by Annie Bryant
Why don’t I ask her? Charlotte mused. Miss Pierce always gave helpful answers. Charlotte knew that Miss Pierce would give her a good answer about spirit, too. Without giving herself time to think any more about it, Charlotte asked boldly, “So what does spirit mean to you, Miss Pierce?”
Miss Pierce didn’t hesitate. She looked up at the sky once more and said, “Why, spirit to me means reaching for the stars. One of my favorite quotes is by Ralph Waldo Emerson, who said, ‘Hitch your wagon to a star.’ With my career, it’s obvious that I took it quite literally, but I believe it also means that you should reach for your dreams and push your limits until you are happy and successful.”
“What a wonderful answer, Miss Pierce!” Charlotte cried. She quickly memorized it so she could write it down as soon as she got home.
They had reached the park. Miss Pierce stood looking around a little hesitantly, fiddling with the ends of her scarf. “Did your professor say where he was meeting you?” Charlotte prompted her.
“He said he’d find me,” Miss Pierce said, her voice suddenly confident. “And I’m sure he will.”
“Why don’t you sit on a bench, then, and wait for him?” Charlotte suggested.
“Excellent idea. Thank you, dear. Have a nice walk. You too, Marty. And good luck with your article.” Miss Pierce settled on a bench in clear view of the rest of the park and looked quite satisfied to wait in peace.
“Good luck, Miss Pierce. I hope you have a good time talking with your old friend. I think Marty needs a run today,” Charlotte said, waving good-bye. Miss Pierce waved back at her, but Charlotte knew she was already a world away, thinking about her meeting.
Marty was pulling hard on the leash, and Charlotte looked ahead to see why: Marty had spotted some of his favorite doggy friends. Charlotte saw Louie the bulldog straining at his leash to get at Marty. Even better, she spotted La Fanny, the beautiful pink poodle who was sort of Marty’s girlfriend, if dogs actually had girlfriends! And holding the end of La Fanny’s leash was her owner, Ms. Razzberry Pink, whom Charlotte had met just a few months ago.
Ms. Razzberry Pink was definitely in the category of the unusual, because she had dyed pink hair and wore the color pink all the time. She had told Charlotte that it was important to dedicate your life to something, and so she had decided to dedicate her life to the color pink. She explained that pink made people happy, and so Razzberry figured that was a pretty good reason to open up her Think Pink boutique. Charlotte guessed that wearing all pink was a good advertisement for her business, too. Maeve was always saving up for the latest Think Pink item; this time it was an adorable pink velvet duffle with rhinestones. Ms. Pink was always friendly and interested in what was going on with Charlotte and the rest of the BSG, and that day she hailed her enthusiastically. “Hi, Charlotte! How are you and Marty?”
At that moment Charlotte lost control of Marty, who yanked the leash from the end of her fingers and ran off to play with his friends. Charlotte could see he wasn’t interested in going anywhere dangerous, just running happily in circles and yipping at the top of his little doggy lungs, so she could spend some time talking to Ms. Pink instead of chasing him. She rubbed her sore fingers and said ruefully, “We’re both fine, thanks for asking, Ms. Pink.”
“How’s school?” Ms. Razzberry Pink had gone to Abigail Adams Junior High herself, years before, so she always wanted to know about what was new there. “C’mon, sit down on this bench and tell me everything. I’ll pretend that I’m young again.”
Charlotte giggled. It was funny because Ms. Pink was actually not old at all…maybe twenty-nine or thirty. She sat down and started to tell Ms. Pink all about Spirit Week. She wasn’t sure whether she could explain it very well, but once she started, Ms. Pink nodded knowingly. “Oh, yes. I loved Spirit Week. It was the first time I ever dyed my hair…pink, of course!”
Charlotte couldn’t think how to answer that. Although she would never tell Miss Pink because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings, she thought the pink hair was a little too much, and definitely not Charlotte’s style. But Charlotte could see that Ms. Pink was excited about her Spirit Week story. So Charlotte, budding reporter that she was, encouraged her to go on. “Tell me all about it!”
“Oh, my, it really was something. Your Spirit Week sounds a lot like ours, with a dance and committees to join.” Ms. Pink waited until she saw Charlotte’s nod of confirmation before she went on. “Well, I decided my spirit was going to be about pink, so I dyed my hair and wore it that way the whole week. I knew people thought I was strange, but I didn’t care. The pink hair was completely me, and it made me feel fabulous. Mrs. Fields was wonderful to me. I think she understood that I was one of those kids who was going to live outside of the box…and so I have.”
“Really?” Charlotte asked. Whenever she talked to Razzberry, she forgot about the pink hair altogether and felt drawn into the Ms. Pink stories.
“Oh, yes, but you know something funny?” the store owner continued. “At the end of the week, when I made my speech about feeling the pink spirit, people clapped like crazy, and I realized I had actually said to the whole school what I really believed in my heart. It was a big moment for me, a real turning point. I think that was the first time,” she said reflectively, “that I really felt good about expressing myself in my own way. And I made some good friends that week too. In fact, they’re still my friends today.” She stopped and turned to Charlotte. “Really, Spirit Week was very important in my life. I hope it’ll be an amazing week for you, too.”
It had taken Ms. Pink a long time to tell Charlotte the full story. When Charlotte looked at her watch, she realized that it was time to head home. “Thanks for sharing your Spirit Week story, Ms. Pink,” she said, and she stood up to call Marty. Now that Charlotte had conducted interviews with the BSG, Miss Pierce, and Ms. Pink, she couldn’t wait to get going on her article. Jennifer’s bad attitude is not going to get me down, Charlotte resolved. Her angle for the article was really coming together, and she wanted to finalize a list of people who would be perfect to ask for their definition of spirit. She knew she wanted a quote from Mrs. Fields and some of her favorite seventh-grade teachers, and maybe she could even find a great quote from Abigail Adams, the second First Lady of the United States, for whom their school was named. “This article is going to be fantastic!” she whispered to herself. “I think it could be one of the best things I’ve ever done!”
“Marty, come!” she called. “Time to go home!” She pulled her coat more snugly around herself. It was starting to get bitterly cold. “Thanks so much, Ms. Pink,” she said gratefully. “I can’t wait to show my article to you when it’s done.”
“I’d love to read it, Charlotte,” Ms. Pink answered, waving her pink-polished hand. “See you soon.”
Marty trotted over to Charlotte obediently. His play time with his friends had tired him out enough that he was delighted to head home. Charlotte looked around for Miss Pierce. She’d left her on the bench right in the middle of the park and hadn’t noticed her leaving, but Miss Pierce wasn’t there now.
Well, it’s getting cold, she told herself reasonably. Maybe her professor arrived and they went inside for coffee. Probably to Montoya’s Bakery.
Charlotte walked to the edge of the park and started down Harvard Street, hoping she’d find Miss Pierce at Montoya’s. But as she headed for the bakery, she saw two alarmingly familiar figures sauntering toward her. Oh, no! The Queens of Mean were headed right for her, looking pleased with themselves as usual. Just what I need right now, Charlotte thought.
The basketball was making its usual hollow thud in the driveway of the Madden house as Avery played a game of D-O-N-K-E-Y with her older brother, Scott. Taller than Avery by almost a foot, Scott also had a few more years of practice, since he was sixteen. But Avery was strong and accurate with her shots; she could usually count on winning at least half the D-O-N-K-E-Y games they played together.
Today, though, Avery was thinking as much about Sp
irit Week as about their game. As Scott dribbled the ball a couple of times and set up a shot, Avery said in a casual tone, “You know, I really think I can be the head of the sports committee.”
Scott shot the ball and watched it swish neatly through the basket. “Another one for me,” he said with satisfaction. “You’ve got D-O-N, and I’ve only got D…ha-ha!”
“Don’t you think I could do a great job heading up the sports committee?” Avery said again, ignoring her brother’s teasing. She wasn’t in the mood for an all-out Madden battle, and she really wanted to know what her brother thought about going for the head spot.
But Scott wasn’t too excited about the idea. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Do you want to do it all by yourself? Why don’t you work with a boy, like a cochair or something? That way, you’d show everybody how the committees and the teams can be coed.” He took another shot and watched it swish through the net. “Still only D for me.”
Avery bristled. “Why does everyone think a boy should be running things? Why can’t a girl do it herself?”
Scott shrugged. “You asked me, Ave. I just told you what I thought.”
“Well, maybe I don’t care what you think!” Avery shouted. She grabbed the basketball from Scott, even though it wasn’t her turn, and started dribbling toward the basket. She was angry but just a little worried that Scott might be right, that having a girl and boy working together was really the right way to handle the sports committee. And because Avery was a little doubtful, she took out her frustration on the court.
“Hey, squirt!” Scott shouted. “This isn’t one-on-one!” He chased her down by the basket, and Avery tried in vain to shoot the ball past him. But he was too tall and too good at guarding her, which was making her more and more frustrated!
Finally Avery did a quick pivot to get away from Scott and stood for a split second, aiming the ball at the basket, which was almost directly above her head.
Scott immediately jumped into her line of sight, and when she tried to pivot in another direction, he put his hand on her head to keep her from moving. “Scott, stop it!” Avery cried, trying to shake his hand off. “Foul! That’s a foul!”
“This isn’t a pickup game!” he shouted back. “We’re playing D-O-N-K-E-Y, Avery! Stop being a baby—I just told you what I thought and you got mad at me!”
Avery was so furious that he was keeping her from the basket and now that he had called her a baby, she was determined to shoot no matter what. She tucked the ball under one arm and started pushing Scott away with her other arm. Scott grabbed her arm and wouldn’t let go, no matter how hard she tried to pull away.
Finally, Avery gave up. She shoved the basketball hard into Scott’s arms and started to jog off, mumbling under her breath. Scott threw the ball onto the grass. “Relax, Ave. I was just kidding,” he said.
“Oh, sure!” Avery retorted. “Well, that’s the second time I’ve heard that excuse today, and it’s getting really old!”
Anyway, there was no point in wasting time with Scott. Avery knew she needed to go to her room and calm down. Then she would start thinking about a campaign that would guarantee she would be chosen to head up the sports committee. What I need is a good slogan, she thought.
Avery brainstormed as she climbed the steps to her room, and at her bedroom door, an idea flashed into her mind. She ran over to her desk, snatched a blank sheet of paper and wrote on it in bright red marker: SPORT SPIRIT—GIVE IT YOUR BEST!
She held the slogan at a distance, very satisfied with how it looked and sounded. That ought to get people pumped, she thought. And it should be just what I need to prove that I’m the right person to run the sports committee!
CHAPTER
10
Without a Trail
Charlotte slowed her pace as she made her way down Harvard Street. The last thing she wanted was to run right into Anna and Joline, especially when she was worried about Miss Pierce. Where was Miss Pierce? It seemed kind of strange that she’d disappeared.
Even if I wasn’t worried about Miss Pierce, I wouldn’t want to run into the Queens of Mean, Charlotte admitted to herself. They’re rude enough to turn a day full of sunshine into a day of rain!
But Anna and Joline seemed determined to run into Charlotte. “Oh, what a cute doggy!” Joline cried, kneeling down to pet Marty. Charlotte gritted her teeth and stopped; she couldn’t get away from them without yanking poor Marty off his feet, and she refused to do that to the little dude, who was shamelessly wagging his tail at Joline.
“He is cute,” Anna agreed, but she stayed on her feet and contented herself with making faces at Marty. And then, as though she had just noticed Charlotte, she said, “Oh, hey, Charlotte.” Marty turned his doggy face up to Anna’s and was wagging his tail winningly to grab her attention, but Anna kept her sharp eyes on Charlotte.
Joline was cooing to Marty. “You are such a beautiful dog, you sweet thing! Charlotte, what’s his name again?”
“Marty,” Charlotte said shortly. Everything about this meeting felt strange to her. She felt sure the Queens of Mean had something up their sleeves besides their arms!
“Maaaarty,” Joline sang to the dog, stretching out the word and rubbing her cheek against his fur. “Marty, you are sooo darling!”
Marty, you are a such a flirt, Charlotte thought. But you’re wasting your time with these two. They’re not sensitive enough to know how lovable you really are—they just want something from me, and they won’t leave you alone ’til they get it!
While Joline took Marty’s paw and shook it, Anna said casually to Charlotte, “So, how’s your friend Isabel?”
I smell a rat, Charlotte thought. So that’s why they’re stopping me on the street! Aloud, she said, “Oh, Isabel’s great. Why do you ask?”
Anna just smiled tolerantly at her. “You’ll find out tomorrow, I’m sure,” she quipped. “C’mon, Joline.”
Joline immediately got to her feet and followed her friend. Marty looked after Joline with a bewildered face as she and Anna traipsed down the street, giggling. Charlotte made a face after them, the kind of face you got when you bit into a sour lemon. Marty let out a couple of barks and spun around a few times, unable to understand that Joline had lost interest in him. I knew it, Charlotte said to herself. “Don’t worry, Marty, we still love you,” she whispered to the disappointed pet.
“Charlotte, what is the big hurry up?” The question came from Yuri, the Russian grocer who often gave her lovely fresh apples in the mornings. “You have no time for Yuri and his fruit? These pears is from Chile. Beautiful fresh. Is best pears for cold weather.”
“Oh, Yuri, you know I love your fruit. But I can’t find Miss Pierce, and I’m beginning to worry about her.”
“Cannot find? You lose her? She a whole person, how can you lose?” Yuri scratched his head as though he didn’t quite understand.
“Well, sort of. We went to the park together, and when I was ready to leave she was gone. I’m hoping she just went to Montoya’s for coffee and to warm up. But it seems kind of strange that she would just disappear.”
Yuri thought for a minute. “I bring fruit Miss Pierce every week. Twice a week for long time, I bring her fruit. She never go out, Miss Pierce. Wait! She owe me money for last shipment. I not like to lose my good customers that owe me money!”
Charlotte couldn’t help smiling, despite her anxiety about Miss Pierce. Yuri’s grumpiness was kind of cute in its own way. “Hopefully she’s just down the street at Montoya’s. I’m sure everything’s okay.”
Yuri shook his head. “I was talking to my fruit here all afternoon. I would see her pass. She never come this way. She not at Montoya’s.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything. Yuri tended to go back and forth from his outside stand to his shop to get more merchandise; she thought he could have been inside when Miss Pierce passed.
Yuri’s weathered face was worried. “Here. You wait.” He fumbled for a slip of paper and a pencil and wrote something
down. “My e-mail address. You e-mail me later, yes? Tell me Miss Pierce is all good again, safe inside her house.” He tried to seem offhand but couldn’t quite manage it. Yuri was clearly concerned that Miss Pierce was missing. “Only so I can collect what she owe me, yes?”
Charlotte took the paper and smiled as she put it in her pocket. Yuri’s e-mail address was appleman@yurifruit. com. She tried to smile up at Yuri, but she was getting more and more worried by the minute. She thought it was sweet that Yuri was worried about Miss Pierce, too, even if he tried to cover it up with all his talk about not losing good customers.
Charlotte continued on her way to Montoya’s, hoping that she would be right and that Miss Pierce would be sitting at a table chatting with her old astronomy professor. I’ll just go in and look around, she thought, and then I’ll…oh, no, I can’t!
She looked down unhappily at Marty trotting along next to her. She couldn’t bring a dog into a bakery!
Well, then she’d have to see what she could spy from the outside. When she got to Montoya’s, she leaned against the window and squinted. The bakery was well lit within, and Charlotte scanned the room from one side to the other. It wasn’t very busy inside, making it easy to spot all the patrons.
Yuri was right. Miss Pierce wasn’t there.
Suddenly, a face appeared on the other side of the window. Oh, no! It was Nick Montoya, a friend of Charlotte’s who worked at the bakery to help out his family. He had just dropped off pastries and coffee to some college students, and after serving them, stood looking curiously at Charlotte.
Frozen in place with her face pressed flat against the window, Charlotte knew her features must be all smushed and distorted. She hoped she hadn’t been drooling. That would have been too disgusting. Marty was jumping up and lapping at the window too. Nick tried to hold it in but he couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing.
Charlotte jumped back from the window and turned a deep red. Could things get worse? She lost her landlady, and then Nick, who was so cute and really nice and one of her good friends, saw her having a Kodak moment against the bakery window!