Piper Reed, Campfire Girl

by Kimberly Willis Holt

  Get off the bus!

  Bruna walked over to me and sat. Dried leaves stuck to her coat. She looked up.

  I patted her head. “Good girl.”

  She stood and wagged her tail.

  “Good girl,” I said again.

  She barked.

  “What’s wrong, Bruna?” I asked.

  Then our entire group of campers yelled, “She wants a Liver Lump!”

  “Genius,” muttered Tori.

  “Oh, I knew that.” I dug in my pocket and pulled out five Liver Lumps. And although I usually gave her only one or two a day, this time, I gave her every one of them. It was Halloween, after all.

  And it was the best Halloween ever—poison ivy and pink polka dots and finding Bruna. And it wouldn’t have happened without Stanley’s great idea. Finally Stanley could do something special that none of us could do. Not even his pumpkin head brother Simon. Stanley Hampshire could think like a dog!

  11

  HAPPY TRAILS

  While Chief cooked pancakes for breakfast the next morning, I took paper, scissors, and markers, and made something for Stanley. The idea came to me after we found Bruna. Michael and Hailey agreed we should do it.

  I gobbled down three pancakes. Then I put Bruna on her leash and together we walked to the lake. After what happened last night, I didn’t want her out of my sight.

  The Gypsy Club met me on the dock. Nicole must have gotten better because she was there, too.

  “Today we have a special presentation for our newest member—Stanley Hampshire.”

  Stanley’s eyes popped wide. “Me? Gosh, what did I do that was so special? I mean I’m not saying that I don’t want to have a special presentation, but I just can’t possibly think of what I could have done to deserve this. I—”

  My hand went up, the palm facing him. “Stanley!”

  “What?”

  “Be quiet.” Then I added. “Please.”

  “If you say so,” Stanley said.

  I cleared my throat. “Stanley, as founder of the Gypsy Club, I’m proud to present our very first badge to you.”

  “A badge,” Stanley started. “I can—”

  I held up my palm and he pressed his lips together tight.

  Then I held up the badge. “Stanley, you have earned the Think Like a Dog badge. If it weren’t for your suggestion, we might never have found Bruna. It was a simple idea, but most great ideas are. Why, look at the invention of Velcro. That came about because of some grass burrs sticking to a man’s clothing. Just think if that simple idea had never happened and look at—”

  Hailey sighed and showed me her palm.

  “Okay,” I said. “Anyway, Stanley, you deserve this badge. If you hadn’t thought of that idea, I would have never said Liver Lump.”

  Bruna barked and wiggled her tail.

  “And,” I continued, but Hailey interrupted.

  “That’s right,” she said. “We’re proud of you, Stanley.”

  “I’m proud of you, too,” said Nicole.

  “Just remember,” Michael said, “I was the one who invited him to the Gypsy Club.”

  “You don’t get a badge for that,” I told him. I pinned the badge on Stanley’s shirt and we all saluted him. Then I counted, “One, two, three!” And we all said, “Get off the bus, Stanley Hampshire!”

  An hour later we formed our caravan. The Austins first, then Brady’s family, then us. When we arrived in Yazoo, Alabama, everyone else drove on while we waited for Uncle Leo in the post office parking lot.

  “I wonder if Uncle Leo will get lost again,” said Sam.

  “Probably,” Mom said.

  Chief smiled at her and she laughed.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “It worked once before.”

  “What?” Tori asked.

  “We could holler Liver Lump.”

  “Hardy-har-har,” said Tori.

  Just then we spotted Uncle Leo’s car coming down the road.

  “He’s bound to see us now,” Chief said. “We’ve got the Airstream.”

  But Uncle Leo drove right on by, not even glancing our way.

  Chief groaned. “Oh, no!”

  All of us jumped out of the car, getting ready for him to pass again. This time we knew better than to call his name.

  I had a hunch about what would work. Thank goodness Uncle Leo’s car window was down. When he made a U-turn and headed back, I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, “Hummingbird!”

  Then, all of us, even Chief hollered, “Hummingbird! Hummingbird!”

  Uncle Leo screeched on the brakes, stopping in time to make the turn into the parking lot. He pulled up next to us.

  “Did anyone say hummingbird?” he asked, staring as if he was expecting us to hand over a stripe-tailed one.

  Stanley Hampshire’s genius idea had worked again! But I don’t even think Stanley would want a Think-Like-an-Uncle-Leo badge.

  Later, back in our car, I said, “It’s too bad Uncle Leo doesn’t have a cell phone anymore.”

  Sam leaned forward. “Daddy, can I use your cell phone? I have an important call to make.”

  Chief chuckled. “Sounds very important.” He handed his phone to Sam.

  “What’s Mrs. Austin’s cell phone number?” Sam asked.

  Mom told the number and Sam began to dial. “Hi, Mrs. Austin. May I please speak to Stanley?”

  Sam opened her copy of Princess Samantha, Ruler of the Fair Land of NAS Pensacola and began to read. “Then the princess thought about all the people on the base …”

  I sighed. Maybe there shouldn’t be a Think-Like-an-Uncle-Leo badge, but after this, Stanley definitely deserved a Surviving-Sam’s-Story badge!

  GOFISH

  QUESTIONS FOR THE AUTHOR

  Kimberly Willis Holt

  Are Tori, Piper, and Sam Reed based on your own family growing up?

  Yes. Although most of the book comes from my imagination, the setup is very autobiographical. My dad was a Navy chief and I am one of three girls. However, I’m the oldest. Growing up, I was the serious one, the bossy one, the one who worried about her weight. I didn’t think that point of view would be as interesting as my middle sister’s. She was the funny one, the confident one, the clever one.

  Being the middle sister has its advantages and disadvantages, but ultimately Piper seems stronger as a result of her position in the family. Do you agree?

  I do. All the sisters are planners, but Piper has the most guts. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and she does what she sets out to do. She doesn’t always get the results she hoped for, but she goes for it.

  As a child, you lived on many different Navy bases because your father was stationed all over the world. What did you like most and least about being a “Navy Brat”?

  I don’t think I truly appreciated what a military life offered me while I was growing up. I hated moving. I was shy and didn’t make friends easily. About the time I would start to feel at home, we moved, again. Now I look back on that experience and realize how rich a childhood I had. I was exposed to many cultures. And I learned to be adaptable and tolerant. I’m interested in people. Even though I was shy growing up, now I feel like I can talk to anyone. I believe that is because of my childhood.

  What are some of the ways in which the life of a Navy family is different today than it was back when you were growing up?

  One major difference is that when the parents are away on an assignment, military kids today can stay in touch with them more easily. I interviewed several groups of Navy kids whose parents were serving on a ship. They told me how they e-mailed their mom or dad every day. A couple of kids even played Internet games with their military parent. Now that’s a huge improvement. I can remember when my dad was away we looked forward to the mail—snail mail.

  Another difference is that there are a lot of kids with moms serving in the military today. That wasn’t common when I was a kid. That’s why I wrote about two of Piper’s friends having their moms serve on the same
ship as Piper’s dad.

  Is there really such a thing as Sister Magic?

  Sure. I think it really has to do more with shared life experiences than genes, though. My sisters and I might laugh at something that no one else would think was funny.

  When did you realize you wanted to be a writer? In seventh grade, three teachers encouraged my writing. That was when I first thought the dream could come true. Before that, I didn’t think I could be a writer because I wasn’t a great student and I read slowly.

  What’s your first childhood memory?

  Buying an orange Dreamcicle from the ice-cream man. I was two years old.

  What’s your most embarrassing childhood memory?

  In fourth grade, I tried impress the popular girls that I wanted to be friends with by doing somersaults in front of them. (I never learned to do cartwheels.) They called me a showoff so I guess it didn’t work. If only I’d known how to do a cartwheel.

  What was your first job?

  I was in the movies. I popped popcorn at the Westside Cinemas.

  How did you celebrate publishing your first book?

  I’m sure my family went out to dinner. We always celebrate by eating.

  Where do you write your books?

  I write several places—a big soft chair in my bedroom, at a table on my screen porch, or at coffee shops.

  Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

  Most of the inspirations for my writing come from moments in my childhood.

  Which of your characters is most like you?

  I’m a bit like most of them. However, I fashioned Tori in the Piper Reed books after me. But Tori is bossier than I was and she certainly makes better grades than I did.

  What’s your idea of the best meal ever?

  That’s a toss-up. My grandmother’s chicken and dumplings, and sushi.

  Which do you like better: cats or dogs?

  I’m a dog person. I have a poodle named Bronte who is the model for Bruna.

  Who is your favorite fictional character?

  Leroy in Mister and Me because he is forgiving. And that’s a trait many of us don’t have.

  What’s the best advice you have ever received about writing?

  A writer once told me, “Readers either see what they read or hear what they read. Writers have to learn to write for both.” When I started following that advice, my writing improved.

  What do you want readers to remember about your books?

  The characters. I want them to seem like real people. I want them to miss them and wonder what happened to them.

  What would you do if you ever stopped writing?

  I plan on dying with a pen in my hand.

  What do you wish you could do better?

  I wish I could do a cartwheel.

  What would your readers be most surprised to learn about you?

  I send gift cards with positive messages to myself when I order something for me.

  Piper’s parents may be taking a trip to France without her, but that’s no reason to be sad. Piper and her sisters will have their own vacation on their grandparents’ ranch!

  Piper’s adventures continue in

  PIPER REED RODEO STAR

  A PINEY WOODS CHRISTMAS

  Mom and Chief were going on a honeymoon to Paris, France. Chief called it a second honeymoon, but Mom said she didn’t call driving from Piney Woods, Louisiana, to Waukegan, Illinois, in an old Buick Impala a honeymoon. Mom and Chief lived in Waukegan when Chief received his first assignment at the Great Lakes Naval Station.

  “Where will we stay while you’re in France?” I asked.

  “Piney Woods,” said Chief. “You girls can have a nice visit with your grandparents.”

  Both sets of our grandparents lived in the country. And they both had a few animals—not enough to be a real farm, but it was the closest to a farm that we’d ever seen.

  We were sitting on the back porch while Chief barbecued chicken on the grill. Bruna ran around the yard, barking. Anytime we gathered out in the backyard Bruna got excited, as if the yard belonged to her and we were her guests.

  “What about Bruna?” I asked.

  Chief snapped the tongs three times before using them to turn the chicken. “She can go, too,” he said. “Although you’ll have to keep her on a leash when she’s outside. Remember what happened when we took her camping, Piper?”

  I didn’t need to be reminded. It had been my fault when Bruna wandered off Halloween night and caused us to form a search party.

  “How about Peaches the Second?” Sam asked. “Can she go to Piney Woods?”

  “Brady’s family will watch your goldfish,” Mom said. “Piney Woods is too far of a drive for Peaches.”

  “Peaches the Second,” said Sam. “But who will feed her?”

  “We’ve already asked Yolanda. She said Brady would love to take care of your fish.”

  Sam folded her arms in front of her chest. “Brady is too little.”

  “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “It’s just sprinkling fish flakes in the fishbowl.”

  Tori sighed. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.” My big sister thought she should get to do anything she wanted since she was thirteen years old.

  I told her, “Tori, you just think France has a huge all-you-can-eat buffet with french fries.” She loved french fries and just about any other thing called food.

  “That’s not why!” Tori snapped. “I want to see the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. I want to walk the streets of Montmartre where van Gogh lived.”

  Sam jumped to her feet. “I know who Vincent van Gogh is.” My little sister was the biggest six-year-old show-off on the planet.

  “We all know van Gogh,” I said. Mom was our art teacher at school, but even before that, she made sure we knew every great master. Anytime a museum had a special exhibit, Mom acted as if it was a new roller-coaster ride at Six Flags and took us. I actually liked going to the museum exhibits. But not as much as I wanted to ride a roller coaster.

  “Just think of the fun you’ll have with all your relatives,” Mom said. “And your grandparents are looking forward to spending time with you.”

  “When are you leaving?” I asked.

  “During the holidays,” Mom said. “We’ll be back in time to ring in the new year.”

  Sam’s eyes bulged. “You won’t be with us for Christmas?”

  Mom looked at Chief, who cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, girls. There was no other way. You get out a few days before Christmas, and I couldn’t get off sooner than that.”

  Mom held the platter for Chief while he removed the chicken from the grill. I loved Chief’s barbecued chicken because of the secret ingredient (Louisiana hot sauce!).

  “Tori,” Chief said, “please set the picnic table.”

  “It’s Piper’s turn,” Tori snapped.

  “Piper?” Chief said.

  I saluted him. “Aye, aye, Chief.” I dashed into the house and opened the silverware drawer. I was going to miss Mom and Chief. Last year Chief was on a ship during Christmas, but we’d never spent Christmas without Mom.

  When I came back out, I studied all the sad faces around the table. The USS Reed Family ship was sinking fast. Somebody had to cheer up the crew. I decided to start with the squirt. “Don’t worry, Sam. Santa can figure out where you are.”

  Little puddles filled Sam’s eyes. “Who will read us The Night Before Christmas?”

  Every Christmas Eve, Chief read Cajun Night Before Christmas, which is kind of like the regular Night Before Christmas, only it has alligators instead of reindeer and gumbo instead of sugarplums.

  No one said anything. Sam stared my way. “Don’t look at me!” I snapped. Except for dog books like Shiloh and Sable, I’d rather go to the mall all day with Tori than read. Even if I didn’t have dyslexia, I’d find something else to do.

  “I’ll read it,” Tori said. That figured. She would probably require a costume and make us pay admission to listen
to her read.

  “Chicken’s ready,” Chief said. We settled around the picnic table. Smoke from the grill was dying down, and the smell of our chicken mixed with other barbecue smells from our neighbors’ backyards in the enlisted housing. That’s what was nice about living in Florida. You could barbecue all year long.

  Chief passed the bowl of potato salad. “Girls, this was a hard decision for us to make. We hate missing Christmas, but your mom and I haven’t had any time by ourselves since before Tori was born. Sometimes parents need a little alone time.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Aren’t we any fun?”

  Mom looked at Chief. “Karl, this is starting to feel like a terrible idea. Maybe we could wait until another year.”

  “When?” Chief asked. “When all the girls are grown?”

  “Hey,” I said, “great idea!”

  Chief frowned at me.

  “Bad idea,” I mumbled.

  Chief shook his head. “Edie, we’ll lose the deposit money.”

  All of a sudden, I felt torn down the middle. I wanted them to stay. I wanted them to go.

  Then I heard myself say, “Mom, you and Chief go to Paris. Sometimes kids need a little alone time without parents.”

  PIPER REED, CAMPFIRE GIRL. Text copyright © 2010 by Kimberly Willis Holt.