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100% written and illustrated by kids ages 6-13

July/August 2013


By

This Summer

“Dad? Where will we move?” I ask, taking the liberty of cleaning the table CHAPTER ONE DISASTER FALLS “I call this room!” I yell so everyone knows which room I had claimed for myself. My brothers and sister run up the stairs so that they too could declare their rooms. I look out my window, seeing the big moving truck pulling into our driveway. I love our new house. There’s a pool in the back and still room for a nice big backyard. The front yard has a rose bush that gives the entryway that perfect look. I can’t wait for our new life to begin in this new house. The next day as we wait for our dad to come back with the dinner, I start going through my things. I take a picture out of a box labeled “Fragile: Handle with Care” and look at myself with my best friend. Then, I had just gotten my braces and my smile was a little awkward, but I love this picture anyway. And besides, Ashley, my best friend, only lives a block away now. “Rachel! Your father’s home!” Mom calls. I race downstairs, my stomach growling for food. “Yes, finally!” my older brother Jeremy says. We all eat our dinner happily. This is our first meal in our new house! Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! “I’ll get that,” Dad says. He walks into the other room and picks up the phone. I can tell just by his face that something is wrong. He walks back into the dining room slowly with a frown on his face. “What’s wrong, dear?” Mom asks, concerned. He doesn’t speak for a moment; he just stares at his pizza. He finally says, “I’m sorry kids, but…” He doesn’t know how to say it. “I was just laid off,” he says slowly. Now the little ones don’t understand, but Jeremy, Mom, and I know what it means. It means we can’t live in our new house, the house that I had already grown to love, the house that was close to my best friend’s house, the house with a swimming pool in the back yard, the house where I had hoped to make many memories… *          *          * CHAPTER TWO MOVING OUT “Why?” I manage, trying not to choke on my orange juice. Mom is too shocked to say anything. Jeremy abruptly leaves the table and goes to his room. My food churns. I am bubbling with questions, though I know I should give Dad some respectful silence. “The company was bought by another, bigger company.” The twins, Monica and Michael, stop fighting with their forks. “What’s de matter, Mommy?” they chorus, looking concernedly at Mom, her eyes red, trying to hold back tears. Seeing Mom not being up to answering, I say quietly, “Dad got fired. He can’t go to work anymore, and he… doesn’t get paid.” “So? Now he can play with us!” shouts Michael happily. I shake my head. “It’s not like that. He won’t get paid, and he can’t pay for the house expenses.” The twins begin to get it. Monica breaks into tears. “Where we gonna go, then, Rachel?” she sniffs. Dad and Mom are talking quietly now. I usher the twins to their rooms. “Dad? Where will we move?” I ask, taking the liberty of cleaning the table. He sighs. “I don’t know any more than you, sweetie. For sure not back to our old house.” My heart sinks to my stomach. “So we’ll probably move to the cheapest place we can find. Renting. Maybe in the country.” My heart finishes the drop to my toes. I burst into my room, sobbing. Reaching for the phone, I dial the number I know so well. “Ashley? Yes, it’s me. Hi. I know I said we were… Yes, but something’s come up… Oh, Ashley! My dad got fired… No, I don’t know why! No, it’s nothing he did! Wait!” But I am talking to no one. She hung up on me. I weep until my eyes are so puffy I can hardly see. The next week is spent repacking everything and selling most of it at garage sales. The neighbors look at us weirdly as we sell our stuff. It is really obvious that we are moving. I bet some of the neighbors think we’re leaving the country after attempted bank robbery or something. Once I see Ashley peddling by on her bike. I am about to wave, but then I see she is with another girl, Megan. I stare wistfully after them as they round the corner. How could she do this to me? *          *          * CHAPTER THREE GREETINGS! Mom, are we there yet?” Monica asks for the fifth time. “No, dear, we still have half an hour left,” Mom answers, a little annoyed. “OK,” Monica says, a little disappointed. “Mom, are we there now?” Michael asks. I can tell that Mom is really getting aggravated. She doesn’t respond so Michael just goes back to playing with his action figures. I look out my car window and see literally nothing. There is just sand and road and a few tumbleweeds and the occasional farm. Mom said we were lucky that our closest neighbor was right next door, since most likely we would have had to go at least a couple of miles from any neighbors. I’m not looking forward to living on a farm with a tiny house. Dad had shown me pictures of our new home, and once I saw them, I really wasn’t looking forward to living there. I fall asleep until we get there. Then Jeremy wakes me up and I quickly get up to see my new house. I stare at it in disbelief. “Mom, seriously. This is where we have to live?” I moan, raising my eyebrows. The house itself isn’t that bad, OK, yeah, it is that bad. It has one bathroom, three tiny little bedrooms (and that includes the master bedroom), the kitchen


By

How to Fail

Deep breath, deep breath. I look straight into the mirror. “Hello,” I say to the fake audience. “My name is Henry,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Hello, my name is Henry and I am going to show you what would now be called a modern miracle.” About three hours every day are dedicated to magic practice. I drop to the floor and pull open my magic drawer. The sides are lined with tons of decks of cards. In the middle to the right I keep all my sponge balls. Then on the wall closest to me rests my set of linking rings. I pick out two decks of cards and five sponge balls and place them in my inside jacket pocket, then I join my parents in the living room. *          *          * As we ride in the taxi I talk to my mom about my plans to perform tonight. “I think I’m going to perform tonight,” I tell my mom. “Really, for who?” she asks. “Uncle Doug,” I say, looking at my feet. “Remember last time, when I failed every trick I did for him?” She looks at me and I bring my head up. “I know you’re going to be fine and he will like it whether the trick works or not,” she says. I nod my head slightly, but inside I am having my doubts. *          *          * As I step into my cousins’ apartment a waft of chicken, brisket, and mashed potatoes washes over me. I walk into the apartment and take off my shoes. My aunt starts walking towards us with a large smile on her face. She comes up and hugs me and I relax a little, but then when I see my uncle my hand tightens around my box of cards. I walk up to my uncle and give him a high five. “H!” he says loudly. “How are you doin’?” “Now please pick a card” “OK,” I say, a little halfheartedly. “How is school?” “Pretty good, it’s a little hard in a new school, but I’m adjusting to the new standards.” “Awesome! Walking between classes, right?” “Yeah.” “Soccer?” “Definitely! I scored a hat trick in my last game and we won five to two!” “Whoa!! You remember my story about my coaching years?” We both laugh, remembering his crazy stories. I relax and wander back to my dad, who is talking with my cousin Scott. We all move into the living room and everyone starts to chat. I see my chance to walk up to Doug and perform my trick, but then I falter. My past flashes in front of my eyes, seeing the cards drop and all the failures that have happened in the past. I tell myself that I will be fine, but my mind tells me different. Against my will I start walking towards him and I engage in conversation. Soon, before I know it, I’ve brought my deck of cards out and he is waiting. I snap out of it. “Sorry,” I say, “now please pick a card.” As he pulls it out of the deck my hands start to tremble, but I force them to be steady. He looks at his card and I instruct him to put it back anywhere he desires. “Now,” I say, beginning to recall the steps, “you had a free choice to pick any card you wanted.” He nods. “Then you replaced it anywhere you desired.” He nods again. I breathe in and out. Out of the corner of my eye I see one of my cousins flick on a light. The orange bright light pierces my eyes, burning down on me as if putting me on the spot. I go on about how I need to find his card. I gasp and my uncle gives me a strange look. I force a smile and continue. But it’s not the same. Now I’m feeling an overwhelming terror. There was a specific order of the cards that could not be disturbed, and I had missed one final step in the order. Now the cards sitting on the table are glaring at me as if another person lived inside them, telling me I was a failure. I shift my weight and continue with my patter until the first reveal. I throw the cards concealed in my hand onto the table. I point to the letter and suit on the two cards that match up to make his card and a look of surprise appears on his face. I go through the rest and I wince when he lands on the card that should be his. I close my eyes, my face burning, and gather up my cards. I completely ignore my uncle. I imagine my him shaking his head, his expression annoyed. I imagine him asking what should’ve happened—a magician’s nightmare. I start to walk away when I hear him try to speak. I interrupt him. “I know it was bad, I’m sorry I wasted your time.” A questioning look appears on his face. “What are you talking about, that was great!” My eyes get wide with surprise. Tons of questions race through my head. “What? But I messed up. Your card wasn’t the one I threw down.” “It doesn’t matter if you messed up. I loved the performance, and it was pretty cool when you made those two cards appear that matched mine. How did you do that anyway?” *          *          * From then on I performed for my uncle countless times in a breeze. Now I can talk to him about anything calmly because I know that I don’t have to be perfect. Progress not perfection. Henry Allan, 11New York, New York Andrew Cao, 12Freehold, New Jersey


By

Goodbye

Did I do something wrong? Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? Why did you leave me like a child crying at school, pleading for their parents to come back? Only they come back, and I know you will not. You weren’t supposed to leave. I never saw you go. You didn’t leave a letter. Can I come with you? We could run away up to the clouds and hide there forever. Are you really gone forever? Can I save you, or is it too late? I heard your voice, you whispered in my ear, but it sounded like a scream. “I’m sorry.” Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if you were still here. Would I be happier? Would I cry less? I miss you. Caroline Thompson, 12Pound Ridge, New York