The entire day during school all I could think about was going to Atlantic Grill My dad’s zebra hair was black with a few specks of white. It was his forty-first birthday. It seems that as each year passes, his hair gets more and more white. We were planning to celebrate his birthday with a special family dinner. We were going to a restaurant called Atlantic Grill. It was May 28, 2004, and the entire day during school all I could think about was going to Atlantic Grill with my parents and my brother. It is one of my favorite restaurants and I love their food. They make a homemade chocolate-chip cookie that is the best in the world! Dad came home from work a little early that day at 5:30. Then we were off on the dirty, gray sidewalks of New York City. It was a nice spring evening. The sun was peeking out from behind a building as it was lowering for sunset. It was warm outside, getting ready for summer. For once the streets were a little quieter than usual, but there sure were a ton of cars. Everybody was in cars because I noticed that there was major traffic on York Avenue. On the walk there I asked my mom, “What are you going to get for dinner?” “A salad,” she replied. “Dad, what are you going to get?” I asked. “The sushi, of course,” my dad responded. “What are you going to have, Danny?” my dad questioned. “I am going to get the grilled cheese. You know how I love Atlantic Grill’s grilled cheese. It is even better than yours, Mom,” I replied. When we got to the restaurant, I glanced around. The restaurant was packed with people at the tables and at the bar. We were hoping to sit outside because it was so noisy inside and it was a beautiful evening. Inside, there were TVs, paintings, phones ringing, people talking and music playing. There was the smell of smoke because the fresh food had just been put on the grill. Luckily, there was one open table outside for the four of us. The hostess sat us at the table and brought us menus. When the waitress raced over I anxiously asked, “Can I have a grilled cheese with french fries on the side?” “Sure, munchkin,” she replied because I was only six at the time. “What are you going to have tonight, ma’am?” she asked my mom with a little bit of a Southern accent. “I will have a Greek salad please,” my mom replied. “What about you?” she questioned as she turned to my dad. “I will have the sushi platter with a California roll,” my dad said. “What will the little one be having tonight?” she asked, motioning to my brother Dylan. “A New York strip steak,” my dad responded before my mom could answer. My brother was three years old and has had autism ever since he was born. His brain has trouble making sense of the world. Autism causes Dylan to experience life differently than other kids who can play around with their friends and talk about sports. He can’t talk because he has autism. He is trying to learn to talk and his teachers are working with him at school. He usually communicates using pictures and by shaking his head. Whenever we go to restaurants my parents will usually talk for him and tell the waitress or waiter what my brother Dylan wants to eat. Sometimes I get frustrated that Dylan can’t talk and because he is different. But I love him so much and keep hoping that he will get better and talk soon. I searched in my mom’s purse for her BlackBerry. I liked to play a game on it called Brick Breaker where there is a ball and a platform that you have to move around to get the ball to hit the bricks. Her purse was so unorganized with lots of papers shoved in and some of her belongings were creeping out. I smelled the fresh leather because the purse was brand new. When I rubbed my hand to the left it was smooth to the touch but to the right it was rough and bumpy. I liked the feel of rough and then smooth. It felt as if I was petting a cat or dog when it was smooth, but when it was rough it kind of felt like a papier-mache project I once made. I would always look through my mom’s purse for her BlackBerry when I was bored or waiting at a restaurant for our food to arrive. After what felt like an hour our food came. I saw the orange melted cheese and the steam coming from the french fries. There was a smoky smell filling the air and whetting my appetite. The smoke had a blast of heat. When I took my first bite it was hot, delicious and soaked in spicy ketchup. Then I turned my attention to Dylan. I saw his tan face, gray shirt, silver fork, and white napkin with red ketchup stains. I could smell his fruity shampoo that he used in the shower. I was staring at my brother’s steak. It looked like heaven. It was so juicy that it was dripping into his mouth like a leaky faucet. I could smell how good it tasted. I leaned over and put my fork right into his steak because I craved a taste of it. When I put a gigantic piece of steak in my mouth it was so juicy and delicious that I felt I was in a whole new world. I got so addicted to this great taste that I kept stuffing more of the steak in my mouth. Then all of a sudden my brother started crying hysterically. I realized he had every right to be upset. I had just eaten almost a third of his dinner right in front of
July/August 2010
Love, Aubrey
Love, Aubrey, by Suzanne LaFleur; Wendy Lamb Books: New York, 2009; $15.99 Have you ever read a book that is, in every way, perfect? Have you ever read a book conveying a character so well that you feel as if you know them? That’s how I felt after that first delicious read of Love, Aubrey. Yes, my first time. But not my last. I live with my mom, dad, and brother. I can’t count how many times I have rolled my eyes at my dad, stuck out my tongue at my brother, or given my mom the silent treatment. But after I read Love, Aubrey, I remembered how wonderful it feels when I see a movie, just me and my mom, or go out to a wacky cafe with my dad, or play baseball with my brother. Then I thought of people like Aubrey, whose seven-year-old sister and father died in a car accident, whose mother abandoned her, and who had to move to Vermont with her grandmother. I don’t mean to sound preachy, but I realized how lucky I am. Imagine: you live a happy and normal life, your mom is always (or almost always) ready to play and have fun, your sister is as cute and nice as a seven-year-old sister could be and your dad has a good job that pays him well. This was Aubrey’s life. But while she is driving back from a vacation in a blinding downpour life throws a cruel curveball that kills both her sister and father. This brings me to the most complex point of all: kids are in many ways more adaptable than grown-ups. After this tragic accident, Aubrey’s mother—out of sheer grief—abandons her. So Aubrey moves to Vermont to live with her grandma. In Vermont, Aubrey has to start more than a new school—she has to start a new life. During the summer and the beginning of the school year Aubrey’s thoughts are constantly clouded by sadness and confusion, especially for her sister, Savannah, who was very similar to the sister of the girl next door. It seems that the only people Aubrey can talk to are her pet fish and Savannah’s imaginary friend, Jilly. It’s like she’s isolated herself on an island that she doesn’t feel ready to leave. But gradually she makes friends with Bridget, the girl next door, gets closer to her grandmother and starts to open up to the school counselor. In my life, I have attended three different schools. In first grade, when I spent a wonderful year in Germany with my family, I attended the Comenius School. I felt scared. I wondered what people would think of me. Would I make friends? Would anyone hate me? Would anyone like me? School is the majority of my social life, and it’s the same way for Aubrey. In school, there are other things to deal with besides sorrow—there’s homework, friends, crushes. While at school, Aubrey allows herself to flee from her island a little and begins to let the terrible things that have happened in her life fade into the past. Meanwhile, people are frantically searching for Aubrey’s mom. After about three months of school, she is found. Aubrey’s mother has always loved her. That’s not the problem. Death is a huge force that can do many things to people. I think the impact of the car crash and all the loved ones lost made Aubrey’s mother do this terrible thing despite her love and care for Aubrey. After her mother is found and spends months seeing a psychologist, she is finally ready to visit. This is a big deal for Aubrey. Think: your mother has abandoned you, apologized over and over through tears by phone, and now she’s coming to visit. I remember last year in my choir when we had auditioned for the first solo of the season. For weeks I had worried and wished and gotten sweaty hands from crossing my fingers, but when it finally came time for our conductor to announce who had gotten the solo, I was suddenly wishing that I had never come to choir. If you morph this into more serious terms, that’s how Aubrey felt. For months she has cried and prayed and desperately wanted her mom to come back, but when she finally does, Aubrey feels scared and confused. Slowly, Aubrey and her mother adjust to each other and begin to spend more time together, making dinner, playing Monopoly, hugging, talking, and relaxing outside. Aubrey, her grandmother, and her mom have a fantastic time together. But it’s just a visit and, after Aubrey’s mom goes back to their old house to see her psychologist some more and to get a job, Aubrey settles back into her now normal life in Vermont. Then a decision is put in front of Aubrey. She has the choice of living with her mother or staying with her Gram. She finds herself very confused. Should she go back and live with her mom? Should she stay here with Gram, Bridget and her counselor? Decisions cloud up a lot of life, and I sometimes wish that somebody could just decide them for me. But then again, I tell myself every time I am faced with one, I need to make my own decisions without somebody else planning out my life for me. That’s what Gram tells Aubrey when she asks what she should do. I’m not going to say that Love, Aubrey isn’t sad, because it is. Really sad! But I am going to say that you should never let the sadness stop you from reading this amazing book. Because once you begin reading about the life of Aubrey Priestly, you can never stop. Eliza Edwards-Levin, 11Chicago, Illinois
Tear Drop’s Legacy
“May I go to him, sir?” The captain of the ship Sea Horse sat back in his chair and drank a long drain of his coffee. They were almost to Spain, their destination, and the only mishap had been the thunderstorm a day ago. He contemplated this fact, and had just decided that this had been the most uneventful voyage yet, when he heard the distress call. One of his sailors burst into the cabin. “Captain! A strange disturbance around the ship the Horn of Plenty, sir! Permission to reply to the signal.” The captain scratched his beard. “Permission granted. Make a large circle around the disturbance, and come abreast of them on the Horn of Plenty’s starboard side.” The night watchman aboard the Horn of Plenty had been watching the disturbance, a black stallion, ever since he had escaped during the storm a day before. He had named the beautiful horse Tear Drop and had prayed for him every time the waves hurled him up and pulled him under. The stallion was promised to a wealthy businessman in England, as were all the other horses aboard. The man was starting a business and wanted expensive purebred horses. The watchman said Tear Drop’s name over and over, talking to him, calming him. The big horse seemed to sense the desperation in the watchman’s voice, for he slowed his frantic paddling and stared into the man’s eyes. The large ship rocked suddenly, and the watchman slowly abandoned his post to direct the Sea Horse to Tear Drop. As the large ship crawled slowly forward, Tear Drop started to panic. The watchman rushed to the railing and began to talk to him. Almost immediately, he became still. The crew aboard the Sea Horse readied their equipment and were trying to find a man to go out, when the night watchman timidly spoke up. “Captain, sir?” “Yes, David?” the captain asked absently, his eyes fixed on Tear Drop. “May I go to him, sir?” The captain turned. “You’re volunteering? The horse could kill you, you know.” The watchman nodded. “Yes sir.” The captain turned to the Sea Horse’s crew. “Well, put him in, then!” David was quivering with excitement as the crew from the Sea Horse readied the equipment for him to take to Tear Drop. When it was time, he launched himself into the waves. Treading water, he moved gradually closer to the big horse. Uneasy, Tear Drop swam away. The sailor tried again to get closer, calling his name over and over. Tear Drop again swam away. David slowly pursued him, but he was quickly tiring. When he felt he could swim no longer with the equipment strapped to his back, he turned around to signal to the Sea Horse. Directly in front of him, he saw nothing but open water. He looked up, startled. Both ships were quite a distance away, too far for him to swim to. Suddenly, the ocean felt very big and violent, the waves enormous, the pack on his back like lead. A large wave tossed David high, then pulled him under. As he came back up, he found himself yelling Tear Drop’s name. Tear Drop was treading water, watching the wave-battered man. Another wave sucked David under and, when he resurfaced, Tear Drop was nowhere to be seen. A pang of fear twisted David’s heart. Then he felt a bump on his back. He spun around. Tear Drop faced him, nickering. David tentatively reached out to touch Tear Drop, then grabbed his mane and hauled himself up when another wave tugged at him. Tear Drop never flinched, seeming to know the importance of being still. When he was sure of himself, David waved his arm in a big sweeping motion, calling the ships to come closer. When he saw that they were underway, he wrapped his arms around Tear Drop’s neck and laid his head on his mane. Within a quarter hour, the ship was near enough to hoist Tear Drop aboard. David clambered after, so exhausted that the sailors had to carry him to his bunk. Almost before his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep. The days passed quickly after that, one and then another, blending together in a flurry of activity. The one thing that stood out was the time spent between Tear Drop and David. David had saved Tear Drop’s life by sending the distress call, and Tear Drop had saved David from drowning. There was a special bond between the two of them, and if David wasn’t the one to feed him, Tear Drop wouldn’t eat. Some of the sailors grumbled, saying the stallion was picky. Others openly admired the bond between the two. Still others pretended not to notice, simply because they didn’t know what to think. Every morning, David was up earlier than needed, feeding, exercising, and caressing Tear Drop. One morning as he and Tear Drop were strolling around the top deck, the captain approached. “David.” “Yes, Captain, sir?” “We’re almost to England. I can feel it in my bones! Oh, to taste my Maria’s tea right now.” He inhaled deeply. “I expect you’ll be glad to see your family too, son. You married?” The mention of England distracted David, and it was a moment before he was able to speak. “Yes, sir. Got a wife, and a young boy.” He half smiled. “Mary and Nicholas. Sure will be nice to see them again. I wish they could meet this guy, though.” He patted Tear Drop’s withers, and Tear Drop nibbled his sleeve. The captain looked at the exchange, opened his mouth, and then shut it. Then he turned, and walked away. * * * A week later, they arrived in England. David convinced the captain to let him take Tear Drop to his new home. As he and ten other sailors walked down the paved walk, David could only wonder if he would ever see Tear Drop again. On the voyage, they
