The Sassy Collection

by Sharon M. Draper

  I go to Grammy and give her another big hug. She always smells like vanilla ice cream.

  “I brought you something special for your birthday, Grammy,” I tell her quietly.

  “If it comes from my Sassy girl, I know it will be wonderful,” she tells me. “And I see you wore your lucky pink ribbon.”

  I’m glad she notices.

  I feel peaceful in Poppy and Grammy’s house. She has painted everything in tones of pale blue and peach. Soft music plays in the background. And the ocean dances in the distance.

  We all sit down to sandwiches and lemonade at their big dining room table. I realize I’m really, really hungry. Even Sadora gobbles all her lunch, and she’s a very picky eater. Sabin, of course, eats like a starving elephant.

  “How do you stay so thin, Sabin?” Grammy asks with a chuckle. She offers him a plate of brownies. He takes four of them.

  “Basketball and track!” he replies with his mouth full.

  Just as Sabin is about to reach for another sweet treat, a deep, booming voice calls from the doorway, “I hope somebody left the last brownie for me!”

  “Poppy!” we all cry out. Sabin reaches Poppy first and hugs him with chocolate-covered fingers. Sadora and I grab him and hug him tightly, too.

  I think Poppy wears a cologne called Grandfather. It smells strong and comfortable, like clothes fresh out of the dryer. He wears a flowered shirt like Daddy wore on the plane, but on Poppy it looks right. He’s taller than Daddy and a lot rounder. Poppy has a full head of curly gray hair.

  Poppy strides across the room, shakes hands with my father, then gives my mom a special hug. She whispers, “Good to see you, Dad,” and I realize she looks at him just like I look at my daddy.

  “How’s it going at the university?” Mom asks Poppy as he grabs the last brownie and sits down to a sandwich Grammy made for him.

  “Just great. I’m planning to take some students to study in Egypt next year. We’re going to explore the pyramids!”

  “Awesome,” Sadora says.

  “And I’m going on the trip to gather stories and clothes and shoes!” Grammy adds with a laugh.

  After lunch we unpack some of our stuff. Grammy’s house is huge. She has three guest rooms. I share the room that has twin beds and twin fans with Sadora. Mom and Daddy share a room.

  Sabin will sleep in the loft in the attic. He likes that. “Did you know I can access the Internet from that room?” he tells us. “Way cool. I can surf the net and download some tunes while I’m here.”

  “If I can pull you from that computer, Sabin, are you ready for some real surfing?” Grammy asks with a smile. “Let’s get in some beach time.”

  I can’t wait. “Yay!” I say.

  I put on my shiny pink swimsuit and pink flip-flops and grab a towel from Grammy’s bathroom. I am the first one ready.

  I sit in a big soft chair in the living room while I’m waiting for the rest of my family. I love Grammy and Poppy’s house. It makes me feel safe and happy.

  Sabin, wearing his sunglasses again and long red swim shorts, interrupts my thoughts. “You got any suntan lotion, Sassy?”

  I dig down into my sparkly Sassy Sack, pull out a tube of suntan oil, and hand it to him. “Grease up!” I tell him with a laugh.

  “Why didn’t the security people take this from you?” he asks as he rubs the stuff on his skinny arms and legs.

  “It was in my suitcase. I refilled my sack when I got here,” I explain.

  Sadora comes into the room next. She looks stunning in her white one-piece suit. She looks out of Grammy’s huge picture window. “What a perfect day for a swim!” she says.

  “It sure doesn’t look like a storm is brewing,” Sabin says.

  I join them at the window. The sky is a clear, bright blue umbrella over a sunny, sparkling beach.

  “If I could draw a picture of perfect, that would be it,” I tell them.

  Mom, Daddy, Poppy, and Grammy, all dressed in swim clothes, join us, and the seven of us head down the path to the beach. Stones have been set in the sand to help us walk easier.

  “The air feels like a warm blanket,” I say as we get closer to the water.

  “Warm blankets and hot days are not a good mix,” Sabin jokes.

  We spread our towels on the soft white sand, and for a minute I just stand there to look and listen. The sun is golden and hot. The sand is white and sparkly. The water, blue and glistening, goes whoosh, whoosh as it rolls onto the beach and then surges back again.

  “It’s like the ocean is playing a game of Catch Me if You Can,” I tell Sadora.

  “All day and all night,” she replies. “It never stops moving. Up to the sand. Back out again.”

  “That’s crazy!” I tell her.

  Sabin is already in the ocean, his skinny arms sticking out of the blue water.

  “He looks like a stick fish,” I tell Sadora with a giggle.

  Suddenly, Sabin runs out of the water, onto the sand, and directly to me and Sadora. He is holding some kind of green plastic toy in his hand.

  Before we know it, he has doused both of us with cool ocean water!

  “Gotcha!” he says with glee. “I found this toy on the beach. Great for soaking sisters!” He runs in the other direction.

  We scream and chase him across the sand. The three of us end up in the ocean, laughing and throwing water on one another.

  It feels cold at first, but soon the ocean water seems as warm as bathwater to me. We splash and duck and squeal. We swim and float and bob.

  This has gotta be heaven, I think.

  “Come on in the water!” I call out to my parents and Grammy and Poppy.

  Grammy just motions to us from her beach chair that we should keep on playing, but Daddy and Mom jump up and surprise us by racing each other to the edge of the water. Poppy runs right behind them and passes them both! He holds his arms up high like an Olympic race winner.

  Daddy and Mom, breathing hard, laugh as they reach the edge of the water. Poppy runs around both of them in a victory circle, then dives into the ocean with us.

  Mom stops and lets the waves cover her ankles and toes. She squeals a little and pretends to be afraid. She’s slim and in pretty good shape for a mom. She looks almost like a teenager in her navy blue swimsuit.

  Then Daddy picks her up and walks with her out into the water. Mom screams and kicks and acts like she’s about to die, but she’s laughing the whole time.

  “Put me down, Sam!” she squeals.

  “Your wish is my command!” Daddy says. Then he tosses Mom into the oncoming wave.

  She screeches, goes under the wave, and comes up laughing and sputtering. She swims over to Daddy and pulls him under the water. The two of them look like kids as they play.

  “Swim tag!” Sabin cries. He tags me first, and I tag Sadora, who catches Mom. Mom tags Daddy, but I think he lets her catch him. Poppy is the fastest swimmer of all of us, so he never gets caught.

  When the game is over, I lie on my back and just float and bobble on the waves. I look up at the blueness of the sky and at the crisp white clouds, and I almost want to cry because it’s just so pretty.

  Sadora swims over and floats like a lovely fish next to me. “Pretty nice, huh, Little Sister?”

  “Awesome,” I reply quietly.

  “The water feels like a warm, soft bed,” she says.

  “Pretty wet and bouncy for a bed,” I joke.

  “It seems like that hurricane is a million miles from here,” she says.

  “And I hope it stays there,” I tell her with feeling.

  I float quietly, dreaming of birthday parties in the sunlight and campfires on the beach in the moonlight.

  Then Sabin swims over to me, splashes water across my face, and I have to chase him again.

  Mom and Daddy and Poppy finally get tired and head to the beach, but Sabin and Sadora and I stay in the warm water as long as we can.

  I finally notice that Grammy is calling us in. She has blankets
and towels spread out on the sand. I can see paper plates and napkins and cups. I can smell the food from here.

  “Food!” Sabin says as we get closer. “I could eat a horse!”

  “I’m starving!” Sadora says.

  “Me, too!” I yell. We race one another to the blankets.

  Mom and Grammy have brought out hot dogs and hamburgers and chips, along with a huge jug of lemonade and a large package of chocolate chip cookies.

  “Why does food taste so much better when you eat it outside?” I ask as I eat my second hot dog.

  “Must be a combination of wind and surf and fresh air,” Poppy tells me with his mouth full.

  “Mmm,” Sabin mumbles. “We should do this all the time!”

  We’re slightly damp, and our legs and feet are covered with sand. We sit together on our own private spread, gobbling food, laughing, and watching the sun go down.

  “The sun looks like a huge golden ball falling slowly in the sky,” Sadora says.

  “It seems like it should sizzle as it touches the water,” I add with a giggle.

  “The moon is already up and ready to take over.” Sabin points at the dim disk in the sky.

  “It looks like somebody took a bite out of it!” I tell him.

  “Can we stay out until it gets dark and the moon and stars are bright?” I ask Mom and Grammy.

  “You can stay out until the beach bugs chase you in,” Poppy replies with a laugh. “Those little insects will cover your legs with little tiny bites.”

  This time it’s Mom’s turn to dig into her bag and pull out just what we need. “I brought bug spray and lotion for everyone,” she announces.

  “It stinks,” Sadora complains as she spreads the lotion on her arms.

  “Then don’t use it,” Grammy tells her. “But you’ll be sorry!”

  Sadora mumbles something about being first in the shower, but she rubs lots of the lotion on her feet and legs. I like the spray kind because I don’t have to get it all over my hands.

  The sun disappears gradually. “Seems like the earth just swallowed the sun,” I say.

  I shiver a little because it’s gotten cooler.

  “Too bad we don’t have a fire,” Sabin says.

  “It would take too long to gather firewood,” Poppy says. “Let’s just pack up our stuff and head in.”

  “No, wait! I have an idea!” I tell my family. “I think I know how to start a fire.” I dig down into my sack.

  “What do you have in there that can make fire?” Sabin asks.

  I’m digging and digging. Then my fingers touch what I’m looking for.

  “This I gotta see,” Sadora says, rolling her eyes.

  I pull out two slightly flattened packages of corn chips. “Do you have a lighter, Poppy?” I ask.

  “Sorry, Sassy. I don’t.”

  “But I have some waterproof matches in my sack,” Grammy says. “I believe in being prepared.” She pulls them out of her bag and hands them to me.

  Even though I can’t see their faces very well in the moonlight, I know my entire family is curious. “Just wait and see,” I tell them. “I learned this in science class.”

  I open the packages and push the corn chips into a little pile. Then I carefully strike one of the matches on its box. The spark burns blue, then red. Slowly, slowly, I touch the match to the corn chips, and amazingly, they light! We have a fire!

  “Terrific!” Daddy says.

  “Awesome!” Sadora adds.

  “Out of sight!” Grammy says. Only Grammy or Poppy would say that.

  “It’s amazing what Sassy can find in that sack,” Mom says proudly. “Simply amazing!”

  “That’s crazy!” Sabin says with real admiration in his voice. He adds a few sticks he finds nearby to the little fire.

  Then Daddy and Poppy add a few more sticks and branches from the dunes.

  The stars above are bright. The moon glows like a dim cookie in the distance. And my corn-chip fire burns brightly on the beach.

  I’m too excited to sleep, so the next morning I wake up really early. It’s still dark outside. I leave Sadora snoring and tiptoe down the steps to Grammy’s kitchen.

  She sits at her kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea. Next to her is a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

  “Good morning, Sassy,” Grammy says with a smile. “I knew you’d be up with the birds.” She slides the mug of chocolate over to me.

  “Yum. Chocolate-raspberry, my favorite,” I whisper as I sip. “Is Poppy still asleep?”

  Grammy chuckles. “Your grandfather is pretty pooped. He tried to run and play like he was a teenager yesterday, but this morning his body is telling him he’s not! He’ll be sleeping late this morning.”

  “How long have you known Poppy?” I ask.

  Grammy gazes out the window and smiles. “You’ve heard this story before, Sassy.”

  “I know. Tell me again. I love to hear it.”

  Grammy takes another sip of her tea and begins. “I was a teenager, not much older than Sadora. I went to the history museum with my school. I thought it would be just another boring look at dusty old relics. But our tour guide was a skinny college kid who loved old things and he made the whole trip seem like a great adventure. He told funny stories about cavemen and dinosaurs and ancient mummies. He knew juicy details about each exhibit. He made me laugh.” She paused.

  “So then what happened?” I ask.

  “Well, every Saturday after that, I rode the bus to the museum so I could see that amazing young man and learn more about history. He and I got to be good friends. Years later, after we both finished college, we got married, and a few years after that, your mom was born.”

  “Great story,” I tell her as I slurp the last of my chocolate.

  “Would you like to take an early morning walk on the beach?” Grammy asks.

  “Can we hunt for shells?” I ask.

  “Of course!” Grammy says. “And the sunrise this morning should be beautiful.”

  I grab a jacket, my sandals, and my Sassy Sack, and we head out into the dawn. The sky is starting to get brighter and I can see the sun peeping at the ocean in the distance.

  “Can I take my shoes off?” I ask Grammy.

  “Oh, yes, let’s do that!” Grammy says. She removes her sandals, too.

  The sand feels cool and squishy under my toes. I take Grammy’s hand.

  “Are you excited about your birthday, Grammy?” I ask her.

  She chuckles a little. “When you get to be my age, I’m just glad to have a birthday!” she replies. “But yes, I’m looking forward to the party.”

  I reach down and pick up two perfectly curled shells. I toss them into my sack. “Where do all the shells come from?” I ask Grammy.

  “From deep within the sea,” she tells me. “Shells are the crowns of the kings and queens of the ocean, and they send them to us as gifts to treasure. When the sun goes to sleep, she gathers all the shells, then tosses them on the beach at dawn for us to find.”

  “Is that one of your folktales, or is that for real?” I ask her.

  “A little of both,” she admits.

  “You know so much, Grammy,” I tell her. “I feel like I’ll never figure everything out like you have.”

  “I’ve been blessed, Sassy. I’ve been given lots of time to learn. But there’s still lots I don’t know.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to paint my toenails so the polish doesn’t smear!”

  I giggle. “That’s easy! Just put cotton between your toes!”

  “See, there’s lots of stuff you know that I don’t!” We both crack up.

  The sky is pink now, with edges of gold. “The water looks like blue ink with white foam on the edges,” I whisper to Grammy.

  She squeezes my hand.

  The sun gets brighter and higher in the distance. I have to take off my jacket.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I say to the sky.

  “We’d better enjoy the sun while we
can,” Grammy says, pointing to some dark clouds in the distance. “I don’t think today will be as bright as yesterday. And tomorrow might be pretty dismal.”

  I try not to worry about the upcoming storm.

  Grammy and I collect lots of pretty shells, and the ocean waves keep us company as we walk. The whoosh, whoosh of the water is much louder than it was the day before. The surf is surging high.

  “The waves seem like they’re angry today,” I tell Grammy. “They’re pounding the sand.”

  “That’s the storm that’s brewing,” Grammy says. “Let’s head back to the house.”

  “Okay. I’ve worked up an appetite,” I tell her.

  Then she stops walking. “Look, Sassy!” Grammy says with excitement in her voice.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She kneels down in the sand next to a large rock. “It’s a sea turtle nest,” she says softly.

  “Wow! How can you tell?”

  “See the tracks the mother left?” Grammy points to a long path in the sand. It leads all the way back down to the sea.

  “It looks like the track of one giant truck wheel,” I say.

  “She deposited her eggs here last night and covered them with sand,” Grammy explains.

  “When will she come back to check on her babies?”

  “She lays her eggs, then swims away. She will never return,” Grammy tells me.

  “Oh, that’s so sad!”

  “Most of these nests are marked by the Marine Turtle Protection Program, but it looks like they missed this one,” Grammy says as she rubs her hand over the dent in the sand where the eggs are hidden.

  “What difference does it make?” I ask.

  “Sea turtles are endangered animals,” Grammy explains.

  “Does that mean they are about to be extinct?” I ask.

  “Lots of people are working so that does not happen,” Grammy tells me.

  “How?”

  “Well, the nests are usually marked so beachgoers know to be very careful. We want the little eggs to hatch.”

  “How many eggs to do you think are waiting under the sand?”

  “Probably about a hundred,” Grammy tells me.

  “Wow.”

  I reach down into my Sassy Sack and pull out a bright green ribbon. Then I take my lucky pink ribbon from my hair.