiction. 7. Florida—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G293463As 2008
[Fic]—dc22
2007027601
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-84645-8
v3.0
As If Being 12 3/4 Isn't Bad Enough, My Mother Is Running for President! Page 15