Nuts About Science

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Nuts About Science Page 1

by Michelle Houts




  To Amy Phlipot and her Mr. Bones,

  for bringing science to life. —M.H.

  For Bun. —E.Z.

  Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Houts

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 Elizabeth Zechel

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews and articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the authors imaginations, and used fictitiously.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com

  Books, authors, and more at www.skyponypressblog.com

  www.michellehouts.com

  www.elizabethzechel.com

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Houts, Michelle, author. | Zechel, Elizabeth, illustrator.

  Title: Nuts about science / by Michelle Houts ; illustrated by Elizabeth Zechel.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Sky Pony Press, [2017]. | Series: Lucy’s lab ; 1 | Summary: While learning about habitats in second grade, Lucy convinces her school to plant a new tree as a home for squirrels.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017008961| ISBN 9781510710641 (hardback) | ISBN 9781510710658 (paperback) | ISBN 9781510710665 (ebook)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Habitat (Ecology)—Fiction. | Animals—Habitations—Fiction. | Trees—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Science & Technology. | JUVENILE FICTION / Readers / Chapter Books. | JUVENILE FICTION / School & Education. | JUVENILE FICTION / Girls & Women.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.H8235 Nut 2017 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017008961

  Jacket illustration by Elizabeth Zechel

  Jacket design by Sammy Yuen

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  1. No More Squirrels

  2. Room 2-C

  3. Old Habits, New Habitats

  4. Aunt Darian the Librarian

  5. The Laboratory

  6. Green Beans and Good Ideas

  7. Convincing

  8. A Fine Specimen

  9. Miss Flippo is Out of This World

  10. The Cosmic Truth

  11. Welcome to My Lab

  12. Good News, Bad News

  13. The Tree-Planting Ceremony

  14. Finishing Touches

  Chapter One

  No More Squirrels

  When I get off Bus 21 in front of Granite City Elementary School, the first thing I don’t see is the oak tree. The giant oak tree with branches that spread out like big arms ready to give the world a hug. The only tree in front of Granite City Elementary School.

  The oak tree was where the squirrels always chased each other up and down the trunk. I know, because I saw it happen every day of first grade. Because the oak tree was right outside the room that used to be my first grade classroom.

  Except, now it’s not. And no tree means no trunk for squirrels to chase each other up and down. So, the first mystery of second grade is: where did that oak tree go? I’m going to have to talk to the principal about that.

  The first thing I do see when I get off Bus 21 is not a thing. It’s a who. And that who is my best friend, Cousin Cora. She’s my cousin because her mother is Aunt Darian, and Aunt Darian is my mother’s sister.

  It’s fun having a cousin who is the same age and in the same grade. Today is our first day of second grade, and we got lucky again this year—we’re both in Room 2-C. Mom says that at school I should call “Cousin Cora” just plain “Cora,” because they might decide that cousins don’t belong in the same class. I don’t think there’s a law or anything, but maybe it’s a school rule.

  My name is Lucinda Marie Watkins, but I’m only ever called Lucy, so I guess it doesn’t matter what Cousin Cora—plain Cora—calls me.

  Plain Cora is waiting for me by the door. Except Plain Cora isn’t very plain. She’s very pink. Cora is very pink every day. Pink skirt. Pink backpack. Pink shoes. Pink hair thingy. I’m used to it.

  I’m not pink at all. My favorite color is brown, because lots of good things are brown. Like caramel and chocolate. If you think about it, brown is a pretty delicious color.

  And not only is brown delicious, it’s interesting. Like brown worms that wiggle sideways to move forward. Who else can do that? Not me. I tried.

  And mud pots are brown. We saw them at Yellowstone National Park last summer, boiling and bubbling right in the ground.

  And tree bark is brown. And it hides a zillion little crawly things.

  Except on trees that aren’t there anymore.

  “What happened to the oak tree?” I ask Cora.

  “What oak tree?”

  “The one that had the squirrels living in it last year.”

  “Oh, that one.” Cora’s shoulders go up to her ears, which makes her look like a turtle. “I don’t pay attention to trees or squirrels.”

  I bet she would if the squirrels were pink.

  Chapter Two

  Room 2-C

  The bell rings and Cora and I speed-walk to Room 2-C. Our teacher, Miss Flippo, has put our names on our desks and above the little open lockers on the wall. Cora’s desk isn’t near mine. She sits down and talks to the girls sitting around her. My desk is near the front, just where I like it. I take my seat and look at the stack of shiny new books in front me.

  “Lucy Goosey’s in Room 2-C!”

  I hear a voice behind me, but I am not going to turn around. I already know who it is. Stewart Swinefest was in my class in first grade. And now, he’s in my class again? How can I be so unlucky?

  “Lucy Goosey’s in Room 2-C!” he calls again, and all the boys around him snicker.

  Miss Flippo claps her hands once to get our attention. “Welcome, Room 2-C!”

  Then she tells us all the first-day-of-school stuff. Like that we need a bathroom pass to “use the facilities” now because we are second graders and second graders are not like first graders. Miss Flippo says our bladders are more mature.

  We go over the classroom rules. Room 2-C has a lot of rules, and none of them start with no. You have to think about them backward to figure out what you’re not supposed to do.

  “Use an appropriate voice” means “No yelling.”

  “Raise your hand when you have something to say” really means “No shouting out answers.”

  And “Always do your own work” means “No cheating.”

  I think Stewart Swinefest is going to have a hard time with this backward-rule thing.

  Next, Miss Flippo takes us on a classroom tour. Except she’s the one doing the touring.

  She walks around the room and we just turn around in our seats and follow along with our eyes. She walks to the Book Nook, the Math Corner, the Meeting Place. (It was called Circle Time in first grade. Now that we are second graders, I guess we’ll have meetings instead.)

  Then Miss Flippo walks to the back of the room. “This year,” she says, “you’ll become observers of the world around you. You will all become scientists.”

  Stewart Swinefest blurts out, �
�I don’t want to be a scientist. I’m going to drive race cars when I grow up.”

  Stewart’s already broken a classroom rule—the one about raising your hand to speak. But Miss Flippo either doesn’t notice or she’s giving Stewart a free pass this time.

  “Ah,” says Miss Flippo. “There is a great deal of science in racing. You’ll love learning about engines and motion.”

  Stewart frowns. I can’t tell if he doesn’t believe Miss Flippo or if he just doesn’t like to be wrong.

  Miss Flippo stands in front of a black table with four stools and a sink with a curvy faucet.

  “This is our Science Lab,” she says.

  Whoa! There was no Science Lab in first grade! I sit up taller to see better.

  “When you come to the Science Lab, you need a lab coat …” She points to four white lab coats hanging on the wall. “And, although you won’t actually be using any chemicals until you’re older”—I hear Stewart Swinefest say, “Aw, why not?” but Miss Flippo just keeps right on talking—“you must wear protective eyewear if you’re using anything that could get into your eyes.”

  She points to four pairs of plastic goggles sitting on a shelf by the table.

  “Always follow directions carefully. A Science Lab can be very exciting, but sometimes it can also be dangerous.”

  Everyone in Room 2-C goes Oooh! at the same time.

  “And, this …” says Miss Flippo as she lifts a big black cover off of something large in the corner, “… is Mr. Bones.” A tall skeleton stands in the Science Lab. His bones and his skull are bright white.

  Room 2-C goes wild.

  “That’s creepy!” shouts Stewart.

  I don’t think Mr. Bones is creepy at all. I think he’s pretty cool.

  Miss Flippo claps her hands to get us to settle down. Except we don’t. So she reaches down and picks up Mr. Bones’s two white, boney hands and claps them together.

  Now Room 2-C is really out of control.

  I think I’m going to like second grade.

  Chapter Three

  Old Habits, New Habitats

  At lunch, Cora and I sit with some new friends from Room 2-C.

  Georgia’s from Alabama. She just moved to Granite City, and she says all of her long “i” sounds like the short “o” sound, so when she says “I like to ride my bike,” my ears hear “Ah lock to rod my bock.” I think I lock Georgia from Alabama.

  Then there’s Carl. He was at Granite City Elementary last year, but not in my first grade class. At lunch, he talks a lot about bugs: beetles, moths, spiders and, his favorite, millipedes. Georgia says, “Ew,” but I don’t think bugs are gross at all. Once, I watched a millipede scurry across the basement floor. It could run really fast. I bet I could, too, if I had that many legs to run on.

  Bridget and Ajay were in my first grade class, so they are old friends.

  All anyone can talk about at lunch is Miss Flippo and Mr. Bones and how cool Room 2-C is. Well, that and millipedes.

  After lunch is recess, and right after recess we have math, then art, and then we go back to Room 2-C. The first day of second grade is almost over.

  “Before you go,” says Miss Flippo. “I’d like to explain our first group project.”

  Miss Flippo tells us that we’ll be learning about habitats. “Habitats are homes for living things. Habitats are where living things can find the right kind of food and shelter that they need to live. So, as humans, what do we need to live?”

  “Pizza!” says Manuel. “I can’t live without pizza!”

  Everyone giggles. Miss Flippo agrees that pizza is one of her favorite foods, too.

  “Some people eat bugs,” Carl chimes in.

  “Gross!” says Logan.

  This makes me wonder which bugs can be eaten and how they actually taste. I bet they’re pretty crunchy.

  “What about shelter?” Miss Flippo asks.

  Natalie raises her hand. “I live in an apartment.”

  Ajay’s house is on the edge of town, and Bridget tells us she lives in a trailer.

  “Think about turtles,” says Miss Flippo. “They carry their shelter on their backs.”

  Then she tells us that we’ll be learning about several kinds of habitats: woodland, arctic, rainforest, desert, and ocean.

  “Tomorrow,” she says, “I’ll split you into groups, and you’ll begin to research a habitat.”

  Cora and I look right at each other. I see her cross her fingers for luck. I hope we’re in the same group, too.

  “After several days of research,” Miss Flippo continues, “you will begin to construct model habitats right here in the classroom.”

  I’m not sure what a model habitat looks like, but it sounds like a lot of fun. I hope I get the desert. It’s the only one on the list that’s mostly brown.

  “Oh!” Miss Flippo jumps from her stool, remembering something on her desk. “You have homework tonight!”

  Room 2-C echoes with the groaning sound of twenty second graders. Well, maybe nineteen. I usually don’t mind having homework.

  “I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me,” Miss Flippo says as she passes out a worksheet with the words “ALL-ABOUT-ME” across the top. We’re supposed to put our names on the trunk. Each branch asks a different question that we have to answer. This should be easy.

  “Please complete your tree tonight and be ready to share tomorrow morning,” Miss Flippo announces, just as the bell rings.

  As I’m putting the ALL-ABOUT-ME Tree in my backpack, I remember I have some unfinished tree business of my own!

  Just like always, our principal, Mrs. James, is stationed at the door when all the kids come running out of Granite City Elementary School. She yells, “Use your walking feet!” just like always.

  It looks like Stewart Swinefest isn’t the only one who doesn’t know that means “No running!”

  I have to pass Mrs. James on my way to Bus 21. Perfect!

  I march right up to her.

  “Welcome back to Granite City Elementary, Lucy!” Mrs. James says. She has a big smile on her face and is wearing really big glasses.

  “Thank you, Mrs. James. Where’s the tree?”

  Mrs. James looks all around. “What tree?” she asks.

  “The big tree. The one that used to be over there.” I point at the first grade wing.

  “Oh, that tree.” Mrs. James’s big smile fades away. “Oak wilt.”

  “Oak what?”

  Bus 21 honks.

  “Your bus is holding up the line, Lucy.”

  “But …”

  HONK!

  I run for the bus.

  “Oak what?” I call again over my left shoulder.

  “Oak wilt!” Mrs. James shouts. “Look it up!”

  Chapter Four

  Aunt Darian the Librarian

  When the bus drops me off at home, Dad is mowing the front yard. He stops the mower and I tell him that the squirrels have no place to run now that I’m in second grade and the bones of a tall dead guy are in my classroom and can I please go to Cora’s?

  He wrinkles up his face like he can’t understand me, and then he tells me yes, but be back for supper at 5:30.

  So, I take my bike to Cousin Cora’s. Cora lives three blocks away, but we never get to ride the same school bus. I ride the country bus because I live on the edge of town, right next to the park. She rides the town bus.

  There are three places in Granite City I’m allowed to go without my parents: the park, Cora’s, and the library. The park, because it’s pretty much in my backyard. Cora’s, because it’s only three blocks and I don’t have to cross a road to get there. And the library, because Cora’s mom is Aunt Darian the librarian. And because it’s right behind Cora’s house.

  When I get there, Cora has changed from her pink school outfit into another pink outfit. If I were taking off pink, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t put on more pink.

  “What do you want to do?” she asks.

  “Go to the l
ibrary.”

  “Me, too! I want the new Cindy Sparkles book!”

  Ick. I don’t like Cindy Sparkles. She’s pink and purple and very, very fluffy.

  “Walk or bike?” I ask.

  “Walk. The chain came off my bike last night.”

  “Bummer. I can probably fix it,” I say, but Cora’s already skipping down the sidewalk, so I hurry to catch up.

  “Do you ever wonder what would happen if you woke up one morning and Granite City was gone and you were in a magical kingdom and you lived in a palace instead of a house and you rode a unicorn instead of a bike?” Cora asks, twirling in circles.

  “I don’t think so.” It’s true. I don’t think I’ve ever, not even once, thought about what would happen if I woke up one morning, and Granite City was gone, and I was in a magical kingdom, and lived in a palace instead of a house, and rode a unicorn instead of my bike.

  “What would happen?” I ask.

  Cora stops twirling. “Well, I don’t know.”

  I guess she has never really thought about it either.

  “Well,” I say, “you would probably have a palace maid to make your bed for you. And you might have a palace cook to make breakfast.”

  “Oh! Yes!” Cora’s spinning again. “And you would have a thousand pink dresses, and a hundred diamond tiaras, and a purple rhinestone saddle for your unicorn …”

  “… and it would be hard to decide where to park your unicorn at school because you probably can’t just tie him to the bicycle rack,” I finish for her.

  I’m trying to play along, even though I can think of several other problems with Cora’s fantasy world. Luckily, we make it to the library doors before I have to tell her that palaces are usually cold (all that stone) and dark (only candlelight, you know).

  “At last!” cries Cora. “We’ve arrived at the Royal Library!”

  As Cora and I walk inside, I tell her what Mrs. James said about the big missing oak tree.

  “It wilted.”

  “What’s that mean?” Cora asks.

 

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