Me and Miranda Mullaly

by Jake Gerhardt

  She smiles and her smile gets me. It makes my skin tingle, and my stomach feels weird, sort of the way it feels when I’m in trouble, but not bad, just different. And I feel really strong, really invincible, like there’s nothing I can’t do.

  So I forget all about dumb Duke and sitting and talking with him. I practically knock people over to get to Erica Dickerson.

  “I’m surprised you found the place,” Erica says, just like she always says things to me. It’s sort of that “you’re a dope, Sam Dolan” way she has of talking to me. But for some reason I love it. I love hearing her voice.

  I try to say something, anything, to keep her standing there in front of me. But my mind is a blank. I can’t think of anything.

  “You were very average on stage tonight,” Erica says.

  Even though I know this is an insult I smile. And I still can’t think of anything good to say.

  “You want me to get you a soda?” I try.

  She holds up her hand, and in it is a cup and the cup is filled with soda. I don’t want her to leave but my mind is still totally blank. And then, finally, I think of something.

  “You were really great tonight.”

  “Thanks,” she says.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” I say.

  “Is this all you got, Dolan?”

  “No, no,” I say. “Um, you know, I’m going to miss practicing—”

  “Rehearsing,” she corrects me.

  “That’s right, rehearsing. I’m going to miss rehearsing and all that stuff. It was really fun.”

  And, boy, do I really mean it. I can’t explain how I feel. It’s so great standing next to her and talking to her, even if she’s only making fun of me and I’m saying stupid things. But at the same time I feel sad, I really do, because the show is over and as it turns out, I liked working with Erica Dickerson.

  “Yeah, it was fun, wasn’t it,” she agrees.

  “Erica Dickerson, it was really fun.”

  “We could have one last dance,” she suggests. “Or do you think that might be a bad decision that would end up in your book?”

  And I am not kidding you when I tell you I took Erica Dickerson in my arms and we danced the tango from “Hernando’s Hideaway.” I have so much fun I don’t ever want to stop. Even when the thumbtack in my pocket gets stuck into my leg and I can feel the blood dripping into my sock, I keep right on going.

  And if that’s serendipity, Mr. Minkin, then that’s my new favorite word.

  Duke Samagura

  21 March 2016

  English 8A

  Mr. Minkin

  Writing Prompt: The dictionary defines serendipity as “the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.” Write about a serendipitous event in your life. How has the fortunate accident or discovery affected you in a positive way? Explain in detail.

  Sir:

  It took quite some time, Mr. Minkin, but you’ve finally come up with a writing prompt worth responding to. I guess even you and broken clocks work once in a while.

  Everything worked out just as I had planned after the show. Sam Dolan was one of the last cast members to arrive at my house. I met him at the door, introduced him to Neal and Cassandra, and then personally led him to the rec room where everyone was devouring hot Cheetos, potato chips, and sodas. As Sam descended the stairs there was a round of applause, but we were all in high spirits and full of good cheer, so the applause for Sam did not, surprisingly, give me the urge to push him down the steps.

  I brought Sam over to where Neal and Cassandra had set up a loop of digital pictures running on the television. I have to admit after years of bad parenting, they stopped at nothing to make the cast party a success. I pulled out my special chair for Sam to sit on, which I had hidden behind the bar. Just in case, I put a sign that said “Broken” on it so no one would accidentally take it out and ruin my plan.

  This chair was special because I had taken out the integral screws that are needed to hold a person. As soon as Sam sat on it, he would crash to the floor.

  “Geez, that’s pretty cool,” Sam said when he saw the loop. Being an idiot, he was instantly mesmerized by the pictures and, of course, being a solipsistic jerk, he couldn’t wait for his image to appear.

  “There’s a great picture of you coming up,” I said, pulling up the chair. “Here, take a seat.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said, still watching the screen.

  And then, inexplicably, it happened. Sharon Dolan appeared and kept Sam from sitting on the chair and making a fool of himself. And she kept me from getting back at Sam Dolan for the thumbtack and stealing my thunder in the show and foiling the toilet paper plot and ruining the student council. In short, Sharon kept me from getting back at Sam for being the bane of my existence.

  I turned to Sharon. I couldn’t believe what she had done.

  “How did you know about the chair?” I asked, thoroughly appalled.

  Sharon pursed her lips in a real cute way, and said, “Unlike most, I see, and I observe.”

  I was thunderstruck. She was quoting Sherlock Holmes, who, if you’ve never heard of him, is the most famous detective in the world. I had no idea there was another soul in Penn Valley Middle School so well-read.

  I gazed into her eyes. I noticed for the first time that they were blue. Her eyes were kind. And, most importantly, those eyes were interested in me, I’m sure.

  I’m certain I’ve never felt this way before.

  How could she be so sophisticated? So talented? So concerned for her fellow human beings? And so beautiful? How could she be all these things and still be related to Sam Dolan, the troglodyte?

  “What’s the matter?” Sharon asked.

  Her voice wakened me from my reverie. I imagined myself in a field of blue flowers, under a grand, shadowy tree with Sharon in my arms.

  “I, uh, ah, nothing.”

  “You looked like you were in a catatonic state,” Sharon said, sipping her soda.

  Catatonic? Again, I asked myself how this lovely flower could be sprung from the same gene pool that produced Sam Dolan.

  “There you go again,” Sharon said.

  “Please forgive me,” I said.

  I looked down at the floor for a second, for I didn’t want to creep Sharon out by staring continuously into her ocean-colored eyes.

  “Might I interest you in a slice of pizza?”

  “Sure,” Sharon said, smiling at me as I led her away from the stupid chair and from my childhood.

  Miranda Mullaly

  March 21, 2016

  English 8A

  Mr. Minkin

  Writing Prompt: The dictionary defines serendipity as “the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.” Write about a serendipitous event in your life. How has the fortunate accident or discovery affected you in a positive way? Explain in detail.

  I think it was dumb luck, or should I say good luck, that Chollie Muller was my science partner for lab work and the Brazilian tapir research report.

  And it was just, I’m sure, simply good luck that Chollie was in the musical and danced, or rather marched, “Steam Heat” with me.

  And I suppose that I was really just lucky that Chollie Muller was outside gazing at the stars.

  Looking back on it, it’s odd I was even outside as the cast party was just beginning. But Erica was dancing with Sam Dolan, doing one last tango now that the play was over. And Sharon Dolan, who I wanted to congratulate on a great performance, was talking so closely to Duke Samagura, I thought they were kissing. And I suddenly felt very, very alone.

  I doubt anyone noticed when I left and stepped out into the backyard. And there was Chollie Muller looking up at the stars. Something drew me to Chollie and I walked across the yard and stood next to him. />
  “There sure are a lot of stars out tonight,” Chollie said.

  I nodded.

  We were silent for a moment, which was nice. Other boys, especially Tom Nelson, would’ve started talking about the stars like they really knew about them. Or would ask a stupid question like whether or not there was life out there. But Chollie just said, “There sure are a lot of stars out tonight.” It was the perfect thing to say.

  I looked up at Chollie and then back up at the stars.

  “What do you see up there?” I asked him.

  “I see stars and the moon,” Chollie answered.

  I have to smile to myself because this answer is so like Chollie. He’s always so honest.

  “What do the stars and moon make you think of?” I asked.

  Again, I looked up at him. For the first time, I really noticed him. And I thought about what it would be like if he put his arm around me.

  Finally Chollie looked down from the stars. He looked right into my eyes.

  “It’s the funniest thing, but it reminds me of a book my mom used to read to me when I was a kid. It’s called Goodnight Moon.”

  “That’s beautiful, Charlie.”

  He didn’t say anything. But I certainly wanted to hear more.

  “It’s cold tonight,” I said, pretending to shiver.

  “You were really terrific tonight, Miranda,” he said.

  “Thank you, Charlie. And you weren’t so bad yourself.”

  From inside the house we could hear music playing faintly. It was “Once a Year Day” from the show.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked.

  I nodded. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to dance with Charlie Muller.

  He took me in his arms and led me as if he’d always meant to.

  Charlie Muller

  March 21, 2016 (Finally got the year right!)

  English 8A

  Mr. Minkin

  Writing Prompt: The dictionary defines serendipity as “the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.” Write about a serendipitous event in your life. How has the fortunate accident or discovery affected you in a positive way? Explain in detail.

  Dear Mr. Minkin,

  Serendipity is a really nice word, Mr. Minkin. Thank you for teaching it to me.

  So serendipity, you say, is like an accident, something good or unexpected happening. But I guess all accidents are unexpected. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be accidents.

  I don’t know if this is serendipity or not. You can be the judge.

  I decide to go to Duke’s cast party, and I’m surprised he’s even invited me since I only had six words to say.

  As I’m walking to the party, it suddenly hits me that I’m kind of sad the show is over. It’s been fun even with all the trouble I had remembering my line and the dance steps and being nervous and all that.

  And I’m still sort of sad because Billy has moved out. Mom said he needed a “little nudge” to get out of the house and both Billy and I know Mom is right. I still hated to see him go, though. It was fun having Billy around, at least in the beginning when he was awake more often.

  When I get to the party I suddenly have this urge to punch Duke and Sam in the nose. Not because of Miranda Mullaly, but because they’re all having a good time watching the video and fooling around with some chair. And it’s a weird feeling because it’s not really like me to feel this way, wanting to punch guys in the nose. I’m really confused.

  Since I don’t want to punch anyone’s lights out, and because I kind of feel like crying, I go through the kitchen and out to the backyard. It’s a really pleasant night, and even though it’s cold, I’m all warm inside. And there are a lot of stars in the sky. Lots and lots of stars. And something about the stars and the moon catches my attention but I really don’t know why, if you know what I mean. It’s just sort of pretty and quiet and I feel better about being alone.

  And then suddenly I notice Miranda Mullaly standing next to me. But for the first time I’m not nervous. I don’t know why, but being under those stars makes me think. It makes me think that the world’s a really big place and time is kind of going by and we’re spinning around the sun and turning and spinning and the stars are so far away we can’t ever get to them. And then for some reason I start thinking about this book my mom used to read to me called Goodnight Moon and I sort of miss those days. And that makes me think about how the moon’s gravity causes the tides of the oceans to rise and fall. I don’t know why this stuff pops into my head, but it does, and even though Miranda’s standing next to me I keep looking at the stars and not at her.

  Finally I say, “There sure are a lot of stars,” because I have to say something.

  I don’t remember what Miranda says next but I can hear her breathing next to me.

  She asks me more about the stars, and I tell her how the stars make me think of the book Goodnight Moon. Saying this makes me feel a little dumb because Miranda reads thick books and Goodnight Moon is just a little kid’s book.

  But Miranda is so great she doesn’t even care.

  And she doesn’t laugh at me.

  And then, suddenly, I just say what I feel.

  “You know, Miranda, I really liked working with you on the science project and in the lab and I really liked dancing with you even though they made me march.”

  For a second I want to look up at the stars again because I feel like a fool. But then Miranda smiles at me. She’s got a good smile and her eyes are bright and suddenly the stars don’t mean that much because I can look into Miranda’s eyes. And I don’t feel like punching anyone in the nose. And I don’t feel like crying. I just feel really, really good inside.

  It’s kind of quiet and the only sound is music from the show coming from the basement. Then it is all really simple.

  “Would you like to dance, Miranda?”

  Believe it or not, she says yes and I dance with Miranda Mullaly! Right there under the stars. And the craziest thing is that for the first time the dance steps come easy.

  So I don’t know if this is serendipity but it seems like it to me. And I sure can’t wait for serendipity to strike again.

  Acknowledgments

  Special heartfelt thanks to my mother, Nancy Gerhardt, for her unwavering support and faith. And to my sisters, Donna, Maureen, Sharon, and Kristie, and my brother, Timmy. And to my in-laws William Mills Todd III and Eva Andenaes Todd. I am so fortunate to call all of you my family.

  I’m indebted to everyone at Viking Children’s Books. Special thanks to publisher Ken Wright for the green light, Tricia Callahan at copyediting for the indispensible calendar, and Jim Hoover for a great jacket design that captures the spirit of the book. And a huge thanks to editor Joanna Cardenas for bringing her energy and excitement to this book. Her belief in this book and her editorial expertise has made all the difference in the world.

  Thanks to Dan Lazar, agent extraordinaire, who knew exactly how to get this book into the right hands, and everyone at Writers House, especially Victoria Doherty Munro.

  Gratitude to the world’s greatest manager, Aleen Keshishian, who made this happen, and to everyone at Brillstein Entertainment, especially Alex Gumbert.

  Special thanks to Lulu Troyer for reading an early draft and giving it her considerable stamp of approval. And to Kit Troyer for pointing out the direction I was writing. And Jesse and Boomer!

  Thanks to the UCLA Writers’ Program, especially Laurel van der Linde, Mary Lynne, Shelia, Glen, and Margaret, and everyone for helping to move this book along with invaluable feedback on late Wednesday nights.

  Thanks to everyone at the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) for creating a network of inspiration and support for writers throughout the world.

  Thanks to Pat Walsh, Tom Nelson, and Jay Sefton for friendship and encouragement.
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  Special thanks to my wife, Karen, and our daughters, Frida and Ada. You make my dreams come true every day.

  1. This is how the poet William Butler Yeats described first seeing Maud Gonne, to whom he would propose marriage four times.

  2. Of Greek origin—a member of a prehistoric race of people that lived in caves, dens, or holes.

  3. The great early twentieth-century writer whose stories were the basis of the Broadway musical Guys and Dolls.

  4. The third book in their senseless series on the Voiceless in America.

  5. Of Latin origin—to a disgusting or ridiculous degree; to the point of nausea.

  6. Bullies who think humor is stuffing a younger, more intelligent student into a locker and tossing his briefcase in the trash can.

  7. After Neanderthal, a valley in Germany west of Düsseldorf, an extinct species or race of human beings. In Penn Valley a boorish, crude person; or just about half the male population.

  8. You don’t want to know about James Devine. Trust me.

  9. Of Latin origin—of, in, or by itself or oneself; intrinsically.

  10. A rowdy, boisterous person; ruffian.

  11. Perhaps the world’s greatest museum, located in Paris, France. Mr. O’Reiley’s unflinchingly positive feedback is a perfect example of the disaster “self-esteem” has wrought on American education.

  12. Their third book, Christ, the King of Rap, was about the Christian roots of hip-hop. Not their best effort.

  13. Paraphrasing Winston Churchill. The full quote is: “We have not journeyed across the centuries, across the oceans, across the mountains, across the prairies, because we are made of sugar candy.”