Annie's Life in Lists

by Kristin Mahoney

  So are we going to talk to them? We still aren’t sure.

  Three reasons Ted says he’s not sure we should ask Mom and Dad about the letter

  1. They might just be mad that we looked through their papers.

  2. What difference does it make? It’s not like this will make them move back to Brooklyn.

  3. If they’d hide something this big from us, I don’t know if I feel like talking to them anyway.

  Two reasons I’m not so sure about asking them either

  1. Same as Ted’s first reason. What if we get in trouble for snooping?

  2. I’m afraid that we’re wrong. I’m afraid they’ll say our move had nothing to do with Dad’s job, and that I really was the only reason we left Brooklyn.

  I’m starting to feel more and more on edge every time I’m around my parents. Maybe because I’m irritated at them for keeping something from us, or maybe because I’m afraid they’re trying to protect me from truth I don’t want to hear (and maybe a little of both). Either way, winter break is the worst time to feel like you want to get away from your parents, because you’re pretty much trapped with them for days on end.

  Five things I’ve done during the rest of winter break while trying to avoid Mom and Dad

  1. Holed up in my room and knit more of the scarf Aunt Pen helped me start at Thanksgiving.

  2. Played video games with Ted in the basement.

  3. Watched too much TV for my mother’s comfort.

  4. Knocked icicles off the gutters with a broomstick (a surprisingly satisfying activity).

  5. Written letters to Millie.

  Six things I’ve told Millie in my letters

  1. Mr. Allbright doesn’t give too much homework, and on Fridays he gives assignments like “bake cookies” or “hug a tree.”

  2. I haven’t seen any new movies because the movie theater here doesn’t get anything until it’s been out forever. Snoreburger.

  3. Our house is on a hill, and when it snows, we can sled in the front yard as long as someone stands in the street to make sure no cars are coming.

  4. I miss our favorite pizza place in Brooklyn. The pizza here isn’t nearly as good—too much tomato sauce, and the crust isn’t thin enough.

  5. I miss the drugstore on her corner, where the owner always gave us free lollipops.

  6. I miss her.

  I don’t know why I haven’t told her anything about the severance letter, or Ted’s and my new theories about the move. If we still lived in Brooklyn, I would have told her right away. Something about not being around someone every day makes it harder to explain the things that worry you.

  Four things Millie has written in her letters to me

  1. She got a hamster for Hanukkah.

  2. She went shopping in Manhattan with her mom and they walked back across the Brooklyn Bridge because the subways were all messed up, and it was FREEZING.

  3. All the fifth graders are going camping at Bear Mountain at the end of the school year.

  4. There is a new kid in school from France. Her name is Juliette. She is cool.

  I want to know more about this cool French Juliette. Was she one of the fork-knife-spoon trio on Halloween? Is she going to be Millie’s best friend now? If Millie is going to have a different best friend, who will be mine?

  Four thoughts on best friends

  1. They can make you feel safe, like you always have someone to hang out with no matter what.

  2. They can make you feel lonely if you suddenly find yourself without them.

  3. Maybe it’s okay not to have a best friend. Or to have more than one best friend.

  4. Maybe you can’t get everything you need from one person.

  JANUARY

  Nine reasons I was late to school on the first day back from winter break

  1. We got a phone call in the morning that the school buses were running late because of icy conditions on the roads.

  2. I thought that meant I could take my time getting ready and maybe even go back to bed for a while, but Dad said no, he would drop me off on his way to work. (This was annoying because I was actually really looking forward to riding the bus. Have I mentioned that I was ready for some space from my parents?)

  3. I couldn’t find my water bottle.

  4. Mom, who usually helps me find stuff, was on an early conference call with a client and said we could only interrupt her if there was an emergency.

  5. Dad said a missing water bottle didn’t count as an emergency, so he filled an old water bottle and put it in my lunch box.

  6. The cap on the old water bottle was loose, and it leaked all over my backpack.

  7. Dad spent about three hours looking for his ID badge for work. (Okay, it was more like ten minutes, but it felt like three hours.)

  8. When we got outside, it was so cold that the car wouldn’t start.

  9. When Dad finally got the car started after five tries, he realized he’d forgotten his coffee thermos and he had to run back inside for it. He came back out just as the bus was passing our driveway. We wound up behind it for most of the drive. I stared out my window as the kids on the bus made stupid faces at us and wrote with their fingers on the steamed-up windows.

  By the time we got to school, I wasn’t speaking to Dad. (Not that he cared. He was grouchy too, grumbling about how he’d never had to worry about starting the car on cold days in the city.) And I was feeling very ready to be around people outside my family again.

  Five things that actually made me feel worse once I was at school

  1. Zora told me Mrs. Martin, the bus driver, had given all the kids Hershey’s Kisses she had left over from Christmas.

  2. Amelia said, “Zora, let’s show Annie our watches!” and she took Zora’s left wrist and thrust both of their arms toward me so I could see that they had matching watches with lines of little pink elephants marching across the green wristbands.

  3. Amelia added, “This was my Christmas present to Zora. My parents got me one too. Elephants have been our favorite animal forever, right, Z?” Zora gave a quiet nod, but she looked a little embarrassed at the way Amelia was making a big deal about the watches.

  4. Without thinking, I said, “Really, elephants? I thought cats were Zora’s favorite.” Zora said, “They are. But I liked elephants when I was little.” Amelia looked me straight in the eye and said, “We have both always loved elephants.”

  5. At lunch, while Zora was still waiting in line for her food, Amelia pulled a postcard out of her backpack and said, “You guys have to hear this note Zora sent me from Jamaica. She’s so funny.” She started to read: “ ‘Dear Amelia, Thank you so much for the elephant watch you gave me before I left. I love it! I packed it in my trunk so I could bring it to Jamaica with me. Love, your best friend, Zora.’ ”

  “What’s so funny about that?” Kate asked.

  “Don’t you get it?” Amelia said, like Kate was an idiot. “It’s an elephant watch, and she said she packed it in her trunk?”

  “Oh, okay,” Kate said, throwing me a sidelong glance. But all I was paying attention to was the postcard. Because as Amelia was sliding it back into her backpack, I caught a glimpse of Zora’s sign-off. It just said, “See ya soon, Z.” It did not say, “Love, your best friend, Zora.” Amelia had made that up.

  I know all this shouldn’t have made me feel crummy, but it did. I had never known kids who gave other kids Christmas presents unless they were in the same family and their parents made them do it. It was like Amelia and Zora had this serious grown-up friendship. And why did Amelia lie about the way Zora signed the postcard? We already knew they had been friends practically since they were born; she didn’t have to make stuff up to prove it.

  And three things at school that eventually made m
e feel better

  1. Zora brought shell bracelets back from Jamaica for me, Amelia, and Kate. Mine had a little dolphin charm dangling off it, Kate’s had a starfish, and Amelia’s had a sea horse. (Maybe it was my imagination, but Amelia looked a little disappointed with hers.)

  2. During Mr. Allbright’s lesson on reflexive pronouns, he asked us which word was grammatically correct, “hisself” or “himself.” A few minutes later, Kate passed me a piece of paper. On it she had drawn a coiled-up snake with sunglasses and arched eyebrows, and under it was written “Hisssself.” She also wrote, “Hang out after school today?”

  3. At lunch I called Mom and asked if I could go home with Kate, and she said it was okay as long as we did homework.

  Weird things I’ve always wondered

  1. What it would be like to spin with the clothes inside a dryer

  2. Who I would be if my parents had married other people

  3. Whether people actually see things the same way. Like, do things that look blue to me look red to other people? And if so, how would we ever know?

  4. If I had done one thing differently today—like tie my left shoe before my right one—would it have somehow made my whole life different? Or even changed the world?

  Five things Millie and I used to do on cold days in Brooklyn

  1. Go ice skating at the outdoor rink in Prospect Park

  2. Find snow in the park that no one had walked in yet, and write our names in it with a stick

  3. Sit by my living room window and count how many people slipped on the icy sidewalk

  4. Put broken crayons on wax paper on top of the radiator cover in Millie’s bedroom and see how long it took for them to melt (We learned the hard way that we had to use wax paper. The rainbow blob stain on the radiator cover was proof of that. Oops.)

  5. Read my mom’s high school yearbook. I know this sounds boring, but Mom’s yearbook is hilarious. Everyone had gigantic hair. Millie liked to quiz me by covering up the names and seeing how many people I could identify. (It was a lot, partly because of my crazy memory, and partly because I had spent many cold and rainy days with that yearbook.)

  Twenty-four things to do after school on a frigid day in Clover Gap

  1. Try not to fall off the bus seat, which is too crowded because everyone is carrying backpacks and wearing parkas.

  2. Walk from the bus stop using little chicken steps so you don’t slip on the ice.

  3. Write your name in the snow—or make a snow angel—just about anywhere you want. (There’s a lot more undisturbed snow in Clover Gap than there was in Prospect Park.)

  4. If you are lucky, you will be with a friend like Kate, and she will help you make snowballs to use against the older neighbor kids who got home before you did.

  5. Yell, “RUN!” to Kate when she reaches the steps in front of her house, because the older kids are hiding behind a bush and throwing snowballs.

  6. Throw snowballs back at the offending kids and run inside, slamming the door behind you.

  7. Watch through the window as offending kids restock their snowballs for later.

  8. Poke around in Kate’s pantry until you find satisfactory snacks.

  9. Go outside and collect a bowl full of clean snow.

  10. Make snow cream. (Mix the snow with cream, sugar, and vanilla. I had never tried this, probably because clean snow was harder to come by in Brooklyn.)

  11. Eat snow cream.

  12. Discuss different businesses you could start.

  13. Decide that best options for new businesses are used-book store and private-investigator service.

  14. Have a third snack.

  15. Hear Kate’s babysitter’s fifth reminder about homework.

  16. Start homework.

  17. Talk about who in our class has crushes on whom. (If Mr. Allbright were reading this, he would be happy that I remembered to use “whom” there.)

  18. Do a little more homework.

  19. Ask Kate questions about people in school (more on that later).

  20. Practice writing our names in bubble letters.

  21. Say goodbye to Kate because her babysitter says we aren’t getting enough homework done and it’s time to leave.

  22. Call Mom and ask her to pick me up.

  23. Go home and finish homework.

  24. Bug older brother.

  One good thing about that severance letter: after I showed it to Ted, he blamed me a lot less for our move to Clover Gap. I was definitely feeling more and more awkward around my parents as I wondered what they weren’t telling us (like how serious were our money problems, really, and were things okay with their jobs now?). But at least things between Ted and me were almost back to normal. Which meant we talked more, and I also wasn’t afraid to bug him like I used to.

  Ten great ways to annoy an older brother

  1. If his bedroom door is closed, stand in the doorway with your arms and legs braced against the sides of the door frame. When he opens the door, you will give him a heart attack. It’s worth the wait.

  2. Sing. Sing whatever you want. Anything will annoy him as long as it’s coming from you.

  3. If possible, change the song lyrics so they involve a girl you suspect he likes.

  4. Sit directly beside him when he’s watching TV.

  5. Stand in front of the screen while he’s playing a video game.

  6. Look at him during meals.

  7. Call him a cute nickname. (In this case it works particularly well, since Ted hates his cute nickname, which, of course, is “Teddy.”)

  8. Lean ever so slightly toward his side of the backseat when you’re in the car.

  9. Put heart stickers on his notebooks.

  10. Mimic everything he says. (Sure, it’s immature, but so are brothers.)

  Five things I like about Kate

  1. She kept humming even after the flying-underwear incident.

  2. She taught me the sign-language alphabet she learned when she was in the play The Miracle Worker, and she uses it to send me secret messages across the classroom (like “B-O-R-I-N-G,” so I taught her “S-N-O-R-E-B-U-R-G-E-R”).

  3. Like me, she isn’t great at kickball, but she doesn’t seem to care.

  4. Also like me, she notices a lot about other people (which comes in handy when I have questions about kids at school).

  5. She asks me a lot of questions about Brooklyn—what was my school like, did I ride the subway, who were my friends there. It’s easy to talk to her.

  Three questions I asked Kate after school

  1. Why is Zach always jumping up and trying to touch the tops of door frames? (Answer: He has a younger brother who’s grown an inch taller than him in the past year. I think Zach hopes all the jumping will help him grow.)

  2. Why does Charlie wear hats all the time? (Answer: Not sure. He might be insecure about his ears.)

  3. Does Amelia not like me? (Answer: She doesn’t not like you. But she and Zora have been friends for a long time. Amelia can be possessive of her.) That one I was starting to figure out for myself, but it was good to hear it from someone else.

  Four things I imagine would count as big problems for Amelia

  1. Round-pencil shortage

  2. Late Monday night, discovering her Tuesday outfit is in the dirty laundry

  3. Stubbed toe

  4. Chipped nail polish

  Four things that are currently big problems for me

  1. Worrying that Amelia hates me

  2. Worrying that my parents will always be stressed about money

  3. Wondering why my parents lied about the reason we moved here, and feeling like I can’t trust them

  4
. Making sure I have enough friends

  Three dreams I have about Brooklyn

  1. I discover a secret panel in my old bedroom closet that opens into a big house with a backyard.

  2. I am playing wall ball in my old school playground when the wall disappears, and standing behind it are all the kids in my new class. Also, the ball turns into a gigantic pair of underwear.

  3. I am having a fight with Millie. The fight is about something stupid, like who has more freckles, and it makes me feel so frustrated that I want to scream. When I wake up, the feeling lasts even though the dream is over, and I still feel mad at Millie for about half an hour.

  Five things I miss about Millie

  1. The way she usually knew what I was thinking without me having to say it

  2. The way we passed notes to each other, on pages of a marble notebook. When one notebook was full, we would start a new one. We took turns keeping them when they were finished.

  3. Her funny made-up words, like “nao!” (instead of “no!”) or “VV?!” which meant she was surprised.

  4. She never minded that I was quiet. She said, “Quiet people are interesting.”