Army Brats
Page 14
Tom looked at Chase, really looked at him for the first time. He was still tall and strong, his face was still hard, but now Tom glimpsed something else, something in his eyes that made Tom remember that night at the Officers’ Club when he’d heard Chase’s dad putting him down. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble with your dad,” Tom said, looking squarely at Chase.
Chase’s eyes widened and then he ducked his head for a moment. Tom wondered if this might change anything, but when Chase looked at him again it was with scorn. “Whatever, Sergeant Wimpy,” Chase said. Then he turned and headed toward school, most of the boys following.
“That’s awesome that MWDs are being trained for adoption,” Avi said, coming up to Tom.
“Totally,” a boy named Erlan agreed. “I want to try to talk my folks into adopting one. Could we go over there with you sometime?”
“That would be terrific,” Tom said happily.
The bell rang, and Tom looked at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up. “It worked,” she said.
Tom had never even shown Chase the video, most of the boys still thought he was a scaredy-cat, and he was still called Sergeant Wimpy. But despite that, Tom knew that making the video had worked, in ways that were way more important than he’d realized until now. So he nodded at Charlotte.
“Roger that,” he said.
“Did you hear Hope giving all the answers in math today?” Sophia asked, as she and Mari joined Charlotte on the walk to the cafeteria for lunch. “What a teacher’s pet.”
“She’s so full of herself,” Mari agreed with a sniff, as she carefully brushed back a lock of her black hair.
They both glanced at Charlotte, waiting for her to agree. But when Charlotte thought of Hope, eagerly answering questions, excited to be getting the word problems that had confused her the week before, she couldn’t speak.
“No wonder no one likes her,” Sophia said after a slight pause.
They’d reached the buffet area where the greasy scent of overcooked fish sticks made Charlotte’s stomach curl up.
Just then, Tash walked by. “Hey, Charlotte,” she called over.
Sophia watched Tash walk over to the drink cooler, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you know her, Charlotte?” she asked softly so Tash wouldn’t hear.
“We’re neighbors,” Charlotte said, tensing up for the attack she could see was coming.
“Oh, well, you might want to stay away,” Sophia went on, “just for your own safety. I heard she has to see the school social worker at lunch because she has some kind of mental issues.”
Frustration burned in Charlotte’s chest, the way it had when Sophia and Mari said untrue things about Tom. But this time Charlotte knew she could not stay silent. This morning she had finally stood by Tom, and she could do this too—she could speak up instead of quietly going along with a lie. She could defend Tash. So Charlotte took a big breath and the words came.
“I think you got the story wrong,” she said. “Tash plays the tuba and she spends most lunch periods practicing. And she doesn’t have mental issues at all—she’s actually really nice.”
It was funny because for the past few weeks Charlotte had gotten a delicious fizzy feeling from gossiping with Sophia and Mari, but it was nothing compared to the explosion of sweet euphoria she felt now. Probably because what she was saying now was true, whereas before—well, it had been mean.
Sophia looked at Mari, her lips pressed thin, and a small wave of doubt washed over Charlotte—had she done the right thing speaking up? Yes, telling the truth felt terrific after weeks of nodding along, but Charlotte knew this meant she would no longer be welcome at the prime table by the window, not unless she did some serious backpedaling.
“You guys are not going to believe what Grace’s brother just told her!” Jen Sebastian said, rushing up to the three of them, her eyes gleaming. “Get your salads and I’ll tell you everything.”
Charlotte’s hands were trembling slightly, so she looked down at her nails. The night before she’d painted delicate little paw prints on each one, and seeing them now reminded her of the weekend, of finding Buddy, and of the Center and all the good things happening there. Things that were true, unlike the gossip she shared with Sophia and Mari. And remembering that helped her hands stop shaking because she had done the right thing speaking up. She was certain of it.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m not really in the mood for salad,” she said. “I think I’m going to get mac and cheese today.” Her mouth watered at the thought because for the first time in a long time, she had an appetite for lunch in the cafeteria.
Charlotte did not look back as she walked over to the hot lunch buffet, took a big plate of mac and cheese, then stood in line to pay.
“Hey,” Tash said, coming up behind her. “I heard a rumor that you and your brother and sister saved a bunch of dogs this weekend.”
Charlotte laughed. “That’s not exactly what happened,” she said, handing the cashier her card. “But if I can sit with you today, I’ll tell you the real story.”
“Sounds good,” Tash said. She paid for her lunch, then led the way to a table at the center of the room. It wasn’t a prime table, and no one really noticed them as they passed. But to Charlotte, who could finally be part of an honest conversation, it looked pretty good. In fact, it looked like the best table in the room.
Later that afternoon, the Bailey siblings gathered in the backyard. Tom and Charlotte sat on the wooden chairs their parents had brought home the week before, while Rosie lay on the grass with Cupcake.
“You get to play with Sunshine on Saturday,” Rosie told their dog as she scratched Cupcake’s belly. “And hopefully you’ll get to see Phantom soon. That’s Buddy’s real name.”
“So you found Buddy at the Center.”
All three Bailey siblings turned and saw Mom, who was dressed in the green uniform she wore to work. “And I hear you made quite a good impression on Mr. Skakov, soon to be Major Skakov,” she went on as she leaned against the picnic table and folded her arms across her chest.
“Um, yeah,” Charlotte said. It was impossible to tell how much Mom knew. Or if she was mad.
“It was really quite the mission to discover all of that, wasn’t it,” Mom asked in a way that made it not really a question.
“Yeah, we’re really good spies like you,” Rosie announced cheerfully as Cupcake jumped to her feet and ran after a squirrel.
“Yes, you’ve been busy the past few weeks,” Mom said. “I kept wondering when you were going to ask for my help.”
“So you knew what we were doing this whole time?” Tom asked sheepishly.
Mom laughed. “What kind of intelligence officer would I be if I didn’t know what my own children were up to?” she asked.
“But you never told us to stop,” Charlotte said, surprised but also not surprised to hear that Mom had been onto them.
“Dad and I considered it, especially when you went near a restricted area,” Mom said, raising an eyebrow in a way that suddenly had Charlotte looking very seriously at her feet as she scuffed her toe in the grass. “But we figured we needed to give you some space to make your own discoveries and to make the post your home.”
“It worked,” Rosie said. “Fort Patrick is my favorite of all the homes we’ve ever lived in.”
Charlotte glanced at Tom, who looked thoughtful but then nodded. “I like it here too,” he agreed.
“Even with Chase Hammond giving you a bit of a hard time?” Mom asked, then grinned when Tom’s mouth fell open. “We almost stepped in there too, but handling teasing is something worth learning, as long as it doesn’t get out of hand.”
Tom paused for a moment. “It didn’t,” he said. “And it won’t.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mom said. “But I hope you know—all three of you know—that if you do need help, Dad and I have your backs no matter what.”
Charlotte nodded—she did know, and she knew Rosie and Tom did too.
&
nbsp; “Anybody hungry back here?” Dad asked, coming out of the house carrying a freshly iced chocolate cake. “Because I heard we had one or two things to celebrate.”
Charlotte looked at Tom and Rosie, then at her parents. It was true, the Baileys did have a lot to celebrate. In fact, right about now, with the mystery solved, new friends, and a bunch of MWDs to play with, Charlotte thought everything was just about perfect. Sure, it probably wouldn’t stay that way for long—problems were part of life, like Dad always said. But Charlotte knew that no matter what came next, the Baileys would face it together.
And that was something to celebrate!
The grandfather I never met is buried in Arlington Cemetery. He was a second lieutenant in World War II and later died in a plane crash while serving our country as a diplomat when my father was only two. His legacy in my family was never far from my mind as I wrote this book.
I am indebted to my cousins Betsy Finley, Pat Driscoll, Christy Perry, and Laura Holt, who all shared their stories of growing up on, and in Pat’s case serving on, Navy bases. Betsy, I particularly loved your stories about the pool! Sergeant First Class DeWitt of the US Army gave me invaluable advice when I was getting started; and Debbie Reed Fischer, Air Force Brat extraordinaire, generously took the time to give the book a thorough read—I am supremely grateful for her awesome and informative notes. Rebekah Wallin and Celia Lee were essential final readers, and I am beholden to them and their military familes for fine-tuning the army-related lingo and facts. All accurate representations are thanks to their help, and any errors are entirely mine.
I am lucky enough to have the best agent in the business, Sara Crowe, representing me, and am privileged to work with rock-star editor Emily Seife, who deepens and betters every page I write. Mary Claire Cruz did an amazing job designing the book from cover to gorgeous cover. Debbi Michiko Florence, Donna Freitas, Lisa Graff, Deborah Heiligman, Bill Konigsberg, Carolyn MacCullough, Eliot Schrefer, Marie Rutkoski, Rebecca Stead, and Martin Wilson make up my team of writing and life advisors, and I would be lost without them.
Last shout-out goes to my family: Ainyr, Erlan, Greg, Sam, Nghia, Khai, Avi, Amirah, Pop, and Mom—you inspire me always.
Daphne Benedis-Grab is the author of The Angel Tree, Clementine for Christmas, and Alive and Well in Prague, New York. She has worked a variety of jobs, including building houses for Habitat for Humanity in Georgia, organizing an after-school tutoring program in San Francisco, and teaching English in China. She grew up in a small town in upstate New York and now lives in New York City with her husband, two kids, and a cat. Learn more at www.daphnebg.com.
Copyright © 2017 by Daphne Benedis-Grab
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Benedis-Grab, Daphne, author.
Title: Army brats / Daphne Benedis-Grab.
Description: First edition. | New York, NY : Scholastic Press, 2017. | Summary: When the Bailey family moves into an army base in Virginia, there are a lot of adjustments to make; twelve-year-old Tom runs afoul of the base school bully, ten-year-old Charlotte finds herself trying too hard to make friends with the “cool” girls, and six-year-old Rosie is just being difficult as usual--but they come together to investigate a mysterious building full of weird cages, and uncover Fort Patrick’s secrets.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016031951 (print) | LCCN 2016039648 (ebook) | ISBN 9780545932059 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780545932073
Subjects: LCSH: Families of military personnel—Virginia—Juvenile fiction. | Brothers and sisters—Juvenile fiction. | Middle schools—Juvenile fiction. | Military bases, American—Virginia—Juvenile fiction. | Bullying—Juvenile fiction. | Secrecy—Juvenile fiction. | Virginia—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Children of military personnel—Fiction. | Brothers and sisters—Fiction. | Middle schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction. | Military bases—Fiction. | Bullying—Fiction. | Secrets—Fiction. | Virginia—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.B43233 Ar 2017 (print) | LCC PZ7.B43233 (ebook) | DDC 813.6 [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016031951
First edition, April 2017
Cover design by Mary Claire Cruz
Cover art © 2017 by Mike Heath
e-ISBN 978-0-545-93207-3
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