The Many Mysteries of the Finkel Family

by Sarah Kapit

  Caroline rolled over. In the dark she could just barely make out the huddled mass of blankets on the other bed, swaying from side to side. She grabbed her tablet off the floor.

  “Lara?” she asked. “Are you up?”

  “Yes. What’s going on, Lina-Lin?”

  “What is middle school like?” Caroline asked. Most of her thoughts kept going back in that rather terrifying direction.

  A huff came from the other bed. “It’s middle school. There are classes and some of them are good. Some of them aren’t. Watch out for gym. You should cross your fingers and hope you end up with Mr. Locke for that one. He’s the nice one, even though he doesn’t look like it.”

  Caroline had not previously given much thought to gym class at all, but the news that only one gym teacher could be described as nice alarmed her. Still, that wasn’t really what she wanted to know.

  She stared at her tablet screen and debated how best to approach her real question. Ultimately, she decided to just say it. “What about the other kids?”

  Lara paused for a longer-than-normal amount of time before answering. “It’s not really that different from elementary school. All right, well, maybe it is, but there are still good people and not-so-good people. You just have to find the good ones, Lina-Lin.”

  “And the not-good ones?”

  “Those we avoid. By any means necessary.”

  Caroline thought about the matter. Things didn’t sound quite so terrible when you put it that way. Although she couldn’t help but wonder how, precisely, one might go about avoiding the not-good people. Lara’s tour of Pinecone Arts Academy had not included any secret passageways that one could just slip into whenever a pesky person happened to be around.

  Still, Lara was trying to be reassuring, and she appreciated that. “Okay,” she said.

  Silence descended upon the room, and it went on for so long that Caroline thought maybe her sister had managed to drift off into sleep after all.

  Then Lara spoke again, voice quieter. “Look. I’m not going to tell you a bunch of lies just to make you feel better. Middle school is . . . well, middle school. It’s not always fun and some of the kids are real jerks. I’d be happy to give you a list of the worst ones, though that would only cover the ones in my grade. Well, and a few of the eighth graders that are especially jerky.”

  Caroline snorted at the idea of a jerky-people list. It was such a Lara thing to do.

  “But it’s going to be okay,” Lara continued. “I’ll be there if you need anything, and most of the teachers are okay, really. If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell one of them. Or better yet, tell me. I’ll make sure they don’t try anything.”

  Caroline ran a hand through her hair. She appreciated Lara’s need to protect her. Really, she did.

  But she most certainly did not want to begin her life in middle school by running to a teacher for help—or worse still, her big sister. The memory of their visit to the school was enough to make Caroline antsy. That couldn’t happen again.

  Maybe Caroline would always be the girl who didn’t talk with mouth-words, but she did not have to be the girl who went to other people to fix her own problems. She might not feel sure of very many things right now, but on this point she was quite certain.

  Caroline wasn’t in the mood to get into another argument, so she just pressed the “okay” button on her tablet.

  The bundle of blankets that was Lara relaxed a bit. “Okay,” Lara repeated. “It’s going to be fine, Lina-Lin. Now we really should go to sleep. Or at least we should try.”

  Caroline tried. But it would be at least an hour before her mind became calm enough for true slumber.

  * * *

  * * *

  LOCATION: Dad’s car, 7:30 a.m. (first day of school)

  EVENT: C. and A. not here yet. Very annoying!

  QUESTION FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION: What should I do to help C. at school?

  “Excited for the first day of school, Lara-bear?” Dad asked as he gathered up the trash that had accumulated in the front seat of the car. Lara had been observing him closely for the past week. He looked quite normal-ish at the moment. Not at all like someone who had just lost a job he loved. Well, that was good at least.

  Lara frowned as she considered the question. Maybe it was uncool of her, but she generally enjoyed school, with the notable exception of gym class. So the prospect of starting a whole new year ought to be exciting. But when she thought about it, the only thing she really felt was tiredness. And worry. Caroline had sounded awfully scared last night, and why shouldn’t she be? Middle school was scary, even if you didn’t talk with a computer voice.

  But Dad didn’t need to worry about her in addition to everything else, so Lara forced a smile. “Sure. I’m excited. Can’t you see how excited I am?”

  Her father frowned but didn’t press the issue. “Fantastic. Now that your sister is going to be at the same school, you’ll need to look out for her. I can count on you for that, right?”

  Remembering their ill-fated visit to school, Lara couldn’t help but think that Caroline would be less than thrilled about being looked out for. Then again, last night she welcomed Lara’s sisterly advice. So who knew, really?

  Lara nodded. “Sure. I’ll make sure Caroline doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

  Dad laughed at the undeniably ridiculous idea of Caroline getting into trouble.

  While he was still chuckling, Aviva bounced up to the car and into the back seat. “Hi, Lara!” she said, with far more cheer than anyone should display before ten o’clock. “I can’t wait for school. I think we’re going to have some classes together. That’s going to be so much fun!”

  “Uh-huh,” Lara mumbled. That was her maximum enthusiasm level for the moment.

  A few minutes later Caroline joined them. Lara glanced backward at her sister and gave her what was hopefully a reassuring smile. Caroline did not return it.

  Neither sister said much as Aviva began a one-sided conversation about what classes she was taking this year and how much she looked forward to taking eighth-grade advanced math. Show-off.

  Still, the constant chatter lulled Lara into a normal mood. This was just school, after all.

  They arrived at the academy and Dad let them out of the car with a (rather optimistic) proclamation that they would have a wonderful day. Yet even as the station wagon chugged away, Caroline hardly budged from her spot by the curb. She hugged her arms close to her chest—a sure sign of nerves.

  Lara tried another smile. She pointed toward the squat brick building. “The school is that way. We can go in together.”

  Caroline didn’t have her tablet out, so she couldn’t communicate with words. But the grimace on her face spoke just as clearly as her app ever could: No way.

  “Come on,” Lara prodded. “Will you at least talk to me?”

  Although Caroline gave a rather childish pout, she finally pulled her tablet out of her bag. “I’m fine, Lara. I don’t need your help. You should do what you normally do when I’m not here.”

  “Fine,” Lara said. She tried and failed not to feel hurt by the brush-off. “Have a nice day, then.”

  No response.

  So much for looking out for her sister.

  CHAPTER NINE:

  HELENA THE ZEBRA

  An hour into her first day, Caroline had tentatively reached the conclusion that middle school probably was not terrible. Although she hadn’t yet identified a strong candidate for a friend, she had thoroughly enjoyed social studies class, which had included a fun map-drawing activity. Better still, she had her Experimental Art class now. Although she was not quite sure what the experimental part of Experimental Art meant, she figured that her future friend probably took art too.

  All the excitement proved so distracting that Caroline got lost twice on her way to the classroom. An embarr
assment, to be sure, but she was here now.

  A pink-haired woman at the front of the room turned toward Caroline with a wide smile. “Hello! And who are you?”

  Caroline considered the options. Without her tablet she couldn’t really answer the question. She’d put the tablet away to give her neck a bit of a rest. So she just pointed to herself and hoped that Ms. Pink Hair would understand.

  “Oh! You’re Caroline Finkel, aren’t you?” Somehow, the woman’s smile became even wider. “Awesome! Why don’t you find a seat now?”

  The teacher pointed toward a blue table and Caroline tried to keep her breaths nice and even. She would have preferred to choose her own table, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. It’s not a big deal, Caroline told herself. Everyone here is an artist. They must be okay.

  Setting aside Lara’s warnings about the existence of jerk-ish kids, Caroline slid into an empty seat. She smiled at the other kids at the table. The boy sitting next to her was already scribbling a comic-style fight scene on notebook paper.

  “Welcome to Experimental Art! Don’t worry—we will definitely be making art today,” the teacher said. “But first things first! I’d love for us to get to know each other better. Let’s take some time for you guys to talk with everyone else at your table.”

  Caroline drew in a breath and pulled out her tablet. Okay. She could totally do this. She opened the speech app and readied her fingers for typing.

  “What are we supposed to be talking about?” the boy wondered. He was still working away on his comic.

  “It would help to know your name, genius,” said a red-haired girl with a tight ponytail. “I’ll start. I’m Marissa and I’m a painter. My favorite medium is acrylics and I went to art camp this summer. I won an award for best portrait.”

  Caroline gulped. She knew art wasn’t a competition, exactly, but the idea of being in the same class as braggy Marissa made her nervous.

  “I’m more into watercolors,” another girl said. “Oh, yeah. I’m Jenna. Hi and nice to meet you.”

  Although Caroline couldn’t quite bring herself to look Jenna in the eyes, her shoulders relaxed. At least Jenna seemed nice.

  “How about you?” Jenna asked the boy.

  He looked up from his drawing. “Micah. I like comics, obviously.”

  Marissa looked at his work and sniffed. “You’re not bad. Why don’t you do real art?”

  “Comics is real art!”

  “If you say so.”

  Caroline sensed that this argument could go on for the rest of class if left unchecked. She decided to intervene. With a quick tap to her tablet, she said her introduction: “Hello! My name is Caroline Finkel. I am eleven years old and I like art. It is nice to meet you.”

  The rest of the Blue Table stared. Marissa’s mouth hung open into a rather unbecoming O-shape. “Oh,” she said. “So that’s how you . . . talk.”

  Caroline did not like the pause in Marissa’s voice. As though Caroline’s way of talking was somehow less real than anyone else’s. As though Caroline herself was less real.

  She decided that Marissa’s meanness deserved only a one-word response: “Yes.”

  Apparently, Marissa decided that Caroline didn’t warrant any further attention, because she turned back to the other kids and started talking about her recent trip to Paris, which she pronounced as “Par-ee” for some reason. That was more than okay with Caroline. She switched over to Candy Crush on her tablet and restarted level 457. Technically she wasn’t supposed to use her tablet for games during school, but it’s not as if they were doing anything actually important. Next to her, Micah continued his drawing. Caroline was tempted to take a peek, but resisted the urge. She never liked to show her work before it was done, so it was hardly fair to look at someone else’s.

  “Now it’s time for your very first project!” the pink-haired woman announced. Caroline realized she should probably figure out her real name. “I don’t want to give you any restrictions, except for this: I would like for all of you to work in a medium that you’ve never used before. This is a chance for you to experiment and grow as artists. We are in Experimental Art, after all!”

  Marissa immediately raised her hand to announce that she was familiar with all possible mediums. While she babbled on, Caroline considered her options. The idea of using a new medium excited her—but what should she choose?

  Her gaze was instantly drawn to the heaps of red-brown clay sitting in plastic bags. She certainly didn’t have much experience with that. Before she could think about it too much, Caroline wandered over to the clay and grabbed a bag for herself.

  She ripped the bag open and stared at the clay for a good minute or so before scooping out a nice big chunk. This clay could become so many different things, but what would be the very best?

  After rolling the clay into a perfectly even ball, Caroline paused. She had no idea what to do next. Caroline was just about ready to flatten the ball into a pancake when the teacher strolled up. “Excellent choice of medium. Do you know what you’re sculpting?”

  Her tablet was close enough, but Caroline didn’t want to risk messing it up with clay-coated fingers. She shook her head.

  “It’s totally okay not to know right away. You want to let the clay guide you.” She handed Caroline a set of tools. “This will help.”

  Even though Caroline did not have the first clue about how to let the clay guide her toward anything but a colossally ugly mess, she nodded.

  She set the clay on the table and started to shape it with her bare hands. Much to her surprise, a form started to emerge. Caroline thought the clay looked a little like a horse’s head. But horses were quite boring. She needed a more interesting animal that looked kind of like a horse. Thinking back to family trips to the Woodland Park Zoo, she decided that the sculpture would be a zebra. Yes, that was good. And half an hour into class, her clay was clearly recognizable as a zebra’s head.

  Bit by bit, the zebra came to life. Caroline decided she ought to have a name. Helena seemed like a good choice. Thanks to Caroline’s hands, Helena soon grew oval-shaped ears, wide nostrils, and clay eyes that watched Caroline as she worked.

  “This is excellent work!” the teacher told her. “Are you sure you’ve never worked with clay before?”

  Caroline shook her head. She’d worked on a potter’s wheel once or twice in elementary school, but she’d certainly never sculpted like this before.

  “Well, you’re a natural sculptor. I’m super impressed.”

  Caroline would be lying if she said that the praise didn’t make her want to jump up and down. Maybe she did belong here at Pinecone Arts Academy.

  She continued to define Helena’s features, a silly grin firmly attached to her face. She paused only upon realizing that she really, really had to go to the bathroom. She didn’t want to abandon her work, but even great artists had to go sometimes, surely.

  When she returned, Helena was gone.

  No. That wasn’t quite accurate. Helena wasn’t gone. Her basic form was still there—the head, the neck, the ears. But otherwise, she had been completely destroyed.

  A strangled cry escaped from Caroline’s throat.

  The other kids’ eyes bored into her, and Caroline wished she could somehow shoo them all away. She rocked back and forth, trying and failing to calm the screaming in her brain.

  For once she didn’t see any colors. Just blank canvas.

  “Oh, no!” the teacher exclaimed. “I was checking up on some of our other artists and . . . oh, no.”

  She narrowed her eyes and looked over the room of kids, with an expression far grimmer than Caroline would have believed possible for someone with pink hair. “Now. Does anyone know what happened to Caroline’s sculpture?”

  Silence descended upon the room for one long and horrible moment. Then two. Then . . .

  “She did it!
”

  Micah pointed his finger right at Marissa.

  The teacher frowned and turned toward them. “Is this true?”

  Caroline did not listen to Marissa’s rapid stream of words, which became increasingly high-pitched. All she could hear was the scream in her own mind.

  She’d been so close to making something beautiful. Now, thanks to a stupid trip to the bathroom, it was all gone and she could never, ever bring it back.

  With any luck, she wouldn’t have any more classes with Marissa. But that didn’t really matter, did it? Lara had been right: Middle school was full of jerks. There would always be Marissas, in this class and in every other one she attended.

  How could she possibly make it through the entire school year here?

  CHAPTER TEN:

  OF NEW FRIENDS AND OLD SISTERS

  Caroline would have preferred for her school day to end right then and there, but of course it didn’t. She still had a whole list of classes to suffer through before she could go home and bury herself in her comforter. Next up was math, which had never been one of her favorite subjects.

  Tears pushed against Caroline’s eyes for the entire class period. She didn’t actually cry, thank goodness, but the threat of it felt far too present. Not crying took up so much of her concentration, in fact, that she failed to understand a single word that the teacher said.

  “. . . finish that for tomorrow,” the teacher said at the end of class.

  Caroline flinched. Well, there was yet another thing for her to fail at. Unless she could ask someone about the assignment. At elementary school, she could have always asked her paraprofessional about it later. But things were different here, in this strange place where they changed classes every hour. Here there was no paraprofessional, and she didn’t know anyone else. Not really.

  It took Caroline thirty whole seconds to realize that it was now time to go. Gathering up her things didn’t take much time, since she hadn’t bothered taking out her notebook in the first place.