The Nora Notebooks, Book 2

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The Nora Notebooks, Book 2 Page 9

by Claudia Mills


  Nora/Martha: All right, I guess.

  What a boring answer! Emma, Brody, Mason, and Amy had all done better than that!

  Ace Reporter Joe: Anything else you’d like to share?

  Nora/Martha: I like seeing new kinds of wildlife everywhere.

  She tried to remember some of her diary entries.

  Nora/Martha: Especially crows. Did you know that crows have the biggest brain-to-body ratio of all bird species?

  Ace Reporter Joe: So it sounds as if looking after a husband and three little ones hasn’t kept you from making lots of scientific observations, Mrs. Talbot. Good for you!

  That was the end of the interview. Sarah took Nellie back from Nora, Nora gave her sister a parting hug, and Sarah, Jeff, and Nellie slipped away.

  Back at her desk again, Nora thought about Ace Reporter Joe’s last comment. Although she had signed every diary entry by writing, “Baby crying! Gotta go!” she hadn’t written anything else about her family at all.

  Despite being a busy mother of three, she had written about science.

  Despite being a single woman alone, Emma had found herself a beau.

  Destined to die of a fever in Wyoming, Brody had been his sunny, happy self.

  Destined to live a long and prosperous life in Oregon, Mason had done nothing but complain.

  Whatever the fate cards had said, without any trading of fate cards along the way, all of them had remained true to themselves.

  Nora still didn’t know where those selves came from.

  Maybe there was some kind of fate card that the laws of science gave you at birth? Maybe how other people treated you every day for all kinds of strange reasons was a fate card of its own?

  Or maybe not.

  There was a lot, she realized, that she didn’t know about fate.

  The Plainfield Elementary PA system clicked on ten minutes before the dismissal bell.

  Nora heard the voice of the principal, who was getting ready to announce the results of the science-fair judging: which four projects from each grade had been selected for the regional science fair at the university next month.

  Nora couldn’t block the thought: If only she could have done a really scientific science-fair project, by herself and not with Emma!

  Then again, she and Emma had found out something pretty interesting she would never have learned otherwise.

  The principal read the names of the winners from the lower grades.

  Then: “Fourth grade. ‘Slope Angle and Erosion,’ by Alice Eaton and Bryant Quinley.” Two kids not in Coach Joe’s class.

  “ ‘Turning Potential Energy into Kinetic Energy.’ ”

  “That’s us!” Dunk shouted, pumping his fist into the air. “We won!”

  “By Sheng Ji,” the principal’s voice continued.

  “Wait! He forgot to say my name!” Dunk said.

  But Nora knew that the principal hadn’t forgotten to say Dunk’s name. The judges must have left it off the prize on purpose.

  Dunk reddened as he realized that, too. Despite her earlier comments about his laziness, Emma clucked indignantly on his behalf and took a sympathetic sniff of his sunflowers in the tin can on her desk.

  The principal was still reading out project names. “ ‘Judging Sound by Direction,’ by Latisha Jones and Eric Chu.” Two other kids not in Coach Joe’s class.

  “ ‘The Power of Pink,’ by Nora Alpers and Emma Averill.”

  That couldn’t be right. Not with that dumb title that Emma had insisted on. Not with only two charts!

  Emma squealed and threw herself at Nora for a hug.

  “That’s us!”

  Stunned, Nora hugged Emma back.

  At home, Nora checked on her ant farm. She didn’t want her ants to think she had forgotten them in all the excitement of the science fair, the Oregon Trail, and a brand-new niece. Not that her ants knew or cared whether she remembered them or not, so long as food and water arrived every day.

  She saw a new branched tunnel near where an old tunnel had collapsed. Two ants were struggling to carry off the morsel of cracker she had deposited in the farm as today’s allotment of food.

  Despite everything, ants were still ants, and always would be.

  Nora found Sarah and Jeff upstairs in the guest room, changing Nellie.

  “Thanks for bringing her to school today,” Nora told them.

  “Don’t forget to give us our cut of the box-office take for the movie,” Jeff joked.

  Nellie wasn’t wearing her pioneer dress; she had on another sleeper, not pink this time but pale green with yellow stripes.

  “Can I hold her again?” Nora asked.

  “Sure. She’s clean and dry now,” Sarah said.

  Nora perched on the edge of Sarah’s unmade bed, holding Nellie the way Martha Talbot had held her before. It was less scary holding a baby for the third time.

  Nora said in a low voice, “Hi, Nellie. I’m your aunt Nora.”

  Nellie gurgled with contentment.

  “And I’m going to teach you all about science.”

  The baby looked ready to fall asleep. Science lessons would have to wait. But for now, at least, Nora could sing Nellie a lullaby.

  “The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!” Nora sang as softly as she could.

  Eyes closed, Nellie gave a sigh of appreciation.

  “The ants go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah!” Nora whispered.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’m always grateful whenever I’m given the chance to express gratitude. My wonderful editor, Nancy Hinkel, makes each email exchange and phone call a delight: what a gift she has for bringing the best out of every story. Katie Kath’s illustrations for the book couldn’t be more adorable. Thanks also to my constantly supportive agent, Steve Fraser; to fabulously careful copy editors Karen Sherman, Janet Renard, Amy Schroeder, and Artie Bennett; to Isabel Warren-Lynch and Trish Parcell for their appealing book design; and to Stephen Brown and Julia Maguire for help throughout in countless ways. Above all, I’m grateful to Kataleya Lee Wahl, the most important baby in my life, who is truly never any trouble at all.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Claudia Mills is the author of over fifty books for young readers, including the Mason Dixon series. She does not personally keep an ant farm, but she does have a cat, Snickers, with whom she curls up on her couch at home in Boulder, Colorado, drinking hot chocolate and writing. Visit her at claudiamillsauthor.com.

 

 

 


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