“And with the air screen, the glasses can show the time and make calls too,” says Mare.
“It also has buttons to access your homework and your practice schedule, doesn’t it?” asks Ander.
“Yes, and let’s say you need to be at home by four o’clock, the glasses will already know that. So they’ll remind you to hop on your aero-scooter by a certain time,” says Jax.
“We were going to add a countdown timer. Is that in there?” asks Ander.
“Yes, numbers will count down like a hologram in front of your face to remind you.”
“This is crazy!” I say. “Okay, what else?”
“If you’re walking down the path along the tree suites and you’re about to bump into someone because you aren’t paying attention, the glasses will inform you that you’re about to enter someone else’s space.”
Ander grins. “Yeah, the words, entering private space will float in front of you!”
I take the glasses off. “This is amazing! These glasses might even be better than the Ancestor App!”
“Yeah,” says Ander. “It’s too bad the judges can’t see what you’re seeing when you have them on though.”
“Aww,” says Mare. “Our presentation would be so much better if they could—if the whole audience could see too.”
We stand there in silence for a few seconds, probably all wondering the same thing. “Wait guys, could we do that? Could we put it up on a screen somehow?”
We exchange glances trying to decide if there’s a way to do it. Finally Ander breaks a random twig in half. “We were almost done with everything too.”
Jillian sighs. “We need to find a way, huh?”
Jax nods. “I think the judges would understand the capabilities of the glasses better if they could see them on the screen.”
I bite my thumb nail. “I guess we better get back to work.”
THE CRIMSON CURSE
After hearing about our Satellite Spectacle success, Seraphina and Gregor insist that we head to the Creativity Pool for some fun. My teammates dive in right away, in search of the lily pads, but I sit by the edge of the water instead. Being here reminds me of what Martina said last week. If it’s true, I have no right to swim here. I have no right to be here at all—even with an amazing Satellite Spectacles. Sure, Seraphina told us we won the Piedmont Challenge fairly, but how does she know Principal Bermuda didn’t change the results? She also told us what our highest category scores were, but that doesn’t mean anything either. It doesn’t mean we scored the highest in the whole state of New York. Besides, mine was Swirl and Spark Recall. That’s not even a real category.
Seraphina comes over and sits down next to me, sticking her purple polished toes into the water. “Hey Kia.”
“Hey.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not getting nervous for the competition, are you?”
“No, I’m not nervous. I don’t get that nervous.”
She laughs. “Yes, I forgot. So what is it then? You don’t usually hang out by yourself.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that we all came from the same school? I mean everyone thought our school was cursed because no one had ever won before, and I know you said not to worry about that, and the rest of my team doesn’t seem worried anymore.”
“Okay, Kia. First of all . . . breathe.”
I take a breath.
“That’s better. So the rest of your team doesn’t seem worried. But you are.”
“Seraphina, Principal Bermuda is evil. He can make people do bad things. What if he got someone to switch our test scores, like the way he made Gregor smash our Ghost Gallery? What if he did that? It would mean one of us, or all of us, didn’t even score the highest. Then we really don’t belong here. The kids that did score highest belong here. I mean, if it was me, I’d want to know.”
“Do you think that the five of you don’t deserve to be here, that you’re not every bit as smart as the rest of the kids, that your ideas aren’t every bit as creative?”
“Well, I don’t know. I know we just thought up another really good invention, but we weren’t even able to figure out the problem-solving bars in the pool.”
She laughs. “Kia, what your team created at Camp Piedmont and what you’ve just created here in Québec is incredible.”
“Yeah, but I just keep thinking about what Martina said. Besides, no one at Crimson had ever won before, then suddenly this year Crimson has five winners.”
“I know all of that.”
“So can you help me find a way to know for sure, and not let the others know? I don’t want to wreck this for all of them, but it feels wrong to be here if we cheated. I want more than anything to be here and to finish our task and everything. I guess I just wish I could know for sure if he did something bad to get us here.”
“And who do you think would know for sure?”
I shrug.
“Do you think Andora would?”
“Yeah, but what if he fooled her too?”
“Andora is a smart person.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And she’s a good person. She would never allow cheating.”
“But what if she didn’t know?”
“Andora has a way of knowing things that we don’t about this competition, even stuff about Principal Bermuda.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and do you want to know something else? I had a talk with her about your team before I even met you.”
“You did?”
“Yes, all the preceptors met with her to discuss the children they would be working with. Most of our talk involved the rules of the competition, but some of it was about something else.”
“What was it about?”
“She said to me, ‘Seraphina, there will likely come a time when one or more of the children will question the validity of the results. They will wonder how it’s possible that all five of them advanced, considering they came from the same school—and that no student from Crimson Heights had ever done so in the competition before. It will be your job to reassure them. The manner in which they have become a team is unique, and as such, we have challenged the results. Be assured that each one of your children from Crimson has earned their rightful place here. If the time comes when one of them questions the validity of their presence here, it will be up to you to put their mind at ease.’”
“So Kia, you can relax. You and your teammates placed in the top five at the Piedmont Challenge—fair and square.”
“So you’re saying our scores definitely weren’t changed?”
Seraphina shakes her head. “They were not changed.”
“But Andora didn’t exactly say they weren’t changed.”
“She didn’t have to, Kia. When Andora says something, you can trust that she knows what she’s talking about.”
Seraphina hugs me, and deep down inside I believe her.
“You know, Kia, every once in a while, a person will be part of something special—something bigger than they ever imagined. I think the experience you’re having in this year’s Piedmont Challenge is your something special. You need to embrace the something special that has happened to you.”
“How do I do that?”
“Continue to question things you don’t understand, and be curious, just like you have been about this. But also know that you have a purpose, and I’m guessing it’s a pretty big purpose. Look inside yourself to see what you have to offer the world. Don’t doubt yourself. Believe in yourself because that’s when you’ll make great things happen.”
I don’t know what to say. But I know there’s nothing else I can do about the big coincidence at this year’s Piedmont Challenge—nothing except w
in this competition and show everyone, including Martina, that our team deserves to be here.
THE WARRIORS
On the last day before the Opening Ceremony, we walk with Seraphina and Gregor to the Creativity Pool for morning yoga. Seraphina thinks it will relax us before the competition, but I don’t think Gregor is happy about it. He lays down his rubber mat on the grass like the rest of us, but while Seraphina leads us in a routine, he keeps checking his watch for updates of the competition schedule.
We bend and stretch, doing poses called downward dog, cat cow, and warrior one. They seem like weird names to me, but Seraphina is all serious about it, so I get serious too.
I think of Grandma Kitty doing her exercises in her yard. She would definitely like this. When we’re finished, we lay on our backs and breathe real deep. Seraphina tells us to visualize the competition tomorrow—picture ourselves performing the skit for the judges, and picture ourselves solving the Swirl and Spark Recall task successfully together.
Finally, she sits up and jumps to her feet. “Okay, my Crimson Kids, great job! I bet you’ll feel relaxed and energized all day but like warriors ready to compete at the Piedmont Global Championships.”
My heart swells ten times its normal size when she says that.
“I love yoga,” says Jillian. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”
“Probably not. It’s Opening Ceremony day, remember?”
Jillian laughs. “Oh, right. I forgot.”
Oh my god, how could she forget that?
“Today is going to be busy. We have rehearsals all day and costume-making all night.”
“Costume-making?” asks Jillian.
“We already made our costumes,” Ander says.
“Not competition costumes,” says Seraphina. “Opening Ceremony costumes!”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yes, each team has been assigned an era of costumes to wear from their own country. Gregor and I have chosen what you’ll wear within that era and therefore what you’ll be making tonight.”
Jillian’s eyes are huge. “We make them?”
“Yes!” says Seraphina.
“What are they?” asks Jax.
“Will they be just as great as the ones we wore to the National Finals at Camp Piedmont?” I ask.
Gregor smiles. “I think you’ll be pleased with your attire—if you can find a way to make them in one day’s time.”
“One day?” asks Jillian. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“Each team is given the same amount of time. You may begin tonight after dinner and you’ll have until the Opening Ceremony tomorrow night to work on them.”
“What are the costumes?” asks Mare. “Do we have to wear something like those Martha Washington dresses again?”
“Can my shoes be more comfortable than the buckle ones we wore to the gala?” asks Ander. “Those hurt my feet.”
Gregor shakes his head. “I assure you, Ander, the comfort of your feet will not be an issue.”
“Good, because Freddie Dinkleweed needs to be in top form.”
Seraphina laughs. “Yes, Ander, we know. You’ll find out after dinner tonight. For now we need to focus on rehearsals.”
Gregor points to the brick path. “Please jog back to your tree suite and change. We’ll expect you in the Imagination Centre, room eighteen, in thirty minutes.”
We race back to the treehouse and Ander barely beats me to the wiggly bridge. I pass him and leap to the rock wall first. But he’s better at climbing than me, and he reaches the door first.
“I hate that rock wall,” I say. “It always slows me down.”
“I’d say your feet slow you down—and your hands, and your legs. But don’t worry, KK, I’ll coach you sometime.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We have twenty minutes before we have to meet Gregor and Seraphina so we stop at the floating playground before going upstairs to change. We grab the bean-bag blobs and try to start bouncing. But this time, instead of bouncing us to the top of the clouds, they bounce us around the room, in between the swirling ladder, behind the yellow pole, and around the spinning slide. Soon we crash into to each other like old-fashioned carnival bumper cars.
The door to the tree suite opens. “I see you’re all ready to rehearse.” Gregor stands in the doorway, looking stern as ever. I keep forgetting that even though he’s not as bad as we thought he was, he still is pretty strict. He still is Gregor.
“We’re just about ready,” Ander calls. “Just getting our creative energy flowing before we change.”
“You’re such a suck up,” says Mare.
“You can thank me later.” He grins, and we hop off our blobs.
Gregor points to the stairs. “Perhaps you should get your creative energy out of those sweaty clothes. I suggest you hurry.”
“But can’t we ride with you on the aero-cart?” he asks.
“No. I have supplies to transport and you need your exercise. You know what they say.”
I stand up straight. “It takes a fit brain and fit body to be at your creative best.”
“That’s right, Kia. I will see you all at the Imagination Centre.”
We reach room eighteen, a space similar to the gala room but smaller. The ceiling is high and the walls are covered with pretty tiles. It’s dark, too. I don’t think people at this university like light very much. Mare grabs our costume bags and tosses one to each of us. We head to the bathrooms to change and emerge a few minutes later as residents of Crimson Catropolis once again.
I skip out in my yellow overall shorts with pigtails in my hair. I’m getting used to this costume, I’ve worn it so much. Ander jumps out of the bathroom across the hall, wearing his black baseball pants, funky shirt and vest, and crazy jester hat—and none of it is inside out. Jax strolls out behind him, like always, flaring his black cape and tipping his top hat. Jillian twirls out next throwing her silver boa over her shoulder, and Mare follows behind while she’s still tying on her choker necklace.
It’s only been a little over a week since the Showcase Festival, but I almost forgot how much I love our costumes, especially now that Jillian fixed them up. It’ll be the first time Gregor and Seraphina see our skit with all of it put together: the dance, the box, the Satellite Spectacles—everything.
We’ve decorated a table with a map. It shows people all over the world wearing the Satellite Spectacles—with smiling faces, air screens, camera icons, and commands like car approaching, homework assignment due, and mom’s birthday floating around them. The box, which holds the Satellite Spectacles, is right in the center. Our team sign hangs from the front of the table with letters cut from colorful duct tape:
See the World More Clearly With Satellite Specs!
New York, USA
“Okay, my Crimson Kids,” says Seraphina. “I think it would be best if two of you stand on the ends of the table to start and three of you stand behind it. When the judges tell you to begin, you can simply lift the table together and carry it to the presentation area.”
“So, Seraphina,” says Mare.
“Yes?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Okay.”
“I think we should have something going on while we carry the table, so it’s not so awkward while the judges wait for us to start. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea. What do you want to say?”
“Remember last time, at the National Finals, we chanted part of our song? What if we make up something like that, like one of the chorus lines?”
So we figure out which chorus line to use, and soon we’re ready to start. The opening scene begins with everyone scurrying around preparing for my second visit to Crimson Catropolis.
Little Girl stays hidden behind the table.
Jillian—Madam Sparkles—flits
around talking to everyone who will listen, while Jax—the Gatekeeper—paces. Ander—Freddie Dinkleweed—entertains them with his juggling, and Mare—the Teenager—files her nails while wondering what is taking me—Little Girl—so long to arrive.
On cue, Little Girl skips out from behind the table. Freddie Dinkleweed dances a jig. “She’s here! She’s here!”
Madam Sparkles claps her hands. “Oh wonderful, Dahling. You made it back to Crimson Catropolis!”
“Yes, I did!” Little Girl exclaims. “I got Freddie’s message. What is it? What is so important?”
The Gatekeeper walks slowly to her. “You were summoned here for one very important reason.”
Teenager Mare smirks. “Yeah. You have a job to do.”
“Me? What kind of job can I do?”
“A very important one indeed,” says the Gatekeeper.
“But I’m only small. I don’t think I can do a really big important job.”
“Oh, Dahling. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Here in Crimson Catropolis, anything and everything is possible no matter how big you are, no matter how small.”
“Really?” asks Little Girl.
“Really, Small One,” says Freddie. “Or no matter how different you are at all.”
“You just need a dash of confidence, and I just so happen to have some to share.” Madam Sparkles pulls her silver boa from her neck and drapes it around Little Girl and back off again.
Little Girl spins around. “Is that my confidence?” she asks.
“Right-o, that’s it!” says Freddie. “That’s it indeed!”
Little Girl looks at her arms and legs and hands. “Now that I have confidence, I think I’m ready to hear what my job is.”
“Are you sure?” asks Teenager Mare.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure I can do whatever job you need me to do. I’m in Crimson Catropolis, and I have my confidence, so I can do anything.”
The Gatekeeper walks to her side. “Then yes, you can, Little One. Yes, you can.”
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