The girls had a good laugh over that one.
Mr. Ryan dedicated an entire section of the science fair to “The Volcano.” Megan joked that it should have been called “A Salute to Papier-Mâché.” The exhibitions ran the gamut of fake volcanoes—from chemical reactions with baking soda to basic physics involving a simple crank and puffed rice. Every five minutes a fake explosion drew a small round of applause.
“Let’s head over to my exhibit,” said Cindy. Cindy’s experiment with Tony Rosenblum, “The Absorption Rate of Diapers,” had been a surprise hit with the judges. “Mostly because of all the useful information,” according to Cindy. It was marked with a yellow ribbon like all the other honorable-mention exhibits and situated in a center aisle that Mr. Ryan liked to call “Almost Won Boulevard.”
The science fair was pretty terrific, but after a while the event became a little overwhelming. “You get lost in the questions,” said Alexis.
“I know,” said Megan. “Like, ‘How Do Detergents Affect Brine Shrimp?’ and ‘Can Goldfish Learn?’ ”
The girls took a breather just across from an exhibit called “The Life Cycle of the Cockroach.”
“Can you imagine?” asked Cindy, scrunching her face and shielding her eyes from the display.
“Ick. I could never,” said Megan.
Cindy shifted toward Megan and Alexis. “So where are you guys?” she asked. “Where’s your exhibit? What’d you win?”
Megan and Alexis exchanged a glance. They had compiled their results and put together a poster-board display with the words “Hamsters Prefer Purple” stenciled across the top.
“We didn’t win a prize,” Alexis admitted with a shrug.
“We’re on ‘Weird Science Lane,’ ” said Megan, pointing to the sign a few aisles down. “Only it’s not ‘Weird Science.’ It’s ‘Different Science’!”
“Check it out,” said Alexis, nudging Cindy. “We’re right between ‘Can Carnations Change Color?’ and ‘How High Can a Dog Count?’ ”
“Oh, no!” cried Cindy, trying to hide her giggles.
“Ah, well,” Megan said, “we had fun with Zippity and our hamster maze. Let’s go hang out by our exhibit so we can answer people’s questions.”
• • •
“There you guys are,” said Matt. He was showing passersby how to run Zippity through the hamster maze and answering questions from fifth-grade boys who were certain the maze was rigged. The boys were complaining, “No hamster likes purple that much.”
“This one does,” Matt responded.
Right on cue, Zippity ran nimbly through the maze and curled up in a ball once he reached the purple room.
“It’s rigged!” the fifth-grade boys protested.
“Move along,” said Matt, who was babysitting Zippity from behind the card table.
“We’re moving,” said the boys, not looking for trouble at the science fair.
“Congratulations on making the baseball team, Matt,” said Cindy.
“Oh, you made the team?” said Alexis. “Congratulations!”
“Megan told me all about it!” bragged Cindy.
“Our first practice game is next weekend if you want to come,” said Matt.
“We’ll be there!” all three girls chimed in unison.
“Oh, great,” Matt muttered. “My own personal cheerleaders.”
The girls laughed and launched into an improvised cheer, chanting “Go, Matt!” over and over until it was really obnoxious.
Matt blushed slightly—and Megan beamed with pride.
• • •
Mr. Ryan approached the podium; his hair was frizzed out and he was wearing a comically thick pair of Coke-bottle glasses. He was also wearing a white laboratory coat and a pair of green rubber gloves. He tapped the microphone to make sure it was on and twisted the gooseneck so that the mike reached his mouth.
A shrill screech from the PA system got everyone’s attention focused on the gymnasium stage. Most of the kids were holding their hands over their ears and begging for relief.
Jann was positioned at one side of the stage, next to the American flag, where she was ready to translate Mr. Ryan’s remarks into sign language.
“My fellow scientists,” Mr. Ryan said into the microphone. “As you know, we gave out the big prizes this morning. The blue ribbons, the red, the green, and the yellow. How about another round of applause for the big winners?”
Mr. Ryan stepped away from the podium and clapped his rubber gloves together like a seal. The students in the gymnasium whistled and cheered. Jann waved her hands overhead to indicate the sound of applause.
Mr. Ryan returned to the microphone. “We also awarded the special Grand Prize to Jonathan Gaines and Karen Stetson for their exhibit, ‘Which Spiders Eat Other Spiders?’ We are pleased to announce that this project will represent our school in the county science fair competition.”
There was another mild smattering of applause. Megan made a face as though she were gagging on a spider.
At that moment Alexis spotted her mother and Justin heading down the adjoining aisle, where all the interactive exhibits were located. Interactive displays were big crowd favorites—like “Fingerprints: Only You Are You” and “Bubbles: Films and Surface Tension.” Another popular exhibit was “Popcorn Popping Rates” but mostly because of the free samples. Justin barreled down the aisle, as usual. Alexis cringed in anticipation of all the toppled card tables he would leave in his wake.
“Hey, Mom,” she called out. Mrs. Powell caught sight of Alexis and signaled that she would circle around and head in their direction.
“Mom’s here with Justin,” Alexis said to Megan, pointing at the next aisle.
“Oh, boy!” said Megan. In the days since they had successfully run the hamster maze, Megan had been over to Alexis’s house twice. She’d taught Justin to say “more” in sign language—he would clench his hands into loose fists and then tap-tap-tap his fingertips together—and now it was Justin’s favorite new word of the two words he knew. No matter what the subject, Justin wanted “more.” More kick-ball, more milk, more hotdog, and—his favorite use of the word—more hugs.
“Justin!” cried Megan as the boy charged down their aisle with Alexis’s mom. Megan squatted low so she could catch Justin in a hug. When he landed in her arms with a plunk, Alexis reached down to gently tousle his hair.
“Cindy hasn’t met Justin yet,” said Megan.
“No, but I’ve heard a lot about him,” said Cindy.
“Cindy, this is Justin,” said Alexis, gesturing toward her little brother. “Justin, this is Cindy. And this is my mom, Mrs. Powell.”
“Hello, Mrs. Powell.”
“Nice to meet you, Cindy,” said Alexis’s mom.
Justin tugged away from Megan’s arms to beat his hands against the edge of the card table that contained their hamster maze. Their poster-board display wobbled perilously back and forth.
“No, Justin, no!” cried Alexis.
“It’s okay,” said Megan. “He’s trying to tell us something.”
Justin was tapping his fingertips together and brushing his nose.
“He’s saying ‘more hamster’!” said Alexis.
“Justin put two words together!” said Megan.
“ ‘More hamster’!” the girls cried. Mrs. Powell scooped Justin up from the ground as the girls applauded and cheered.
“Shhhhhh!” said Cindy. “Mr. Ryan is trying to present the awards!”
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” Megan asked Matt. “I don’t want them to miss this part!”
“They’re getting fingerprinted,” said Matt, jerking his thumb toward the interactive aisle. “So shhhhhhh!” He pressed a finger to his lips.
Megan hushed down and turned to face the stage.
“In addition to the big winners,” Mr. Ryan was saying in a terribly serious voice, “we also select winning exhibits in the categories of silliest and goofiest, and we present the Deep Space Award for the most ‘way-out
’ project of all.” The kids issued a roar of appreciation for their favorite part of the event.
“This year the Silliest Award goes to Mickey Birnbaum and Alicia Wollerton for ‘MUD: Many Uses of Dirt.’ ” A polite round of applause greeted Mickey and Alicia as they bounded for the stage to accept their award.
“The Goofiest Award,” Mr. Ryan continued, “goes to TJ and Davis Ryan for ‘Where Wombats Come From.’ ” A cheer went up among the sixth graders as TJ and Davis raced for the stage and their ribbon. They bowed and blew kisses at the crowd.
“And last but not least, the Deep Space Award for the most ‘out there’ project in the science fair . . . ,” Mr. Ryan began. He paused slightly to build suspense, and then he continued, “. . . goes to Yolanda Vera and Martha Matthews for ‘Invertebrates on Parade’!”
Mr. Ryan couldn’t have known that he was presenting the Deep Space Award to the two kids at Wilmot Elementary who everybody suspected came from another galaxy. Martha and Yolanda were the kind of friends who stuck together like glue, spoke a secret language, and laughed at little jokes nobody else could understand. Name-calling wasn’t allowed at Wilmot Elementary, but more than one kid had eyed the two girls, nudged a friend, and pointed up, as if at a distant planet.
Even so, Martha and Yolanda had produced the surprise hit of the science fair. They’d constructed detailed clay replicas of invertebrates and suspended them from wires that jiggled while the girls played marching music on kazoos. It really was “Invertebrates on Parade,” and the entire school was apparently thrilled that the girls were getting the recognition they deserved. Martha and Yolanda headed toward the stage, side by side as usual, to a healthy roar of applause.
“But wait!” Mr. Ryan announced from the podium as the girls headed away from the stage after receiving their award. “That’s not all!” The microphone squawked with the sound of feedback—so loud and shrill that even Megan reacted. She tugged on her hearing aid and made a sour face. She turned her attention to Jann to find out what Mr. Ryan was talking about.
“This year,” Mr. Ryan continued, “I have a special award for one very special exhibit that managed to break through the difficult and often perilous barriers of scientific collaboration.” He held up a rather ornate purple ribbon, festooned with a variety of absurd purple gemstones.
Megan and Alexis turned toward each other in disbelief. Their jaws fell slack and their eyes opened wide.
“My fellow scientists and their parents,” Mr. Ryan continued, “I’d like to present the first annual purple ribbon to Megan Merrill and Alexis Powell for their fourth-grade contribution to the science fair, ‘Hamsters Prefer Purple’!”
Megan and Alexis grabbed each other and jumped up and down. Justin jumped up and down as well, even though he didn’t understand the happy news.
“Hurry, hurry,” said Cindy, tugging on their sweatshirts. “Go get it, girls!”
Megan and Alexis ran for the stage.
13
Positively Purple
“HURRY UP, DADDY,” SAID MEGAN. she was expecting a house full of party guests in less than an hour—and her dad was still screwing in lightbulbs on the front porch. Megan wanted everything stowed away for the party; she didn’t want her dad straddling a ladder on the front porch.
“Just finished,” said Megan’s dad, giving the last lightbulb a twist. He looked down at Megan and said, “Hit the switch.”
Megan had scheduled the party so that it began at that purple hour, at about dusk. When she did a test-run on the switch, the front of the house glowed with purple lightbulbs, just like the sky. “Excellent,” said Megan. “Even the outside is positively purple.”
• • •
Matt was in the front hall finishing the last bundle of purple balloons. The archways were decorated in swags of purple crepe-paper streamers. Megan had spruced up the banisters with purple plumes.
“Enough purple,” said Matt—between puffs as he inflated what seemed like the bazillionth purple balloon.
“Never enough,” said Megan.
“If I blow up one more balloon,” said Matt, tying a knot on the last balloon, “I’m going to be purple myself.”
Megan laughed.
“I’m serious,” said Matt. “This is the last one. I have to get dressed in my uniform and get over to Coach Blazer’s house. We’re supposed to take the team picture before it gets too dark.”
“You’re going to miss my party!” Megan protested. “You’re going to miss my birthday cake and my birthday candles!”
“Megan, you’re throwing a slumber party,” said Matt. “It’s going to last all night long. I’ll be back right after the photo, so don’t worry. I won’t miss the cake!”
“Promise,” said Megan.
“Promise,” said Matt.
“You better,” Megan warned. “Where’s Mom?”
“Making the cake in the kitchen,” said Matt.
Megan ran through the den—pausing to arrange the four bottles of purple glitter fingernail polish that were on the table for the special purple manicures the girls would be giving one another later—and into the kitchen to find her mom.
• • •
It was Lainee’s idea to make a yellow cake with purple frosting. “If the batter were purple,” she said, “it might look too dark. Even darker than chocolate. But if we balance the purple frosting with yellow cake, people will be able to see the purple and appreciate the difference.”
“Good idea, Mom,” said Megan. “But I want purple frosting.”
“And you’re having purple frosting,” said Lainee. “But I’m doing the lettering in yellow so that it stands out.”
“But purple candles,” said Megan.
“Don’t worry. Purple candles,” said her mom. She dropped a big glob of purple frosting on the cake and began smoothing the edges with a spatula.
“I want it perfect, Mom,” said Megan. “Even if Dad says that perfect isn’t a problem in the Merrill family.” She was pouring the grape juice and the ginger ale into a punch bowl for the special purple punch.
“When did your father say that?”
“When I was upset with Alexis,” said Megan. “Dad said she was probably trying extra hard to be perfect because Justin was maybe not one-hundred-percent perfect. So I asked him if we do that. And he said we don’t have any problem not being perfect.”
Lainee paused in her cake decoration and held the spatula aloft. “I think what your father was trying to say,” she explained, “is that nobody’s perfect. We all have our strengths and we all have our limitations.”
Megan went to the freezer and pulled out a bunch of ice-cold grapes. She dropped them in the punch bowl as well. “What’s a limitation?” she asked.
“Like a weakness,” Lainee continued. “We have to learn to accept our strengths and our weaknesses—because both of them make us who we are.”
“Okay, I get it,” said Megan. “Nobody’s perfect.” She pushed the punch bowl to the middle of the counter so it wouldn’t get knocked onto the floor, and she wiped her hands clean on a kitchen towel.
“Yes. For example,” her mother continued, “I’ve been asking you to get that bag of purple feathers out of the dining room for two weeks—”
“Nobody’s perfect, Mom!” said Megan.
“Do it,” said Lainee.
“I’ll do it,” said Megan, “if you don’t mess up the cake.”
Lainee snuck a lick of purple frosting off the end of the spatula and smiled. “I will if you will,” she said.
“Deal,” said Megan.
Before she left the kitchen, Megan dropped in front of the computer and switched on the Internet connection.
“What are you hopping on the Internet for?” asked her mother.
“I promised Lizzie that I would video instant message her so she could come to my party even though she lives an hour away,” said Megan.
“Megan, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” her mom asked, exasperated.
“Mom, she wants to meet my friends!” argued Megan.
Lainee held up her hands in defeat. “It’s your party,” she said.
With that matter settled, Megan ran into the dining room. She grabbed the bag of purple feathers off the sideboard and looked for a quick place to stash it before the party. Unfortunately, the drawers of the sideboard were full and the cupboards underneath were packed with platters and dishes.
I don’t have time for this, thought Megan.
She darted into the front hall and opened the closet door. It was crammed with overcoats, raincoats, galoshes, and umbrellas.
Megan spotted a tote bag on the floor packed with Matt’s baseball equipment. Perfect, thought Megan. She stashed the bag of purple feathers in the palm of Matt’s baseball glove for safekeeping and tucked the glove back into the tote bag. Then she pushed the closet door shut, grabbed on to the banister, and flung herself upstairs to change for the party.
• • •
Since it was a slumber party, Megan had instructed her guests to wear “purple pj’s” and to bring a change of clothes for breakfast in the morning. Megan’s mom had agreed to make blueberry pancakes for breakfast, but she had said, “Nothing purple after that. All things must end.”
Megan had already decided to wear a really dark purple pajama top with a really bright pair of purple pajama pants. The top was decorated with daisies and the bottom was decorated with ducks, but Megan figured that didn’t matter. Purple goes with purple, and the more purple, the better, she thought. Besides, it’s a little less than perfect and all the better for it.
She had hardly finished buttoning the top and tugging on her purple fuzzy slippers when the front doorbell began to ring.
• • •
It was Kaitlyn, wearing a long lavender nightgown. She waited at the door with an overnight bag over her shoulder and a wild purple birthday present in her hands. “Happy Birthday, Megan,” she screamed, beside herself with giggles.
“You’re the first one!” cried Megan.
It wasn’t long before Casey and Maya joined the party. Casey wore a long plum-colored bathrobe, and Maya had on a long baggy lavender T-shirt. And then three more girls, Tracy, Kim, and Melinda, arrived at the door. Only six girls had arrived so far, but already the decibel level in the house was threatening to go through the roof.
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